#so it's understandable he freaked out despite... what's the plan again? oh right. no plan yet anyway BUT IT'S NOTHING NEW OKAY

[andaniellight]

trust Roronoa Zoro with bounty over 1,111,000,000 to freak the fuck out if the crew got separated away from him AND their godly captain

[writingsbychlo]

HOME TO US | rhysand

summary; rhys and nyx are a family of two, but they're both pretty hell-bent on making it into a trio, with you.

word count; 12,151

notes; I have no idea how this got so long? I planned for it to be like 4-5k, and @azsazz can vouch for that. also big shout out to @acourtofwhatthefuck for proofreading this for me when I just had no motivation, but I needed this one to be perfect.

Fate had always seemed to have the worst timing for you.

Whether it be relationships, the sunny skies turned to rain, or simply this; balancing precariously on a stool and getting startled by your own phone, which you could have sworn was on silent mode. 

Blaring out across the shop in a sudden burst of cheery notes and tones, you almost dropped the stacks of books in your hands, cursing a little as it vibrated in rhythm in the back pocket of your jeans. When the call persisted after the usual three rings signalling a cold caller or market salesperson, you sighed. 

Shifting the books to one arm, you fished the phone out before it could go to voicemail, wondering just who would be calling you so urgently at this time of the day. The question didn’t linger for long, though, as your eyes widened at the caller across the front of the screen. 

‘Velaris Young-Education Prepatory School’.

A ridiculously fancy name for an elementary school, you thought it every time you saw the name, and yet right now, your heart skipped a beat as you pressed answer. Bringing it to your ear as you shuffled the books in your arms more, you lowered yourself down from the ladder carefully. 

“Hello?”

“Oh, hello! Is this Nyx’s mother, (Y/N)? It’s V-Y-E Prep.”

The woman on the phone sounded somewhere between relieved and panicked, and your heart leapt into your throat a little at her tone. “Well, yes, that’s me, but-”

“Oh, good, we weren’t able to get in touch with dad, I was worried I wouldn't be able to get a hold of either of you.” She cut you off before you had a chance to finish, your lips clamping shut as she let out a sigh of a laugh. “I’m Nyx’s class teacher, but he’s had a little bit of an accident today, do you think you’d be able to come and pick him up from the reception?”

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest entirely. “An accident, what kind of accident, is he okay?” 

“Oh, he’s fine! He had a fall during playtime, and he bumped his head. There’s a mark, and a scratch we’ve cleaned up, but he’s understandably a little shocked and upset. We know dad can get… concerned,” 

Understatement of the century, you wanted to butt in, because Rhys was more than just concerned. He was overprotective, in an endearing way, but he tended to freak out over the smallest things. Then again, it didn’t help when teachers said things like ‘accident’ when it’s not so serious. Perhaps it was a good thing that they got you, not him. 

“So, we thought we’d give you a ring, and see if you could pick him up?”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. You still had four hours left of your shift, and you felt terrible just ducking out, even if the store was dead, excluding the few people idling over lukewarm coffees in the connected café. “Sure, yeah, of course. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Wonderful, we’ll see you then.”

The line clicked dead, your eyes sliding shut as you let out a slow breath. You could have just said no, that voice in your head taunted, he’s not your child to fret over. And yet, the thought of his sad face lingered in your mind, triggering all those maternal instincts inside of you and sending them into overdrive.

“Sounds urgent.” Somehow, despite walking with a cane and always wearing heeled boots that clicked on the floorboards, Margaret had managed to sneak up on you. When you turned, the seventy-something-year-old was standing with a smile on her face behind you, eyeing the phone in your hand. 

“I’m sorry, Margie. It’s Nyx’s school.” You grimaced, lips pressing together into a thin line. She only laughed lightly, waving a frail hand idly in the air as if to bat the moment away.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I know what it’s like to have your child’s school call you up in the middle of the day.” Her smile only widened, her eyes glazing over a little. “Our Tommy was a terrible little troublemaker, I had constant calls about his behaviour. And our Jenny, well, she was the clumsiest kid you ever saw. Tripped over thin air.”

A wistful sigh escaped her, and your lips flicked up at the edges. You’d met both Thomas and Jennifer, lovely people, but just as she’d described. Jennifer seemed even more prone to bad timing than you, and Thomas had turned all that troublesome energy into bad flirting and a heated temper. 

“You do what you have to for your kids.” She’d finished her recollections, her voice snapping you from your own, and you could only nod.

“I know, but he’s not my kid. Not biologically, or in any way that matters. It’s not the same, and-”

“Hon, if I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.” Her words made a lump in your throat that was impossible to speak around, a quick flash of emotion swelling up that you were quick to fight against, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she’d seen in. “He may not have your genes, but he’s yours. So, go get your son. The store will still be here when you come back on Monday.”

“Are you sure-”

“Don’t make me force you out of this door.” She tapped her cane at your feet, just close enough that you could feel the floorboards vibrate under the harsh taps, a wordless threat, and a grin broke out on your lips to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Alright, I’ll see you Monday, then.”

She gave a curt nod, and you were flying through the store. Grabbing your bag and coat from the backroom on the way, you were out of the back door and at your car in less than a full minute. Only when you’d put your bags onto the seat and checked the car seat permanently attached to the back of the car did you get into your own seat.

How you’d gotten to this point, you had no idea. It hadn't been your intention four years ago when you’d first met baby Nyx, to end up with a box of his things in your trunk for emergencies, a child seat of your own in the back of the car and your name registered as a parental contact. Yet, as you stared, twisting to look at it and brushing your fingers over the fabric, you didn’t have a single regret about it. 

In fact, only a smile pulled at your lips as you thought about him. Him, and his father. Rhysand had been your best friend for many years, and his baby only seemed to bring you closer. You’d never have wished Nyx’s mother to have abandoned him, you loathed the woman every day for what she did to them both, but it had created a space in their lives that you’d somehow patched a part of up. 

When Rhys had needed support and guidance, you’d been there.

Now, you’d be there for Nyx, too.

As you started the car, flicking a glance back to check the mirrors on the seat were still aligned, Margie’s words flickered through your mind. 

If I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.

They lingered on your mind for the entire drive, hanging over you like a cloud on an April day, unsure if it was going to rain, or simply pass by. Until you were parked outside of the school, hands still clenched tightly on the steering wheel as you stared up at the tall glass entryway only a few paces away. You couldn't see Nyx yet, not with the doors on the other side that truly sealed off the building, but you could make out figures and shapes on the other side.

Your eyes moved to the clock, the digit clicking over another number, and your fingers felt numb when you finally released them from the wheel. With another sigh, you released all thoughts about mothers and genes and Rhys. 

One day, perhaps, you’d confront them. Today wasn’t going to be it.

Stepping out of the car and swinging the door shut behind you, you didn’t even bother to lock it, as you took a slow jog up the main pathway before the school. The doors hissed open automatically before you, the smell of fresh cotton coming from the air freshener in the corner of the office, and the receptionist behind the desk looked borderline bored as she glanced up. 

“Hi, um- Hi. I’m here for Nyx.”

Her eyes widened a little, looking significantly more interested now as she took your name, and called through to the classroom. The thought almost amused you, had you not been so concerned. Rhys had quite the reputation around here, the big checks and hefty donations gained him and Nyx quite the special treatment, one that clearly seemed to pass onto you, too. 

The doors to the school buzzed open a second later as the magnetic locks released, and you stepped through. Sitting in one of the large plush chairs lined up along the wall of the office was Nyx, looking utterly swamped as his feet swung in the air, head bowed and hands clutching tightly to his backpack in his lap. 

At the scuffing of your shoes, his head snapped up, eyes wide and hopeful, turning to relieved as he saw you. He dropped his bag to the floor, moving to slide out of the chair but you were faster, dropping down to kneel before him. Up close, you could see more, enough to break your heart. 

His eyes were red, cheeks pink, tear-marks tracked into the smears of playground dirt and classroom muck on his face. When you brushed the edge of his inky hair back from his forehead, it was to reveal a cut across his forehead to his temple, bumped and bruised, growing into a lump on his head. His bottom lip wobbled, eyes growing shiny again. 

“Oh, Nyxie, did you get hurt?”

“Yeah…” His voice trembled as he spoke, sniffling lightly and wiping at his cheeks with his sleeve. Patting his hair down once again, you tried to choke back the emotions clogging in your throat as a tall shadow fell across the both of you. With a glance, you confirmed that it was his teacher, looking more than a little nervous as she watched you take in Nyx for yourself. 

“We just have some forms for you to sign, and I can tell you a little more about his injury, and then you’re good to go.” At your nod, she let out a heavy breath, wiping her hands down subtly on her skirt.

“Nyxie, I’m just going to go sign some forms for you, okay? Do you want to wait here?” He shook his head, eyes widening a bit as his little hand clamped down onto your arm, gripping tightly and shuffling across the seat closer to you. “You want to come with us?”

“Can I have cuddles?” His voice was low and shy, your heart swelling a little more. 

“C’mere.” Opening your arms up for him, his damp cheek fell to your shoulder, nose tucking sweetly into your neck, and you scooped him up, his legs dangling on either side of your body as he slumped against your chest happily. Standing up with a little more effort than usual, Nyx’s hands patted idly over your knitted jumper, body bouncing with each step you took to follow her inside of the office. 

The forms were already laid out, four to be signed, and she pushed the first one over to you. “This one is just to state you acknowledge the injury, the second is a copy for you, because dad requested always having a copy of forms.” Her cheeks flushed with a little colour, the edges of your lips flicking up at Rhys’ quirks. “The third is just an injury form, that you know we’ve given you all the information, and you’re satisfied. The fourth, another copy.”

You quickly signed your name on the first two, pushing one over to her and keeping the other on your side. The pen hovered over the paper of the third, your fingers clenching a little on it, eyes flicking over the page. “What did happen, exactly?”

“Well, uhm…” You rubbed a hand over Nyx’s back, a soft affirmation that you appreciated how patiently he was waiting. Putting on a smile, you tried to put the woman at ease, not having meant to sound quite so… pissed. 

“I know kids have accidents, I didn’t mean to sound so… well, let’s just say, be glad I’m the one that picked up the call. Dad can be overprotective.” The boy in your arms giggled a little, and you placed down the pen, using your hand to now cup his head and rub at his hair lightly. 

“He was playing on the climbing equipment. I think he went a little too high, because he couldn't climb down. Another child was trying to help him, but before anyone could get over to him once we realised he was stuck, he fell off.” Her voice was a lot more confident now, and you were glad you’d been able to ease just a little of that tension. “I can take you out to the equipment and show you what happened, if you’d like?”

“That won’t be necessary.” You grabbed for the pen again, signing both pages, and she pulled one over towards her files as you gathered the other two. 

“Nyx was so brave, weren’t you, huh?” She swiped a finger over his cheek as she passed by to get the door for you again, and he nodded slowly against your body. “And he was so excited when he found out his mommy was coming to get him.”

There was that word again, all of those thoughts coming swarming back in a dizzying rush as you followed her. A hot blush settled on your cheeks, your mouth opening to correct her, before Nyx’s hands were bunching in your jumper as he let out another little giggle, making your lips snap closed again. He hid his face deeper in your shoulder. 

Stooping down to pick up his bags, his teacher placed it over your arm, swinging as you gripped paperwork in one hand and Nyx in the other. “I put all of his schoolwork in his bag. We’ll see you again tomorrow, Nyx!”

She held the door open for you, waving her goodbye as she watched you go, the receptionist looking far more alert now than she had earlier, smiling widely as the two of you left, and you could feel their gazes on you all the way to the parking lot. 

Putting down the paperwork and his bag on the top of the car, you opened it up, leaning in to settle him was like muscle memory now. No longer an awkward act but a practised one, as he slid from your arms and into the chair. Fastening the belt across his middle, you did the ones over his shoulders.

Eyes that were the same incredible shade of near-violet as his father’s were watching you, a ridiculously adorable smile on his face as you leaned in to press a kiss to the uninjured side of his forehead. Tucking his bags on the other side of him, you checked all his straps, not realising you were frowning yourself until his little fingers pinched at your nose. 

“Got a nose!” He whispered excitedly, waving his fingers in a way that was supposed to mock his uncle’s, the way Cassian would always tease that he’d ‘stolen Nyx’s nose’ to cheer him up. When you smiled at him, he pushed his hand back against your face, giggling to himself as he continued to imitate his uncle. “You can have it back!”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” You teased, rubbing over the bridge of your nose and taking him in. Once you were happy with his safety, you closed the door, taking only the paperwork with you and folding them in half, tucking them into the glovebox of the car for safekeeping. When the car turned on, your fingers went to the radio, and a single button pressed had some of Nyx’s favourite songs pouring from the speakers as the kiddie-CD in the player came to life. “We’ll go and see your daddy now, hopefully, he won’t be too upset about your head.”

The boy only hummed to his song, leaning to stare out of the window, breath fogging it up and one hand resting on the windows he watched his school be left behind. “Daddy will be angry with us?”

For all the fresh set of worries now swirling inside of your head at Rhys’ reaction, you’d never considered how Nyx would interpret your words. “Oh, no, of course not, baby. Never us. We make daddy smile, not frown!”

Reaching behind yourself as you came to a stop at the red lights, you squeezed at his knee lightly, retracting it only when the light went yellow. Another few minutes of quiet went past, the roads clear for the middle of the day as you drove, and Nyx was happily taking in all of the Velaris scenery as you passed by. 

From the small town outskirts and into the city centre, it was when you were almost there that Nyx stopped singing and decided to speak again. 

“I heard daddy tell Uncle Azzy on the phone that you make him smile like nobody else ever has.”

Your eyes widened, your foot nearly slamming onto the brake a little too hard as you turned a corner, and Nyx went back to singing his song. Your heart was picking up speed in your chest, the traitorous organ fuelled on hope reacting in a way you tried to resist. Your head was empty, it took a full minute to form your response, and you gave out a croaky laugh. “Were you being cheeky and listening to your dad’s private phone calls again?”

“No!” His voice sounded indignant, but with a look cast in the mirror onto him, you could see the cheeky smirk on his face. “He answered it at dinnertime! I got to say hi to Uncle Azzy. He’s in a whole different country right now, did you know that?”

You could only smile at the excitement in his voice as he spoke all about Azriel’s current escapades in Spain, or at least, the version that was completely safe and child-friendly. Soon, though, his distraction was over, and he was circling back to a topic you had hoped he’d forgotten.

“Daddy loves you. He told Uncle Azzy. And Uncle Cass, and Auntie Mor.”

“Well, now I know you’re telling me fibs.” Releasing your hand from the gearstick at the next red light, you reached it behind you, tickling at his tummy until he laughed loudly and kicked his legs, slapping at your hands weakly as he wriggled in his chair. “He would never tell Uncle Cass about his feelings, because Uncle Cass would tease him!”

“I’m not telling fibs, I’m not!” He gasped the words between breaths, face growing red, and you almost forgot you were sitting at the lights until a car honked behind you, forcing you to pull away. His laughter died down as the car started again, but he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “He did tell him. He said that he loves you, and he thinks that you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”

Your lips pursed, your heart betraying you once again, stomach joining as butterflies erupted until you felt lightheaded, and the weight of his stare on the back of your head was obvious without you even needing to turn. 

In a far less sure voice now, “Do you love daddy?”

You had no idea how to answer that question. You’d known he’d get curious about your friendship with his father soon, you’d just been foolish and selfish enough to hope it was his father that he asked, and so you wouldn't have to handle it. 

Of course you loved Rhysand, but that didn’t make it easy to explain. 

Rhys could never know, the wound of Feyre running away with Tamlin and abandoning Nyx was sure to still be raw, Rhys hadn't been on a date in four years, and if this conversation had confirmed anything, it was that Nyx wasn’t the best secret-keeper. 

Your words had to be chosen carefully.

“Your daddy is my best friend, so, yes. I do love him.” You thought you’d done well, until Nyx made a non-committal sound, another question all ready to go. 

“Does he make you smile?”

“Yes.” Your teeth gritted, the looming office building of the company HQ filling the sky as you pulled up to the security box, not even needing to roll the window down before the gates were buzzing open for you.

“And, do you think he’s the prettiest man in the whole wide world?” His arms flew as wide as they could, and you ignored how endearing it was, choosing a parking spot instead and focusing on your alignment. 

“He’s very pretty, Nyx. Just like you.”

“Then why can’t you be my mommy?” That question felt like a punch to the gut, the car shutting off, silence filling the cabin around you as the engine stopped and the singing CD paused. He was waiting, playing with his fingers and staring at you when you turned to face him. His eyes were wide, confused, and you hated that he felt that way.

“Let’s clean up your face, huh? You’re all dirty.” The words were pathetic, you hated yourself, because avoiding his question meant avoiding your own. You were taking the coward's way out, pulling two wipes from the packet in the dash to wipe at his face. He stayed silent, lips pursed in an unhappy pout, but he didn’t push it. The next time he spoke, it was as you were unclipping him from his car seat and lifting him towards the ground. 

“No, no, no.” He clung to you more, jutting out his lip and putting on puppy eyes he knew worked every time. “More cuddles?”

If it kept him effectively distracted, that was more than enough. Settling him in your arms and locking the car this time, the two of you set off towards the building, Nyx babbling in your ear about everything he could see around him so far.

Upon entering the lobby, his chatter cut off, head lifting from your shoulder to wave excitedly at the assistant behind the main desk. Long ago, you’d felt insecure stepping into this building in nothing but your jeans and a hoodie as everyone else wore dresses and suits and polished heels. Now, even as the elegant woman stood in her pencil skirt to lean over the counter to greet him, you felt at home. “Hi, Ana!”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the day, little mister?” 

He only laughed, leaning out proudly to wave at her, and a new receptionist you didn’t recognise. “We’re here to see Daddy!”

She offered a knowing smile when you pushed his hair back just enough to show off the growing bruise, and turning to the intern beside her. “Take them up to the boss, and let him know.”

With a shaky smile and a polite introduction, she led your group over to one of the elevators, Nyx pulling faces and giggling over your shoulder at Ana the whole time. The ride up to the top floor consisted of Nyx counting the numbers off loudly, tickling them off on his fingers until he couldn't count anymore, and the doors chimed open at level twenty-six.

Guiding the both of you toward the boardrooms, you stopped outside of Rhys’ preferred meeting room, the one with ‘the good coffeepot’ he claimed, a smile flickering on your lips as you spotted his silhouette through the frosted glass while she knocked at the door.

As she entered, you could hear his voice pouring out, the back end of a speech on this year's profit margins that he’d practised on you a hundred times before today, only going quiet as all attention fell to her. “Sir, your wife and son are here.”

Your brows rose at her wording, still sitting high on your forehead as Rhys appeared, closing the door behind him and dismissing her thankfully. Left alone, his gaze flickered over you both, an emotion you still didn’t understand settling on his face when Nyx sat up in your arms, still cuddled against you. 

“Hi, daddy! I got a bump on my head, look!” Pushing his hand over his hair, he moved his fringe out of the way, Rhysand’s eyes going comically wide as he stepped closer to get a look at it. “I fell off the climbing frame!”

His frantic gaze swept to you as he ran a thumb over his son’s forehead, the other hand settling on your hip subconsciously, but all your attention seemed to fix on the way his thumb swept over your waist in a matching way. 

“I took care of it all, don’t worry.” You mustered the best smile you could, getting a whiff of his expensive work cologne when he dipped down to press a kiss to the same spot you had when tucking Nyx into the car. He examined the cut a little more, frowning at the mark on his son’s face, and you wanted to say something, to reassure him, to quash the thoughts about being a bad father that you knew were flying through his head. Before you could speak, though, he was acting once again.

He nodded, seeming to have already fought the war inside his own mind, and if the way his shoulder’s slumped from their tightened position, he’d won this one. Leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead too, your breath caught in your throat at the intimate brush of his lips over your skin. Rhysand had always been affectionate, this part of your friendship was nothing new, but somehow, it had become so much more than a flirty comment or wink. Your eyes fluttered shut, pressing selfishly into that hint of affection as it dragged on just a second too long, warmth coating your cheeks when he pulled back. 

“Give me five minutes to finish this meeting up, wait in my office.” His attention moved to his son. “You can get one toy out, just one.”

At the mention of the toy-box tucked away in the back corner of the office, Nyx’s face lit up, hands clapping together excitedly, and Rhys chuckled at him. “Do you need anything?”

“We’ll be fine.” You’d been to his office more times than you could count, knowing the building like the back of your hand. “Go finish up, gods know you didn’t make me suffer through your rehearsals a thousand times just to mess it all up now.”

He only smirked, adjusting his blazer and ruffling his son’s hair, cautious of his injury. “I’ll be with you soon, darling.” Before you could respond, he was placing a quick kiss on your cheek, and backing away and returning to work, the door closing behind him. 

When you stared at his empty space a little too long, Nyx let out an impatient sigh. “I want to play with the racing cars, darling.”

“Hey, now, cheeky! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were feeling absolutely fine, and perhaps I should take you back to school!” 

Nyx burst out into more laughter, shaking his head and clinging to you. Even if his movements did make it harder to carry him, you didn’t care, grinning at the enthusiasm and excitement on his face. As soon as you had the office door open, he was squirming in your arms to get down, racing over to the box in the corner the second his feet were touching the floor. 

Tearing off the lid, you flicked the light on, shutting the door and frowning as he began to pile toys up all along the floor. “Nyx, your dad just told you only one toy. Pick one, put the rest back.”

“But the cars all count as one, I have to get the whole set out!”

“Nope. You know that’s not how it works.” He scowled, but remained silent, making a point of pulling out the black truck with flames on the wheels, the one you hated, because it made terrible sound effects of grating engines and monster trucks. Piling the rest of the toys back inside haphazardly, the lid remained off the box, and he switched the volume up, glancing at you as he did. You only granted him a sigh, collapsing down into the plush leather chair of Rhysand’s desk.

Five minutes of watching Nyx push the truck around the floor and over every surface as he made car sounds himself soon slipped into ten. He changed toys to a small fluffy dog, and at fifteen minutes, an action figure. Just as he was setting up for his meeting with the plastic army man, Rhys appeared at the door, tugging his tie loose and smiling when you straightened in his chair. 

Tucking the tie down into his suit pocket, he circled the desk, eyeing Nyx on the floor, who didn’t even bother to look up from his life-or-death mission. Taking a seat in one of the cushioned meeting chairs on the other side of the desk, he turned a questioning gaze to you, raising an eyebrow.

“He climbed too high on the climbing frame at school, and slipped when another kid tried to help him down. He got all checked out by the school first aid, he’s totally fine. No dizziness or headaches or nausea, nothing wrong. Just a bruise and a bump.” It didn’t stop Rhys from worrying, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as his gaze moved back to his joyfully-distracted son. “Rhys.”

He didn’t look up, biting down on that lip harder. With one hand, he popped free the button on his collar, and the one below, taking a deep breath. 

“Rhysand.” With a firmer tone, you managed to gain his attention, a reluctant stare shifting to you, and you held your hands out across the desk, palms up. Wiggling your fingers, he placed one hand in both of yours, sighing sadly at the look on your face as you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Nyx is fine, I made sure of it. I checked him out myself, signed the forms after reading them, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. Look at him. He’s perfectly okay.”

“I’m sorry you had to leave work.” He whispered, ashamed gaze trailing to your joined hands, the edges of his lips barely flickering as you smoothed your thumbs over his knuckles. He squeezed a little harder, tugging a little closer, ensuring you weren’t letting go just yet. You’d had no intention to, anyway.

Tugging on your hands a little more, he guided you around the desk, back to your feet until you were standing before him, between his knees, and he could tip forwards to brace his head against your ribs. He still held tight to one of your hands, running his fingers over your skin now, but you managed to fight one hand free. With it, you patted his hair softly, smoothing over it until he let out a shaky but light breath. 

“Thank you.”

“You know I’d do anything for you two. Absolutely anything, you have nothing to thank me for, or say sorry for.” He only nodded, tipping his head up enough that the tip of his nose dragged over your skin, until his chin was propped there instead, glancing up at you.

“Not true, I’m thankful for you every single day.”

You willed your body not to react, not to give you away, other than the small smile you offered him, settling with your hand on the nape of his neck for a second. It was intimate, romantic, far too much for friendship, and the sudden flash of thought made your spine stiffen, and your hand retract down to sit safely on his shoulder instead. “Rhys?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Why does Nyx’s school have me listed as his mother?”

He blinked, once. “What?”

“When they called, they asked me if I was his mom, and I never got a chance to correct her before she was telling me everything. Then when I got there, she said it again.”

He was silent for a moment, before sitting up once again, disentangling himself from you and putting on an easy-going smile to match his shrug as he slumped back into the seat. “I have no idea. Maybe she just got confused, or forgot.”

“Okay…” You gave only a moment's pause, leaning yourself on the edge of the desk beside you, and crossing your arms. “Well, why does your receptionist think I’m your wife?”

“She’s new.” The words rolled off of his tongue so fast it was like he’d planned them, your brows shooting up a little. “I mean, you come in here carrying Nyx, and what else would she know?”

Despite his casual demeanour, a soft layer of pink tinged those tan cheeks, so faint you’d hardly notice it if you weren’t so good at reading him. His eyes studied you for a second, a deep look as he stared, gaze taking you in just as much as you seemed to take him in. There was a lull, a pause, like so many moments lately where the air seemed positively charged between you both, lingering on an adrenaline-filled precipice and just waiting for something to happen.

Rhys broke it, just a second before it would have become too much for you, too. Clearing his throat, he caught Nyx’s attention. “Why don’t we go and get some ice-cream, buddy? Put the toy away and we can go right now.”

“Before dinner?” The child’s eyes widened, throwing the army man into the box without a care for the way he slammed off of the wall, all love gone now at the mention of ice-cream. Clicking the lid back into place, you watched them interact in a daze, the joking and chatter becoming background noise. 

You’d never given yourself a chance to think before, too scared to get your heart broken and to lose them both, but a small flame of hope in the back of your heart had been steadily growing bigger and brighter, and it was starting to become hard to ignore. 

Only when a small hand slipped into yours did you snap out of it, Nyx swinging happily with one hand in yours and the other in his father’s, telling him all about the school work he’d done as Rhysand grabbed for his briefcase and coat. Once he’d acquired them, you were on the move, trailing through the building in much the same way, swinging Nyx between your bodies and letting him bounce excitedly at the prospect of frozen sugar before a healthy meal. 

As you wandered through the lobby, you took stock of yourselves, noting just how much the three of you really did resemble a family. The receptionist would be right to assume, simply from what it looked like. And, even if the teacher did know you hadn't been, from the number of mornings you’d dropped Nyx at school or picked him up at the end of the day, it could easily be misread as merely a development in a complicated relationship. 

Perhaps, it was nothing more than a misunderstanding, and Rhys was right. 

The butterflies in your stomach died down to a heavy weight. One of both relief, and disappointment you refused to acknowledge, the hot flush of anxiety cooling into a steady calm, and you were finally able to take a deep breath once again as you reached the car.

“We just need to grab his bag and forms from my car, and-”

“You’re not coming for ice-cream?” Rhys’ head snapped up from where he’d been looking down at his son, brows furrowing at you, and Nyx fell silent, turning to stare up with an identical look of confusion. 

“You don’t like ice-cream?” He echoed in his father’s tone, the two were far too alike for your good, and Nyx was nothing if not a clone of his father. One silver lining had always been that Nyx seemed to be 99% Rhys, only getting 1% from his mother. It was the smattering of freckles over his nose that only came out in the summer.

“Of course, I like ice-cream.” You tapped at the tip of Nyx’s nose and he beamed.

“So, you’re gonna’ come with us, then?” Your gaze moved from him, to Rhys, whose brows only furrowed further. 

“What’re you lookin’ at me for? You know you’ve always got a place with us. Frankly, if you decided to move in tomorrow, I wouldn't bat an eye.”

Your eyes rolled, and when you were looking back at him, he was grinning. “What about my car?”

“I’ll drive you back here to get it.”

“What about work?” You motioned to the building behind you, and he opened his car door, motioning for Nyx to hop up into the back. 

“I own the company, I can take off an afternoon to be with the people I care about.”

“What about-” He leaned in close enough that your noses almost brushed, a smirk forming on his lips at the hitch in your breath, cutting off your words.

“Shut up, get in the car, and let me take my family for ice-cream.”

You couldn’t breathe, never mind form a response, that word ricocheting through the inside of your skull like a bullet. Nudging you to the side, Rhys opened the passenger door, motioning you too, until you were sinking into the spacious car and letting him close the door behind you. 

By the time he’d strapped in his son and gotten into the car himself, you’d regained your calm and your ability to speak. “You’re bossy.”

“I’m the boss.”

“Not in this car, you’re not.” You muttered under your breath, his chuckle only dulled by the purr of the engine as the SUV roared to life. Setting the car into gear, he cast a cheeky look in your direction. 

“Oh, I know. You’ve been calling the shots here since the day I met you, and I’m just fine with that.”

He settled a hand on your knee, innocently enough, after turning on kid’s songs to match your car to keep Nyx happy. He never flinched, never even glanced at his hand on you, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world. The scariest part, was that it felt exactly that way to you, too.

Nothing about it seemed wrong, or off, and the longer you stared at his hand, the more you wanted to take it. To lace your fingers together, set your hands in your lap after kissing his knuckles. Despite your attempts to push it down, it was seeming more and more like your ignorance of your situationship with Rhysand was making itself known.

It didn’t make sense. You were perfect together, in every other way, so why had he never made a move in this way? The spike of confused pain through your chest stung like a needle through the heart.

The drive to the ice-cream parlour didn’t give you much time to think, everything today was too fast, not enough time to think or clear your head. Before you knew it, you were pulled to a stop, Rhys climbing from the car to release his son who was practically tearing out of his car-seat to get to his favourite dessert store. He could have done with the run, the walk, anything to burn off some of that energy, but Rhys scooped him up into his arms, pressing several kisses to his son’s head, who only moaned and pushed at his father’s head.

He didn’t want kisses, he wanted sprinkles.

Too bad Rhys was beating himself up again about it all. Freeing yourself from the car to alleviate his worries, you squeezed his arm as you stepped out, shooting him a look to tell him that Nyx was more than okay. “One bumped head does not make you the world’s worst dad. Kids have accidents all the time, but look how happy he is right now.”

He didn’t need to look, shuffling his son to his hip and reaching out for your hand instead as he nodded. Lifting it up, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before lacing your fingers together.

There was a bell tinkling over your head as Rhysand guided you into the cold store, looking for all the world, once again, like a real family, and you allowed yourself a few selfish seconds to eat it up. Finally, Nyx gained his freedom, darting over to the large glass display cabinet and plastering himself to the front of it as he took in all the flavours available today.

By the time the two of you had reached the front of the queue, he’d seemingly made up his mind, turning to stare at you both with a look on his face that could only mean trouble. 

“You pick what you want, bud?”

Rhys’ cautious tone meant he’d picked it up too, his hand squeezing a little tighter around your own when you chuckled, cutting you a glare as Nyx rolled on the balls of his feet and nodded. “I want the chocolate fudge, two scoops,” He held up two small fingers, for emphasis. “With chocolate sauce and the little fudge-chunk sprinkles.”

The woman behind the counter only laughed, staring down at him adoringly as he placed his hands on his hips, expectantly. Rhys’ eyes widened, his head shaking a little. “How about vanilla, with strawberry sauce, and rainbow sprinkles?”

“Ew, yucky, no.” Nyx’s face crumpled, and Rhysand’s jaw dropped, glancing from his son to you, and back. 

“It was your favourite last time.”

“But, this time my favourite is chocolate fudge with chocolate sauce and fudge chunks, Daddy!” Nyx stated it like it was obvious, and you tugged on your connected hands to bring an indignant Rhys’ attention to you. 

“Oh, let him have his chocolate-fudge extravaganza, he bumped his head.” Rhys’ only scowled, muttering under his breath about being ‘ganged up on’, before nodding to the woman behind the till but indicating for only one scoop. 

“You’re putting him to bed when he gets a sugar rush.” Was all Rhys could snipe back with, a smile forming on your lips against your control once again, letting him lead you over to the display stand as Nyx watched his ice-cream being constructed with rapt attention. Turning from the cabinet to you, he nudged his nose lightly against your temple, a feeling that had blood rushing to your cheeks and your head spinning at the intimacy. “The usual?”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke a little as you spoke the single syllable, and had you been capable of speaking properly at the time, you were sure you’d have been a little more embarrassed about it. 

“One raspberry victoria-sponge chunk ice-cream with, two scoops, and one triple-scoop rocky road.” He added to the order, the woman only nodding, piling them up on top of the counter as Nyx tried to reach for his, sparkles in his eyes as he stared at his sickly-sweet monstrosity in awe. 

Lifting it down for him, you stuck a wooden spoon into the cardboard cup holding it, a soft ‘thank you’ tumbling from his lips as he accepted it, cradling the pot patiently in his hands like it was a rare treasure. You remembered the same look being on Rhys’ face when he’d first held his son, the same tender and gentle astonishment, the shock in his eyes at something so special. You could only smile. 

“Darling,” Rhys tugged on your arm, your head snapping up from Nyx to look at him, only to find both his eyes and the servers on you. You hummed, brows raising, and watching Rhys balancing two ice-cream cones in his hand. “I said, can you get my wallet? It’s in my jacket pocket, your side.”

“Oh! Right, sure.” Twisting to him, he smoothed his thumb over your hand in silent appreciation as you rooted around the inside of his pocket, fingers brushing across worn black leather, and pulling it free. 

You were more than familiar with Rhys’ money and his cards, he often handed you a small fold of notes or one of his shiny cards whenever you took Nyx out or needed to buy something, refusing to ever let you pay, but you rarely held the whole wallet.

Flipping it open, your eyes scanned over the folds inside to search for the right card, but your gaze snagged on the fold of an image inside. Pinned lightly behind clear plastic, the image preserved perfectly, was a picture of you and Nyx. You remembered the moment clearly, you’d been out with the whole family, one of the rare moments that Azriel had been home at the same time Mor was back from travels and Cassian had a day off. Amren even freed the day up to sit in the park with you all, celebrating Nyx’s third birthday. Mor had been on her Polaroid camera hype, and you didn’t even know she’d snapped this picture. 

Nyx’s hands were on your face, pushing your sunglasses on upside down after he’d finished playing with them. He was stood between your legs, the sundress you’d worn that day still had small stains from the muddy bottoms of his shoes, but the smile on his face that was caught in the picture was worth it. You rubbed a hand over the plastic protecting it, treasuring that day with all of your heart, and uncovering Rhys’ writing at the bottom as you did.

‘My loves’.

“Darling, the purple card. C’mon, the ice-cream is getting warm.” He nudged you again, Nyx staring pleadingly from the ground below as he clutched his treat, still waiting, and you slipped the purple card out with your thumb. Tapping it against the car reader and being sure to add a tip to compensate for your daydreaming, you slid the card back, sliding the wallet back into his pocket as the three of you found a table.

Just because you could no longer see the picture, didn’t mean it, and, more importantly, the caption, wasn’t seared into your mind. My loves. If he truly felt that way, why hadn't Rhysand ever made a move? It didn’t make sense, you’d been here since before Nyx had even been born, almost a decade of best-friendship and flirty comments that never became anything more, while secretly harbouring a picture of you in his wallet and holding your hand, kissing your forehead and smiling in a way that read as far more than just friends.

You’d barely even settled into the booth before Nyx was digging into his ice-cream, and your hand finally being freed and you were given your cone. Twisting it around and towards yourself, your eyes narrowed a little on the chunk missing from the side, somewhere where an obviously large piece of cake had been pulled out, and your glare turned to Rhys.

“You ate some of my ice-cream?”

“We always share, stop acting so surprised about it.” He grinned, taking a large scoop from his own, and you scowled at him. 

“I hadn't even tried it yet, and you ate the best piece of cake!” He only smirked. 

“Do you want to try my ice-cream?” Nyx offered, and you turned to look at him across the table. His hand was gripping the spoon like he was stirring in a cauldron, the contents inside had been churned up into a gloopy mess, and he held a spoonful of it out to you, chocolate and fudge-covered cheeks stretched in a smile. 

“That’s okay, Nyxie, it’s all for you.” You passed your cone back to Rhys after unwrapping the napkin from around it. “Hold this, and don’t eat any more.”

He nodded dutifully, but eyed another piece of cake hidden within the ice-cream nonetheless, as he ate his own. There was a particularly large piece of dark chocolate with a marshmallow on the side of his own that he’d yet to notice, and you stored that away for revenge. Reaching across the table, you wiped at Nyx’s cheeks, unsure why you’d bothered since he was only going to end up in the same state again soon, but you did your best with the sticky mess anyway.

You gave up when he got ice-cream on your hand too, refusing to pause eating even when you tried to clean him up. Leaving the scrunched-up napkin on the table, his father only chuckled in your ear and handed you your cone back. Turning to him, you held out your other hand. Wiggling your fingers, his face pinched for a second, before he sighed, giving in. He pulled that same face every time, despite being right that you always shared, a victorious smile on your face. 

You made a point of turning the cone, flashing the delicious chunk of chocolate and marshmallow to him, watching his jaw drop to stop you, but not fast enough. Clamping your mouth down around it, you pulled the chunk free, chocolate melting across your tongue as you let out a moan of appreciation.

His eyes flared, leaning in and snatching his cone back, but leaving his face close enough to your own that when you licked over your lips, you almost licked him too. “You’re so cruel to me.”

“Payback is a… well, you know the saying.” You smirked, ensuring not to swear in front of the child across the table from you both, and he only growled a little. His eyes flickered over your face, every spot his gaze touched made your skin burst out with heat, lingering for a moment on your mouth. He smirked, raising a hand, and brushing his thumb along the edge of your mouth as he pulled back a fraction.

“You missed a spot.” He breathed, thumb slipping to settle on your chin instead, and his eyes found yours once again. The air between you both crackled like it never had before, electricity sparking between you both again, but so much more intense. “I, uhm, I’ve been meaning to talk to you lately...”

“Yeah? Well, we never see each other, I can see how it’d be hard to find the time.” You teased, his softly sighed laugh brushing over your face as his gaze held yours. Smoothing his thumb along your jaw until he was cupping your face, it was only when a drop of ice-cream dripped from your cone and onto your finger, the cold sending a jolt through you that made you gasp and snap back. 

Glancing down at it, you winced, licking away any more drops that looked like they may fall, and using Nyx’s napkin to wipe your fingers. When you turned back to Rhys he was facing the table again, eating his ice-cream and acting as though nothing had happened. The bubble was broken, whatever he was going to say he clearly wasn’t planning on anymore, and so you let it pass.

You ate your ice-creams together, conversation steadily flowing onto other topics, far safer ones, no doubt, and you did your best to clean up Nyx’s face once again. Smears of chocolate covered his cheeks, and you knew Rhys would have to scrub it off later before bed. 

The ride back to the office was where you grew to regret convincing Rhysand to allow Nyx’s choice, his sugar rush beginning to kick in at full force. He screamed his songs at the top of his lungs, loud enough to make you both wince as you drove, bouncing chaotically in his seat and threatening to break right out like a miniature beast. 

The hand, now sitting on your lower thigh rather than your knee, squeezed at a particularly loud shriek as he played with the window settings, up and down, up and down. “This is your fault.”

“I know!” You wailed, glancing back at Nyx, who was all but vibrating as he rocked side to side, giggling hysterically to himself. “I figured the sauce would be sugar-free, and fudge isn’t that much sugar, it’s like-”

“It’s half sugar!”

“What?” Your eyes widened a little, turning to look at Rhys with wide eyes, and he contained his laughter as he watched the road, trying to tune out the din from the backseat. “Regardless, I apologise for this.” There would be no calming him now.

Rhys rubbed his hand up and down your thigh softly. “I already told you, that's your problem. You think I’m going to let you go home and leave me with this?”

“I have some very important work to do-”

“Liar.” He called your bluff, and you scowled, turning your glare on his hand as it set warmth firing along all of your nerves. 

When he finally pulled back into the parking lot, it was considerably emptier than it had been when you’d left, and he spun to park across two full spaces into place beside your car. He left the car with a happy sigh, closing the noise that his son was making inside the vehicle, and rolling his neck from side to side. Finally, he opened his son’s side, lifting the boy from his chair and setting him on the concrete, where he immediately began to jump up and down, holding onto his dad’s hand.

The pair accompanied you to your car, retrieving the school bags and taking them back to their own while you gathered the correct forms from the glovebox, meeting him by the back of the SUV that made your car look tiny in comparison. You pressed them into his hands, and he tucked them into the front pocket of Nyx’s bag, setting his son off to put the bags away, who remarkably, did as told.

“I know you said no thanks, but, thank you for today. I mean it, you were so wonderful. You’re always so wonderful, I couldn't do any of this without you.”

“Any time, Rhys. You know that.” He shrugged, hands tucking into the pockets of his smart pants, leaning against the side of the car only a foot away from you.

“I know, but that doesn’t make me any less lucky to have found you, and to get to keep you in my life.” 

Small padding of feet came rushing back, bags no longer in sight but a picture clutched in his hands to be held up in the air as he came to a stop. It was decorated with pieces of glued-on dried pasta, glitter and sequins, and some splatters of paint. The most important part, though, was the drawing at the bottom. 

You’d grown used to his style of drawing now, easily able to pick out what each scribble was supposed to be, or rather, who each scribble was supposed to be, and the attempt at writing underneath. It didn’t matter, though, because he was quick to enthusiastically point it all out. 

“Look, look! It’s us! This is daddy, in purple. And this is you in blue, because it’s your favourite colour. And this is me! I’m wearing a crown.” His chest puffed up proudly, the broken piece of pasta on his head acting like a crown, and you traced the words written in matching colours under each figure. 

Daddy. Nyx. Mommy.

Casting a look up, Rhys was staring at the paper, a horribly crushing mix of longing and pain in his eyes as he stared at it, throat bobbing in a swallow, before he was blinking it away. He’d always been good at playing another role, hiding his feelings when he needed to, but you’d caught him too many times. 

All the pining and want, you’d always assumed it had been for Feyre, for the missing woman who had birthed his son, but when his eyes met yours, the façade cracking just a touch, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe it was for you. Whatever it was today, this last few months, it was something new. It was like those walls you’d built up were finally crumbling, he was fighting through his own, and he let out a shaky sigh. 

He let Nyx lower the photo, occupied with admiring his artwork. He leaned down, lips finding your cheek and lingering there in a soft kiss. You hooked a finger under his chin, twisting his head up until your noses were brushing, his eyes snapping open wide before you, as your lips brushed lightly. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I was thinking about kissing you.” You whispered, your voice shaking as you second-guessed yourself, second-guessed it all. His hand found your hip, smoothing around to sit on your lower back and tugging you close enough that your chests pressed together, his forehead resting on yours. 

He didn’t pull away, he didn’t stop you, he just gave you your chance to decide. 

So, you did. 

You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a delicate kiss that set your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and drew a soft noise from Rhys as he tightened his hold on you. After only a second of hesitation, he kissed you back, a push and pull with his lips that was as intoxicating as it was grounding. You felt like you were floating, tethered only to him as you gave into a desire you never thought you could have, his lips melding to yours in slow drags. 

It felt like it went on forever, and you were certain that you could easily have stayed there, just like that, for the rest of your life. 

When he let you breathe, when your mouths fell only an inch apart, you wanted to nudge closer to him once again, to seal yourself back to him, to sink into him wholly and entirely and never come apart again. If the tight grip he had on your hip was any indication, Rhysand felt the same way.

The fog cleared after a few moments, and he shifted back some more, eyes fluttering open once again, and this time, they were filled with questions. Swirling in the violet like a storm brewing at dusk, and you lifted a hand, running a finger over his cheek lightly, and smiling when his head tipped into your touch. 

“I’m so telling Uncle Azzy that you kissed Daddy.”

You practically jumped out of your skin, having forgotten about the babbling little boy at your feet, who was now staring up at you both in nothing but shock and smugness, one hand planted on his hip as the picture that had sealed the deal hung limply from the other.

“Daddy and-” You scooped him up before he could even get started into that little riddle, the taunting making your cheeks warm, even if he was only four, and making your way back toward the car. Rhys shuffled along behind you in a silent daze, holding the door open for you and standing by as you tucked Nyx back into his car seat. He never gave up on his childlike-smirk. 

“How about some dinner, huh? A little someone can have his favourite mac n’ cheese.”

“It's me! It’s me!” He cheered happily, and you took the opportunity while his arms were raised to strap the belt around his waist, sealing him back into the chair as his arms strapped through the other two. “I’m calling Uncle Azzy tonight. And Uncle Cassie.”

“You do that, Nyxie.” You bopped the end of his nose, switching on the small TV set that was attached to the headrest to face his way, and watching it load up. You could feel Rhys’ stare burning into you, like a fire crawling along your skin, impatient and needy and desperate for answers, making you grateful for this small distraction as you scrolled the shows on the tablet.

Like a warning, a warning not to make him wait much longer, Rhys settled one large hand over your hip, squeezing tightly and tugging you a fraction out of the car towards him, a shiver travelling down your spine. You hit play on the first show up. 

Backing out of the car to close the door, you didn’t get far, Rhys didn’t move, only pulling your body back into his with the grip on your waist, slamming the door shut for you and leaving you pressed to him. In a quick spin, he had your back pressed to the cold metal of the car, out of sight of his son and closed in by your own, the cold metal making for a relieving contrast to the heat. 

“Do it again.” There was a pleading note to his voice, his sights fixed entirely on your mouth now as he bit down on his lower lip, his forehead coming to rest on yours. “Kiss me again.”

You took your time, teasing him just a little, by running your hands up his arms, over his shoulders as he tensed, until you were holding his face. He sagged closer to you, like he couldn't even hold himself up anymore, pinning you between his body and the car. With a sweep of your thumbs over his cheeks, his eyes closed, noses brushing in sweet motions until he gave an aggravated breath at the waiting.

At long last, you gave in, closing the gap between you both once again. This time, he let out a soft moan when your mouths connected. He kissed like a man starved, like a man who had waited every moment of his life for this. It was like your first taste of air after being underwater, his mouth insistent and unrelenting, like he was memorising the way it felt to kiss you.

You gave him all you had, committing every part of him to memory too. Every sound he made, the way he panted against your lips before diving back in, teeth scraping your lower lip and sucking softly, before following it with a sharp nip. He ruined everyone else, no kiss you’d ever had compared to this and nothing else ever would. 

When his tongue smoothed over your lower lip, you were forced to pull back, to try and think somewhat clearly, one of you had to, because if you let this go on anymore, you weren’t sure you could stop. His hand was already shifting, exploring, dragging his fingertips up your spine to tangle in your hair, and you lowered yours to his shoulders, pushing him back just enough to take a breath that didn’t taste like him. 

He groaned, licking over his swollen lips to take away the taste of you, his eyes darker than before when they found you again, and you pressed your lips together to fight temptation. “You should… you should get our boy home.”

At that, he blinked, his gaze softening endlessly at the endearing claim, and his hand let your hair go to slip back to your back. Pulling you closer, he pressed a wet kiss to your cheek, nodding against your temple as he left a kiss there too. When he pulled back, it was to simply stare. There was nothing hidden now, the kind of dumb-in-love look shining in his eyes that you couldn't miss. Had it always been there, and you’d just never seen it before, or had he just stopped hiding it?

“You okay, Rhysie?”

He melted into you at the nickname you rarely brought out, eyes shining as he continued to stare. “So, so very okay, darling.”

Silence lingered between you both, the same comfortable quiet it had been since day one. No matter what, no matter how anxious or nervous or rattling, Rhys always had a way of making you feel at ease. You felt so vulnerable, and yet so safe with him, voice coming out in a whisper to speak into the gap between you both, “Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”

“Are you going to ask me if we can have carbonara with chicken for dinner again?” He teased, putting your nerves even more at ease, or maybe it was for his own, by making a joke. 

You indulged him, “It’s a classic for a reason, because it’s so good. Besides, who said I’m coming for dinner, anyway?”

“You think there’s any way I’m going to be able to let go of you now?” He mumbled, head dropping down to rest on your shoulder instead, and you chuckled, feeling his lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder through your jumper. “What did you really want to ask?”

That brought the nerves back in full force. “Why did nothing ever, y’know, happen between us?”

His head snapped up, eyes widening to look at you, but no words came from his parted lips. 

“Don’t you ever think about it, Rhys? I mean, look at us. There’s so much that would work, and I guess-”

“Of course I think about it.” He breathed the words in a rush, and your jaw snapped shut as words finally began to pour out of him, unrestrained and uncontrolled. “I think about it all the time. Every minute of every day you’re on my mind.”

“Rhys…” He let out a slow breath, but there was no stopping him now. You’d uncorked the bottle, the contents unable to be stopped from spilling. 

“Since the day I met you all those years ago, I knew that I would hold onto you for the rest of my life. I couldn't let you go. But, I was a stupid kid who just inherited a company, and I was terrified of that. I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. You just dropped into my life and filled holes and cracks I didn’t know I had, you made me feel complete. I fell for you, so hard and so fast, and I was so godsdamned scared of that.” He looked away, unable to look at you any longer, and swallowing thickly. 

“So, we became friends…”

“So, we became friends.” He repeated, sighing like he couldn't hold the weight of the world anymore. “I thought, selfishly, that I could hold onto you as my best friend, until I was ready for more. That it would be fine. I was too slow, though, and you started dating Lucien.”

Your mind flickered back, hardly remembering the man you’d been with for only a couple of months almost six years ago, flashes of red hair and tanned skin in your mind recalling it.

“He was good to you, and I hated that. I hated him, but I wanted you to be happy. But, I was so miserable. I was so sickeningly, maddeningly, obviously in love with you, and I had to do something before you noticed. So, I dated Feyre. It wasn’t… we moved too quickly, too fast. I threw myself into it and then she got pregnant. Nyx came along, and she abandoned him. I thought I’d lose you too. I was scared again, but you stayed. You helped with everything, you made it better.” 

His voice started to crack, and so your arms raised, looping around his neck, pulling him in until his forehead was pressed to your own. 

“I wasn’t scared when you were there. You taught me everything, you stayed for every step. I knew within days that you should have been Nyx’s mother, that being with you like this was all I’d ever want, I started to want everything cliché, a white picket fence and a little house of our own and a street where Nyx could learn to ride a bike with us. I mean, I picked out the house you liked best from the viewings even though it was gonna cost so fuckin’ much to renovate and repair and clean, but it was so worth it.” He laughed emptily, and you sniffed back tears.

“I had no idea.”

“I know, I never told you. I wanted you to see your dream house without the guilt.” He rubbed at his nose, and you kissed his cheeks, feeling him smile under your lips as you did, stopping the tears clinging to his lashes from falling. “But, you were still with Lucien, so I settled to take what I could get. If having you as my friend, helping me raise him like this, was all I could ever have, I’d take it. Then, you weren’t, and I thought maybe you’d be heartbroken about your break-up, or sad, and I wanted to give you time. I gave you too much time, I was a coward, I was nothing but a lonely man who already had a son. I couldn't offer you all the things you wanted anymore. I couldn't travel or go out and party or do anything. I’m always working or with my boy, and I didn’t want you to be forced to take that on.”

You were shocked, his candour had left you breathless, and he sniffled lightly, blinking away the tears he was unwilling to let drop. “We broke up because of you.”

“What?” He let himself look up, to you, of all the expectations he’d seemingly braced himself for, this obviously wasn’t it.

“Lucien and I. He- he said, understandably, that it felt strange to have a relationship with a woman who was practically a part of another family. It made him feel like some sort of home-wrecker. He didn’t say it, and he never would’ve, he was a good man, but it was a choice. You and Nyx, or him.” Giving the best smile you could despite the emotions overwhelming you, he matched it with a watery laugh. “I didn’t even have to think about it. That’s why I was never sad.”

“You chose us.”

“I’ll always choose you.” Your smiles were real this time, shared and intimate and frighteningly tender. “So, the real question, is whether you’re still sickeningly, maddeningly in love with me?”

“You forgot ‘obviously’. I can’t believe you don’t know it, I haven’t been subtle. I tell everyone you’re my wife, and let them believe you’re Nyx’s mom.” Your scoff only made him smirk, smacking at his shoulder lightly, pushing him away only to have him grip you tighter, tugging you closer to him. 

“I knew those weren’t ‘little mistakes’, or miscommunications!” He only shrugged, dipping back in, every intention clear as he moved slowly. 

“I intended to tell you today, and so many other times, but I was always so scared of losing you.” The confession hung between you both, the unspoken promises and words as he tried to give you a chance to leave, to back away, to call it too much, but you didn’t. 

You let him kiss you, let him kiss you until your lungs burned for oxygen and your head was spinning, and it felt like hours had passed by as you learned one another’s mouths. You let him kiss you until you were sure he understood that you felt the same, that you always had.

“I still love you. I will always love you. You don’t just get over this kind of love.”

You could only grin at him, cheeks aching but you didn’t care, because you couldn't have contained your happiness even if you’d wanted to. “Good, because it would have been horrible if my feelings were unrequited.”

“Never.” A few more stolen kisses, mumbled promises between them. “So, you’ll follow us home for dinner?”

The leap in your chest at the word home was enough to make you breathless, the knowledge you now had that he’d chosen it just for you, in hopes you’d one day live with them. It was almost too much to bear. “Only if you’re making carbonara. And garlic bread.”

“I’ll make you anything you want if it means you’ll keep kissing me.” You hummed, pressing another peck to his lips before managing to disentangle yourself, despite his complaints and tight hold.

“I’ll see you soon, where we can continue this.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll miss you too much.” He winked, looking messy and kiss-ruined as you stepped back to fully take him in. His shirt was rumpled, his blazer was a little askew, and his cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips to match. 

He was perfect. 

“Hurry home to us, darling.”

[your-averagewriter]

Lipstick kisses.

Summary: At the wrap party, Cooper and (y/n) get closer and closer before (y/n) leaves him with some lipstick marks as a reminder and a promise for later (pre apocalypse!Cooper Howard x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: kissing, sexual references

-

-

“Right here in the vaults is where you can live, so get your spot now before they run out and you can be as happy as us.” I say, looking into the camera, wearing a Vault-Tec suit that is molded to my body. Cooper’s arm is wrapped around my waist as we wear matching smiles, playing husband and wife for one of the new ads. They’re cheesy but they pay well and afford me a spot in one of the vaults which I wouldn’t be able to pay for myself.

“She’s right.” He places a well-planned kiss on my cheek. “It’s as easy as pie.” Cooper says, winking and dipping his finger in the apple pie they left for the shoot. “These walls allow us to stay safe and live the all-American lifestyle, they keep out the radiation and the Reds.” He says into the camera and it finishes filming.

“That’s a wrap.” Someone from behind the camera says.

“Great, are we done then?” I ask and everyone disperses, including Cooper and me.

“Wrap party.” Someone pats me on the shoulder, I turn around and it’s Cooper.

“Wrap party? We’ve only filmed a few ads, it’s not like we filmed a movie.”

“Damn feels like it sometimes with all the takes.” I chuckle.

“So where’s the party?”

“My house starts at 8:00, most people won’t turn up until past 8:30 - you know how parties go.”

“Well, I’ll see you later then.” I say with a small smile before walking away to get into my usual clothes and head home before going to Coop’s party.

Getting home, I lay out my outfit, picking out a long red dress that is form-fitting and pack a little black handbag with my matching lipstick, a box of cigarettes, a lighter, keys and phone. Double-checking my makeup in the mirror, I slip on my heels before leaving and driving to Cooper’s house.

There’s a crash on one of the roads so the traffic is awful as I try to get to the wrap party but I end up getting there quite a bit later than expected - definitely past 8:30. Finally I pull up, having to park down the hill a little due to all the good car spaces already being taken.

It’s a short walk to get to his house, when I go to knock on the door, it’s already open and I can hear the music vibrating throughout the house. 

I navigate my way through the people, talking to some as they greet me - being one of the main actors in the advertiser means my name is plastered on the billboards. I find the kitchen easily despite the people crowding it and pour myself a drink in the tacky red cups.

I busy myself with the drink, trying to ignore the eyes on my figure, noticing that I didn’t understand the dress code, ending up in a much fancier outfit than anyone else. Tiring of the loud noise and not seeing anyone I truly knew, I head outside, walking over to one of the benches, facing away from the building and towards the pool and pulling out my cigarette pack and lighter. I place a cigarette in between my lips and try to light it but my lighter doesn’t work. 

I flick the lighter again and again.

“Hey darlin’, need some help?” I turn around to face Cooper with his lighter in hand. Looking up at him, he lights the cigarette for me.

“Thanks.” He sits down on the bench next to me.

“Not enjoying the party, sweetheart?”

“I don’t really know anyone here. They’re all on the business side of things and they seem to know me, it freaks me out.” I chuckle, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“Well, at least you look the part.” He grins. “You look stunnin’.”

“Thank you, I feel like I stick out.”

“You always stick out ‘cause you’re so pretty.”

“Not what I meant.” I chuckle as he takes the cigarette from my hand, lingering a second longer, his eyes on mine before lifting it up to his mouth and taking a long drag.

“Oh, I know exactly what you meant and I still think it’s a good thing. Don’t know how I didn’t see you sooner with this little get-up.”

I look him up and down, looking at the suit he’s wearing. “Since when did you wear suits?” I take another hit.

“Since I got a reputation.”

“I like you better with your cowboy attire.” I show a slightly dopey smile, maybe slightly influenced by the drinks I had earlier…

“Me too, darlin’, me too.” He laughs, taking a sip of a glass of whiskey he brought out with him. “I’ll wear the cowboy hat for you next time. Maybe we could have a party for two, dinner maybe.”

“Are you asking me out for dinner?”

“I’m asking you in for dinner. I make a mean spaghetti bolognese.” He wears a small grin on his face. “So what do you say?”

“That sounds nice. I like pasta. And you, of course.” I say, turning to properly face him, blowing a ring of smoke towards him with a smile

“Well, that’s good because I like you quite a bit.” He leans forward slightly, matching my smile, and moving forward slightly.

“Cooper, (y/n)! I hope I’m not interrupting.” Sebastian walks over, sitting down on the bench opposite the both of us.

“‘Course not.” I say, quickly pulling away with a slightly flustered look.

“You were interrupting actually, Sebastian. I was just about to kiss this pretty lady.” Both the men laugh while I sit there looking mildly embarrassed.

“Well then, I’ll be on my way. Hopefully I’ll see you later on, if you two don’t get too carried away that is.” He jokes, laughing.

“So embarrassing.” I mumble, head in hands once Sebastian leaves.

“I was just being honest, sweetheart. Now, where were we?” I look back up at him.

He pushes his lips against mine gently as I reciprocate, matching the delicate nature - almost as if he thinks I'll break. After a few seconds I pull away and can't help but chuckle as I look at his face.

“What? What is it?” He asks with a small grin.

“Nothing.” I decide not to tell him about the lipstick smudged on his lips. “Sorry.” I chuckle.

“C’mere, you.” He says, arm around my waist to pull me closer to him, a smirk on his face before he presses his lips against mine again.

I wrap my arms around his neck, resting them as we pull each other closer. I pull back to press a few kisses to his jaw, relishing the little lipstick kisses that are left behind.

“You're a little minx, you are.” He mumbles, I smile softly against his skin, continuing before making my way back to his lips.

I feel one of his hands travel up my thigh, his rough hands against the smooth skin exposed by the slit in my dress. He caresses the skin gently, rubbing little circles.

I play with his hair, my arms still resting over his shoulders gives me access to the back of his head also allowing me to pull him closer.

I feel his fingers reach under the slit of my dress and I pull back to reach for the hand with a conflicted smile.

“Cooper.” I say almost like a warning. “We're at your party and in your garden.”

“I don't mind.” He shrugs with a dopey smile.

“I mind.” I say, “Besides, people will be looking for you.” I stand up, holding his hand and leading him to stand as well. “C’mon.”

“Fine.” He huffs, worried he's missing out as he walks back into his house.

I lean over until my mouth is just by his ear.

“Y'know, if you wanted I could stay back a little later?” I whisper but it’s barely a question as I already know the answer, pulling back with a teasing smile before walking away again, leaving him with the lipstick marks as I find a bathroom to reapply my lipstick with a knowing smile.

Re-joining the party, I try to socialise with some other people but I make sure to keep an eye on Cooper talking to people trying to hide their hushed chuckles. Finally, I watch someone break the news to him as he walks over to one of the mirrors in his house, turning his face to examine the damage before he looks over at him. I send a small smile, feigning innocence as he shakes his head.

“Little minx.” He mumbles with a small grin.

-

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading!

I'm actually in love with Cooper, I swear (Ghoul form and not)

If you want a part two to this fic then let me know (I don't write smut though)!

[indibutterfly]

Showtime One-Shot

(For @jetkielover, hopefully I did this like how you wanted...thanks for the idea really appreciate it!)

She gasped for air. Her chest was feeling tight. Her vision blurred. Despite barely being human, it seemed as though panic attacks were still as prevalent in the Circus as they were in the real world. Pomni took hold of herself. She fell into a corner of her room. It was the only place in her room where the word EXIT wasn’t written. She curled further and further into a ball. Why was she forbidden to remember things? Why isn’t she allowed to explore past the void? Was abstracting really that bad? What if Caine was lying to the members of the circus this whole time? What if that was the only to get out of there? What if…...

Almost as if he heard his name being called, Caine appeared within Pomni’s room.

“Greetings Pomni! How are you this fine day?” Silence was all he received. He shook his head as he continued to float closer to her.

“So um, I don’t want to put a damper on whatever it is you are up to. However, I have been receiving complaints from other members of the circus that you’re being a bit…...overdramatic. Do you think that you would be able to perhaps halt the theatrics and simply enjoy the circus for a little while?” Pomni stopped shaking. She looked up at the ringmaster, floating not too far from her. Theatrics?! Worrying about whether or not one would ever see their family again is considered being overdramatic?! She started chuckling, almost as if she had lost her mind.

“Oh, I am so sorry that my THEATRICS are getting in your way! It’s almost as if I forgot WHERE EXACTLY I AM! STUCK IN THIS CRAP HOLE OF A CIRCUS LED BY A NARCISITIC RINGMASTER WHO DOESN’T GIVE A RAT’S BUTT WHAT HAPPENS TO THE PEOPLE HERE!” Caine was shocked, and slightly annoyed at the tone Pomni now had towards him.

“Now wait just a minute missy! I do very much care about each one of my superstars! I want to ensure that you are all taken care of! That is a priority I have set to help with your stay here. Now, I understand that you arriving here wasn’t exactly easy-”

“EASY?! I WAS CHASED AROUND BY A GIANT CREATURE WHO CLEARLY DIDN’T HAVE THE BEST PLANS FOR ME!” Caine floated a little back from Pomni, as she arose and began to walk towards him.

“While that might have hindered you enjoying yourself here by just a smidge, there is still plenty for you to do during your stay!” Caine said, whilst trying to keep his cheery demeanor.

“YOU ACT AS IF THIS PLACE IS A FREAKING HOTEL! I CAN’T LEAVE CAINE! THAT’S ALL I WANT! THERE ISN’T ANYTHING THAT’S REAL HERE! I WANT SOMETHING THAT’S REAL! HONESTLY AT THIS POINT THE BETTER OPTION SEEMS TO BE ABSTRA-” She wasn’t allowed to finish.

“PLEASE DON’T SAY THAT!” Caine tackled her with a giant hug squeezing her as tight as he possibly could. Pomni just sat there in shock over what was happening.

“P-Please…don’t say that. I am sorry I can’t make this place more real for you, but know that I am trying my very hardest, to give you every sensation of reality I can. If there is anything I can add Pomni please tell me! Tell me how I can make this more realistic for you!” Pomni’s eyes began to water. She slowly returned the hug.

“Staying with me like this for a little while would be a good start…” Pomni whispered in a low and soft tone. Caine gave a gentle smile as he continued the hug. There was something special about this girl that for a while he wouldn’t understand. All he knew was that his digital heart would shatter into a million pieces if she abstracted. The truth was there was no complaints, Caine simply wanted an excuse to see how Pomni’s mental health was holding up. It turns out that he was right to check up on her. She needed someone there for her, and Caine was more than happy to fulfill the role. Why? He wasn’t sure, but right now that didn’t matter. All that mattered was calming down Pomni, a job he was able to accomplish today.

Fin~

[I am still open to doing Ship one-shots, just submit an ask or comment and I will do it. So long as you follow the previous guidelines ofc.]

[ravenwitch45]

yay yay-! i shall send one right now, and I do t mind waiting either… so feel free to decline this request if it’s to hard but may I request(platonically) Stolas with a Male! or GN! Teen! reader who has a Rui Kamishiro Personality from Project Sekai? Like stolas basically adopted the reader and they are like really good at inventing things and the reader even made a robot for his friend for their social anxiey and many people around them see them as a “werido” when their really not? hope that’s not to confusing… thank you again!

also I hope this sends 😭😭

Ah okay, This is my first platonic x reader request if I recall correctly but I'm good trying it and all. Only one slight hiccup... This is the first time I've even heard of Rui or Project Sekai at all. So I looked up some clips of Rui to try to gauge his personallity so I'd get it a bit better for this, sorry if I'm still off but here goes nothing! XP

Stolas with a Teen Reader with a Rui Kamishiro personalilty who's really good at inventing (Platonic)

Stolas doesn't exactly fit into the norm himself, so despite sometimes having a hard time understanding your eccentricities he loves you like his own child.

He's very fascinated by your inventing, he hardly understands it at all but he'll praise your work often.

The first time you tag along with him to a formal party you can tell he's miserable, so you offer to spice it up with some of your gadgets, while he thinks it might cause too much trouble he lets you, and whoo does he not regret it, you both have a good laugh and get off scot free, and he has half a mind to bring you next time.

When you made the robot, he was awestruck in all truth, not only that you managed such a feat but that you went to so much effort for him, he's seen robots before of course but that you made one from scratch just for him warms his heart.

He enjoys it very much, it being nice to have someone to ramble to about random stuff, not caring about their mechanical nature, it's another friend after all.

As for everyone else around you too, it's a varied experience to say the least XP

Octavia likes you quite a lot though, since essentially she's your adoptive sister, you have a lot in common. Out of the box interests, being lowkey smothered by affection by Stolas as well XP She also finds your... 'colorful' fashion sense very cool, she isn't the biggest fan of wearing it, but you've gotten her in some outfits, in exchange for trying out some darker looks yourself.

Your interests don't really compliment eachother that much, inventing and taxidermy but you both support eachother in them, and Stolas thinks it's so sweet how well you get along.

Blitz though? Oh he immediately loves your chaotic nature, kinda recruiting you for help with gifts and stuff, he thinks you could be a great weapon smith, but your happy with just wholesome inventions, which he likes a lot too, low key will borrow some gadgets to mess with people, Stolas also loving how well you get along with him.

And anyone who dares makes insults to you, or bout your eccentricites, well we all know what happened to agents don't we ;)

Stolas despite his unwavering support and love, finds himself panicking when you try something a bit risky looking, you have it all planned out to perfection of course but he can't help but freak out a bit.

Overall you love eachother very much, happy with not fitting in together and loving all parts of eachother, interests and quirks and all, plus everyone else you bond with after he takes you in, a very wholesome time.

[endlesslystarlitskies]

Lost and Found- Part 10

A/N: Here is part 10! I am going to put a tiny pause on posting for now so my friend can beta read the rest of this story. Hope that’s okay with you guys! But it’s all written out so don’t worry, I’ll get back to posting ASAP! Hope you guys like it! 

Genre: Horror, Action, Adventure, Romance, Slow-Burn,  

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Named Reader (Named but not Described)

Summary: Ella was one of the missing hikers who was kidnapped by the villagers. She narrowly escaped being sacrificed, but her friends weren’t so lucky. Managing to survive out in the woods with her previous skills and knowledge, she runs into Leon, and that meeting begins the longest, most dangerous adventure of her life as she tries to help him save the girl she saw being taken into the church. What will happen along the way? Only one way to find out.  

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, Death, Murder, Monsters, Suicidal ideations mentioned. Also, there is a line in here where Ella says Leon would have made a good cop. Yes, this is a warning. This writing is fictional and does not reflect at all on the real world. That line is not intended to be copaganda in any way, shape, or form. Again, this is fictional and has no bearing on reality. If this warning upsets you, just call A Cab, and take chill ride, cuz I don’t want to hear it. 

Word Count: 6,673

Part 9 Part 11  Story Masterlist

xXx

Ella’s heart dropped as none other than The Priest walked into the small room, letting out a curse as she pulled out her shotgun. She should have known that he would take this chance to show himself, probably thinking she was vulnerable without Leon. Ella was determined to prove him wrong.

“W-Who are you?” Ashley asked as she hid behind Ella, not recognizing the man but having a feeling he would be harder to take down than most of the cultists they faced. 

“I am the Priest Castro, and I am here for my investment.” He answered in that sinister scratchy voice that sent a chill down Ella’s spine.

“Your investment?” Ashley didn’t understand- that was until she realized the man’s red eyes were on Ella. It was then she knew that this man had been the person Ella and Leon had been talking about when they were at the fountain. 

“What the hell do you want? You can’t catch me by surprise anymore asshole, so why don’t you get out of here before I put three rounds into your chest?” Ella threatened. This room wasn’t very large, and the outside risked putting her too far away from Ashley. Ella was sure this guy would love to tell everyone where Ashley was, even if he was here for her.

“Why so volatile? I just want to make sure you become the best version of yourself you can possibly be.” Ella’s brows furrowed. Had the plan to kill her changed? 

“Oh, so we’re back to that again? You really had me thinking you were trying to kill me, what with my being targeted and all.” She growled, and she would honestly rather him do that then try to infect her with the parasite again.

“Ah, yes. Ramon does not agree with my. . .plan. But despite that, here you are, still alive and fighting.” His tone was full of pride, and Ella hated it.

“You’ve got five seconds to leave before I shoot you.” Ella demanded, but before she could take another breath, something whipped forward, slapping the shotgun out of her hand. 

“What the fuck?” She hissed, whatever it was having been too fast for her to see, but she knew it had come from him as his robe fluttered back into place.

Not wasting another second, Ella pulled out her handgun, before firing shot after shot into his head and chest until he was leaning forward, his arms hanging down. 

“Why do you fight me child? Why do you fight your creator?” His words pissed Ella off. 

“You are not my creator. You’re just some cult freak who doesn’t know the difference between right and wrong.” She snapped, raising her gun once more and preparing to empty the clip into his head. She stopped, however, when he began shaking violently, her eyes widening.

“Ashley, run.” She told her, knowing this was about to get bad.

“Wha-”

“Run!” She shouted, and Ashley didn’t try to argue this time as she scrambled to the side door, Ella following right behind her.

She had realized too late that she had left her shotgun in the room, but there was nothing she could do about it now as the doors slammed open behind them, and Ella watched with wide eyes as something crawled out onto the stone top.

“Fuck- Okay. Okay, think. . .” Ella told herself, but she had no idea what she was going up against, not getting a good look at Castro. Whatever he was, he was fast, which would be a problem on its own with just her handgun and knife.

Before she could come up with a game plan, something swung down at them from the roof, and Ella grabbed Ashley before jumping out of the way. Ashley grunted as she hit the ground, but Ella was already sitting up, watching as what had come down at them slinked back up the roof. Was that a tail? No, It looked like the fleshy pink stinger of a scorpion.

A scorpion. Poison.

“God, of course.” She cursed, before turning to Ashley. “Run back into the room. I’ll keep him out here. It’s me he wants.” She ordered her, needing to not worry about Ashley right now.

“Right!” Ashley nodded once, before doing as she was told, Ella focusing on the roof as she tried to catch a glimpse of Castro. She prayed this wouldn’t draw any more attention, because she didn’t know if she could handle him and protect Ashley at the same time. She wasn’t Leon. Ella moved down the stone steps of the castle, getting a better view as she looked up, and it was then she saw him. She had been right. He looked like a scorpion. A disgusting, slimy, fleshy pink scorpion with the top half of a man. He wasn’t as big as the chief had been, but he was still terrifying.

“Let me show you what real greatness can be. Maybe then you will not fight your purpose!” There was an echo behind his voice that added to the eeriness.

“Yeah, good luck with that buddy, because what I’m looking at definitely isn’t greatness.” She shot back, and Castro scowled, before practically disappearing in the next second. Ella barely caught sight of him coming towards her, dodging under him as he crashed into the small stone tower behind her, and Ella took her chance to fire several rounds into his head and back. She only had a few moments to get as many shots in as she could, because soon he was gathering himself, turning and looking at her with fury in his eyes.

Ella ran back up the steps, grabbing ahold of one of the stone columns and using it to spin herself around, just barely dodging another charge. Landing in a kneeling position, she aimed another few shots at his head, getting a feel for the game plan. Dodge his charges and then fire as many shots as she could while he was disoriented. She could handle that.

She was able to do that one more time, before he let out a loud roar of rage, and soon Ella was trying to dodge his stinger as it shot towards her multiple times. It nicked her in the arm, and she fell backwards, her back slamming into the stone stairs as she grunted in pain, the handgun falling from her hands. Before she could blink, Castro was on top of her, Ella surrounded by his many legs as his face inched closer and closer to her.

“Now, prepare to submit yourself to the gift of our God! Become my greatest creation and help me please my Lord and gain his favor!” Ella tried to think of something, anything, she could do in this moment, but she was caged in, and all she had was her knife. She was about to reach for it, it being better than nothing, when the door slammed open.

“Ella!” Ashley shouted, holding her shotgun in hand and tossing it over to her.

It clattered against the stone next to her, sliding down the stairs, and Ella didn’t waste a second as she grabbed it, aiming it at Castro’s drooling face.

“When are you going to learn that you’ll never get me, asshole?” Castro’s red eyes widened as he began to back away. Ella fired her shot, managing to get him straight in the chest, and he screamed in agonizing pain as he fell on his back, writhing and sizzling as his fleshy body slowly dissolved, leaving only his top half.

Ella got to her feet, grabbing her hand gun before stepping toward him as she could still hear his ragged breathing. She looked down at his pathetic body, her expression hard and uncaring.

“Y-You don’t understand your. . .full potential, child. If you would only accept his gift when the-” He croaked, but Ella cut him off.

“No, you don’t understand. I got away from you once, and then again, and now I’ve beat you, for good. I will never let Saddler control me, or accept your stupid religion.” She knew he would never get that through his thick skull, but it felt good to say it out loud. Maybe she was just a civilian with limited skills, but she was still alive despite everything that had been thrown at her. 

“You’re not. . .as clever. . .as you-” He rasped, but Ella didn’t want to hear it anymore.

“Shut up, and die with some fucking dignity.” She spat, raising her handgun and aiming at his head before firing the shot, watching as dark blood and pink bits splattered across the stone. She couldn’t even feel disgusted, only feeling an immense satisfaction flow through her as her eyes took in the dead man who killed her friends- who killed Alice.

She hadn’t been looking for revenge anymore, but she got it, and it felt good. She didn’t feel like she was a worse person for it, but maybe that was because it was done out of survival and not vengeance. She didn’t know. 

 All she knew was that she felt better.

 xXx

She slowly made her way back into the room where Ashley was waiting for her, stretching her aching back out as she did. Why did her back have to suffer so much abuse? You’d think the bad guys could be a little more considerate. Ashley was watching her closely as the door shut behind her, and Ella looked up at her, giving her a small smile.

“Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.” She told her honestly, and Ashley smiled softly, nodding.

Ella moved to put some yellow and red herb leaves on the cut on her arm, just in case. It didn’t burn, but it was better to be safe than sorry. As she was finishing that up, a golden glint caught her eye, and her head snapped to the floor where Castro’s robes lay, the necklace with the red gem lying there.

She moved quickly, Ashley calling her name in confusion as she watched Ella grab the necklace and kick the robes to the side, before walking outside once again, Ashley following.

“What are you-” Her question was answered when Ella slammed the red gem into the stone over and over again, cracking it and making the glow fade, before Ella threw it out into the open air, watching as it disappeared below the rocks.

Ella moved back inside without a word, letting out a deep breath as she sat on the couch. Ashley was cautious in her approach as she sat down beside the woman, and Ella could see in her expression that she had questions.

“He was the man who kidnapped my friends and I. I watched him as he gave the order to sacrifice Alice.” She revealed in a low voice, Ashley leaning against her gently to offer comfort, which Ella appreciated. “He orchestrated it all, and while everyone was distracted, I ran into the woods.” She remembered the memory vividly, looking at the wall in front of them, her eyes unfocused. “He always wore that stupid necklace. Every single time I saw him, he was wearing it. So breaking it and watching it disappear felt like getting rid of the last piece of him.” She admitted, before waiting for Ashley to say something. 

She didn’t, just wrapping her arms around Ella in a hug and resting her head against her shoulder once more. Ella was tense for a moment, not expecting it, before she relaxed, repeating her action from earlier and leaning her head against Ashley’s. Ella felt all her anger and adrenaline leave her, being replaced with a muted calm.

She had never imagined she would be able to kill Castro, let alone on her own, but she had. She hadn’t let fear stop her this time, and now the person who had killed Alice was gone from the world, Alice receiving the only justice that was possible in this situation. 

Ella was one step closer to making sure Alice’s death hadn’t been in vain, and that was all Ella could ask for. The wounds were still very fresh, but now she felt like she could truly move on and heal.  

xXx

The next time the back door opened, it was Leon, and he walked in to see Ella and Ashley leaning against each other on the couch. However, both had shot up at his entry, and Ashley wore her relief in her expression, while Ella kept her expression as neutral as possible, not wanting to show how relieved she was to see him.

“Leon-” Ashley breathed, but he beat her to it. 

“Are you okay?” He asked first and foremost, and Ashley nodded, an apologetic look taking over her features.

“Leon, I-” She caught sight of the black veins running up the inside of his arm. She had known he was infected, thanks to Ella, but now she was seeing the proof, it being the final confirmation she needed.

Leon had realized she had seen the veins on his arm, but when she didn’t seem shocked, he glanced at Ella, who nodded to confirm his thoughts. Looking back to Ashley, he sighed.

“Ashley, look. I know you’re scared, and that’s okay, but you can’t run.” He started, but his voice was gentler than it had ever been with Ashley, and Ella was proud of him for actually finding a way to be comforting.

“Yeah, I know.” Ashley responded in a sheepish voice, but she didn’t stop Leon, knowing she deserved to hear it from him too.

“You gotta keep moving forward. We will beat this.” He was being inspirational, and to Ella’s surprise, it was working, Ashley looking up at him, though she looked unconvinced. “Together.” Leon added, and Ella smiled softly.

Ashley sighed with a shake of her head. “I don’t know if I can.” She admitted, her tone defeated. Ella knew how she felt, as she was constantly questioning whether she had what it took to make it through this, but she never let it stop her, reminding herself that it didn’t matter. It didn’t change the fact that all she could do was try. 

“You can.” Leon was quick with his response, his voice strong and sure to show Ashley that he meant his words. Ella believed them too. Ashley had proven she was capable already. All she had to do was believe in herself. “Just- Give me a heads up before you stab me next time, okay?” He joked, showing her he held no resentment or ill will towards her for what happened, and Ashley let out a breath as she looked to the floor, smiling lightly.

“Leon,” She looked up at him, pausing. “Thanks.” She murmured, the blonde nodding once. Ella felt like Ashley had had more to say, but she didn’t mention it, as that wasn’t her business. Leon looked to Ella next, opening his mouth to say something, before his comms going off caught his attention. When he answered it, Ella moved forward to listen in, hearing Luis on the other end.

“Luis! Where are you?” Leon demanded, his irritation with the man seemingly permanent. Ella once again found herself wondering what had happened in the factory, if it was even all there was to Leon’s obvious distrust in Luis. She had a feeling that it wasn’t. 

“Sorry, I uh, I screwed up. Come to my rescue, Prince Charming.” The last part of his sentence had been spoken in an exaggeratedly dramatic tone, and Leon scowled.

“I’ll show you Charming, Pal.” Ella doubted that. Any time Leon could even be considered remotely charming was all unintentional on his part. She was almost sure him trying would be comically bad. 

“Come on, I’m in the ballroom. Past the courtyard. Don’t be late to the dance!” And with that, he hung up, and Ella had to hold back a light laugh. Luis on the other hand could be very charming, and it made him likable and fun to be around. Leon could use a lesson or two. 

“Can’t believe that guy.” Leon muttered, and Ella almost wanted to ask him right then and there what his problem was with Luis, but she decided against it, deciding she didn’t want to know at the moment.

“He’s in trouble. We can’t just leave him, right?” Ella had to hold back her scoff, finding the question adorable. They could absolutely leave him, but they wouldn’t. He had the medicine they needed, after all. It wasn’t only that, of course. Unlike Leon, Ella wanted to save him, and make sure he escaped this place with them. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to him.” Ella assured her, and that’s when Leon’s focus was back on her. HIs blue eyes took her in, before his frown deepened.

“Is that a new tear in your shirt?” Ella was shocked, not knowing how he had even noticed that. She had known he was observant, but she clearly underestimated how much so. Ashley and Ella shared a look, before Ella looked back at him.

“Yeah, about that. . .Well, I guess I should just show you.” She sighed, gesturing to the door they needed to go out of. Walking outside, Leon took in the rubble on the ground, as well as the cracks in the support beams, quickly gathering there had been a fight.

Ella stopped beside the disgusting corpse of Castro, gesturing to him.

“Ta da!” She tried to keep the atmosphere light with her dramatics, but when Leon walked up, his brows furrowed at the dead body.

“Is that-”

“Yup.”

“Did you-”

“Also yup.” Ella knew she couldn’t take all the credit. “And Ashley helped.” That had Leon’s head shooting up. “Relax, she wasn’t in danger. She just tossed me my lost shotgun so I could land the final shot.” He seemed to calm at that, before processing the information.

“Good job.” He told her, his voice sincere as he gave her a half smile, Ella able to see the pride behind his eyes. Unlike with Castro, Leon being proud of her made her feel better, her smile widening just a bit. That, and she felt her own sense of pride. She had protected Ashley, and defeated Castro, avoiding his crazy plans for her, and keeping from adding onto the problem that is parasites right now. She felt accomplished, which was hard to be in this situation. 

 xXx

Getting through the next part of their journey in the castle hadn’t been too terribly difficult, though the maze did confuse them a few times. More Cult members had come in after they got the last flag down, and apparently Ramon hadn’t gotten the memo of Castro’s death, because some of them were still gunning for her.

Taking them down and finishing off the remaining dogs from hell hadn’t taken too long, though, and soon they made their way to the now open gate and into the next part of the castle.

Ella had never been so happy to see the Purple flame before, as she had run out of shotgun ammo a while ago. Opening the door, she didn’t even question how he got here, just making her way over to his table.

“I am so glad to see you.” She admitted to him, and The Merchant laughed.

“Ah yes, I’ve heard you had an eventful couple of hours.” He told her gleefully, and Ella blanked.

“Where?! Where have you heard that?!” She couldn’t help it, not understanding how this man worked, but she was just given another full belly laugh and vague not-an-answer, and she let it go as she stocked up. She decided to try her luck with some small grenades and a flash bang, having seen Leon use them a couple of times and thinking they could come in handy. 

“Also got something else for ya.” He held up a black vest, Ella brightening as she realized it was body armor.

“Oh my god, yes, thank you.” She paid him the money, before taking off her flannel and putting it on. It fit perfectly, and Ella could only once again wonder how in the hell The Merchant knew all of this stuff, but she didn’t bother this time.

Hopefully this will help her stop adding to her collection of bandages.

xXx

Their small reprieve from the horrors of the castle was over rather quickly, much to Ella’s disappointment, and soon they were heading back out, only to be greeted with another statue that was missing pieces. Ella guessed they would have to find them in order to advance forward in the castle if there was no other way through, which there never was. She could dream though.

“God, these people really like their locking mechanisms and puzzles don’t they?” She grumbled, not understanding how they had the time to set all of these up. 

Ashley found the portrait that told them exactly what they needed, and soon they were going through the unlocked doors, keeping their eyes out for a serpent's head, a lion's head, and a ram’s head. 

The serpent's head ended up being locked behind a cage that required them to match the portraits at the front of the dining room they had found themselves in, which was relatively easy to figure out fortunately. To keep from having to lug the thing around, they placed it on the appropriate spot on the chimera statue, matching it to the picture. 

The other two would be just as easy, or at least that was Ella’s hope.

xXx

Ella, Leon, and Ashley all stared down the bridge that led to the ram’s head, not one of them taking a step forward as they looked on suspiciously. 

“So. . .” Ella broke the silence. “We all know this is a trap, right?” She asked the other two to make sure they were thinking along the same lines as her. 

“Yup.” Ashley responded. 

“And we’re still going to go get that stupid gold head?” She knew the answer but she really wished she didn’t. 

“Yeah.” Leon answered this time, and Ella pressed her lips together. 

“Are we sure it’s not too late to just-” 

“We’re sure.” Leon cut her off, and she sighed. She didn’t know why she bothered. 

“Well, at least this pathway has some sort of railing.” They didn’t have to worry about anyone falling off the side again. 

“Way to look on the brightside.” Ashley chuckled, and Ella gave her a nod and a look that said ‘anytime”, before the three reluctantly started forward.

xXx

It hadn’t even taken a minute for a cult member in one of those stupid metal skull helmets to come out and pull a lever, lowering the bridge and making it impossible to get to the ram’s head, and now they were fighting off members in a not so big room.

To make matters worse, one of the men was wearing that red robe with a skull ahead, which spelled trouble for the three of them. That was confirmed when he began chanting and waving around the lantern staff with the crimson flame, and both Ashley and Leon grit their teeth in pain as they grabbed their heads, Ashley letting out a cry. 

Leon tried to fight it off and focus on the members around them, but it was clear he was disoriented and unsteady, Ella having to cover his back as a member tried to hit him with a Flail, before she looked up at the red robed cultist. She tried to get a good angle on him from down below, but he would duck out of the way and hide behind a linoleum column, making it impossible to get a shot, and Ella cursed. Fortunately, though, when he did that, he stopped chanting, giving Ashley and Leon a break. 

Ella knew she had to move quickly to keep him from doing that again, and she looked for an opening past the cultists, deciding she would just have to run through. The cultists were still targeting her when they could,making it a risky idea, but she didn’t have much of a choice considering. 

She used her shotgun, before running forward, having to push cultists and wooden shields out of her path as she found a ladder up to the floor where the man with the red robe was. He started chanting once more, and Ella picked up her pace, climbing to the top and immediately dodging a sickle before she kicked the cultists leg out from under him. Ashley’s scream stopped her in her tracks, however, and she ran over to the railing to see one of the robed men throwing her over his shoulder. Leon was fighting off someone who had run at him while also trying to fight the effects of the red robed man, and Ella cursed. Aiming carefully, she shot the man holding Ashley in the leg, making him drop the blonde, who curled in on herself as she grabbed her head. Then, she aimed at the one on Leon, knocking him off with a head shot.

Ella had to move quickly, and she dodged another attack before finally making it to the red robed cultist. Shooting him in the back, she finally got him to stop spouting that stupid chant as he lurched forward, and she fired again, killing him. With that, she ran to the railing, looking down to check on the two below. 

Fortunately, Leon seemed relatively unscathed, and Ashley had gotten to a safer place, Ella letting out a sigh of relief. She’d have to watch out for those men from now on, their ability to affect the parasites within Ashley and Leon dangerous. 

With Leon back in the fight, they dealt with the rest of the cultists, Ella staying on the top platform and taking care of business from there. Eventually, the last man fell, and the three could take a minute to breathe. 

“What was that?” Ashley panted, referring to the effects of the man in the red robe. 

“I don’t know, but we’ll have to keep an eye on them from now on.” Leon echoed her thoughts, before looking up at Ella in thanks. She smiled, leaning against the railing. 

“Aren’t you glad to have me around?” She grinned, and Leon's expression fell into one of mock annoyance. “Oh come on, would it kill you to just admit you’re happy to have me here to help?” 

“I’ll admit it!” Ashley said happily. 

“Thank you, Ashley.” Ella then turned to Leon expectantly, and the blonde raised his brows at her. He hadn’t been afraid to tell her he appreciated having her around after he had saved her from being sacrificed, so she didn’t understand why he was being so stubborn now. She wondered if it was because of Ashley, and Leon was just too cool to admit that her help was useful in front of the girl. 

Men.

“Will you just raise the bridge and get down here already?” Ella glared for a moment, before a mischievous glint entered her eyes, an idea popping into her head. 

“As you wish.” She responded, and Leon could tell she had something up her sleeve, giving her a suspicious look. 

Ella pulled the lever, before she climbed to the top of the railing, and Leon’s eyes widened slightly. The drop was pretty high, not to mention Ella’s injured legs and her tendency to stumble over her own feet. 

“Ella-” He tried to stop her, but she just winked, before jumping, and he moved quickly. Fortunately, he hadn’t been too far away, catching her in his arms, before looking at her incredulously. Ella was grinning at him, her arms wrapped around his neck. 

“What? Isn’t this what you wanted?” She had known he was going to catch her, not worried about it in the slightest; However, looking at his expression, past the usual light frown, she could see something in his eyes as he looked at her that made her breath catch for just a moment, Ella suddenly becoming aware of how close her face was to his. She couldn’t help but take in his features, never having looked so closely before. Had he always been this good looking? Who was she kidding, she had noticed that pretty early on, but it was like this was the first time she was really seeing it, or allowing herself to see it, and her heart fluttered in her chest. How could she help herself? She could feel his strong arms under her legs and back, and even his toned chest against her side despite the body armor he wore. He was warm and comforting, and after everything they had been through, she knew there was a pretty great, albeit a little rough around the edges, personality to match. As much as she had tried to ignore it, she found it impossible to not feel something more for him. 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” His voice was lower than it had been before, and Ella briefly wondered if he was having a similar moment to her, though she knew that was unlikely. Still, she couldn’t help but hope for a second that it was true. 

“Yeah, but I like to think it adds to my charm.” She gave a breathy chuckle, and she felt his chest exhale in a sigh, though he didn’t say anything else. 

xXx

Ella and Ashley walked ahead, giggling and mumbling to each other. Leon almost wished he could hear what they were saying, but at the same time, he had a feeling he didn’t want to know.

Getting back to the main room, they put the ram head in its rightful place, leaving only one piece left. 

Ella stupidly found herself pulling a Leon, and wondering just how hard obtaining the last golden head could be. 

xXx

“Oh, you can’t be serious right now. . .” Ella groaned as the armor around them suddenly sprang to life, parasites peeking out from the openings. She knew this place had reminded her of an arena, but she could have never imagined that the stupid bodies of armor would come alive. The good news, at least, was that Ashley had thrown down a torch of blue flame to try and help, discovering that the light made them freeze. Ella could work with that. 

Moving to the wall, she grabbed one of the many torches, before running to Leon’s side, holding out the light and making the ones that got too close freeze in their tracks. After that, taking care of them was relatively easy, and Ella had been sure to thank Ashley for her quick thinking as they got the gate opened and moved back to the main room. 

“Alright, last piece, thank god.” Ella sighed as she lifted the heavy golden lion head onto the middle slot of the chimera statue, feeling it click into place just before the door to the right slid open, granting them a pathway forward. However, the sound of footsteps echoed through the main room a moment later. 

“You guys, the stairs!” Ashley shouted, and Ella turned, watching as they flooded into not only the bottom floor, but the top as well, and both Ella and Leon drew their weapons. 

“Stay back.” Leon ordered, and Ashley took a few steps away from the statue. This ended up being a mistake, one of the cult members pushing a lever and bringing a cage around both Ella and Leon, separating them from her. And this time, there was nothing to climb over to get to her. 

“Ashley!” Ella gasped, moving to the gate as if she could somehow get to her. They were trapped inside the cage, however, there being a locked door they didn’t have the key to on the opposite side. 

“Muerte!” One of the cultists shouted, and Leon turned. 

“Run, now!” He shouted, and Ashley hesitated only a moment, giving them a look of concern mixed with fear, before she did as she was told and ran through the door they had just opened. Cultists moved to follow, and Ella did her best to shoot them down as Leon focused on the ones attacking them from the outside. Eventually Ashley was out of her sight, and Ella had to will herself to calm down as she tried not to panic, telling herself Ashley would be fine. She was capable. She’d be okay. Ella turned her attention to the robed men still attacking them, though Leon had taken care of most of them, and with Ella’s help, they were finished off. 

Afterwards, though, there was nothing to distract Ella from her worry, and she let out a breath, falling to her ass and resting her back against the metal cage.

“She’s going to be okay.” Leon assured her. He knew Ella had a very personal reason to get Ashley out of here, and that she had grown close to her over the time they’d traveled together. He was worried too, but they’d have to trust in Ashley from this point. 

“Yeah I know, I just hate feeling so helpless.” Ella murmured, looking to the door of the cage as if she’d be able to think of some magical way to open it, but she knew there was no way they were getting through. She looked up as Leon walked over, the blonde taking a seat beside her and resting back against the cage as well. His shoulder was touching hers, which helped bring Ella a little bit of comfort- Well, as much as she could have with her worry for Ashley gnawing at her.

“Yeah, me too.” He agreed in a low voice, staring ahead at nothing in particular. It was quiet for a bit after that, but with the quiet came anxiety, and Ella looked for something to fill it. She realized this was as good a time as any to maybe learn a little bit more about her traveling companion. 

“Hey Leon,” She started gently, and he looked at her, giving her the room to continue. “Have you ever. . .been through something like this before?” She asked the question that had been in the back of her mind since she first saw how cool and collected he was back in the barn, and then every instance after that. Leon’s lips pulled into a soft frown, and Ella was quick to continue. “Sorry, it’s just. . .the way you handle everything we’ve been through- like the horrifying monsters that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life. I almost froze just from fear many times, what with the chief, or the giant- but you? You acted like. . .Like you’d seen worse.” She murmured, and she really wished that wasn’t the case. 

Leon was quiet as he contemplated her question, his eyes becoming unfocused as he seemed to go to another place. 

Ella had started to believe he wouldn’t answer her, and she didn’t blame him if he didn’t. If she was right, then she couldn’t even imagine the horrible things he had been through. 

“Have you ever heard about Raccoon City?” He spoke up after a while, slightly surprising Ella, but she didn’t show it, focusing on what he had said. 

“Raccoon city? You mean that place that was completely destroyed by some huge explosion?” She had heard about it a bit, as it had been a pretty big deal at the time, but she didn’t know much. Something about a corporation called Umbrella, if she remembered correctly. 

“Yeah. The government did whatever it could to cover up what happened, so not much is known about it, but I was there.” Ella frowned, having had a feeling that was the case but hoping she was wrong. “Umbrella engineered viruses to create Bio-organic weapons so they could sell them to the highest bidders, and the viruses were released one day, turning people and animals into monsters. I was just a rookie cop who had no idea what he was walking into. The only reason I’m even alive is because I was late on my first day.” He scoffed lightly. The emotion in his voice was well contained, but Ella could hear it, which meant that whatever happened in Raccoon city was unimaginable. “Too many people died that day. Good people.” Leon sighed, and Ella felt her heart break for him. If Ella remembered correctly, that incident occurred in 1998, which made him about 20 or 21 at the time, if she was guessing his age right. An image of a young Leon, innocent and eager to find his place in the world, popped into her mind, and her heart twisted in her chest.

She had been talking about how Ashley should be enjoying her life and having fun right now, and here Leon had gone through something similar at around the same age. . .What he had gone through had clearly changed him, changing the course of his life and forcing him to grow up far too soon. 

“I’m so sorry. . . you should have never had to go through something like that. No one should.” She murmured sincerely, as she couldn’t imagine what he had gone through. Or maybe she could. At least somewhat. But she hated that he had to go through something like that at such a young age, and now here he was dealing with something like it again. She didn’t know how he did it. 

Leon bowed his head, his hair falling into his eyes and shielding them from Ella’s sight. Ella was quiet a moment, before she leaned her head onto his shoulder. 

“For what it’s worth, I think you would have made an amazing cop.” She hummed softly, feeling his eyes on her for a few moments, before she felt his usually tense body relax. Ella closed her eyes, then, letting the comfortable silence hang in the air for a bit. 

“What about you?” She hadn’t expected Leon to speak up again, and she raised her head, looking at him in slight confusion. “What did you do before this?” She paused, before having to hold back a sheepish smile.

“You’d never guess.” She told him, and he raised a brow, obviously curious to know. “Okay, but don’t laugh.” She forewarned, before letting out a breath. “I am a baker. I own a small business bakery with Alice.” She admitted, and Leon had clearly not expected that. 

“A bakery?” She could hear the amusement in his voice, but she nodded nonetheless. “But your survival skills and-” Ella’s groan cut him off. 

“You can thank my dad for that. He was a shitty parent, but he taught me how to survive in pretty much any situation, made me learn about guns, and take self-defense classes. He was a paranoid asshole, and I never thought the skills would actually come in handy like this, but I refuse to give him any real credit.” She laughed lightly, the strained relationship with her father obvious in her words. 

“Well, you’re the one who’s putting them to good use, so you don’t have to.” She smiled at that, appreciating that he didn’t try to defend someone he didn’t even know like so many others.  

“You’re damn right, because what good are those skills if you can’t apply them when they’re needed?” She said confidently, feeling a little prouder of herself, before she laughed once more, shaking her head at herself. 

“Are you going to go back?” Ella was surprised Leon was asking her so many personal questions, but pleasantly so. Her interest in his personal life being reciprocated meant that maybe she and Leon were closer to being on the same page than she thought. It was hard to tell with him, though.

“Hm. . .I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about what’s going to happen after all of this. I’ve mainly been focusing on just surviving it, but. . .I don’t think so. I don’t know if I can.” She admitted honestly, and he nodded, clearly understanding how she felt. It was nice to actually learn a little bit more about Leon, and to share some things about herself, Ella feeling closer to him, and not just because they were going through this together anymore. 

Comfortable silence settled over them once more, and this time, neither wanted to break it, Ella once again resting her head on Leon’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind it, after all.

[keef-a-corn]

Dat’s right, People, it’s time for ‘Keef watches TFP and you just get the notes!’

This is for season 1, episode 24: One Shall Rise Part 1

Please reblog or comment on this with your thoughts! I really want to know what your opinion of the episode was!

I write down the timestamps, but I watch Transformers Prime on Stan (an Australian streaming service) so they may be slightly off.

ALSO! I try my best to note points for every character, but tend to get a little caught up by Bee (although I think I do a pretty good job with the notes regardless) so do be warned.

These notes may not be the best as One Shall Rise is a 3 (kinda 4) parter and more than 2 part episodes stress me out.

~~~~Transition~~~~

~recap~

01:01 honestly a good start to an episode of this nature. Like despite having just fought Megatron and being held down, if something so shocking and questionable (as in a very powerful being, from your religion,’s blood is erupting from a planet that had nothing to do with yours, linking your planet and theirs) were to happen, I sincerely doubt anyone would be able to stay in the moment and not get lost in your own thought.

01:07 - Megatron learnt nothing from Optimus? Stab first, then say one-liner. You will find this is true across many media, because as soon as the one-liner is delivered, the opponent is now fully aware of the intention of the one delivering the line. They have enough time to prepare to defend/protect themselves. If they one-liner is delivered after, the opponent will be processing what happened to them. One-liners accompany surprise attacks.

01:12 - See?. Shouldn’t have said the one-liner.

01:16 - Bulkhead’s doing a great job

01:33 - I understand why they chose for Arcee to help Ratchet, but I’m still allowed to question it. Like yeah, Bee’s staying back to accompany Raf (and so he doesn’t try to kill Megatron himself), but it would’ve probably have been quicker and easier if it was Bee who helped Optimus back through, rather than Arcee. Although, I still understand the decision.

01:38 - despite getting punch, Bulkhead’s still holding up very well.

01:42 - what’s actually going on with that position?

01:44 - Megatron pursuing Bulkhead by foot is such a stupid move.

01:53 - Let’s pretend that the ground bridge didn’t close, Megatron can’t cut through it and Bulkhead had already disappeared. What was the plan? He just strike the air and freak ‘em out a bit?

01:57 - gotta appreciate the continuity of Megatron’s face still have the tire marks.

02:13 - I was expecting him to start jumping up and down

~intro~

02:59 - the bridge was already open and then closed.

03:00 - Were they just chilling in the space that makes up the ground bridge tunnel, waiting for it to open again, for so long that Bulkhead and Arcee managed to swap?

03:02 - Ratchet and Bulkhead are so short compared to Optimus that he has to really bend his legs to receive their support.

03:08 - Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. I’ll be more considerate though, because Ratchet was essentially saying that it was too much, as opposed to just one beam of dark energon.

03:12 - I’m gonna actually bite someone. I hate this so much.

03:15 - The way Bulkhead pushed him down and the way Optimus sat *mwah*

03:20 - pure bean

03:23 - I get that she’s being protective and all because Raf got hurt, but must she be so cruel to the injured pure bean? He wasn’t involved with Raf getting hurt, he did the responsible thing and sent him to the medic, wasn’t involved with any of the decisions in the profession he’s not familiar with + he’s not Raf’s guardian. Now, I’m not one to throw Bumblebee under the bus… but if June were to get angry at anyone, she should get angry at Bee. Bee’s Raf’s guardian and Raf was in his care when it happened.

03:25 - I’m gonna kill her.

03:33 - h-what

03:41 - Why does no one talk about this shot?

03:54 - ~Dark~ energon.

04:00 - I don’t think that’s even remotely close to the boogeyman..

04:01 - There’s something so innocent about the bots not understanding human references.

04:03 - how does that lineup with anything that the humans know about Unicron?

04:26 - NO! What did he say??

04:28 - he’s so cute I can’t-

04:34 - Oh.. oh dear.. Oh Ratchet noooo

04:37 - From everything, doubt they’d even care, or believe you.

04:40 - that too.

04:43 - the way he said June- (J o o n)

04:45 - but he didn’t fail anything! She’s just the ass that directed her anger at the wrong bot.

05:06 - it’s weird hearing her say that considering the statement is so relevant for American students now, so much so that it’s pitiful.

05:33 - NOT JUNE SAYING THAT CHILDREN DON’T HAVE THE FREEDOM OF CHOICE ON EARTH.

05:42 - Not a huge Miko fan… but I get it.

05:45 - I don’t recommend doing what Miko did, but I will say that keep that sort of stuff in mind when you need to discuss a decision with someone like a teacher. They aren’t your parent, they cannot make you do something you don’t want to if you believe you’d benefit more by not doing it. They may have a certain level of power over you, but they get a power check anytime you stand your ground on a decision.

06:01 - this is a parallel to.. the first episode? Where Jack was the one insisting that they leave.

06:08 - on the other end of the stick is that as you get older your relationship to someone should become less of a factor into a personal decision/opinion. Just because their your parent, doesn’t mean they always know what’s best for you.

06:14 - Good on June for not pushing it. She accepted that answer.

06:19 - AAAAA NOOOO

06:26 - Bro chose her pride over convenience.

06:32 - THEY DIDN’T SAY GOODBYE

06:42 - Noooooooooooo

06:43 - not the door wings ;0;

06:44 - it makes it sadder that he was standing alone as he watched the only human that could understand him leave.

06:55 - slight error as Arcee went from behind Bee, to standing at his side, but that will be ignored to laugh at the heights differences.

07:13 - oh man, that reporter, I wonder who voiced him.

07:25 - everyone static for so long is glorious

08:07 - she’s pretty good at dodging the lightening

08:13 - then crashes.

08:52 - this scene takes a long time, but it works well to emphasise that they were in a lot of danger.

09:05 - And enjoyable detail is that Bee opens his doors for a second before transforming.

09:24 - situations like these are reasons why it makes sense that Bee is yellow. It’s a vibrant colour, so it’s an emergency colour.

09:44 - Let’s be honest here, Bee should’ve brought someone with him. Bulkhead, maybe?

10:04 - the only other human to have sat in Bee’s driver’s seat is Jack.

10:09 - running a stop sign, damn.

10:33 - bleeeeh

10:46 - if everyone else wasn’t doing anything why was Bee alone?? No one thought that maybe a rescue mission shouldn’t be just one rescuer??

10:56 - Optimus looking to Ratchet, then smiling (more?) is such a cute detail

10:59 - Bee’s heavy landing after transforming.

11:25 - imagine trying to say that and not sound like someone a bit too into astrology

11:52 - just to be clear, Agent Fowler’s correct.

11:55 - hehe

12:02 - following Ratchet saying ‘by the AllSpark’ Bee reacts by looking at him then giving him a surprised look

12:14 - Don’t understand the point of the focus on Arcee walking in.

12:27 - the way Optimus’s optics shook once he realised.

12:32 - Honestly, I agree with Megatron- it really hurts to listen to.

12:52 - the music tho-

12:57 - This is how I wake up every morning.

13:14 - The writers better have a document explaining how volcanoes produced lava if the Earth didn’t have Magma.

13:19 - husbands theorising

13:28 - Melatonin, blankets and make the room a bit cooler.

13:44 - ooh~ Expedition.

14:35 - hoooo

14:40 - The Elmer Fudd approach I see.

14:50 - AHHH THE WAY HIS FACE MOVES, THE EXPRESSIONS, THE E V E R Y T H I N G

15:03 - Arcee enthusiastically joining the brainstorm session. + don’t look at me with those big ol’ eyes.

15:08 - he announces ‘I awaken’

15:10 - Miko’s expressive story telling. H O- Bulkhead’s expressions.

15:14 - Solemn as it is, I cannot get past the fact that the two shortest of the autobots haven’t thought to move.

15:19 - the double blink to look up hurts considering this is a very effective method to prevent tears.

15:33 - who’s gonna tell him?

15:57 - where did Soundwave come from??

16:20 - Bro really trying to impress his dad.

16:25 - change ‘Unicron’ to God or Jesus and you have the why the priest blesses the Eucharist during mass (delivery included).

17:00 - Fatherless behaviour. I swear every villian recites that speech when they finally meet their more evil father.

17:08 - GOTTEM

17:19 - Your time of the month maybe.

17:25 - NOT THE FORCE OF DESTRUCTION CALLING MEGATRON A WORM.

17:45 - Megatron really trying to force a friendship.

17:54 - and here we have the liar.

18:04 - The liar has been called out.

18:13 - Unicron really went back to bed.

18:26 - Optimus scouting gives off big ‘undercover boss’ energy.

18:56 - I laughed so hard at this that my shoulder hurts

19:09 - oh… no one told him shoulder pads are out of style..

19:19 - Get in line. (I have taken it upon myself to draw up what I imagine the ‘Who wants to destroy Optimus Prime’ sign up sheet would look like:

(WHO WANTS TO DESTROY OP:

1. MEGATRON

2. StArsreAm

3. SKYQUAKE (Quake dies ;^;)

3 4. Ratchet❤️ Joking! K.O.❤️

4 5. Ratchet (the real one) (I miss understood) AYO-

4 5 6. Optimus Prime (Bumblebee saw. I cannot do that to him.)

4 5 6 7. MECH

5 6 7 8. Primus :)

6 7 8 9. St3V3

7 8 9 10. Unicron)

19:43 - didn’t realise until now, but this parallels Sick Mind. An Autobot speaking to an enemy in the enemy’s domain- Curiosity is what compels the enemy to listen.

19:49 - doubling parallel, speaking to increase the safety of others.

20:03 - a species?? Prime needs to be introduced to a dog or something. HAH- introduce him to a Bumblebee.

20:15 - Antisocial people:

20:23 - Dude has magician powers.

20:34 - well it took 13 Primes to put him in a coma. Can’t fault Optimus for being weak.

20:38 - They never learn. Phrase AFTER destruction.

20:43 - Translation: not yet, Dame Fragger.

21:20 - top ten lamest Villian one liners.

-To be Continued-

———————

That was One Shall Rise part 1

THAT WAS ONLY ONE FRAGGIN EPISODE?!

It took me weeks to finish!

For all that it is- it's a very good episode.

Still frustrated about last episode and am very much annoyed by June's behaviour. I love Bee with all my heart, but he was the one in charge of Raf at the time-

[lilies-and-forget-me-nots]

DIABOLIK LOVERS : Haunted Dark Bridal — Hunter Prologue

Monologue

The loss of my heart, the capacity to love

The Fall of Man, the forgotten garden

To defy is to be banished

To be strong is to be alone

Then, to be weak is to be loved

A truth I found absurd

I cursed the world, 

and held my head high in spite

Though somehow, I wished to try again

[Someone's Thoughts]

— Location: Entrance Hall

Kayo: ...Alright, hear me out!

Reiji: This is ridiculous.

How can a bride attempt to stab the eldest son the moment she steps into this house?

Kayo: To be fair, I didn’t actually end up stabbing him.

Reiji: The point still stands that you attempted to do so to begin with.

In fact, I'm a little disappointed that you didn't go through with it.

Ayato: Eh, losing Shuu wouldn't be that bad. It's like losing your favorite fly.

Reiji: Favorite is a bit of an overstatement.

Laito: Aah, don't you think we should keep her anyway~? She's pretty easy on the eyes!

Kanato: I agree. Wouldn't breaking someone like her be fun? Fufufu...

Subaru: I don't trust anyone swinging around a knife like a lunatic, much less a hunting weapon.

If you aren't gonna kill her, I will.

Kanato: Aren’t you just talking about yourself?

Kayo: Ahaha... hahaha... let's not be brash everyone!

( I’m fucked. )

( I didn’t quite think this through, did I…? )

— A flashback occurs. Location: Church.

Yui: Huh? Kayo-san, weren’t you supposed to leave with father this morning?

Kayo: Ooh, yeah, about that. Change of plans. 

You’re going to Europe.

Yui: Eeh?

Really…? Father wanted to take me after all?

( How strange, when he left, he seemed sure I wasn’t going to accompany him… )

Kayo: …Yeah, he did. He started crying on the way to the airport and decided he was going to take you along.

Yui: ...??

( No matter how much father loves me, I doubt he’d start sobbing like a child. )

( Is this her way of making a joke? I should laugh… )

Hahaha, very funny, Kayo-san… but are you really serious?

Kayo: I’m serious, though. See, I even got you a ticket.

[rustle]

Yui: ( …! So she wasn’t joking? )

( A lot of this doesn’t seem to make sense, though… but Kayo-san is an earnest person. Why would she lie? )

I see… will father see me at the airport?

Kayo: ( He has no idea she’s coming. )

No, he’s pretty busy, but if memory serves me right, he’d be in the Vatican by the time you arrive. Just go tell him you were going to go to the Sakamaki mansion. He would know what that means.

Yui: The Sakamaki mansion? Those are our relatives, right?

Kayo: ( Am I really gonna explain everything to this kid? No way, I’m not gonna freak her out. )

( Seiji-san will do the talking. Not me. )

Yeah. It’s hard to explain, but I think Seiji-san would be able to explain it to you.

Just trust me, okay?

Yui: …I see. Okay. 

What about you, though, Kayo-san?

Kayo: Oh, you know… the usual. Don’t worry about me.

Have fun, okay?

Yui: Alright…!

Monologue

To be honest, I barely had any time to think this plan through.

I was supposed to go to Europe with Seiji-san in order to complete my rite of passage as a demon hunter, a trial set in order to test apprentice hunters and allow them to work independently from their masters.

Though, I ended up overhearing a few clergymen talk about how Yui was chosen as the next sacrificial bride.

Haphazardly, impulsively, I decided to take her place.

We’ve only ever spent time together once, but she’s a good kid. She deserves better.

It won’t be too bad if I went in her place, anyway. I’m the unwanted child of the church—considered a demon for reasons I can’t understand myself. 

For as long as I remember, I was the child of the devil, trained to kill demons, a twisted sense of irony.

Despite all my training, however, I’ve never been able to kill a demon without any remorse. I always hesitate. I’ve never killed without crying afterwards.

“You’re a coward, you can’t bring yourself to kill your own brethren.” What a ridiculous train of thought. I’m human, after all.

Yet, my own empathy was punished constantly…

— The flashback ends.

Kayo: ( That’s right, I was going to pretend to be the sacrificial bride instead. But when I saw that blond man sleeping on the floor… )

( I thought, wouldn’t it be a better idea to get rid of these guys, so no more girls would be sent here? )

( But in the end, I stopped myself… I’m just a coward, after all. )

( Now I’m surrounded by the vampires I only heard of from stories… )

Reiji: “Let’s not be brash?” 

I believe you’re the last person in this room who should be saying those kinds of things.

Laito: Isn’t that right? Nfufu, let’s see here…

[rustle]

Kayo: …!!

( He suddenly embraced me from behind! )

Laito: What a sexy body… but I’m also quite interested in this knife you have here...

Looking closer, Subaru-kun was right. It even looks just like his!

Kayo: ...?

( I caught a glimpse of his face from the corner of my eye. His tone is playful, but his face is cold, almost calculating... )

Ayato: Wouldn’t that mean… she’s some kinda vampire hunter or something?

Kayo: No. Why would you think that?

Ayato: Really?

Kanato: I… are you really going to believe everything this girl says? She just tried to kill Shuu.

Sometimes I wonder how we’re related.

Hey, Teddy, wouldn’t this girl be really pretty as a doll, though? She’s tall, and her skin is smooth like porcelain…

Even her eyes are utterly lifeless, fufu…

Kayo: …

[rustle]

Kayo: ( Ugh, I can’t move! It’s like this pervert’s arms are made of steel! )

Laito: Eeh? Trying to escape while we’re trapped in a passionate embrace like this?

Kayo: ( I am quite literally trying to run away right now. )

Subaru: Che, leave it to that pervert to abandon all sense of danger at times like this…

Oi, gimme that.

— Subaru takes her knife.

Kayo: Wha—hey! 

Subaru: It looks just like mine… what the hell is this?

Answer me, dammit!

[thud]

Kayo: Hey, I don't know either!

( I just got that knife from Seiji-san when I started training... I heard it was special, but I could only wonder why. )

Ayato: It’s weird though. Haven’t heard about a single new bride recently, but this chick suddenly shows up?

Well, Laito’s right. You're definitely one of the hotter ones.

Say, even if she isn't actually a bride, let's keep her.

— Ayato approaches her.

Ayato: Scream lots for me, okay?

Kayo: No way.

Ayato: Aah? Do you really not understand who's at a disadvantage right now?

Laito: Fufu, it's like a butterfly trying to escape the web, Ayato-kun. I say you let her do as she likes.

The more she tries to wriggle out, the more trapped she becomes...

Kayo: ( I should be angry right now, but... )

( Deep down, I guess he's right. Even if you don't count the fact that I'm outnumbered... )

( Even now, I can't find the courage to do it. )

[rustle]

Reiji: Alright, that’s enough! We are not tolerating this girl’s presence alive or dead.

Why would the church send a vampire hunter here? I would understand if they stripped her of her weapons, however…

I have my reasons to believe you shouldn’t be here.

Kayo: No, no. I’m definitely the one you’re looking for.

I had no idea how that knife got into my pocket. Or how it ended up in my hand. Or why I was about to stab that guy.

Reiji: Are you even trying to make up a convincing lie?

Usually the triplets would take someone like you out, but the fact that you're... a young woman, is distracting them.

Kayo: ( He has a strange look on his face. It's almost predatory. )

Reiji: I'm not going to risk you causing a mess in this mansion.

[rustle]

Kayo: ...!!

— Reiji approaches her, wrapping his hands around her neck.

Kayo: Guh...! St...op!

( Fuck, how are these guys so strong...?! )

( I've dealt with pureblooded demons before, but are vampire princes really this... )

[rustle]

Reiji: Struggling is futile, though that face you’re making… Fufufu, how about you kick around some more?

Or are you too weak to do even that?

Kayo: ( ... ... )

( Why am I struggling...? I'll be put out my misery faster like this. )

( But that kid... if they try to find her, then... )

[rustle]

— Kayo is pulled away.

Reiji: ...?

Kayo: Hah... haa... [cough]

W... What...?

( ...!! The blondie I tried to... )

Shuu: Ah, what a pain...

Ayato: Oh, you're alive?

Shuu: I actually had faith for once that you guys weren't going to do something stupid. Really should take it as a lesson to abandon all hope.

Kayo: ( He's saving me? )

Shuu: If this girl gets killed, I'll get booted to the North Pole again.

Kayo: ( Oh, nevermind. )

Reiji: Don't tell me, she's actually...

Shuu: If she wasn't, she would've been dead the minute she pulled that knife out on me.

Reiji: ...

I would have preferred if you went over this with at least one of us before this happened. Shuu: Too much trouble.

Ayato: ...Che. At least that means you're the real deal, huh?

I kinda wanted our next bride to be some plain girl who goes "Kyaa!" at lightning, though.

Kayo: That's oddly specific...

Shuu: Hah... whatever. The old man said not to kill her. Do whatever, but if she dies on your watch I'm handing you the ticket.

Laito: Oh, so we really are going to have a good time with our little vixen here!

Kayo: ( I actually don't know if I should be relieved that I'm alive or annoyed that I have to keep dealing with these guys. )

Kanato: Hmph. If she's the bride, then we should be able to do anything we want to her...!

Why is she getting special treatment all of a sudden? She doesn't even smell good.

— Kanato approaches and sniffs her.

Kanato: ...In fact, you smell like nothing at all...

Kayo: ( Ugh, he sniffed so close, I shivered a little... )

Laito: Hm, that's what I've been checking out. This girl is practically a phantom in terms of scent...

Kayo: ( So that's why he's been embracing me since earlier. )

Ayato: I guess you can't have everything.

Would've been a lot better if you were hot and had great tasting blood.

Subaru: Oi.

— Subaru throws her the knife.

Kayo: ...! What?!

My knife! It's dull!

( My favorite pastime was sharpening this thing! )

( Well, to be fair, it was my only pastime... )

Subaru: Pissed, aren't you?

Consider it a welcome gift.

Kayo: You—!!

Get back here, you brat!

( That kid...!! )

Subaru: Heh, keep screaming. You're a hundred years too early to try and pick a fight with me.

Reiji: Ah, so you left to dull her knife down.

As much as I would like to argue with father over letting another problem into our household…

Well, might as well take advantage of this situation. You’re utterly harmless without a weapon.

Kayo: ( His mood changed suddenly...? )

[crackle]

Kayo: Huh?!

A whip?! Where did that come from?!!

( These guys are total nutjobs! )

( I can't believe I'd find someone worse than Seiji-san! )

Reiji: I look forward to turning you into a proper woman.

Laito: I’d love to be the one to break her slowly though, with my love rather than with sticks and stones, nfu…

Kayo: ( Somehow this feels a lot worse than them threatening to kill me… )

( What about the blondie? He saved me once, even if it was to avoid getting punished himself... )

[rustle]

Kayo: Hey…

Shuu: Grabbing onto my sleeve…? Don't get cocky just because I saved your skin once.

I’m looking forward to punishing you for earlier.

Kayo: ( I really got my hopes up for a second there. )

( Ugh, what can I do…? I can't kill them, but they can't kill me either. )

( Even still, if I have six guys throwing me around and drinking my blood, I might as well end up dying... )

( Plus, there's also the chance that they could learn about the real bride. )

...!

I'm a demon hunter!

Shuu: A rather ineffectual one. So what?

Kayo: ( He didn't need to mention that last part. )

Well, you see, that means I was raised in the church—I have very traditional values!

That means, even if you guys are vampires and all... I only want one man to be my everything.

Shuu: Pfft. I can see you cringing from a mile away—you don't really believe that, do you?

Kayo: It's true! It's just embarrassing to admit...

Ayato: Heh, once a church girl, always a church girl, huh?

You heard her! I'll do the honors and be her everything!

Laito: Are you really deciding that on your own~? What if I'm her type? I know how to take things nice and slow, nfu~

Kanato: I hope you're saying this so no one can get between us.

If we can’t kill you, then I might as well make you a living doll.

Though, that process is a lot more painful than just getting killed outright, fufufu...

Subaru: Che, just seeing these guys get all competitive over her is pissing me off...

Laito: Oh, are your teenage hormones acting up, Subaru-kun?

Reiji: Traditional values or not, you neither have the blood or pedigree to be making outlandish demands like this.

Still, I'm interested in disciplining a wild girl like you.

Shuu: Hah, whatever. You're not worth fighting over... but I'm not against you throwing yourself at me, anyway.

Kayo: ( These guys are easily goaded... thank goodness. )

( At least I only have to deal with one of them from now on. )

( Who should I choose? )

Character Select

[Shuu] [Reiji] [Ayato]

[Kanato] [Laito] [Subaru]

Notes:

Since the concept of “Adam and Eve,” and therefore also “Lilith,” were not introduced at the time of Haunted Dark Bridal, Kayo is referred to as “Hunter,” while Yui would have been “Bride.”

Secondly, with the context that you already played at least once as Yui, Kayo’s prologue shaves away stuff like not knowing their names, not knowing they’re vampires, etc. It’s both a meta joke and also because Kayo herself knew all of this before entering the mansion. I hope this revision isn’t too jarring, it helps cut away a lot of unnecessary fluff!

[dustylava]

English is not my native language, so, i'm so sorry.

The confluence of circumstances is sometimes an extremely funny thing.

Today's day turned out to, that Queen Maeve and Homelander were in the same part of the city. They practically collided nose to nose. But, the sweet family reunion was interrupted by strange sounds, coming from behind the building, next to which the supes were collided. In fact, Homelander would absolutely not care about this, but one of the voices, of which there were about three or four, seemed to him to terribly similar to the voice of his best and only friend. Your voice. As soon as the not-sweet couple rounded the building, Homelander immediately recognized your back. Despite the fact, that you were busy kicking some guy, supe, without thinking at all, rushed to you. He didn't have time to open his mouth yet, he put his palm on your shoulder, so that he could pull you behind his back and cover you, but everything happened too quickly and unexpectedly. Immediately after his glove came into contact with your clothes, Homelander felt a strong, dull pain in the area of his nose and upper lip.

Some time ago, you were able, on your own, to fend off two freaks, who wanted your, event without them, empty wallet. Completely focused on protecting yourself and your few possessions, you didn't think, that anyone would come to your rescue. On the contrary, when someone grabbed you by the shoulder, you thought, it was the help for these guys. Angry and disappointed, you, with all your might, from a U-turn, punched the one, who was behind, somewhere in his face. It doesn't matter where exactly, the main thing, is that it hurts and strongly. When you start turned around to face the new attacker, ready to kick him again, you heard a familiar: "fuck..!" and froze in place. -Oh my God… - you covered your mouth with both hands. Homelander was standing next to you, holding his nose with his hand, looking at you dumbfounded. Everything happened so quickly, that he didn't even have time, to understand anything, just automatically covered his nose with his hand. - Oh no, please, forgive me..! Sir, are you fine? - You approached the supe, and gently took his hands away from his face. Queen Maeve just stood a little apart from you and watched this circus with surprise. Some girl, just now, broke Homelander's nose, and he stands there, and stupidly blinking his eyes at her. This is some kind of setup, right? Is this planned? Are there cameras somewhere? -God, sir, are you okay? Does it hurt? Please forgive me… - You didn't let go of the face of America's favorite hero, apologizing profusely. You addressed him, as if you didn't know him. - Here..! Wait a second! - You turned away for your torn backpack, fishing out napkins from there. - Here. Here, - you pressed a dry napkin to Homelander's nose. Only now did you notice, that the napkin immediately turned red, and droplets of blood were streaming down the man's chin. You looked with horror at his hand, with which he was covering his nose. There were traces of blood on the burgundy glove, too. -I am fine. Everything is fine, - Homelander finally said, seeing your frightened face. - I'm fine, but what the fuck was that? -She broke your nose. -I didn't mean to! -Fuck, thanks, I get it. - Homelander even without looking at Maeve, knew, that she was grinning. While you were rummaging through the ruined backpack again, the blonde sniffed a couple of times. -Here… Let me… - With a wet napkin, you began to wipe the blood from Homelander's face and neck. It's not the first time you've washed something off of him, but still, you behave like the most ordinary person, who knows about supes only from media spaces. -You've got a pretty strong punch, - he pressed a new napkin to his nose, - for a girl. -Please forgive me… - You tried to wipe the blood off collar, but it didn't work. -Don't worry about the costume. - Maeve waved off, still giggling at the situation. - There is someone to take care of it. - You looked at her with remorse. - Don't worry, he won't die of a bloody nose. He'll be fine. - She smiled kindly. -Actually, it's not feels nice. - He sniffled again and winced. The bones seem to be intact. - Are you all right yourself? - The man lifted your face with his fingers on himself. - Who are these morons and what do they want? -Um, well… - You kept wiping the blood off his skin, trying to soften the situation as much, as possible. He clearly noticed the torn backpack, but there seems, that bruises and scratches on your skin, not. - Well, the dudes wanted my money, but I want my money too. So, we had a bit of a fight and I didn't give them my money… -So, they tried to rob you, but you fought back. - Concluded the heroine. When you turned to her and nodded, Homelander finally noticed the palm marks on your neck. Judging by the way your hoodie is sticking to your shoulder, there was blood under the fabric. No matter, how much he wanted to start scolding you, examining you for injuries, and no matter, how much he wanted to hold you to him, Homelander couldn't afford it. After all, Queen Maeve was here, and no one should know about your relations. -Home, are you okay? - Supe approached him -Yeah, absolutely. - The blond grinned. - The girl, with all her desire, cannot break anything to me. - Maeve raised her eyebrows skeptically. - An ordinary girl. Okay, - the first handsome man of the country took your hands away from him. - Are you okay? - You nodded. - Will you get home by yourself? - You nodded again. - Okay, then go home, and be careful from now on. -And I… I … - You looked in the direction of the robbers coming to consciousness. One of them has almost crawled away. - Maybe I should go to the police? -No. - Homelander ruffled your hair, - don't go to the police. I'll deal with them myself. The police will have a lot of questions for you. -Homelander? - Queen Maeve raised her eyebrows. -It's okay, girls. The man has everything under control. You, girls, both looked at each other and rolled your eyes. You said goodbye to both of them, apologized again and leave. When John gets to you, obviously, a long conversation waiting for you. And you'll have to hug him. A lot.

Already in the tower, questions were showered on Homelander. His nose was a little red and slightly swollen. The skin above the upper lip was still decorated with red tracks. The chin and neck were a little reddish. The costume, too, was a little stained. -Oh my God! Homelander, sir! - Ashley dropped the folder from her hands. - Sir, are you okay?! What happened?! -Some girl broke his nose! - Queen Maeve responded cheerfully. To which Homelander rewarded her with a look, like, oh, what a funny woman you are! -How awful, my God… - Ashley was already mentally burying this very girl. -Everything is fine. - The culprit of the commotion waved away. - She apologized. -Apologized? - Ashley choked. - So she's alive? You didn't kill her? - Homelander looked at her as if she was stupid. - Well… I mean… Lasers from the eyes and… -Of course I didn't kill her! - Supe raised his voice at her again, interrupting. - Why would I do that?! She didn't do it on purpose and she apologized! I'm not some kind of monster! Fuck, Ashley, why are you so stupid?!

Ashley remembered with fear, how once, accidentally crashed into Homelander, rushing to the office on the 99th floor, with a huge pile of folders in her hands. She remembered, how he picked her up from the floor by the collar and yelled at her. How he threatened to throw her out of the window, and his eyes were burning red. And how she accidentally stepped on his foot one day… And others "not on purpose"… Poor Ashley just sighed, thinking, how hard and unfair life is.

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 12 | Words: 4k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.

He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Eventful. That was a great description for their lives right now.

After speaking with Jaheira, and then Isobel to receive her blessing, something Shadowheart did not seem pleased about, a feathered freak had come through to kidnap her, but ever the noble heart who couldn't allow the Harpers to perish to the shadow curse, Tar'eon took him on, one on one, while the rest of them slayed the winged minions.

It had been quite eventful, for the first night in the inn. Astarion thought he'd find himself in the company of Tar'eon after all of it, but when the tiefling found out Mol had been taken, he'd abandoned his side to comfort the distraught children, even if some of them were trying to act tough, trying to make a plan to get her back.

Tar'eon vowed he'd return her to them, and when Mirkon would not leave his arms, he resigned himself to putting the children to bed himself, much too big for the tiny beds, but it seemed to make the kids feel much safer to pile on top of him like pups with their mother. Astarion would admit, it was a sweet sight to come upon when he went to look for the man in the morning.

He may say he lacked perfect control over his tail, but it still managed to wrap around the children he couldn't hold in his arms, eyes closed and seemingly fast asleep.

Once Tar'eon finally came out to join the others for breakfast, Astarion noticed his tired gaze despite him drawing out a map of the Shadow Lands he'd borrowed from Jaheira. He hadn't slept much, and Astarion could tell. How much of the night did he spend worrying over Mol's kidnapping?

Tar'eon had gotten wind of a certain Sleeping Beauty over breakfast, and while Halsin insisted they figure out what was wrong with him, Tar'eon was stubborn in going straight to Moonrise and getting the tieflings back. Karlach and Wyll backed him up with no arguement, of course, and so, Halsin was stuck behind with the resting man, to be dealt with later.

"You didn't sleep well." Astarion noted as he dressed in his armour in their shared room that funnily enough, they had not shared the night before. Tar'eon sighed.

"He visited again. That butler of mine." Tar'eon sounded bitter as he struggled to lace his gauntlets. Astarion brushed his hand away with a huff and laced it tight for him, if only to end his nervous fidgeting.

"Well? What did he say?"

"He wants me to kill Isobel."

"The only one holding the Shadow Curse at bay? I may not like the Harpers, but I am not a fan of the idea, personally. For our own sake." Astarion grimaced. Killing her would just bring the curse right to them, and he knew Tar'eon wouldn't dare do that to the Harpers, or to the refugees staying there. Did this butler think the man daft?

"I just...don't understand his motives. Killing Isobel would be the death of us all."

"Perhaps all he wants is death." Astarion mused, fixing the collar of his armour. "Forget it. Can't kill the cleric if we aren't here, now can we? We have a mission to get to."

"You're right. I need to focus on getting Mol, Lia and Cal back. All of them." Tar'eons expression hardened with resolve and Astarion shook his head, grabbing the cloak off his bed. He offered it back to the man, seeing as it was his. Tar'eon took it and Astarion turned his back to grab a couple daggers, stashing them along his body, but keeping his favourite at his hip.

He stood straighter when he felt the heavy blanket of the cloak rest upon his shoulders, Tar'eons nimble fingers tying a sturdy knot to keep it there, looking as his work over Astarion's shoulder.

"It...it was a gift from him. The butler. I hate wearing it. It just - it just reminds me of what I did to Alfira. But it'll keep you safe. For every kill, you gain the power of invisibility, if only for a short period." Tar'eon smoothed his hands over the fabric, The Deathstalker's Mantle, a gift he had tried to refuse. It would have it's uses, he was sure, but he couldn't wear it himself. Couldn't bring himself to.

On Astarion though, objectively, it was quite fetching.

The vampire looked at him, seeming hesitant to accept the gift before he gave a smile, giving it a little swoosh as he stood before a mirror. He couldn't see himself, but the cloak - the cloak was gorgeous. Definitely expensive, and tailored precisely to Tar'eons measurements, if he had to guess.

To think, Tar'eon had a butler, an expensive cloak...Hells, maybe he was a prince, a murderous one at that, and just didn't know it? Astarion had always dreamed of a prince saving him from all his troubles, hadn't he? The irony of stumbling upon a possible one only after he was snatched from Cazador's grasp by another entity...

"Well, as they say. One man's trash, is another man's treasure." Astarion smirked and stepped forward, smoothing his hand over the others chest as he hummed. "I quite like all these gifts you keep giving me. However can I repay you?"

"By having my back, as I have yours." Tar'eon took his hand off his chest, holding it and chasing the chill from his fingers before he dipped his head and pressed a gentle kiss to his pale skin. The tiefling smiled at him, eyes fond as always.

Astarion was too focused on making sure his hand in his didn't shake, or god forbidden, grip back so tight he might break it.

****

"Have I ever told you how much I love your tongue?" Astarion picked up the Moon Lantern with a devilish smile, the bright light illuminating his features. A little pixie banged around inside, pleading to be set free. Tar'eon frowned, looking guilty, but Astarion shook his head.

"We're not letting you out."

"I"LL GUT YOU LIKE A-" Astarion gestured to the pixie for Tar'eon to see.

"Never trust a pixie, or any fey, my dear." He chuckled and kept a tight grip on the lantern as they travelled through the Shadow Lands. It only made sense, considering he only needed one hand for his enchanted dagger, though if needs be, he was happy to toss it to another and pull out his bow.

Seeing as he held the lantern, he led the way, but after a few hours of walking in what he was starting to believe was a circle...Well, they were honestly a bit lost. No, it wasn't his fault for refusing the map twice.

"If I have to follow him for another hour, I'll kill him." Wyll groaned, obviously sick of walking to nowhere.

"Astar, please. Just let me lead."

"You cannot fight and hold the lantern, darling, trust me, we're making head way -" And by the grace of whatever was holy, it seemed they had. Up ahead, he saw buildings, and he smirked. Not a castle, but something. "See?"

"It doesn't look like Moonrise."

"And how do you know what Moonrise looks like, hm?" Astarion challenged.

"It's a castle. This is not a castle, Astar."

"It's a town though, which means the castle is close. Trust me." Astarion waved his concerns off and continued on. Unsurprisingly, they were ambushed by shadow creatures.

It wasn't a hard feat to slash them down, not with Wyll and Lae'zel on the team, as much as he wished for Shadowheart's healing. Unfortunately, she'd woken up with a bloody limp. He should have expected it, after all those little glances, all those secret smiles. Their darling who burned hotter than Avernus and the Shar princess were down bad. With Karlach no longer a workplace injury in the flesh, she must have jumped at the chance.

He did wonder how a limp played into it, but who was he to expose such secrets? Though, they were barely a secret.

"Gods, I miss the sun." Astarion muttered. This place was so gloomy, and cold. He did peak a castle in the distance though, and smirked. See? He had been on the right track! "Tar'eon-"

Before he could inform him, the tiefling took off, curse be damned, and Astarion swore, running after the stupid man, Wyll and Lae'zel behind him.

"Arabella!" He barely kept their leader in the glow on their safety net, but once he saw what, or in this case who, he was running towards, he found himself rolling his eyes. It was always children. He had no self preservation when he saw a child in need. It was that young tiefling girl they'd saved from Kagha's viper.

"Hey! I know you. You're -" Astarion moved for his dagger when two shadow-y creatures burst from the ground, looming over Tar'eon and the girl. He readied himself to strike, but it seemed the child was one step ahead.

"Twist'em up!" With a pale green glow, the tiefling child managed to bind the shadows in place with her vines, looking exhausted from that feat alone.

"It's you - our little idol thief from the druids grove!" There was no doubt about it. Astarion would admit, he was growing a touch fond of the little band of thieves. He'd make an excellent mentor, he'd like to think. He could teach them more than a thing or two about being a rogue.

The tiefling child slumped her shoulders, and Astarion wondered if he'd said the wrong thing, but no, the child was looking at Tar'eon.

"Sorry. Knocks the wind right out of me." Arabella apologised. Wyll stepped forward with a smile.

"You did that with no incantation. That's an impressive feat. That kind of sorcery only comes from deep within." Of course the warlock had an opinion on her magic. Arabella seemed to stand straighter after the praise.

"That druid idol I took? It changed me. I can do all sorts of stuff now, not just the vines." Arabella looked to Tar'eon like she was searching for his praise next. "I think real hard and say some loud words and then it happens. Mostly." Tar'eon rested a hand on her head and ruffled between her horns, crouching down.

"What are you doing out here, Arabella? It's not safe." The girl withdrew into herself, suddenly as scared and frightened as she should be.

"I was looking. For mum and pops. When Zevlor - when he -" Her chin gave a little wobble but she stopped it quickly, as if refusing to cry over the matter. "Well. There was an ambush. Mum yelled 'run!'...So we ran. I could hear 'em running behind me. 'Til I couldn't."

Tar'eons eyes softened, filled with mourning for the girl as they both drew the same conclusion. They were both likely dead.

"Still can't find 'em - but I bet you can. You'll help me, I just know it!" Tar'eon gave a tight smile and nodded.

"I'll find your parents, Arabella. You can count on me." The relief was palpable from the young girl.

"Thanks, mister. I knew you'd help me again." Of course he would. He was a bleeding heart. "The vines won't last forever." Arabella looked towards the shadow creatures with apprehension. "I don't - I don't s'pose I can stay with you? Just 'til you find mum and pops, I won't be any trouble, I swear it!"

Astarion looked at Tar'eon apprehensively. A child? In their camp? That sounded like a dreadful idea. Though, Scratch could always use some more love, he supposed.

Tar'eon smiled.

"My friends are currently at the Last Light Inn. Cerys and the other children are there too. I'm afraid Mol was kidnapped during an attack, but I'm on my way to bring her back, along with the other tieflings." Tar'eon took the girls hand and squeezed. "I'll help you there with a little bit of ancient magic, alright? Speak to the others of my party when you arrive. Though, do not mind Withers. He's a bit scary to look at, but he's harmless, despite his lurking." Tar'eon smiled and took her other hand. He closed his eyes.

"I'm find your parents, Arabella. I'm going to make sure you all make it to Baldur's Gate this time."

"Thank you - Bring mum and pops back there. I'll be waiting." In a flash of purple, the young girl disappeared, likely landing herself outside the Inn as Tar'eon promised.

"Always the bleeding heart, darling." Astarion chuckled.

"He did the right thing. Who knows - maybe if we find Arabella's parents, they'll have a lead towards where the tieflings are being held in Moonrise." Wyll interjected and Astarion rolled his eyes.

"They'll either be dead, or in a prison cell. These Absolute cultists aren't exactly creative, or merciful. He saw the drow woman, and Nere."

"I'd like to hold onto hope that they're still alive regardless, thank you." Wyll frowned, annoyed by Astarion's blase tone.

"Of course you do. You're obsessed with fairy tales, and not the cold, hard truths of this world." Astarion bit out, glaring at the other man.

"Fairy tales can teach us a lot about how hard the world is, but in the end, hope will always prevail." Wyll crossed his arms, matching his gaze. Every thing about him screamed nobility, even in drabs, and Astarion wanted to tear into him. He wanted to sink his nails into his insecurities, his righteous nature, and claw them away until the man was raw and hopeless, just like he was.

"Hope drives men to madness more often than it does to happiness, devil man."

The muscle in Wyll's cheek twitched, looking ready to draw his blade on the vampire, but Tar'eon stood between them, a hand on either ones chest.

"Stop it. You've lived vastly different lives, with separate, incomprehensible struggles. You may believe the world to be bleak, Astarion, but Wyll does not. You may have given up on the notion of hope, but the rest of us haven't. All I ask is that you let it go."

Astarion could feel the back of his neck burning from the scolding, even if Tar'eon tone was more netural than fierce. He huffed and with a whip of his cloak, continued forward. He heard Tar'eon sigh, the others footsteps following him, if only because he held the lantern.

"Thank you. For sticking up for me." Wyll said in a soft voice to Tar'eon, but he could still hear it.

"Don't thank me. I'm just not ready to give up hope yet. It's...all I- we have left."

****

"Well, we've got our solution to my little problem. I say we go ahead." Astarion smirked as he made towards the entrance, but Tar'eon held him back by the elbow. He turned to the man and quirked a brow. "Yes?"

"We have to find Arabella's parents first, Astar. And free the tieflings, remember? Get Mol back."

"They aren't going to be more dead if we take a detour, darling." Astarion waved a hand and narrowed his eyes. "This is a deal that doesn't involve servitude. I'm going to take my chances before he decides to up the stakes."

"And if they're not? We don't know what's inside there, but I doubt it's leaving any time soon. Komira and her husband, Mol, the other tieflings - they can't wait."

"I thought this was important to you. Am I remembering it wrong, dear?" The pet name held no affection.

"Don't use that against me. I promised you we'd find a way to translate your scars. I meant it. But lives are at stake, and this can wait."

"You know I'm not patient."

"Learn some patience then. This will be a good lesson." Tar'eon wasn't giving in, and Astarion gritted his teeth, baring his fangs with a growl and shoving the lantern into the other mans hands.

"Fine. But if they're dead, like I predict they are, you owe me."

"Astarion..."

"Go on. We have corpses to find." Astarion said bitterly and stalked down the hill, forcing Tar'eon to follow. The tiefling sighed, looking weary as Wyll placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't take it to heart. He's a prickly creature. You're right to put urgency to this mission. They're your people, and they're relying on you. The best decisions aren't always the easiest."

"He doesn't believe in heroes. I know he doesn't. He's selfish because he see no point in being selfless. He doesn't gain anything from it. No one was ever selfless was his sake. I know he hates it when I tell him no." Tar'eon knew Astarion had flaws. That didn't stop his heart from aching.

He loved him. Deeply. In such a short time span, he'd managed to launch himself into the deep end of this pool of affection he felt for the other man, but he didn't know how to love him without receiving his fangs half of the time. He knew why Astarion was this way. He was afraid, they all were, but his fear was volatile.

He cursed Cazador for breaking down the man who held his heart in pale hands, ready to be devoured between sharp, pointed teeth.

"We can't always get what we want. He'll learn that with time."

"He's never had what he wants, Wyll. He hates when I tell him no, because that's all he's ever heard." Tar'eons brows drew together, pinched into a painful expression as he departed from Wyll's side, head bowed. Wyll stayed a few paces behind, unsure what to say to that. Lae'zels arm brushed his and he looked at her, the githyanki staring ahead at the pair.

"Tar'eon is a warrior, while Astarion is simply a survivor; they bear their burdens differently." She made a sound of irritation, as if she were planning to spit on the ground to get a foul taste out of her mouth. "I do not know what draws them together, but it is...palpable."

"And why're you telling me this?" Wyll quirked a brow, voice low as not to be heard, much like her near whisper.

"Because you follow after our leader like a dog. You are a warrior, like he is. Yet you hold yourself back. That is your failing. You idealise stories, fiction, and expect things to simply fit into place, like words on parchment." Lae'zel's cat like eyes turned onto him, intensely yellow in the darkness of the shadow lands.

"You must take action. Like a warrior." She stood straighter, somehow. Her posture was always perfect, much like his. Instinctive to stand tall. "Before he is tied down by the vampire."

"Astarion and Tar'eon - it won't last." Wyll was sure of that. "Astarion doesn't seem the type for...long term. Tar'eon seems the type to only want that."

"And yet, Tar'eon can convince the nightstalker to do many things that are out of the ordinary for him."

"What do you suggestion then? You seem to be well versed in this after all." Wyll quirked a brow, crossing his arms.

"Woo him." Lae'zel's eyes shone, her slitted pupils widening like she had spotted something she quite liked, gaze intense on the warlock. "Show him you are the better match. In my culture, the Githyanki do so by intimate combat."

"I'm afraid to ask what makes it intimate." Wyll frowned, looking away from her. For a githyanki, she was a beauty, but her ruthless attitude until now had made it hard to converse with her, not to mention her unsettling amount of eye contact. It was quite intimidating. As the journey continued though, he found she had opened up, if only a little, without her knowledge.

"I'd show you, if you weren't after another." Lae'zel hummed. "If things fall through, do feel free to ask for my company. Your scent is...not unpleasant."

Wyll blinked and watched her break stride, staying beside Tar'eon now in silence. He frowned as he picked at the collar of his robe, giving it a small sniff. While he had bathed the night prior, his armour hadn't had the chance to be washed in quite some time. He watched the githyanki and the tiefling, the large man offering her half his apple after breaking it in half.

Had he...been propositioned while being given relationship advice at the same time?

****

"I can't believe you convinced him to just kill himself." Astarion couldn't help the surge of giddiness thinking back to it. He knew he liked Tar'eon for a reason.

"I was avoiding a fight, and the man was insane." Tar'eon shrugged. "They say everyone is their own worst enemy." He picked up the lute and frowned. He doubted it belonged to the man. He'd find use of it. He slung it onto his back and placed his flute in his bag. It wasn't the only instrument he knew how to play, but it was his preferred instrument. It made a sweet sound, in his opinion.

"Well then...lets ransack the place." Astarion smirked as he went about looting anything he could. He wasn't particularly happy about this little side quest they were doing, but he was refusing to let Tar'eon get under his skin. He could act civil. The better person. Let Tar'eon come and grovel to him first.

They traversed through the building, searching for anything good, and stumbled upon what looked to be an infirmary. Wyll's face grew grim as he looked upon the bodies lying in the bed.

"It's Arabella's parents..."

"Fuck." Tar'eon came closer to look, shining the lantern upon them. Wyll was right. Komira and Locke laid together in the bed, well past reviving. His heart broke for little Arabella.

Tar'eon would have to tell her...she'd been so hopeful that he'd be able to help her. He felt like he had failed her, even if it was obvious that her parents had been dead for a while, a couple days at least. How long had Arabella been out there, looking for her parents?

"I told you." Astarion said, arms crossed, shaking his head. He sounded disappointed despite being right. "I told you this mission was pointless."

Tar'eon whipped around and grabbed the collar of his cloak, his tail whipping wildly in his anger.

"Don't. Just- don't."

"Oh please, even that child knew, deep down. She got her hopes up - she got your hopes up. I told you, it's pointless. If you think someone is dead? They likely are." Astarion had given many people over to Cazador, and while he didn't see their demise, he knew. When people were captured by monsters, they didn't simply come back. There was no point in hoping they'll escape their fate, whether you helped them or not. Sometimes death was better than what they'd live through if they were to live.

Tar'eons eyes held nothing but anger, with hurt bleeding into them as he let Astarion go, stepping back.

"Go back to the Inn then. If you don't want to help me, then you can go." Astarion opened his mouth in shock. He'd never been banished from the party before. He was always beside him, throughout the whole journey.

"You- you can't banish me." He laughed, breathless. "You need me."

"Not right now, I don't." Tar'eon gaze steeled. "Go, Astarion. Maybe a bit of time alone will make you realise how much of an asshole you are sometimes."

"I-..." Astarion scoffed. "I've never tried to hide that part of myself from you. It's your own fault if your poor heart is broken over the hard truths of this world." He stepped back and put on a expression that Tar'eon hadn't seen since the first day they met. Cool and calm; superior. Unfeeling.

"I'll see you tonight. Do tell me all the gory details when you find the bodies of those tieflings, unless they are by some miracle, alive." In a flash, he forced his connection to the sigil to bring him back to the Inn, opening his eyes to firelight and the scent of grass, rather then damp, darkness.

Astarion scowled and stormed off to his room, ignoring Shadowheart and Karlach's sounds of surprise at his return as he bounded up the stairs and slammed the door hard enough to rattle through the wall, dust falling into his hair. He snarled and ran a hand through it, running the perfect picture he tried to maintain painstakingly ever morning.

Good riddance. For once, maybe he could relax and read a book instead of being blasted and slashed at. He laid back on his bed, not caring about his armour as he tugged off his boots. He reached for the book sticking out of Tar'eons spare pack and opened it to the first page.

A Beginners Guide To The Infernal Language.

He glowered but read on. It might do him some good to learn more about the language scrawled on his back, if he was to convince Raphael to explain.

He never should have expected help. How foolish. He would help himself, like he always had.

The only person you could trust in this world was yourself.

[romanticwealth]

A real fucking horror story

Content warning - FANON MASKY!!!! THAT STUPID TWINK!!!!!

—

It was supposed to be a normal night. I get on my phone, look at my socials, log off to go draw, all the normal bullshit. I listen to a bit of music (Hollywood Undead, Nico Collins, Ice Nine Kills, etc., use your imagination), and then I play some video games. That’s all it was supposed to be, yeah?

I guess someone had other plans.

See, it was around 3am. I know what you’re asking- “why the hell were you up at 3am?” Because I was drawing. Simple. Sure I had something to do in a couple of hours, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was my yaoi fanart while I listened to Millionaires!!!

Anyways, so I’m scribbling on my iPad. I’m working on my artwork of guys kissing. In a few minutes I’m going to get on my phone and look at Discord to yell at my friends.

Just then, someone taps on my window. This of course, freaks me the fuck out. It’s three in the damn morning- who’s tapping on my window? It ain’t rain, and it ain’t the wind. This is horrifying. I turn off all my devices and pretend to be asleep, despite the internal dread I’m feeling knowing that someone is at my window.

Then, I hear my window opening. Woah- what the fuck? Now this is pure horror. I shut my eyes tightly and pray for all this to be some sort of dream, nightmare, anything to know that this ain’t real. I clutch my plague doctor plush and feel my lip quivering. Fuck.

I suddenly feel a presence in my room. The sound of boots hitting my floor and the smell of the outside world hitting my nose as I still pretend to be asleep. There’s a presence looming over me now, and I’m debating on if I should just get up and fight this person off. But they may have a weapon- what do I have? My fists? Yeah right. Like that’ll save me.

“Wake up,” I hear. The voice is… god, so irritable. It’s high pitched and squeaky. Talk about a bad break-in. That’s when I realize that I may just have power over this person.

So I drop the act and swing my fist, hitting something. It’s the person, judging by the pained yelp. I get up and grab the closest thing I could- a prop axe. I begin beating this mysterious foe with it, wincing at every pained groan and yelp I hear. I’m not violent by any means, but I felt like a fucking wrestler in this very moment.

After a bit, I see that they’re weakened. I drop the prop axe and put my foot on this person’s chest. I lean down and pull off their stupid mask.

God, I felt like my soul left my body when I saw their piercing blue eyes. The only thing I thought was, “oh god, please get this person brown contacts.” Not, “Jesus Christ, someone broke into my home.” That’s how pathetic and weak this guy looks.

“Please,” he whimpers. “I’ll leave and never-“

“Shut the fuck up,” I interrupt. “You don’t get to break into my home and then ask me for mercy. Who do you think you are?” I sneer, pressing my foot down more. He yelps again. At this point, I’m wishing that I had grabbed something heavier to knock him out with.

“What’s your name?” I ask. “The police are gonna have a field day with you.” I comment. The intruder doesn’t respond.

“Name.” I demand. He winces. “T-Timothy.” He says.

“Hi Timothy,” I say, getting my foot off of his chest and forcing him onto his feet.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, you’re gonna get the fuck out of my house and if you dare come back or even think about it, I will not be as nice as I’m being to you right now.”

“Do you understand?”

He nods quickly, so I force him back out of my window and shut it with more force.

Since that day, I haven’t been able to get the smell of cheesecake and those piercing blue eyes out of my mind. I sometimes still see them when I close my own eyes. They haunt me. It’s like my house is haunted by that twink-truder.

I hope I don’t see him again. If I do, I’ll be keeping my fucking word.

[bowiebond]

Byler - It’s Always Been The Same (It’s Always Been You)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39577800

They were warned when they finally met up with the gang in Hawkins. Vecna was targeting anyone vulnerable to his twisted powers and they had to be careful. So when they parted ways, Eleven giving Mike one last look as she delved under Max's welcoming arm, leaving Jonathan, Mike and Argyle to watch over Will - "He was the first one taken by the Upside Down, he's been in danger since the rift opened, he needs to be watched closely while we scout around for more rifts in the area if we want to pull off our plan."

And just as Steve had predicted, not longer after they left the four of them alone, the lights flickered. Mike felt like his shoulders might be stone from how stiff he is, on Will's left as Argyle began to freak out.

"Oh god, we're dead, we're so dead, this creepy Freddy Kruger is gonna eat our souls." Jonathan is soothing him with a hand on his back and kind murmurs, eyes watching the lights closely. There's not much he can do when Will choked on his shaking voice and his eyes roll back.

"Will!"

"Oh god!" Argyle wheezed, eyes wide. Mike cursed and grabbed Will's arm, trying to keep him on the ground. "Oh god, what was his song again? They said we needed a song! Why didn't you ask?!"

"Shit, shit," Jonathan ran to Will's side, patting his face and looking around the room with fear. "His favourite song - his favourite song is-" His mind came up blank in his panic and Argyle looked ready to cry.

"You! You're his best friend, surely you know, right, little man?!"

"I-" Mike's thoughts felt like static the longer he stared at Will's shaking form. The walk man in his hand would have dents if he held it any tighter. "I don't know. I don't know." He had barely spoken to Will since he moved away, how was he supposed to know what his favourite song was?

"Shit, shit- I know! I'll- I'll go get the other guys! They'll know what to do!" Argyle practically sprints on the door despite Jonathan's protests and Jonathan can feel Will's weight being pulled up, harder, fighting his own strength. It's in the quiet, Mike and Jonathan's heavy breathing and the flickering lights filling the room, that it becomes clear to Johnathan — he knows. He knows because he heard it a million times through the walls of their house, when he was painting that painting for Mike.

“It’s the same.” Jonathan breathes, shaking hands riffling through his box of tapes from the van and forcing the cassette into the Walkman, cranking the volume. “It’s always been the same.” They can all hear it through the headphones as it blasts.

Darling, you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go?

If you say that you are mine

I'll be here 'til the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go?

Jonathan turns his glare onto Mike, eyes filled with the frustration and pain only a brother who’s been there since day one could feel.

“Now’s your one chance. Your only chance, Mike Wheeler. Should he stay, waiting and pining for you say it, or should he go, and move on and away from you for good?”

Mike is torn between Will’s shaking figure, and where he’s cradled gently against Jonathan’s chest.

One day it's fine and next it's black

So if you want me off your back

“I—I don’t understand. I don’t—“

“He loves you!” The wind outside is clattering against the windows, the lights are making his eardrums ache, but Jonathons voice is ringing louder than any bell he’s ever heard. “He’s always loved you.” And he looks like he wants to cry, to bear all the burden of his brothers heartache.

Well, come on and let me know

Should I stay or should I go?

“I…of course he does. He—…he’s my best friend.” Mike’s throat felt tight, too tight, chest constricting as his eyes fought between Will and Jonathan.

“Is that all?” Jonathan’s eyes pleaded with him, like he knew what he’d say next and was begging him not to.

This indecision's bugging me

“I…Y-yes. That’s all. He’s my best friend, and I’ll— I’ll always— he’s my best friend!”

If you don't want me, set me free

“You can’t even say it, can you?” Jonathon’s jaw clenched. “He can’t keep going like this. He can’t keep waiting for you like he’s done for years. He deserves to move on! To be happy.”

Just who the fuck am I supposed to be?

“Will is happy! Will is happy because— he- he smiles! Whenever I looked at him, he was happy, how—“

“You make him happy,”

Don't even know which clothes'll fit me

“But his feelings for you? They make him miserable.” Jonathan watched as Mike’s face crumbled.

“Does…does he…”

So come on and let me know

“You’re so blind.” Jonathan laughed, looking down at Will with desperation. “Come on…Come on, Will.”

“I…” The world tilts; it feels bigger than the discovery of the Upside Down. Overwhelming, making his entire body tingle and heart thunder along with the storm outside.

He kneels besides Will, trying to control the panic in his chest, the one that crawls through every limb, into every blood cell.

Will likes him. Like, really, really likes him. Loves him.

“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

He should have known when that silence rang louder between them than the screech of a Demodog. He thinks maybe he did know, and didn’t want to face it. He was in love; he adored El and envisioned a future with her, dreamed of it in the panels of comic books with childish wonder.

Then she moved. And over time the letters became less El and more Jane, more ordinary and that intense wonder and thrill and constant concern died down into soft warm feeling — like the one he felt when Dustin rolled a nat 20, or when Max skated circles around him, or when Lucas cracked a joke so funny he snorted out milk in the cafeteria, or even when Steve ruffled his hair and shoved him for being a smart ass.

He liked kissing her, she was soft and pretty and had the nicest smile. He liked making her happy. She deserves it after so much horror. But eventually he stopped missing her every night, mail would surprise instead of excite him, and he would think to himself “El would like this” but in the same thought lump her with Max’s interest, or Lucas’s, or even Dustin’s.

Yet everything reminded him of Will. For months everywhere he went reminded him of the decade of friendship he shared with him in their small town. The swings where they met, the crooked mailbox Will rode into when they were nine, the packets of candy he’d grab without a second thought along with his own because ‘it’s Will’s favourite’. It would only be after he paid that he’d remember the distance, sitting in his bed for hours eating candy he didn’t even like because he missed him.

Will’s lack of presence left a dent in his life that he never let himself think too hard about. And when he did, he’d pick up a pen, set to write something down for him only to reread it and realise how…wistful it was. How vulnerable every letter was, every one addressed “Dear Will” and signed “Love Mike”.

He hid everyone and sent the ones that didn’t make his stomach flip and squirm with discomfort while rereading his own feelings, his own thoughts. Eventually he stopped trying to write passable letters and just tucked them in his drawer instead without considering to post them.

Seeing him in person again — it brought that rush of discomfort again. That twist in his gut that made his hair stand on end and his ears hot and his flesh spring up in goosebumps. He couldn’t look Will in the eye like he used to, but hugging El, kissing her, it felt safe, comfortable.

The giddiness from before had simmered to nothing but it was better than thinking about why he was so reluctant to hug Will despite the rush of happiness at seeing his face again. He had grown, changed, but it was a good change. He looked — handsome. In a boyish way. In an awkward, bowl cut way. Handsome.

And the painting in his hands for the girl Will had been crushing on according to El was in his hands, plain at day, and Mike had never wanted to see something more but felt so reluctant to ask. Like his mind knew it was a bad idea to stare upon a piece that wasn’t made for him — after all, Will had always left his best work for Mike cause he was in best friend.

Mike is so dumb. He’s so dumb and he can’t believe he’s only realising now, that his best friend is so much more than he ever wanted him to be. But it’s scary, it’s terrifying, to look all his normal, not supernatural fears in the face and still want it, adore it.

“I…” Mike looked up, eyes full of tears, and Jonathan just smiled sadly.

“Do you finally get it, kid?”

“I—I can’t…I don’t know how—“

“Just say it.” Jonathan smiled. “Its there.” He rose a finger and pressed it against his pounding heart. “Its always been there.”

So you gotta let me know

Mike’s mouth felt like cotton, tongue useless, but it was there. Those three words, buried down in his chest.

“I…I love — him.” A hot flush of relief washed down his spine as he hung his head with a suppressed sob. “I—I do. I l-love him too.”

Should I stay or should I go?

Will’s eyes were fluttering, wild and blank to the world. Mike sniffed, breathing out hard as the revelation choked him. He loved his best friend. He was in love with his best friend.

He was in love with Will. A boy.

And like a dumb, teenage boy, he was overflowing with the knowledge at the worst time.

“Will. Will, come on. Will, please!”

He’s never been happier to see those big, brown eyes meet his, wheezing and gasping with a hand fisted in Jonathan’s sleeve; his other hand gripped Mike’s arm so hard he thought it might bruise.

“Will!” Jonathan gave a watery laugh as he hugged his brothers head to his chest, setting the cassette to loop back and restart the song. Will looked between the two boys, the song muffling the outside world. Wills eyes lingered on Mike, his scrunched up face and spilling tears, cheeks an ugly blotchy red.

“Mike, what’s wrong?” He rose a hand to move the headphone out of the way but Mike clasped his hand over his, keeping it there. “Mike…?” His favourite song filled his ears as Mike’s eyes tried to meet him but flickered away again and again until he took a visibly deep breath.

Will felt winded at the sheer determination in Mike’s gaze, focused and intent on keeping Will’s attention.

“I—I’m only gonna say it once, o-okay?” Will furrowed his brows, barely making out his words above the sound.

He can’t mistake the words his lips form though.

“I…I love you, Will.” Will’s eyes widened. “And not in a friend way.”

Jonathan slowly backed away from the pair as Will gazed at Mike with stars in his eyes. Slowly, he sat up on his own — their height gap had closed in the year apart and Mike swallowed hard, dropping his hands back into his lap.

“Really?” There’s so much hope in his voice, blinking rapidly as his eyes well, trying to hold back the pent up heartache that threatened to be relieved from his system.

Mike slowly nodded and Will bloomed like a sunflower, smile so bright Mike thought it might rival all the stars in the sky.

“Mike.” He throws himself at him; he crushes Mike in the hug he had been craving since the airport, feels his thumping heart as the music seeped into his bones. Mike holds him back just as tight, burying his nose in his shoulder like he’s trying to memorise his mere presence down to his scent and Will never thought he’d have his own pitiful love reflected when he takes in the smell of warmth and earth and weed that clung to the van and now clings to Mike’s hair.

When they part, Will stays close, hesitant as he meets Mike’s eyes. And for a daring second, he leans in closer, a breath away, but Mike flinches and embarrassment, shame, spills from its bottle and into his bloodstream.

“S-sorry,” He murmured, down casting his eyes and Mikes heart squeezes as the deep red staining Will’s cheeks, the tiniest pout of disappointment.

“No, it’s, it’s fine, I—“ But Will’s ears are occupied and Mike’s face burns as his hands awkwardly grab Will’s cheeks and kisses him hard and quick. They bump noses and it kind of hurts, but the overflowing warmth, the tingle like fairy dust that makes you fly, it settles into Mike’s being and he’s smiling a little too big for his freckled face.

Will stared at him in wonder, lips parted and moving like a fish out of water.

“I— I’m new to this. Be patient with me. Please?” He hoped Will can read his lips, and he thinks he must get it because he smiles softly and huffs a laugh through his nose, head falling into Mike’s chest.

“I love you too.” Will whispered, relaxed. “I have for…a long time.” It’s quiet and the Clash fills it softly. “Thank you.”

Mike doesn’t think he should be thanked for doing something as natural as falling in love with his best friend.

As natural as falling in love with Will.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Summer Vacation

Prompt: Avengers prompt!

Peter is going to summer school so he can get ahead for his senior year, but when he tried to explain why he was going to the team, they didn't seem to listen, instead focusing on the fact that Peter is going to summer school.

They start teasing him, joking about how he really couldn't be much of a genius if he was going to summer school and things like that.

But Peter takes them seriously. He starts to think that he's stupid or something like that, despite the fact that he's doing all his easy classes (gym/PE, health, etc) over the summer so that he can do his harder classes (AP Biology, Physics, Spanish 4/AP Spanish, etc) during the year 

Tony finds out and he, Bucky, Sam, and/or Rhodey team up to essentially give the team the most extreme dressing down/lecture they've ever had

Love you and all your hard work! - augustwritessometimes

Read on Ao3

Warnings: peter has a lil mini freak out and some of the avengers are kinda jerk ish

Pairings: it’s gen all the way down folks

Word Count: 3987

“Summer plans,” Steve prompts, “you have any?”

Peter swallows. “Yeah, yeah, I, um, I got some plans.”

Or, Peter isn't exactly thrilled to let the Avengers know that he's planning on going to summer school. But it's fine, he's just...doing things the way he wants to do them. They'll understand.

...right?

“So,” Clint says as they sit down in the living room, “last summer before senior year, huh?”

“Yep.” Peter kicks the remote over to him. “One more year and then I’m in college!”

“Shit, kid, you’re growing.”

“You know time passes for everyone, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to remind me how old I am.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“’S what you meant, though.” Clint elbows him. “Young whippersnappers think you can get away with everything nowadays, don’t you?”

“You sound like Mr. Stark.”

“I’m not that old.”

“Who’re we calling old?” Natasha walks in and sits next to Peter, ruffling his hair. “Hey, Baby Spider.”

“Mama Spider,” Peter sighs, leaning into it as Clint makes a fake-gagging noise in the background. “Clint was saying that Mr. Stark—“

“Ah, yes, that makes sense.”

“I didn’t even finish!”

“You didn’t have to.” She winks and ruffles his hair again. “So, you’re a senior when you go back in the fall, huh?”

“Yeah.” 

Oh, god, he’s gonna be a senior. He’s gonna go off to college. Oh, wow. Time is passing. Rude. 

“You gonna go all out this summer, then?” Clint leans against the back of the couch. “Party big time? Get Tony to introduce you to the playboy lifestyle before you’ve gotta settle all down and be serious for the college admissions teams?”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to do it the summer before he goes to college?”

“Nah. Then they’re already watching you ‘cause you ‘represent them,’ or whatever. Beforehand? You just gotta hide it well enough and you’ll be just fine.”

Silence. Clint looks over to see both Natasha and Peter staring at him. 

“What? I didn’t go to college, I physically can’t speak from experience.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s that look for?”

“No, no, Mr. Barton, I totally believe you.”

Clint picks up a pillow and whacks him—gently!—in the face with it. 

“Hey!”

“No assaulting my Baby Spider,” Natasha says, pulling Peter closer and glaring at Clint, “he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Why, ‘cause he’s your Precious or whatever?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t think I’d be compared to the One Ring today,” Peter mumbles half into Natasha’s sleeve, “but here we are.”

Natasha gives him one more squeeze Clint does his very best not to look fond at—seriously, these guys are super spies, you’d think they’d have a little better control of their faces—and lets him go. Peter sits up and tries to get his hair back under control. 

“So since you’re not doing whatever the hell it was Barton suggested,” Natasha says, “what are you doing?”

“Well, I—uh—“

“Are we talking about summer plans?”

“Dr. Banner?” Peter turns around, hanging over the back of the couch. “I thought you weren’t getting in ’til tomorrow!”

“Conference wrapped up early, caught a good flight.” He settles into one of the chairs. “You were right, by the way, kid, about the neutrinos. Good catch.”

“Thanks, Dr. Banner, sir.”

He cracks a smile. “You don’t need to do all that, kid.”

“He’s still calling Tony ‘Mr. Stark,’” Clint stage-whispers, “I don’t think this is something you can fight.”

“What’re we fighting?”

“Okay, did all of you just finish right when we were gonna start hanging out?” Clint throws his hands up as Steve comes to join them too. “Where are all of you coming from?”

Steve blinks. “I just went to the bathroom after dinner, Clint. You saw me not ten minutes ago.”

“Wait, really?”

“He’s getting old, Steve,” Peter stage-whispers, “you have to be nice to him.”

“Well, unless I’m very much mistaken, I’m still the oldest around here when Thor’s not in town.”

“But you got the serum and were then cryogenically frozen.”

“Ah, yes, you’re right.”

“You little—“ 

“Hey,” Peter shrieks as Clint starts roughhousing with him, “hey! No! Not fair!”

“Of course it’s fair, you need to respect your elders!”

“Giving me noogies is not going to make me respect you!”

“No?”

“No!” Peter squirms against Clint’s grip. “It’s just what all the bullies at school do!”

He gasps as the hold suddenly releases and he’s pulled into another protective hug. As his face is smushed into the leather jacket, he can feel the death glare Natasha is giving Clint over his head. He fumbles around and pats clumsily at her elbow. 

“’S fine,” he slurs, “it didn’t hurt that much, ‘m good, don’t kill him.”

“Sorry, Peter,” Clint says softly, “are you okay?”

“Yup, yeah, ‘m fine.” He keeps fumbling to try and get Natasha to let go. “We’re all good, Mama Spider, leggo.”

Natasha does but she keeps glaring at Clint even after Peter leans the other way and rests his head on his shoulder. 

“Well, when I came in,” Bruce says, trying to break the tension, “we were talking about summer plans.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Steve turns to him. “Your last summer before senior year, right?”

“You guys do know there’s technically only one summer before senior year, right?”

Clint very gently hits his leg. “Don’t be a smartass, kid.”

“He’s Tony’s protege,” Bruce sighs, “don’t think that’s an option.”

“Summer plans,” Steve prompts, “you have any?”

Peter swallows. “Yeah, yeah, I, um, I got some plans.”

Steve perks right up. “Yeah? You and Aunt May gonna go anywhere, do anything? Are MJ and Ned gonna come?”

“Ooh, are MJ and Ned coming?” 

Peter lifts his head to look up at Clint. “Why are you so excited about that?”

“You got friends, Pete. That’s exciting.”

“You—do you not also have friends?”

“Them? Nah. We tolerate each other at best.” 

At the vague noises of agreement, Peter looks around in confusion until Natasha gives him a wink. He settles back against Clint and shakes his head. 

“No, we’re not planning any trips. We, uh, don’t have the funds for that.”

“Kid. You know Tony’d foot the bill for anything you wanted, right?”

“Yeah, but then he’d also try to plan some of it, and May and I don’t really have the same…lifestyle choices that he does.”

Bruce snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”

“So no trips, then,” Natasha says, “but plans?”

“Yeah.” 

When he doesn’t say anything else, Clint prods him. 

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Quit being so tight-lipped, Pete, just tell us.”

“But they’re boring,” Peter whines, gesturing to the others, “what are you guys gonna do?”

“Right now, I’m gonna listen to what your plans for the summer are.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.”

“Yeah, I like that idea.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “You guys are the worst.”

“Sure are,” Clint deadpans, “so spill.”

“I’m gonna do summer school.”

Crickets. 

Then Steve huffs. “Okay, kid, if you don’t want to tell us, you don’t have to.”

Peter frowns. “I just did. Those are my plans, I’m doing summer school.”

“Why would you need to do summer school?” Bruce leans forward. “You’re one of the smartest kids I know.”

Clint snorts. “Evidently not.”

“Hey!” Peter sits up and pulls away from him. “What does that mean?”

“You’re going to summer school, Pete,” Clint says slowly like he needs to hear what he just said again, “isn’t that for the kids who need more time than the normal school year?”

“Well, yeah, but—“

“Don’t make fun of him, Barton,” Steve says, “if Peter needs a bit more help for his senior year, that’s fine.”

“It’s not that I need help—“

“No, no, it’s okay, Peter.” Bruce shifts in the chair. “I shouldn’t have said it like that. You’re not any less important to us just because you’re doing summer school.”

Peter frowns. “No, that’s not what I—“

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “it’s fine. We understand.”

No, you don’t, Peter wants to scream, you don’t and now you’re all treating me like a kid but not in the way that you need to ‘cause I’m still squishy, in the bad way where you don’t listen to me and assume you know everything and you need to listen to me and—

“So,” Steve says, turning to Bruce, “what’re your plans for the next few months?”

And they move on. 

Peter’s left there, sitting on the couch, trying to figure out how to explain why he’s going to summer school. But every time he tries to say something or figure out how to break into the conversation, there’s this awkward moment in his head where he’s sure they’re just going to give him that condescending or patronizing okay, Peter, and he doesn’t want that either. 

Okay. 

Okay, maybe that’ll be the end of it. He can just…go to summer school and it’ll be fine and then everything will go back to normal. 

Then Clint starts teasing him about it. 

“Hey, summer school, when do you start? You got all your notebooks and everything?”

“Don’t worry about it, summer school, you go study.”

“Hey, aren’t you still in school? Don’t you have homework?”

Could it be classified as concern? Yeah. Is it? Hell no. 

And then Bruce starts to ask the other interns and scientists for help instead of Peter. Even when Peter knows the answer and he’s the one who’s been developing that prototype and he’s the one who found out that answer in the first place, Bruce will pass him over like he’s not even there and he knows, he knows exactly why. 

And the worst part, the worst part is that Steve and Nat don’t do anything. 

If Clint makes a joke, Nat either tells him to take it easy on him ‘cause he’s just a kid or she doesn’t say anything. And he can see her hiding a smile behind her coffee mug, he’s not an idiot. Or when Bruce passes him over she just shrugs and doesn’t point out that Peter’s the one who brought that issue to their attention in the first place. 

And Steve? Forget it. He barely even reacts. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even look over when Clint teases him, or when Bruce says he doesn’t have to worry about one of his projects, and even when he tries to work up the courage to talk to him, Steve always seems so…busy. 

Peter sits on the edge of his bed, staring at his backpack. His first day is tomorrow. He has his notebooks, he has his loose leaf paper, he has his textbooks and his pencil case and everything. 

His fists clench on the bedcovers. 

Maybe he is stupid. 

He…he shouldn’t need summer school. Ned and MJ don’t need summer school. Even Flash doesn’t need summer school. May thought it was a good idea, was she…is she just being nice? Is this her way of telling him that his grades aren’t good enough to get into college?

He grips the sheets harder. 

…is that why Ned and MJ are still friends with him? Are they—do they think he needs the help? Is that why they insist on doing homework together, are they—maybe they’re trying to get that they tutored one of their fellow peers to write about for college admissions. 

His lip wobbles. 

His teachers did say he’d benefit from doing summer school. 

Peter buries his face in his hands. 

“Mr. Stark is requesting entry to your room,” FRIDAY's quiet voice comes from the ceiling, “should I activate Rainy Day Spider protocol?”

“N-no, he—he can come—come in, FRI.”

“Hey, kid, we just got that new shipment of nanites from the Cali lab, c’mon, we gotta test ‘em out.” 

He should ask someone else. Someone more qualified. Someone smarter. 

“Pete, come on, we’re wasting daylight here.”

No. He can’t. He’s too dumb. He’ll just break them. 

“Pete? Peter?”

Just leave him here. With his stupid summer school backpack and his stupid tears and his stupid, stupid self. 

“Oh, shit.”

There’s a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye and then the bed’s dipping beside him. 

“Spider-ling,” he hears softly, “hey, hey, Spider-ling, c’mere.”

Peter closes his eyes and bows his head and tries to be as small as he can but then warm hands are turning him to a cotton chest and there are fingers carding through his hair. 

“Hey, bambino,” Tony murmurs, “you wanna talk about it?” 

Peter wriggles his head into the crook of his neck and sniffles. 

“No? Not right now?” When Peter shakes his head, he gives him a squeeze. “That’s okay. Can you cry some of this out for me?”

Peter is a stupid kid and he bawls into his mentor’s shoulder like a fucking baby. 

“Shh, shh, there you go,” Tony says softly, rocking him a little bit back and forth, “that’s better. We’re just gonna sit here for a moment, okay, bambino?”

Tony doesn’t call him bambino when he’s upset. He only calls him that when he’s worried. Maybe he won’t be mad if Peter tells him that he’s stupid and he should pick someone else. 

When the sniffles finally trail off, Tony pulls back and gives Peter a tissue box. 

“Now,” he says, still soft and careful as Peter blows his nose with a desolate honk, “why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Peter sniffles. “‘M stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you this upset, baby.”

“No,” Peter says insistently, “I’m stupid. That’s the problem.”

Tony blinks. “You’re not stupid, Peter.”

“I am.”

“Okay,” Tony says slowly, reaching up to cup Peter’s miserable face in his hands, "why don’t you tell me why you think you’re stupid?”

Peter flails in the direction of his backpack. 

“…did you forget something?”

“No. I gotta go to summer school.”

“And you think that makes you stupid?” When Peter nods, Tony tuts and brings him back in for another hug. “That doesn’t make you stupid, Peter.”

“But I shouldn’t need it!” 

Peter wrenches himself away, burying his face in his hands again. 

“I should—shouldn’t need it ‘cause Ned—Ned and MJ don’t need it and no one else needs it and I—and I—and I should be able to do it just fine but I—but—but—“

“Shh, easy, bambino,” Tony soothes, tugging his hands away from his face, “you and I both know that being smart or stupid has nothing to do with how you do in school.”

“…it doesn’t?”

“Look, most formalized education is designed to get kids used to the capitalist workforce and how well you fit into that kind of structure.”

Amidst the snot and tears, Peter narrows his eyes at Tony. “You’re a billionaire who runs a company that contributes really heavily to the problems of capitalism, Mr. Stark.”

“…yeah, and as of next quarter, we’re shifting our practice to try and be better about that.”

Peter sniffles. Tony reaches out and rests a hand on his arm. 

“But you know that you’re a smart kid. You do,” he says when Peter tries to interrupt him, “you know you’re a smart kid. And part of that is because you’re willing to work hard to do the things you want to do and learn the things you want to learn.”

“B-but if I’m going to summer school—“

“Where’s the kid that flew into an indignant rage when Ned wasn’t going to be allowed to have extra time on his tests? Where’s the kid that fought for subtitles to be added to all the mandatory in-class videos?” Tony nudges him gently. “Huh?”

Peter twists his hands together and looks down guiltily. 

Tony sighs and lifts his chin back up. “You’re not stupid, Peter, and your worth isn’t determined by whether you’re taking summer school or not. You’re the smartest kid I know and you’re gonna help me as long as you want to, okay?”

“O-okay, Mr. Stark.”

“That’s my bambino.” He opens his arms. “Now c’mere.”

Peter lets Tony wrap him up in another hug, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of coffee and grease. 

“…you should wash your shirts, Mr. Stark.”

Tony lightly tugs his hair. “Shaddup, kid.”

“You shaddup.”

Voices come from the hall and Peter peeks over Tony’s shoulder just in time to see Sam and Rhodey pause by the door. Their conversation tapers off as Sam waves a little. 

“Hey, Pete,” he says, “you guys need a minute?”

Peter shakes his head, sitting up a little. “You can come in if you want.”

Sam nods and they come in, Rhodey leaning against the wall by the door and Sam taking a seat on the bed next to them. 

“You doing okay?”

“Mhm.”

Sam glances at Tony. “You want us to help support you or do you want a distraction?”

Peter rubs his nose. “Support would be nice.”

“Okay. Would talking about it help?”

Here goes nothing. Peter sits up and turns to face Sam, his hands clenched in his lap. “I’m going to summer school.”

Sam just nods. “Cool. My nephews are doing the same.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. Sarah called me about it, had me help figure their schedules out and everything.”

“I didn’t know you had nephews.”

“Really?” Peter shakes his head. “I should introduce you. They’re real smart kids too, you guys would get along great.”

Peter nods. “What, um, what are they studying over the summer?”

“They’re doing the core curriculums that they don’t wanna do during the school year.” Sam waves his hand. “Health class, gym requirements, that kind of stuff. Sarah told me they said they wanted to make sure they had enough time to focus on ‘the good stuff’—their words, not mine—during the school year.”

Peter blinks. And blinks again. 

“That…that’s what I’m doing too.”

“Oh, really? That’s cool.” 

“Yeah,” Peter says, smiling a little, “yeah, that…that’s cool.”

Sam smiles too, gently nudging Peter’s leg with his. “You look a little better, kid.”

“Y-yeah. I, um, I think I feel better too.”

“That’s good.”

Rhodey glances at the backpack. “When do you start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Then we’d better get you to eat. C’mon,” he says, gesturing them out into the hall, “Mama Rhodes said the meal before your first day is the most important dinner of your life.”

“That’s what my titi said too.” 

“I can’t cook like my mama can—“

“No, you cannot.”

“Shut up, Tony, you still burn water.”

“Wait, he does what?”

“Shh, shh, you didn’t hear anything. FRIDAY, let it be known that I do not burn water on the stove.”

“I don’t know, boss, there’s some footage that would stand opposed to that record.”

“FRIDAY, I’m gonna need you to send all of that footage to my phone,” Sam says, “thank you.”

“Sending, sir.”

Peter giggles as Tony and Rhodey keep bickering all the way to the kitchen. But as they get closer, he can hear the voices of the others, and the smile drops. 

“Hey,” Rhodey says, elbowing him, “what happened?”

“Nothing.”

Of course, all three of them stop and look at him. 

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, squirming a bit under the attention, “it’s just—“

“Hey, where’s the kid? Aren’t kids supposed to eat before they go to school?”

Peter isn’t quite quick enough to disguise his flinch and all three of them see it. Tony’s face darkens and he turns to stomp into the living room when Rhodey catches him and shakes his head. 

“Come on,” Sam says, “let’s get you fed. You still up for pasta tonight? I think Steve’s cooking.”

Steve’s pasta is really good. But also…

“Yeah, sure.”

They walk into the kitchen and Clint throws up his hands. “Summer school! You made it!”

“You’re going to summer school?” 

Oh great, Thor’s here. “Yeah, I’m going to summer school.”

“Is this unusual?” Thor pats the seat next to him. “You sound like you’re not used to it.”

“I’ve, uh, I haven’t gone before.”

“Ah, I see. Here, have some salad.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you learning new subjects?” Thor sets the salad bowl down and takes the big dish of pasta. “Is that why you’re going for extra schooling?”

“N-no, not really. Oh, here,” he says as Thor makes to put some pasta on his plate too, “thanks. No, I’m, uh, you have to take a certain number of mandatory classes your senior year but I’m gonna go and get them out of the way so I can focus on the fun ones throughout the rest of the year.”

“Ah, a clever solution. I presume the ones you’re getting over with are boring and uninteresting?”

“Yeah. Health class, gym, that one weird music one they make us all take for two weeks.”

Thor nods, passing off the pasta. “But that means you will not be in school all summer, then? It will be shorter?”

“Yeah. Just ‘cause I’m doing the mandatory ones. It’ll be like…three weeks at the most?”

“And you’ll probably finish in less time than that?”

“…it’s likely, yeah.”

“Well, then.” Thor grins at him. “You must come to Asgard after you’ve finished. There are some electives there that I think you would greatly enjoy.”

Peter grins. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds like fun. I mean I’d have to ask Aunt May, of course—“

“Naturally.”

“—and maybe, could Ned and MJ come too? They’re both really smart and they, um—“

“Yes, of course. The more the merrier.” Thor places a roll of bread on his plate. “Now enough talk. Eat! You’ll need your wits about you.”

Peter happily tucks into his plate, oblivious to the glares Tony is giving the rest of the team and the slightly guilty looks on their faces. He’s also oblivious to the fact that Tony lingers behind when Sam, Rhodey, and Thor all take him out for ice cream after dinner. 

“So,” he says as he turns to a very shifty Clint Barton, “you wanna explain why you were making fun of Peter?”

“It wasn’t just him,” Bruce admits, “I…was also not very…decent.”

“You, Bruce? I’m surprised. And disappointed.”

“Bruce wasn’t as bad as I was,” Clint says, “I…yeah, I owe the kid an apology.”

“We do too,” Natasha says as Steve nods, “we didn’t exactly stop you too.”

“Nor did we let Peter explain.” Steve scrubs a hand over his face. “Damn.”

“So are you all gonna accept your fates and sit down?”

Clint makes a face but sits. Natasha sits next to him and folds her hands politely in her lap. Bruce sits in the chair and takes his glasses off, folding them and putting them in his pocket. Steve sits too and nods. 

Tony claps his hands. “Perfect. Now, let’s talk about how not to be dicks about someone going to summer school.”

When Peter comes back to an apologetic team and one of the best Steve hugs he’s had in a while, Tony nods to himself and discreetly high-fives Thor. 

“Thanks, Point Break.”

“Anytime, Stark.”

“Were you serious about the electives on Asgard?”

“Absolutely. The little spider would excel in some of their classes.”

“…and his friends, they can come too?”

“Of course.”

“…what about me?”

“Let’s not get carried away.”

[derschwarzeengel]

Of Hyperspace and Bootlegs

Ficlet written by @cocoademon feat. self-inserts of the ficauthor and L-mun.

The older you get, the harder it is to tell someone's age by their height alone. I remember being in elementary school, noticing the kids of adult height who, in retrospect, had to be starting puberty. But my friend and I are within an inch of each other at most, despite the five years between our dates of birth. The kid part of my mind insists that as the older person, I should be driving her to this concert, but the fact that I can't drive baffles it. She drives, I pay.

More surprising is that how in spite of the two time zones between us, she set off to my house within minutes of messaging me. She had her car go through hyperspace, which is normally too cumbersome to use, but it actually makes sense when you're driving from Colorado to Michigan to pick up your friend to go to a concert in Detroit. The Sons of the Dark are a Neue Deutsche Härte band, which is basically dark German rock. They were touring across the US—a rare event, said my friend—and had decided to touch down in the Aretha Franklin Amphitheater.

I'm wearing a comfortable Hawaiian shirt with Charizards on it, which—this is important—has a breast pocket big enough for my phone. The night before, I remembered a trick I wanted to try. After giving my phone's storage a good cleaning (laboriously moving screenshots and other pictures to my desktop computer), I had reclaimed enough space to store a recording of the concert.

Shortly before the concert began, I pressed the record button in the app and slid my phone into my pocket. I was a little nervous (fearing that the app would record my heartbeat almost got me into a nasty loop), but it wasn't long before I relaxed enough to enjoy the concert (while trying to keep silent, which my Wiccan friend would appreciate).

The Sons played their last song, then the final encore, then the crowd began to spill out into the night. Me and my friend were on our way out when I got a tap on the shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

I turned around, but it felt more like doing a backflip, I was so dizzy. To my surprise, it was the frontman of the band, a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed German fellow. He looked wary, but I didn't want to escalate a bad situation by freaking out.

"Yes? Are you going to give my friend an autograph?" I asked.

"You were recording us, weren't you?"

Oh, shit. My heartbeat started pounding in my stomach, all other noises seemed to be muffled, and my teeth chattered, so it would've been obviously dishonest to say anything other than "Yes."

He gave me what looked like a sigh, made some sort of gesture with his fingers, and touched my temple. Instantly, I felt calmer—my stomach jumped up and spiked my anxiety again, but it also dissolved.

"All right, it looks like you didn't know, but we're very strict about no recordings for a reason."

"I didn't know." I looked to my friend. "You never told me about this policy, but I never asked, so I hold you blameless." I began to babble to the frontman. "This is my fault, a spur of the moment plan, in the spirit of the Library of Alexandria. Blessed are the bootleggers, for they shall preserve history—”

He did the calming trick again, and then again, and then once to my friend.

"I'll tell you why, but if you tell anyone else, this is on your heads. Me and my bandmates are immortals. Magical immortals." I must've made an incredulous face. "I know that look, it's one I'm glad to see. I'm not lying, but we want to make sure that as many people as possible react the way you do. It makes life easier for us."

"I know the value of keeping your mouth shut to make life less complicated," I said honestly. "I can't imagine you want to be cut up by the US government, or any government for that matter. Masquerades exist for good reasons."

He nodded tersely. "Good, you understand. But you must swear on your life, that you will not release that recording to the public, are we understood?"

"Yes, I want to respect your privacy, and your right to be forgotten. I leave you alive, you leave me alive. But I want to share this recording with my friend." This is a situation where I'd rather ask for permission than forgiveness.

"That's acceptable. Good night."

"Good night and thank you."

"Bitte."

Some time later, I got a LinkedIn offer for a wonderful WFH-forever job in my field of choice from some company called Ex Nihilo. The message at the bottom made it stand out:

"Thank you for your discretion, Bootleg Head. —Damon W."

I messaged back:

"If my evil empire lets me go, I'll happily join this one."

[chibitabathasloves]

i think when it comes to learning a language it's better to learn smth fun than smth u "should" i never was able to get into spanish. and theres no real reason for me to learn lithuanian but its fun ! gl w danish !!

if you do end up reading the books i'll have to warn you of p much every trigger warning on earth ? thomas harris managed to trigger me on things i didn't even know could be a problem. so be safe out there. i haven't watched SOTL in a way that matters so i can't say anything about it (i know) or hannibal rising for that matter (havent even read the book version of that) but manhunter is also another hannibal i love ! he's in it for 8 minutes though. up to you if thats worth it. feed the book notes ! :) also i wouldnt be able to judge u for ur handwriting ! i have severe dysgraphia so i understand how it is sometimes. i can't promise id be able to read it though. (also unrelated and a bit late but if you want to share the italian will/hanna nicknames i think i'd love that knowledge)

my favorite part about NBC lecter is definitely his self control. his need for control actually. and to me the most important part about lecter is his survivability. that's why to me its always funny to think "oh old man needs his fancy silk and fine dinners, he'd crumble like feta if he didn't have them" but if this turns into serious analysis of his character then its glossing over the fact that hannibal lecter has reached almost perfect ataraxia ? like, he has perfect control at all times. he has control over the situation (his constant manipulation and schemes) but if the situation slips from him (getting tied up christ style and slashed at the wrists, getting kidnapped and tied up in the stables), then it doesn't matter, he still has control. because... he doesn't care ! hannibal doesn't lose his shit pulling his hair out crying screaming if his plans don't go according to plan because he's reached perfect control over his emotions. therefore he doesn't care if things go wrong, it's just another interesting thing happening in his life. if he doesn't allow himself to feel upset, if he doesn't allow himself to freak out over the loss of control, then he's never lost control in the first place, he can't get traumatized, and it's like nothing bad happened. that's why i think any upset he might have felt over the assassination attempt was played up/acted out so he could lure alana (who is attracted to pathetic men in need of fixing like a moth to the light). thats also why i think hannibal couldn't have suffered THAT much from being in jail for three years because... idk like sure it cost him something, it cost him his freedom and everything. freedom from murder. but the fact he gave it up willingly is so much more important to who hannibal lecter is - someone who will never be in a traumatic situation ever again and never get hurt again - than any luxury he might have had when he was free and has now lost. i think in comparison the s2 finale was more of a loss of control albeit partial and i think it affected him more negatively. what are ur thoughts

Okay, so I actually have my notes out, because I am an absolute little gremlin. And you're right about the sense of control over his emotions. When he had a noose around his neck he was still cracking jokes. And you're also right about playing up the trauma. If you watch him with Jack, he has his regular collar, buttoned all the way up with a tie. With Alana he wears the shirts open with a scarf to cover up the bruises that may or may not still be there. He acts like the idea of having something constricting around his neck is unappealing, but still steps into his tailored suits and ties a scarf around his neck anyways. Its a very shallow and easily seen through disguise (bruises from a noose would be much high up his neck).

When he was in the straight jacket at the pig pen he only had eyes for Will. Understanding that despite the fact that Will could easily dispose of him, it is still not the reckoning he was promised. So its only a matter of time until that happens. Its part of the reason I think he ledt Will unconscious while abducting Mason. A lot of season 2 is about the pull between Will and Hannibal I think.

The culmination of that tug of war leads to the first time that Hannibal is let down. It was a loss of control over his emotions, after all, one cannot help with who they fall in love with. He thought that Will would join his side, or kill him. Instead he had to deal with Jack Crawford in his kitchen. Hannibal smelled the betrayal on Will’s skin and gave him a choice. But what Hannibal couldn't see was Will trying to sort out his affairs, asking Freddie to not write about Abigail, to only write about him. I think Will was getting ready to leave with him, but unfortunately due to Jack it was taken from him in the form of a knife wound. Gutting him in the literal sense compared to the emotional gutting Hannibal received.

I think the second time he is let down is around the time that Will decides that he doesn't want to know where Hannibal is. Will went to forgive Hannibal, to see if he could love him, even if he wasn't aware of the love he carried just yet. And he was met with a bone saw and the promise of having his brain eaten. Will had enough, but Hannibal thought they could move on from it. I think that Hannibal knew that despite the fact that Will said he was cutting ties, that he didn't mean it. It's really hard to tell, but Will isn't making eye contact. And I think that's really telling.

I think that part of the reason that Hannibal gives himself up in front of Will is to show that he doesn't need all the trappings, just Will's regard. Its a cheap shot, but it clearly works. He seems to grow into his ability to roll with how his love for Will makes him feel. Reveling in the unpredictable nature of it and the man who causes it. I do believe Hannibal when he said he has found Will in his mind palace, victorious. Even if its just a shade of the man he desires. Which is why I agree that the S2 finale was much more rife with trauma for them both.

I am going to stop rambling now before this turns into a dissertation oh my god

[floating-in-the-blue]

🤡🛒 and 🧠(for Willie)

Thank you so much for these questions, hunny!!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Okay, I randomly grabbed this one out of Purrfect Love because I love it:

“Oh shit. Uhm …,” Willie sat the kitten down on the path and crouched in front of it. “Can you show me where he is?”

One meow. And then the kitten came up to him and headbutted him again.

Willie wasn’t sure what that was about but he grabbed the kitten and sat it back on the path so it was looking at him once more.

Just Willie being all worried about Alex and trying to get the kitten who magically understands him to show him where Alex is and Alex who is the kitten trying to make him understand that he is the kitten by headbutting him. And Willie just totally not understanding it. You can just imagine how frustrated Alex would be by that (among the worry and fear and confusion and everything else).

Idk, I just like the headbutting Alex!kitten ;D

And that scene of course leads to the hot dog wrapper bit which I'm still very proud of ^^

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

That ... is a really good question. But trying to think of things is surprisingly hard. I guess 'acceptance and love despite the flaws' is a theme that carries through but that's hardly original in fanfic.

Uhm ... a certain amount of attempted realism to counter the fluff or smut? Like, slightly awkward moments or phrases? I don't know though. That's more something my characters come up with on their own than me consciously putting it in there ...

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

I don't know if it's really a headcanon rather than just character analysis but I believe Willie takes things easily and doesn't think too much about things and ignores things he doesn't want to think about (like Caleb clearly having the power to do evil things) because he just wants to chill and vibe and have a good time.

He shies away if things get too serious and the moment he realises that his felings for Alex run a lot deeper than he initially planned on, he freaks out because it scares him. I mean, he would do anything for that guy. That's scary stuff tbh. And he'd rather run away than properly face it.

And I really like the way Alex is kind of the opposite. Like he's excited but still a little unsure and 'wired tight' in the beginning where Willie is completely at ease but once things get more serious, Alex is the one who's suddenly sure and confident.

Okay ... who's surprised this suddenly turned into a willex thing? Nobody? Yeah ... that seems right XD

I can tell you a proper headcanon for the Willie in my Star Trek AU In Your Starlight however, which is that he can't paint for shit and all the pictures hanging throughout his ship were actually done by his mom ;D

Ask Me Things