#very few things ruffle his feathers hes a very easy going guy but the frustration in his voice was PALPABLE lmao

[paulnewmanlover]

god bless my extremely patient and supportive friend who was watching me play hollow knight and going absolutely insane as I failed at walljumping for almost 2 hours straight

[solomonish]

selfless (to a fault?) [demon brothers]

CW: allusions to past toxic relationships. minor description of injury in beel’s. belphie’s is a bit sad (happy ending! just melancholic vibes) and alludes to chapter 16.

no problem nonnie! i hope this is to your liking <3

nowdateables: here!

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Lucifer

Honestly, he'd be a tough one to get to allow you to do anything for him. You know, the whole avatar of pride thing….and he also just generally has a habit of holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. He thinks - no, he knows he can handle everything on his own

If he's letting you in enough to help him - not only trusting you enough to think the tasks he delegates to you will be done to his liking, but allowing you to help and opening up the possibility that he might be risking his image of perfection - he can only expect you'll let him do the same for you. It's like your own special love language, right?

He does NOT like how jumpy you are about the subject. At first, he's miffed. Do you not think he can do the task to your liking? Has he given off the false impression that he cannot take any more work than he already has? Was your offer to help not based on affection, but pity??? It really ruffles his feathers.

He's the type to confront you head-on. At first, his voice is harsh because he's talked himself into thinking you've offended him, but when you start backing away and trying to dodge the conversation, apologies falling from your mouth about how the last thing you wanted to do was upset him, he softens. He doesn’t understand yet, but something is upsetting you and he intends to get to the bottom of it.

Not one who would pester you about opening up to him, but the sooner you do, the more of a show of good faith it is. He’ll trust your word entirely regardless, but it does a lot to soothe the upset of his own creation if you come back to explain sooner rather than later. After all, being vulnerable is perhaps Lucifer’s greatest show of love - it does not go unnoticed when you do the same.

Doing his best to talk through a solution is act of kindness #1 - and it helps you adjust a little since you worked with him rather than completely handed him the reins. He starts off his own plan to help you out by bringing in things he was already going to do for himself - offering you coffee when he gets his own, for example. He uses the fact that you’d feel bad for refusing against you for a little bit, but he means well!

You might notice him going softer on you for just a little bit - don’t say anything about it. He’s worried that he gave off the impression of using things against you because of how much of a disciplinarian he is. Besides, the two of you normally don’t get into arguments (he doesn’t have the time to let things simmer - if he’s that upset about something, he’ll try to address it immediately), so he doesn’t really know how else to change his behavior. He just hopes that allowing you the opportunity to open up to him again, should you need it, will alleviate the feeling that he’d ever use your kindness against you.

Mammon

The first time you stiffened up after he tried to help you, he thought you were crazy. Lucifer had just given you a punishment for one of his schemes that you took the fall for (and he still isn’t sure why Lucifer let you take the fall when it was obviously Not You), and you insisted that you could do it by yourself! He wasn’t too keen on cleaning every window in the House of Lamentation himself, so he left soon after placing the offer, but his time was spent mindlessly wondering about you.

The next time was shortly after, when you came into his room and crashed on his bed. He offered you a hand massage, although he did it in a very muttered voice with dark cheeks - and you said no again! Forget being offended that the romantic hand-holding idea he totally didn’t get from a magazine he was reading waiting for you (that would’ve somehow ended in disaster anyway) wouldn’t play out - he was getting worried.

He doesn’t bring anything up immediately, but he worries about you and watches you intently. Sometimes you’ll catch him staring at you, and he flips out when you ask him what’s up. The only clue Mammon gathers is that you don’t seem to be angry with him, so what’s up? He’s used to his backwards advances working against him, but he’s making a genuine effort here!

He finally gets pent up in his frustration and asks you head-on. Mammon isn’t known for his tact - “Oi, why won’t you just let me take over once in a while? Cut yerself a break, MC!” - but there’s a certain...desperate tinge to his voice that makes you realize he really does care (and is driving himself crazy trying to figure things out on his own). When you DO finally tell him, he sort of deflates and his voice goes to that softer, more genuine tone.

“H-hey, I would never do that kind of thing to ya…” He starts shuffling in place, kicking at rocks (if there are any) and you realize he kinda looks like a kid. “You do so much for everyone, and it makes me feel real good inside. I just wanna make you feel that, too. Besides, we don’t need TWO cranky workaholics in the house. Lucifer is plenty.”

He knows one moment of honesty isn’t going to fix your entire way of thinking, but he goes right back to his blatant offers after that. Maybe if he desensitizes you to it, you’ll feel less weird about accepting his help! It doesn’t work, so he shifts to little things. Catch him running across classrooms as soon as you’re dismissed so he can grab your textbooks to carry for you off the desk before you can. 

Once he realizes you’re more receptive to him helping you, he’s ready to breathe a sigh of relief and be annoying about it again. Generosity doesn’t come easy to him, okay? Besides, he’s The Great Mammon! You should’ve known he’d be better than any other guy you’ve been with!

Leviathan

Of COURSE you wouldn’t want someone like him to help you out. He’d probably mess it up, anyway…

Seriously, Leviathan is very sensitive to rejection, so the moment you politely decline any offers to help he backs up about a thousand miles and sulks when you’re not around. It’s hard for him to get out of his own head, and he’s so ready for you to just tell him what everybody else is thinking and how much he sucks…

It dawns on him, though, that you never gave up on him when he pushed you away. It’s totally not poggers sucky of him to just give up on you like that. You’re his henry! You’re his s/o! He’s totally ready to fight any boss for you!! …..after he levels up a little more.

Levi spends a TON of time looking up ways to talk to you, one-on-one. He isn’t good with emotions like this but he is capable of them and having deep, serious talks. It shouldn’t MATTER that his research material is a bunch of feel-good romance anime scenes that he based his most recent Top 10 OTPs of the season post on! 

Surprisingly enough, he brings it up relatively smoothly one night when you’re chilling in his room and he’s playing some relaxing simulator. You’re complaining about the things you have to do in the morning, and when there’s a lull in your conversation Leviathan turns and tentatively asks, “Hey...why don’t you try letting me help you out?” He can feel your refusal before it comes so he hurriedly adds “Please! I just- you stress yourself out so much and what good am I if I can’t even help you at all?”

Is it his impassioned plea for you to let him in? Is it his willingness to obviously step out of his comfort zone? Have your walls just conveniently crumbled at this moment? Whatever it is, you don’t have it in you to reject him when he’s so open about wanting to help you (and the pain it’s caused him not to). Either way, you sigh and give him a few, small tasks that you think you both could manage him having and he swears to do them well!!

Truly opening up to him about the reason why you were so hesitant on letting him help takes a while, and he doesn’t exactly pick up on it himself. Once you do tell him, though, in your journey to help yourself let him in, he holds you a little tighter and mumbles that he’ll never do that to you. Levi knows better than anyone that words can only mean so much, but he’s grateful for the chance to prove it to you. He won’t let his Henry down!

Satan

Satan is perceptive, and he knows how to talk about emotions. He might even have suspicious about the root cause before you even think about letting him know what’s up. He’s already started doing a few things for you - carrying each other’s books, for example. Small acts of kindness to get the both of you through the day.

However, one thing Satan isn’t good with…..is dealing with emotions head-on.

He spends so much time keeping his own under lock and key! After doing his best to keep the most calm, analytical front he can, Satan tends to uh….forget about the emotional part of emotions.

So. When he asks why you won’t let him reciprocate in the relationship, attempting to display that he just wants the two of you to be on equal ground and he is worried about you, he sort of comes off...as cold. And like he’s accusing you of feeling a certain way. He definitely presents it as “I’ve noticed you feel x and i think y would be helpful for us to fix it” rather than “how are you feeling? What is causing you trouble? How can i offer assistance in a way that translates well to you?” And if that doesn’t bring back some memories…

He feels awful, and at the end of it all you’re crying (or presenting your stress and bad memories however you normally do) and he still doesn’t know how to fix things. Counterintuitively, he looks through his books for an answer, and it takes him a few days to realize that’s what got him into this mess.

So he goes to you directly and, albeit a little clumsily, apologizes and asks what he can do to help you through this. You say that’s just the problem - you don’t want his help - and he sits next to you and just asks why? The two of you wind up talking for hours, sitting next to each other and just...really talking. You aren’t the only one feeling vulnerable - Satan is talking about his emotions full-on rather than through a scientific lens and it makes him just as nervous as you are.

Satan doesn’t get into arguments with you. He runs from the possibility because he’s worried about what his wrath could do to you. But he promises you that he could never hold anything against you, especially something like asking him for help. It’s an honor that you let him this close, and he can only return the favor in kind. He hopes you have enough faith to believe in him until he has the opportunity to prove it beyond a doubt.

Asmodeus

Asmo does things for people without asking. He gives unsolicited makeup and relationship advice, he offers to touch-up any products you may have on, he lends you clothes just because he felt like he should…

The thing is, Asmo will start before you even have a chance to ask him to stop. He’ll start before you’re even wondering if you like him. And at first, you’re ok with it. Well, you’re not, but you can decide he’s just testing the waters or that this is some weird demon way to earn your friendship or tell you he considers you a friendly presence, like cats. But it still rubs you the wrong way.

However, Asmo always notices that you...aren’t receiving it the way he wants you to. He invites you out and leaves you an outfit on your bed, and you come out wearing something entirely different. He leaves you a bouquet of flowers, and suddenly the dining room has a new bouquet in the center of it. (and you always avoid his gaze during those dinners, which is totally weird.) It’s almost like you’ve recognized the face he makes when he’s about to touch up your makeup, because you pull out a pocket mirror and check yourself over before he even has a chance to!

Are you leading him on? He doesn’t think so, but you are quite literally the only person he can’t literally charm the pants off of, and he isn’t quite sure how to navigate the signals you’re giving him. You seem fine with the relationship - it felt pretty genuine to him, and you looked thrilled when he made the romantic moves on you - so what was going on?

He finally caves and asks when he’s going through your wardrobe, sifting through it with you on the bed to make room for a shopping spree the two of you had been planning, and sees all the outfits he’d bought you hanging, still in their outfit bags. Some of the bags even had DUST on them!

He turns around and puts on a gentle voice. Though Asmo doesn’t know what’s happening, he can feel the air in the room shift and he knows he’s encroaching on some sensitive territory. “Hey, do you not like when I give you gifts? I haven’t been able to understand what’s been bothering you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

He does NOT like the way you turn your face away from him, but he sits a respectable distance away and keeps his hands in his lap. Asmo is as good at genuine advice as he is at gossip, so it isn’t hard for him to get you comfortable enough to open up to him. You don’t have to tell him everything at once - he’ll listen to whatever you’re willing to tell him, letting you lean against him when you’re ready.

Asmo is known for being petty, but you bring out sides of him nobody knew were there. He’ll swear up and down that he’d never turn your good heart against you - after all, it’s one of the many things he loves about you - but he does understand where you’d get that impression. If you’ll let him prove it to you, he will - and he’ll start by only pestering you to let him buy one outfit for you on that shopping spree!

Beelzebub

Listen. Beel is a generous soul (for a demon) ((to those he really loves)). He just doesn’t ever really find himself in possession of anything worth sharing. Really, the only thing he is ever in the possession of is food. When he isn’t at his sports practice, working out or studying, he’s eating, and he’ll gladly share his food with you.

Oh? You don’t want it? He gives you a confused look - he’d ask if you were feeling well if he hadn’t eaten lunch with you just an hour before - but shrugs, his growling stomach winning over his concern. It’s not like you’re skipping meals, anyway. It isn’t until you get hurt helping him work out and refuse to let him pick you up to carry you to medical attention that he gets VERY concerned.

He feels awful enough as is. It was his fault you were even there - he just wanted to add more weight to his workout. (And, he won’t admit it, the idea of using a bench you were sitting on to lift over his head may have been a bit overkill. But he saw that little spark that said ‘that isn’t possible but man i wish it was’ when you saw it happen in that show and mmmmmmaybe he wanted to impress you. How was he supposed to know Mammon had broken it and left it there?) He could practically feel the pain in your ankle from the sound it made, and you were clutching desperately to your shin, wanting to press on the wound but knowing it was a bad idea. MC, there’s no way you can walk on that, why aren’t you letting him help?

The guilty puppy face he’s giving you is making the whole situation worse. It’s taking everything you can not to snap on, from the overwhelming pain in your ankle to the negative thoughts racing in your head to the knowledge that you’ll have to give in eventually. Finally, you face him head on and decide to just rip the band-aid off. “I don’t have the best experience with letting people do things for me. If you’re expecting to use this against me, I’m going to be out of commission for a while, so remember that.”

He is. So confused. Are you really mad at him? What are you talking about? It’s not that he’s stupid - because really, he isn’t - this just kinda came at him from left field and he does not know what to do about.

“What? I’m worried about you, MC, and there’s no way you can walk on your ankle. Come on, please let me take you to get help. I won’t mention it ever again if that’s what will make you happy.”

So maybe it takes a while to get to the nearest infirmary, and maybe he’s going extra slow so as not to jostle our injury, and maybe in the meantime he’s being so contemplative and quiet that you have a heart-to-heart. Beel’s too genuine not to trust him when he swears he’d NEVER use your kindness against you, but he understands it’ll take a while to show you.

Belphegor

So. Um. This is awkward.

Belphie is a smartass, and he’s the youngest and used to getting his way. He’s definitely the type to dig his heels in and fight dirty in an argument, just because he’s used to winning. He’s also sadistic and has plotted with you to use his brothers’ weaknesses against them for fun. So he gets it. He totally gets why you would think he’d do it. Honestly, that’s basically what he did to free himself from the attic, only with more violence involved. He gets it.

Since Belphegor hasn’t exactly been the nicest to you in the past, he isn’t about to make you pity him with words like “yeah, of course you wouldn’t trust me after what I did to you…” First of all, on the off chance that it’s completely unrelated, he doesn’t want to put that idea in your head and give you a resentment you never had, but also he’s getting a hang of this redemption thing. Yes, on an average day he’s still a bratty, selfish little shit, but he does show you how sorry he is for using you and hurting you. It shows in the way he checks up on you in situations he knows you’re uncomfortable in, in the way he cares for you in that gentle way that’s so subtle you wonder if he’s even actively doing anything. (He is - offering you the best spot in a blanket nest, suggesting your favorite meals when the brother on dinner duty needs ideas, little things - and you both know it.) But how does he repent for something he doesn’t even know if he’s doing?

The way you stop cold when you peek in the kitchen and see him (and Beel) cooking the dinner you just complained about wanting hurts. The two of you have a stare-off for a moment, and Beel gets the message to slide out of the room. Belphegor clears his throat.

“What do you want?” You ask with narrowed eyes. Ouch, way to be a Lucifer. He instead says, “Nothing. I just wanted to do something nice for you.” “And you don’t want anything in return?” “Have I given off the impression that I would?”

You sigh and step into the kitchen to wash your hands, asking if he needs help since Beel left. He grabs your wrist. “You’re welcome to keep me company, but I want to do this for you.”

He doesn’t like you looking at him distrustfully, but is relieved you sit at the counter instead of leaving. He wants to ask you what’s up, but something is stopping him - he ignores that what’s stopping him is fear that you’ll have another thing to add onto the list of the unforgivable sins he’s committed. If you feel like telling him, he’ll listen - but until then, he’ll go back to quietly trying to prove his worth to you, hoping one day you’ll see that it’s genuine and let him give you all the good things you deserve.

[hearts-hunger]

in the darkness with the radio playing low || frankie morales x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: When your move into your first house as Mr. and Mrs. Morales is interrupted by a thunderstorm and power outage, you and Frankie remind each other that even an empty house can be home if you’re together.

Pairings: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: a scene and significant discussion of PTSD

A/N: I’m pretty proud of this one. It’s the pièce de résistance of my collected works in terms of hurt/comfort. Please be aware that PTSD plays a major part in the plot; take care of yourselves and stay safe. That said, I think the fluff and tenderness and romance more than makes up for it. Let me know what you think! ♡

“Well, that’s just great.”

You stood with your hands on your hips as your husband came in with an armful of boxes, soaking wet from the downpour that had started without any warning. He looked a little apologetic, as if he disliked being the bearer of bad news, but he couldn’t have done any more to predict it than you could.

“The forecast said cloudy,” you said, frustrated enough that you weren’t paying attention to where he was headed with the boxes and had to quickly move out of his way. “Sorry.”

“‘S ok.” He set the boxes on the kitchen counter with a huff and took his ball cap off to shake some of the water from it. “Is there anything else you want me to try and get?”

You looked out the front door that was still wide open, feeling a wave of discouragement at the torrential downpour that made the distance from the door to the covered bed of Frankie’s truck seem insurmountable.

“I guess not,” you said tiredly. Anything you tried to get would be soaked through by the time it got inside.

Frankie came over to you, and you fell into his comforting bear hug despite how damp his overshirt was. You put your arms around his neck and sighed.

“Not how I envisioned this night going,” you said. You had spent countless hours planning your move into your first house as Mr. and Mrs. Morales, and this had definitely not been on the agenda. Santi, Will, and Ben had helped you pack up into the moving truck earlier in the day, and they were coming bright and early tomorrow to help you move everything in. Your first night was supposed to be you and Frankie and everything you could move in without the boys’ help - not just the three boxes of kitchen things, two lamps, and one set of bedding you’d brought in before it started raining.

Frankie hugged you tighter. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I know how it gets your feathers in a ruffle when things don’t go to plan.”

He wasn’t being unkind; he really did hate it when things didn’t go to plan for you. Though he was very nearly unflappable in any situation, your anxiety tended to get the better of you in overwhelming situations like this one. You tried to make yourself relax, and being held by your husband made it much easier to do than it would have been otherwise.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, as much to yourself as to him. “We’ll just... camp out. It’ll be an adventure.”

Frankie gave you a sweet smile and kissed your forehead. “Proud of you, baby.” He let you go to fish out a dry overshirt from the duffle bag of clothes you’d grabbed, and you basked in the glow of his compliment.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” you said, trying to have a positive outlook. “Instead of trying to move in furniture tomorrow when we don’t really have a feel for the space, we can - ”

A huge clap of thunder made both of you jump, and a second later you were plunged into darkness as your power went out. You couldn’t decide if panic or frustration was a more appropriate reaction.

“Frankie?” you called. An unfamiliar, pitch-black house wasn’t doing much for your anxiety.

“Right here, honey,” he soothed, his hand meeting yours in the darkness. As your eyes adjusted, you kept a tight hold on him, and almost felt a little hurt at the amused look on his face.

“What did you do to make the universe so mad at you?” he asked.

You gave him a shove, but your heart wasn’t in it. “It’s not funny.”

He chuckled. “It’s a little bit funny, baby.” He ran his thumb over your knuckles. “You just can’t catch a break, can you?”

“Apparently not,” you grumbled. All your positivity had faded with this most recent development. “Now we can’t even look at the places we can’t put things.”

He nosed at your jaw, giving you gentle kisses all over your face. “My poor baby,” he said, but he wasn’t making fun. “How can I help?”

You were quite enjoying his attention at the moment. “You’re doing a pretty good job right now.”

He breathed a laugh against your skin. “I thought I might be.”

You let him comfort you, and for a little bit, with his big hands holding you close to him and his scruff against your cheek with every kiss, you didn’t even mind the rain or the loss of power. 

Then, something occurred to you. You gave his shoulder an excited slap.

“Hey!” he protested, though you knew you hadn’t hurt him. Frankie Morales was built of sterner stuff than that.

“I bet you didn’t know your wife was the smartest woman in the whole world,” you said, disentangling yourself from him even though you would have liked to stay right where you were.

Frankie watched as you went rummaging through the boxes marked for the kitchen, using your phone as a light. 

“Sure I did,” he said. “But remind me why you’re the smartest woman in the whole world, and why I suddenly can’t kiss you because of it.”

You grinned as you held your prize aloft for him to see. “Because I put the emergency candles back where they’re supposed to go before we packed everything up.”

His smile was amused as he watched you open the pack of six white candles that would burn for nine hours apiece, plenty of time for the storm to wind down and the power to come back on. You put a few on the counter, along with one in your bedroom and the en suite, and he lit them with the lighter he always kept in his pocket. Before long, the house that had seemed bare and frightening took on a warm and cosy glow.

“Kinda romantic,” Frankie said, pulling you close again. The whole “moving into your first home” thing had him feeling very tender and sentimental recently, and you didn’t mind how keen to cuddle it seemed to make him.

You were happy with your candles, though, and in a much better mood about how the night was going; you had a whole house to explore, and you had your husband to enjoy it with.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said, running your fingers through his hair.

“What’s that?”

You smiled against his mouth. “You can romance me all you want, but - ” You pulled away and gave him a mischievous grin. “You have to catch me first!”

His smile was fondly exasperated as you went around to the other side of the counter, but he soon got into the game and chased you around the living room. The kitchen counter was your only means of defense, and once you were clear of it, you were no match for his size and speed. You broke into helpless giggles as he caught you by the waist and tickled you until you begged him to stop.

“Ok, ok, you win,” you laughed, breathless between kisses. “I didn’t think that one through, what with all your secret Delta force skills.”

He hummed in agreement. “That’s why I spent all those years training,” he said. “Just so I could catch you.”

You thought of another game. “Ok, how about this?”

He laughed. “What else do I have to do before I can kiss you, woman?”

You gave him an impish smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” You gave him one last kiss to tide him over before you pulled back from him. 

“I’m gonna go hide, and if you can find me, I’m all yours.”

He grinned. “It’s not a big house, cariño. Does this plan of yours involve me finding you in less than a minute?”

“Wouldn’t you be the lucky guy, getting me into bed that quickly?”

He gave you a cocky smile. “Lucky? Oh no, honey. You should know better than anyone that I don’t need luck.”

You grinned. “Shut up.” You directed him to the far corner of the living room, where he obliged you and closed his eyes while he counted to fifty.

“Now, where to hide?” you said to yourself, using your phone as a light as you went through the rest of the house. You’d toured it a handful of times before you’d decided on it, but you didn’t know all the ins and outs. Down the hall from the living room and kitchen were a guest bedroom and bathroom, the master bedroom with an en suite, and an office space that Frankie had confidently said would be perfect for a nursery. You wanted to have kids too, but you figured it would be best to settle in a little before you started painting the walls a cheery baby color.

You decided on the walk-in shower in the en suite - a little predictable, but you’d put three doors between you and Frankie’s undoubtedly quick search of the house, and maybe he’d like to stay put and have shower sex by candlelight. You listened as he counted, his warm voice filling the house despite the sound of rain pouring outside.

“Ready or not, here I come,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You thought you heard him go into the guest bedroom first, then maybe to the closet in there. You felt a strange sort of anticipation - it was only Frankie, after all, and the consequences of being found were something you were looking forward to. You heard the door to the guest bedroom close and waited for him to cross the hall into the master.

“Where are you?” His voice was closer, so he must have been in your bedroom.

You rolled your eyes, smiling a little. You wouldn’t make it that easy on him. You heard the closet door open and shut.

“No, really,” he said, and his voice was so startlingly different that a thrill of panic shot through you. You could count on one hand the times you’d heard his voice like that, and none of them were happy memories.

“Please come out,” he almost begged, his voice tight and strained and trying so hard not to be. You almost took the sliding shower door off the track in your haste to get out.

“Frankie, hold on,” you said, trying to make your voice carry. You practically ran through to the bedroom, dreading what you might find; as soon as you saw him, you felt a wash of guilt so profound it nearly took your breath away.

In the dim light of the candle flickering on the window sill, you saw he had one hand on the wall, leaning heavily against it; his other hand was tucked under the collar of his t-shirt, running his fingers over his collarbone to self-soothe. He looked frustrated and panicked, and his gaze was unfocused as he looked at you.

“Oh, Frankie,” you said, feeling like your heart had been torn right out of your chest. You started to move towards him and hesitated; you didn’t know if it would make it better or worse for you to be near.

He took his hand from his chest and reached out to you; you took his hand immediately and put your other arm around his neck. He buried his face in your shoulder and put his free hand on your back, crumpling the fabric of your shirt in his grip.

“You’re ok,” he breathed, and the relief in his voice was almost worse than the fear.

“Of course I’m ok,” you said, pulling him closer, trying to get a hold of your own unease. “You’re ok too, Frankie. You’re safe. I’m here.”

His shoulders hitched unevenly as he drew a shaky breath. “Sorry,” he managed, and even with that one word, you could hear how upset and guilty he felt. You held him tighter.

“No, baby,” you said. You ran your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. “Frankie, it’s ok. You don’t have to apologize.”

Looking for you, hunting for you through a dark house - it had been enough to make you feel a little on edge, and you couldn’t imagine what it had triggered in him. You felt how unsteady he was as he held onto you like you were the only thing tethering him; you felt your eyes sting with tears.

“It’s my fault,” you said. “I can’t believe I was that stupid. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

You felt him stiffen; he pulled back from you, still keeping you close but meeting your eyes with a clarity you couldn’t mistake.

“No,” he said firmly. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t know any better, and I - ” His breath caught a little. “Christ. You shouldn’t have to.”

He released you, stepping back as bitterness and anger flashed across his face. You didn’t know how to help; you gave him space, wishing you could think of some way to comfort him. 

“I don’t want you always worried about something like this,” he said, his voice taut with frustration. “I don’t want you thinking you have to plan everything so that I don’t lose my mind and start freaking out for no fucking reason.”

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but Frankie was an imposing figure even when he wasn’t agitated. Even though you knew without a doubt he would never hurt you, you still felt yourself unconsciously try to make yourself smaller.

“I'm so fucking messed up that I can’t even - ” He tugged on the brim of his ball cap. “I knew as soon as I started down the goddamn hall that I couldn't handle it. Reminded me of every single fucking hallway I’ve gone down trying to - ”

He cut himself off before he said it, but both of you knew when he meant. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger seeming to give way to something more like grief and guilt and resentment. 

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. He didn’t meet your eyes. 

He tried again. “I wish I wasn’t - ” He shook his head. “Sorry.”

You took a step towards him, but he didn’t let you get close; you tamped down the sting of embarrassment and heartache and wished you knew what to do with your hands. You crossed your arms over your chest and worried the hem of your shirt sleeve.

“I’m gonna go smoke,” he said. Without waiting for a response, he left you in the bedroom; the rain sounded louder as the door opened, briefly filling the house that seemed empty and unforgiving once again.

God, what had you done? Despite what he said, you should have known better - it was cruel and unkind of you not to. You were his wife, for god’s sake - you knew him, inside and out, and it had been foolish and careless of you to not think before you acted. Now, it seemed as clear as day that it had been ill-advised from the beginning, but you had been so caught up in what you wanted and how you felt; you couldn't believe you’d hurt him like that, intentionally or not.

You needed to talk to someone, to ask how to help your husband, to ask if you even could. Your hands shook a little as you pulled up Santi’s number on your phone and prayed he would answer.

He picked up after a few rings. “Hey there, sunshine,” he said, like he always did.

“Santi,” you said, a little hopelessly. He sounded happy to hear from you; you felt like you would start crying any second.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked. Santi had always been able to read his friends like a book, and you were no exception. “Everything ok with the move?”

You gave a helpless shrug. “Yeah, I mean - no, because it’s pouring down rain and we lost power, but that’s not what’s wrong.”

“Okay,” he said. He kept his tone calm, and you couldn’t have been more grateful to him. “Talk to me.”

You took a shaky breath; you glanced towards the front door, that seemingly insurmountable barrier between you and your husband.

“It’s Frankie,” you said, and your eyes filled with tears despite your best efforts. “I think I triggered him - I wasn’t even thinking, it was so stupid, I was just trying to do something fun but he got so upset and I didn’t know what to - ”

“Hold on, hold on,” Santi said, trying to parse your feverish babbling. “Slow down, honey.”

“Sorry,” you said miserably. You swiped at the tears that wouldn’t stop now that they’d started.

“That’s ok,” he said kindly. “Just take a deep breath.” You did as he said. 

“Alright. Now tell me what happened, from the beginning.”

You hid behind your free hand, embarrassed and upset with yourself. Santi was one of your closest friends, but you didn’t even want to admit to him how careless you’d been.

“Hey,” he said, seeming to understand your brief silence. “You can talk to me, you know that. Whatever happened - it’s not unfixable. I promise.”

You nodded, trying to gather your courage and composure.

“The power went out,” you said. “I found some candles for the kitchen, but the rest of the house is dark. I thought it would be fun if - god, it’s so stupid - I thought it would be fun to play hide and seek, you know - I left him to go hide, and he started to look for me, but then he - ”

Your voice caught. “He didn’t say anything, and I thought he was having fun too, but when he couldn’t find me, he - ” You felt sick just thinking about it. “He was so upset, Santi. He said it reminded him of - ”

Like Frankie, you couldn’t make yourself say it, but you knew Santi had figured it out. 

“He was angry,” you said. “I didn’t know how to help him, and I just felt like I made it worse.”

You heard him sigh over the phone, and you tried to make yourself wait for him to speak instead of insisting he answer right away.

“He’s not angry at you,” Santi said. “I know it feels like he is, but he’s angry at - I don’t know, everything else. Himself. He’s not angry at you.”

“He should be,” you insisted. “I should have known better. I mean, I call myself his wife but I can’t even - ” 

You huffed. “It’s my fault, Santi.”

“It’s not,” he said evenly, like he was more convinced of that than anything else. “It’s too many things to be your fault. The shit he’s been through - that’s not on you, and I know he feels that way too.”

You didn’t know if that was true.

“Where is he now?” Santi asked.

“On the front porch. Smoking.”

“Okay. I want to talk to him in a minute, but... I know this scared you as bad as it scared him.”

“It shouldn’t have,” you said, furious with your own incompetence. “I didn’t - I didn’t go through anything like what he went through, and I can’t imagine having to worry about - ”

You ran your hand over your cheek. “I can’t stop fucking crying, even though nothing happened to me, and I can’t even try and help him without botching it.”

“That’s not fair,” he said. “It happened to both of you, and just because you don’t know how to help doesn’t mean you didn’t.”

“Why didn’t he say anything earlier?” you demanded. Your guilt needed something to latch on to, and Frankie was the easiest target for your anger.

“It probably didn’t even occur to him,” Santi said, unperturbed by your outburst. “He probably didn’t even realize until he couldn’t find you that it would trigger him at all. It’s not his fault, and it’s not yours either.”

You felt the fight go out of you; you were left with a heavy, numbing remorse and a worse headache than you’d had in ages. You lifted the collar of your shirt to scrub your face, hiding from everything for a moment behind the fabric.

“Don’t beat yourself up about this,” he said gently. “I know how you get, sunshine.”

You breathed a tired, wobbly laugh. “Yeah.”

“It’s gonna be ok,” he said. “Frankie loves you, and I can tell you without a doubt that the way you love him does help, more than you know. You hear me?”

You took a deep breath. “I hear you.”

“Alright. Can you take the phone to Frankie?”

You almost dreaded the thought - you wanted Frankie to talk to Santi, but you were wary of even putting yourself close to Frankie for fear that you’d do something wrong, make him more upset.

“Sure,” you said. You went out to the front door; your hand hesitated on the knob.

“Hey,” Santi said. “Before you go - I love you, sunshine.”

You smiled. “I love you too, Santi. You’re coming tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there first thing, don’t you worry.”

“Okay,” you said, more to yourself. If things weren’t better by then, Santi and Will and Ben would be here. You and Frankie weren’t in this alone.

“Okay,” you said again. “Here’s Frankie.”

You opened the door and pressed the phone to your chest, muting the sound of the rain on your end for a moment. Frankie was sitting on the railing, a nearly-finished cigarette between the fingers of his right hand; he was rubbing at his collarbone with his free hand, looking out at the rain.

“Frankie,” you said cautiously, trying not to startle him.

He looked over at you like he hadn’t noticed you’d come out. “What?”

You bit your lip and tried to remember what Santi said - Frankie wasn’t angry with you.

You held out the phone to him. “It’s Santi.”

He grimaced, like talking to his best friend was the last thing on earth he wanted to do, and he didn’t much appreciate you making him do it. He put the cigarette out on the heel of his boot and took the phone from you.

“Hello?” he said, tired and exasperated. He ran a hand over his face.

You went back inside to give them a chance to talk privately. Through the window, you could hear the muted tones of Frankie’s voice; they were speaking in Spanish, and you didn’t know enough to try and parse it even if you’d wanted to.

You looked around your small, dismal house; even the warm glow of the candles didn’t seem to make it any more comforting. You stood in the living room for a minute, trying to figure out what to do with yourself. Any other night you would have just gone to bed, wondering if Frankie would climb in next to you or decide to sleep on the couch, but you didn’t have a bed here yet - or a couch, for that matter. You crossed your arms over your chest at the sudden chill you felt and wished things had gone much differently.

You apparently hadn’t had the foresight to pack a sweater in the grab-bag of clothes, and the only thing long-sleeved was one of Frankie’s soft flannel overshirts. Any other time, you wouldn’t have hesitated to wear it, and might have given your husband some ribbing about how it looked better on you than it did on him. You left it in the bag and paced aimlessly, wondering if Santi was having better luck than you at easing some of Frankie’s pain.

Mostly to occupy yourself, you fished a pot out of the box of kitchen things and set water to boil for the stray pack of ramen you’d found with the emergency candles, of all things. If moving had proven anything, it was that your kitchen was in dire need of some organization. You had thought you and Frankie would start on getting your new kitchen set up tonight, but that didn’t seem likely.

The front door opened just as the water began to boil, and you couldn’t help a shiver as the cold, rainy air gusted in before Frankie closed the door behind him. The candles guttered and sent shadows dancing over the walls. Neither of you said anything for a moment, and Frankie put your phone on the counter.

“Are you cold?” he finally asked. His voice was much gentler than it had been earlier, perhaps even a little sheepish. You didn’t know why, but you blushed. 

“A little, I guess,” you said. “The rain is...”

You trailed off, not sure what you had been meaning to say in the first place. You bit your lip and tried to figure out the timer on your new stove.

You heard him rummaging through something, and you almost jumped when you felt him behind you. He put the overshirt you’d wanted earlier over your shoulders, leaving one hand on your arm while the other brushed over your hair very gently.

You suddenly felt like crying again; your throat ached and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay.

He brushed your hair to the side and kissed the back of your neck, feather-light.

“I’m sorry.”

You held your breath, willing yourself not to cry. He kissed your shoulder, and your breath caught like the beginning of a sob.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said, and his voice was so sincere and heartsick that it almost hurt you to hear it. “I know I scared you. I was scared too, and I took it out on you and I shouldn’t have. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He slowly wound his arms around your waist, giving you time to pull away from him; you leaned back against him and felt him relax, like whatever had been pulled tight in him had finally been allowed to loosen. He nuzzled against your neck and breathed you in deeply.

“I love you,” he said. “More than anything. I can’t believe you put up with somebody like me.”

You turned in his arms to face him; he kept his hands on the small of your back and kept you close to him. 

You reached your hand up and touched his face, felt his scruff under your fingers, felt the way his pulse beat right under his jaw. Steady and warm, like he always was.

“I love you,” you said. Your voice was dull with crying and washed in relief. “I love you, Frankie Morales. Every bit of you, no matter what. I wish I knew how to love you better, how to - ”

He kissed you before you could say any more, tender and apologetic and full of love.

“No, sweetheart,” he said. He kissed your nose, your cheeks, your temple. “You’re the only reason I’m not broken in a million pieces, you know? You’re the only thing that keeps me together.”

He leaned his forehead against yours. “I love you. I’m sorry I’m such a screwup.”

“Don’t say that,” you said firmly. You held his face in your hands. “I love you. You are not a screwup. None of this is your fault.”

You kissed him, tenderly, and felt how much he needed it.

“I’m with you no matter what, Frankie,” you promised him, like you had on your wedding day and like you would every time he needed reminding. You smiled a little. “You’re stuck with me now.”

He gave a watery laugh, and the sound was like music. 

“Thank god,” he said, and meant it.

He kissed you, gently, cautiously; you kissed him back and held him close. A few tears fell down your cheeks; you were relieved and happy and so in love with him that you didn’t know what to do with it.

“Hey,” he said softly. “No more crying, pretty girl.”

You reached up to wipe away your tears but he got there first, his big hand cradling your face, his thumb running over your cheek to catch them.

“You alright?” he asked. Wanting to know if you needed more time, if you were still hurt. You put your hand over his and leaned into his touch.

“I missed you,” you said. You weren’t sure it made any sense - after all, you’d been apart only for a little while, and even then, he’d only been outside. But the emotional distance, the worry you felt for him, the hopelessness you’d felt trying to help him - you missed him, and you were glad he was with you again.

He kissed your forehead. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I missed you too.”

You rested in that for a moment, letting it shore up the cracks in your heart; all was forgiven between you, and nothing else needed to be said. You were his, and he was yours, and sometimes it took a little heartache to remind you who held your heart together in the first place.

After a moment, you circled a hand around his wrist. 

“Let’s just... give into the fact that we have no power and we’re in a brand new house that’s kind of creepy in the dark,” you said.

He chuckled. “Okay.”

You sighed. “I know I started it, but we have plenty of time to be a rambunctious, fun-loving couple when we’re not going through a very stressful night. Right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “And later, when we actually have furniture and lamps and everything, I’ll play any kind of game you come up with. As long as it’s not hide and seek.”

You gave a dry laugh. “Yeah. No hide and seek.”

He gave you a chaste kiss. “But for right now, it’s just you and me and a house with no power.”

You nodded, tipping your face up towards his. “Sounds perfect to me.”

He kissed you deeply then, taking his time; when you needed something to brace against, he kept you from leaning back right onto the hot stove and picked you up by the waist to put you on the counter. Your ramen bubbled away as Frankie stood between your knees, his hands on your thighs; you held his face in your hands and kissed him as though you would never get enough of him.

“Your ramen’s about to boil right through our nice sauce pan,” he said after a few minutes. You hadn’t even heard the timer go off.

“Whatever,” you said, breathless. He let you kiss him a few more times. 

“Can I turn it off before we burn the house down, honey?”

You gave an exaggerated sigh. “I guess.”

He let you keep a hold of his hand while he quickly turned off the stove and moved the pot to another burner, and then he was standing in front of you again, looking at you like you’d hung the moon.

“I love you, Mrs. Morales,” he said. “I’m the luckiest guy on earth to be your husband. Even if you do overcook your ramen.”

You breathed a laugh and put your arms around his neck as you leaned close to kiss him again. You tipped his hat back so you could kiss all over his face while his hands roamed over your thighs and waist, tenderly kneading into your skin. 

“Frankie,” you said, breathless from his kisses. 

He hummed against your neck. “What is it, querida?”

You felt your whole body warm as he kissed down your neck, sweet and messy and patient. It was your first night in your first home, and you loved your husband and wanted him deeply.

“Take me to bed,” you said, brushing your fingers through the soft curls that stuck out from under his cap. “Take me to bed or lose me forever.”

You could feel his smile against your skin. “I would, honey, gladly - but you might have noticed we don’t have a bed.”

“Let’s make one,” you said. “I brought in the bedding and blankets and everything - we’ll just be like a couple of pioneers making love on an old bearskin rug.”

He scrunched up his nose and laughed at the thought. “Mm. Musty.”

“Come on,” you said with a laugh. He helped you off the counter and awaited your direction on the bed-making, accepting the pillows and blankets you gave him to hold as you unpacked them. Like you did most mornings when he didn’t leave very early for work, you made your bed together: this time, a warm and comfy pallet on your living room floor.

Like the romantic he was, Frankie put some soft classic rock on his phone; he took you in his arms to slow-dance with you as Bob Seger started to play.

“She was lovely, she was the queen of my nights,” Frankie sang, pulling you close, “there in the darkness with the radio playing low.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the warm sound of his voice and the steady beat of his heart. The rain still poured outside and the candles still cast shadows on the wall, but the storm and the darkness and the emptiness of the house all seemed to fade when you were with him. There in your husband’s arms, warm and safe and loved, you knew this new house you shared with Frankie was already home.

taglist: @punkgeekchic​​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​​

let me know if you want to be added to my pedro pascal characters taglist!

[melwritesbadly]

With Wings in All Black

After a tragic turn of events,  Kazama Kaori , AKA Hex, has her investigation swept out from under her by the #2 Pro Hero. Reluctantly she joins Hawks in the pursuit of justice. On top of trying to solve the biggest case of her career, Kaori is still a young woman struggling to find her place in the world. Life is turned upside down as her professional and personal lives start to blend.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Content Warnings: slight language, implied violence/death

________________________________________________________

Assistance Requested: Information and surveillance details urgently needed regarding reported missing persons. Suspected Vigilante involvement, or other syndicates. Please respond for additional details.

Status of current investigation: Ongoing

__________ 

A Murder of One                        

Hex adjusted the dial on the receiver on her headgear tuning in to the frequency of the microphone planted in the bar below her. She hoped the ungodly amount of paperwork she traded for the device was worth it.  The other detectives at the station simply shrugged at her evidence- or rather, her lack-thereof.

Still it didn’t change the facts.

Fact 1- Low level criminals are disappearing.

Fact 2- People are disappearing

Fact 3- No one cared- but her.

Fact 4- Takei Kenji, one of the missing, had recently been seen in the area and was seemingly ‘not himself’ as described by the anonymous tip that was forwarded to her.

Takei Kenji, age 27. Minor invulnerability quirk. Last known occupation: ‘Nightwatchman’ for a warehouse commonly used for clandestine meetings for the local riff-raff. Reported missing by his mother 3 weeks ago.

After speaking with Mrs. Takei, she pieced together Kenji’s new schedule. After tailing him a few days he truly seemed like a new man, reformed. 

His dress was proper and pristine, clean shaven and hair combed and presentable. It was a stark contrast to the photo used on the missing person flier taped to her pinboard (along with all the other missing persons). With no discernible pattern, at least not to her, about the next victim(?) or the whereabouts of any of the others, Kenji was her best, and only lead.

Tonight, she could expect him to show at one of his usual haunts.  The bar below her. Not to her personal taste, the clientele of the more stabby nature. 

Earlier that week she managed to convince the bartender to spill a few snippets of the conversations between Kenji and the other patrons.

“The Bard this, The Bard that.” griped the bartender as he dumped the trash into the alley dumpster. “It’s pissing off my regulars and they’re pissy enough as it is.” 

He should have been here an hour ago though. Hex sucked on her lower lip, displeased as she scanned the road leading to and from the bar entrance. She’d give it another half hour then try and regroup on his trail in the morning.

“Cheers to another late night.” she muttered to herself listening in to the chatter and ambiance of the dive bar. 

________

Her 30 minutes go by and she huffs before finally switching the receiver off.  She’d go by tomorrow to get the mic back.  Just as she was about to stand from her perch Hex heard the unmistakable beat of wings above her, large ones, judging by the sound. 

It reminded her of her father. Probably one of the last people she wanted to see right now. Especially since her only lead ditched her for the night.

This night sucks.

 Hex thinks to herself, finally looking up intending to see the dark wings of King Crow finally come to drag her home but instead, she sees red.

This has to be the reason Kenji never showed. The thought bounces around her head angrily as none other than the number 2 Hero in Japan descended from the nightly heavens and landed on her rooftop.

This night really sucks.

“Yo!” Hawks held up a hand in greeting neatly folding his very noticeable wings against his back, shoving the other hand into his pocket.

“Will you get down!” Hex harshly whispers, gesturing him to stoop down and out of sight.

“Jeesh, hi, hello how are you? I’m fine, thanks for asking.” he jokes casually but still squats down feet planted on the ground resting his arms on his knees. Hex shakes her head and resumes her post looking up and down the street despite her previous resignation.

“You’re Hex right?” he starts “I’m-�� She cuts him off not taking her eyes off the street.

“Obviously I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. Especially every lowlife in the area who’ve probably fled after seeing your chicken legs flailing in the wind.”

“Ooo, ah, that’s my physical appearance. That hurts you know.” Feigning  being wounded, Hawks placed a hand over his heart but still kept the jovial tone. A smart smirk inching up his cheek continuing. 

“But you’re not after ‘every lowlife’, though right? Just the one. Takei Kenji?'' 

She turned to him and tilted her head, large round eyes finally meeting his sharper, more angled ones. 

“How did you...?” she trailed off, honestly surprised. It wasn’t common knowledge on how her ‘investigation’ was going. Uncommon because, well quite frankly… no one cared. Especially other Heroes. 

“Sorry Chickadee but I got some bad news.” Hawks stood back up and crossed his arms leaning against a nearby cooling unit.

Hex rolled her eyes

“Don’t call me that. What happened?” She looked up at him.

“Well, one of my guys found your guy in… not great shape.” 

Hex cursed running a hand through the back of her head, then sighed.

“How bad?” prepping for his answer.

“Morgue bad”

“Dammit!” cursing again, pinching her brow reeling from the implications.

“Your buddies at the station said you'd might want to know as a professional courtesy” brow pinched once more, Hex felt the annoying start of a headache between them.

“Courtesy? For what...” a thought flashing through her mind and she stood eyes going wide “Don’t you dare close my case!” jabbing a finger in his direction.

 He turned his head to face her more, still calm, still leaning, still observing.

“Close it? Oh no, wouldn’t think of it Chickadee. I’m taking over the investigation.”

Hex gaped. Momentarily at a loss for words. The frustrations starting to come to a point at the back of her neck, feeling an uncomfortable bristle forming.

“What no, you can’t! Do you know how much work” gesturing wildly with her hands “How much time! The favors I had to do, the resources I scrounged for-”

“Which are no longer a problem.” He blocked one ear with a finger and shot her what would have been an award winning smile “No need to shout Hex. Obviously I want to keep you,”  He paused, throwing a wink her way  “Keep you on the investigation that is.”

Hex scoffed,her head bobbing back as she shot him an incredulous look.

“I don’t do agencies, and I’m no one's sidekick.” she threw another annoyed jab of her finger in his direction.

“Ooo touchy. Freelance then. Sound good Chickadee?” Hawks held up his hand to maybe physically shield him from her ire.

“Stop calling me that and maybe I’ll let you help”

He smiled-no smirked again pushing off of the cooling unit he was leaning on stepping towards her shrugging his shoulders.

“That doesn't sound like a mutually beneficial arrangement to me.” Hex rolled her eyes and crossed her arms haughtily with a huff.

“And how does calling me stereotyped nickname benefit you, birdbrain.” 

Hawks chuckled. He didn’t expect it to be so easy to ruffle her feathers.

This was going to be fun.

“Isn’t that how these buddy cop movies play out? One hard-ass with a secret heart of gold and their handsome, comic relief partner put aside their differences to crack the case and learn the meaning of cooperation and friendship. Roll credits”

Hex tilted her head and shot him an unamused expression, opening her mouth to speak.

“I am not a hardass-” she stopped herself holding her palm up to stop the little banter she was getting pulled into. “Can you circle back, Takei Kenji?”

“Can we circle back to this team up? After all this is my case now?” 

Hex scrunched up her nose, not pouting, she told herself, and re-crossed her arms.

“Sounds like something a hardass would say.” she snarked and he grinned again, throwing his arms up bringing them down behind his head.

“You caught me. Hawks, the hardass with a heart of gold. Guess that makes you my handsome, no wait, beautiful partner then. So how's about it Chickadee?”

“Uhg” Hex clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes again. Squaring her shoulders she placed her hands on her hips

“I want a contract. Full access and authority over any and all future developments and details about my case.” Hawks nodded but shot her a finger gun.

“Our case.”

“Whatever!” she sighed looking up at the night sky hands still on her hips. 

“The agency manager can draft up whatever you’d like tomorrow. Let’s go see what Kenji had in his pockets shall we?”

Hex nodded reaching up to her headgear. She flicked the visor portion that was pushing her hair back over her eyes. The experimental mirrored tint softening the city night lights. She switched the setting on her earpiece making sure the seal around the was snug. Hawks floated a foot above the ground looking a little bored as he waited.

 Show off

Hex activated her own quirk, the bundle of jet black feathers at the base of her hair sending a shiver down her spine causing other inky feathers to erupt from her skin. The ebony plumes forming patterned rows along her arms covering them completely. 

Letting them creep upwards to the sides of her neck but stopped them before then could go any further on her body. Just enough for her to achieve flight. She did a small jump maintaining the upward moment with a strong flap of her feather covered arms and started for the station.

Harpy Hero: Hex

Quirk: Harpy- Half human, half bird! She’s able to do most things a bird can do and then some! Most notably, she can grow enough feathers to achieve flight.

______

There is no traffic in the sky and the previously chatty #2 Hero was silent during their flight. Hex was thankful, it gave her some time, however brief, to think.

This new development was...tragic. Someone would have to tell Mrs.Takei in the morning.

It should be me...

It’s just, Kenji was small time.  So why would he turn up dead?

And more importantly...

Hex cast a look in her periphery at the Fierce Wing Hero.

How did this fall into the lap of the number 2 Hero?

______

Hawks landed first. Not bothering to tame his windswept hair but did look up to observe Hex’s descent. She wasn’t quite as fast as him, well, then again, no one was. But she was graceful and skilled as she navigated the air currents. 

Fanning her wings wide Hex slowed her movements getting ready to land. A few more well practiced flutters and she also touched back down. Before she can remove her headgear she dispels her feathers. Casting them off with a quick flick of her arms. She hardened them into slivers then ground them to sand with another flick to minimize the mess and general rudeness of not picking up after your quirk.

She adjusted her headgear and hair and blatantly ignored the cheeky claps and nods of approval from the man besides her. She strode past him and up into the station. The night reception paid her no mind but did double take when they saw Hawks’s crimson wings engulfing their foyer.

Just outside the morgue waited a man with an impressive and well manicured mustache. He wore a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders and the first few buttons open.

“This her boss?” he asked in an accent indicating that he was from Australia. 

“Hex,” she offered “And you are?”

“Duke Amazing. Pleasure.” he greeted offering his hand. She was not expecting such a strong handshake.

“Given the circumstances…” she trailed off.  “You found Takei?”

“Well, what’s left that is…” Duke gestured to the door he was waiting in front of  “They’ve finished up for now. Just waiting on the bossman for the paperwork and whatnot.” He made another gesture in the direction of a door a little ways down the corridor.

“They’ve got his belongings in there”

“Perfect, cross the t’s and dot the i’s for me Duke?” before his sidekick could answer Hawks was already starting down the corridor. Hex followed close behind. 

Duke shook his head crossing his arms.

“June’s gunna pitch a fit again Hawks”

“Op, can’t hear you, the doors closing!” gently shoving Hex in the room and hastily closed the door behind them.

“Uhg paperwork” He bemoaned and leaned against the door

“Paperwork” Hex commiserated but was already looking over the items laid out on the small table.

There wasn’t much but everything was bagged, labeled and detailed on a piece of paper next to the items.

There was a small wallet, no money, a personal ID card. An older model cell phone, unusable. Most likely damaged in whatever altercation Kenji found himself in.

“Probably a burner” Hawks shrugged “Still, I'll get someone to pull the numbers.”  He made no move to examine the items himself but instead watched Hex very carefully as she examined each one. 

She cupped her chin as she looked at the final piece of evidence, brow furrowed.

“I’ve seen this before...” she commented, turning over the small business card over front to back several times examining it. 

While it was the same shape and card stock as a business card it held no information. No address, phone number, or even a business name. All that was printed was an indigo triangle.

“What is it?” He was curious because he had no idea what the shape meant either.

“I…” she started, brows still furrowed. “I have no idea, but I know I've seen this...” 

She placed the bagged card back on the table and leaned over it rubbing her hand to the back of her neck smoothing down her feathers there. The memory of where she’d seen this particular shape eluding her.

“Maybe at his apartment?” she muttered to herself, then sighed

“I’ll have to go back over my notes.” Hex leaned up from the table and unzipped her jacket pulling out her phone and snapped a quick picture on the item.

“How about we meet back up tomorrow then. Let me give you my number.” Hawks held out his palm asking for her phone. She was just about to hand it over but thought better and pulled it back causing him to catch air.

“No social calls, no memes at 3 in the morning, no unsolicited pictures.” her tone stern

“What if they’re tasteful?” he made a grabby motion with his hands and gave his brows a waggle.

“They’re never tasteful.” she quipped back but finally relented and handed over her phone.

Hawks flipped it over in his hands and quickly typed in his information jokingly setting the name for his number “Unsolicited dick pics” with an appropriate emoji next to it. He sent himself a quick text with her phone then clicked hers off and handed it back to her.

He was extremely pleased when she didn’t double check his contact info and simply zipped the phone back into her pocket. His little joke would be a fun surprise for the morning then.

“Send me where you want to meet tomorrow” She pressed her fingers to the back of her neck again “I’m heading out. Looong night” 

Hawks moved away from the door and let her pass, parting for the night.

“Well that led to a whole lotta nothing” He mused to himself finally taking his turn to look over the offending card stock.

“It’s never an easy mess to clean up is it?” He tossed the card back on the table.

_________________________________

[callboxkat]

A Little Nightmare (part 4)

Author’s note: I’ve said this before, but Remy and Joan are really fun. Hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

Warnings: a dog, food mention, drowning mention, injuries, fear, death mention

Word count: 3272

Infinitesimal Masterpost!

...

Remy hesitantly sat back down as Joan moved away, going back to eating the cereal that they had brought her. Despite the deal they had just settled on, she couldn’t help the wariness with which she watched the human. A part of her feared that she had just made a horrible mistake. She subtly rubbed the palm of her hand on her trousers. It felt weird where it had touched the human’s.

“So, when you’re done, is it cool if I bring you to the guest room?” Joan asked.

Remy swallowed, glancing in their direction.

“It’s just, you know, a pretty far walk for you.”

“Girl, I’m not a baby,” Remy muttered pointedly. “I can walk to this dumb room.”

Joan looked unconvinced, but they just shrugged and sat back, their gaze wandering around the room while Remy had her fill of the food and water. She took her sweet time, just to prove that she could, but her stomach filled up pretty quickly. Staring at how much cereal was left, Remy’s hands itched to take some pieces for later. She had nowhere to put them, though, thanks to her dumb self getting her dumb backpack stuck at the bottom of that dumb bucket. Still, maybe she could stick a few pieces in her coat or something? She silently cursed the fact that she’d never gotten around to adding pockets. Her old coat had had pockets. Why was Remy too lazy to put some on this one?

“What’s up?”

Remy jumped and jerked around to look at Joan, who was watching her with a soft frown. “Nothing,” she said quickly. Maybe too quickly.

“Really?”

Remy rolled her eyes at them and scoffed.

They held up their hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, if you say so, I believe you. Are you ready to go?”

“Are you?” Remy challenged. She got back to her feet, holding back a wince.

Joan scooted back and started to stand as well. “Okay. It’s just this way. They took a hesitant step in the direction of the doorway. Remy started walking, limping slightly on her injured leg, one arm wrapped around her middle in a fashion she was trying to play off as casual. Really, it was so that the motion of walking wouldn’t hurt her ribs so much. But the human didn’t need to know that. Joan waited for her, standing just outside the doorway.

Several long minutes later, Remy made it to the doorway, which led out into the human’s kitchen.

Joan strode across the linoleum tile floor, towards what looked like a hallway, and stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to catch up. Remy was growing more and more annoyed with herself and how slowly she was moving, and with the human who was just watching her plod along. She tried to find some satisfaction in making them wait, but really she just felt incompetent. She wasn’t so much walking as shuffling. It was embarrassing.

“This is stupid,” Joan said finally. “It’ll take like ten seconds, if you’ll just let me—”

“No,” Remy said flatly.

“I’ve picked you up before,” Joan said. “And it’s not like I….” They trailed off, apparently thinking better of whatever they had been about to say. From the look on their face, Remy guessed they had been about to claim that they hadn’t hurt her, which they had, whether or not it truly was in an attempt to help. The human let out a frustrated breath through their nose. “Please?”

“No carrying.” Remy gave them a firm look.

Joan looked around, searching. “What if… what if you stood in a box or something, and I picked that up? You’re not in my hands then, right?”

Remy leaned against the wall, fighting the urge to cough. “Nice try babes, but that’s still carrying me. I didn’t agree to be carried. No. Not part of your dumb deal.”

“Well, we’ve got to think of something, because at this rate your two days will be up before you even get to the room, and I’ve got a dog to take care of.” They gestured to one of the doors down the hall, behind which the dog must have been. Remy subtly scooted herself in the opposite direction.

“Not my problem,” Remy said, shrugging.

Joan gave her an unimpressed look. “I don’t get what the problem is,” they said. “Why can’t I just carry you there?”

“How do I know you’re not going to, like, drop me?”

“How do I know you’re not going to bite me?”

“Maybe I will,” Remy sassed, leaning forward and staring up at them sharply.

“Rude,” said Joan.

Remy adjusted her hold on her ribs. “Look, girl, would you want some giant person picking you up and carrying you around like a doll?”

Joan just stared at her for a second, then sighed, seeming to accept defeat. They walked back the way they had come. “Come on… ah….”

Remy listened as the human walked around the apartment, wondering if she should break her agreement and take this opportunity to try to leave. Before she could decide one way or the other, the human returned. They were carrying the blanket she had woken up in. Remy blinked, watching warily, wondering what their new idea was.

“So, how do you feel about stupid ideas?” Joan asked.

Remy stared for a second. “...How stupid are we talking?”

Joan held out the blanket.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve gotta tell you this, girl, but carrying me in a blanket is still carrying me,” Remy pointed out. “That’s like, basic common sense.”

“No, no, look—” They shook out the blanket, letting it unfurl so that the end of it rested in loose folds on the floor. “I pull the blanket, and you sit on the end of it on the floor. Like a sled! It’s a dumb idea, but it’ll work.”

Remy followed the blanket down to the floor, then looked back up at Joan. “You’re right, that is a dumb idea.”

Joan groaned loudly, but Remy was already walking towards the blanket. They blinked in surprise, then smiled in relief as she settled herself down in the fabric and held on.

“Let me know if I’m going too fast,” Joan said. Remy nodded once, apprehensive. “Here we go, then.”

They started to walk, slowly dragging the blanket behind them. The ride was a little jerky, since Joan’s gait wasn’t perfectly even; and it was disconcerting for Remy to feel the floor below as she and the blanket slid over it; but overall, it wasn’t too bad. They reached the guest room a lot faster than they would have if Remy had simply walked there; and, bonus, she was in one piece. Joan paused to open the door, then pulled her in on the blanket.

“I was thinking maybe you could camp out by the air vent?” Joan suggested, pointing to a spot a few feet from the door. “It’ll be warmer there. I’d let you have the heated blanket in here, but I’d rather not leave it on if I’m not here to keep an eye on it.”

Remy could already feel the warm air coming from the vent from where she sat. It felt very pleasant. Still, she hesitated, trying to figure out if there was a possible ulterior motive for the human wanting her to stay there. She could think of nothing, though; so she simply nodded.

“Okay, cool.” Joan waited for her to get off the blanket and to stand next to the wall, then gathered her former sled up in their arms and took it to the spot they’d pointed out. They bunched up one end of the blanket, and folded the rest of it over once to form a sort of enormous bed.

“Great,” Joan said, straightening back up and moving towards the door. As they did, Remy hesitantly made her way over to the blanket and clambered into it. Joan stopped to watch her sit down. “Do you need anything else for now? Maybe some ice? Or some more water?”

Coffee, Remy thought. “Ice,” she said instead, putting a hand to her chest.

Joan nodded and headed out the door.

Remy waited a second, then went to lay down in the blanket. She propped herself up on the bunched up part of it, finding that it hurt her ribs less to lay that way; and she kicked off her switched boots, which had started to hurt her feet. She was tempted to go right to sleep, but she wanted to wait for Joan to get back first.

Five-odd minutes later, she heard them approach. Despite knowing what to expect, she couldn’t help but stiffen. They came in carrying a small baggie of round green things, which they set down near the edge of the blanket she was in. Then, closer, they set down a small, patchy piece of gray fabric. She shifted nervously at how close they came to her, then looked down at the fabric. Remy instantly recognized it as her shirt, which she hadn’t bothered putting on under her coat earlier. She turned a light pink and snatched it, looking away.

“Here’s some frozen peas for ya,” Joan said, nudging the baggie. “They should help numb the bruises. Just don’t leave it on too long, okay?”

“Mmhmmm,” Remy said, drawing out the affirmation. She knew how to ice a bruise, thanks. She didn’t usually have easy access to ice to actually do it, but it was a pretty straightforward concept.

“Cool. I’m gonna go take care of Marco, then. I’ll be back in… I don’t know, like twenty minutes? That good?”

Remy shrugged, yawning. She pulled the small bag of peas up onto her chest, sighing contentedly at the cold feeling. “Whatevs,” she said, letting her head lean back against the blanket. Joan got up to leave, and by the time they had closed the door behind them, she was already asleep.

…

Joan held up the toy, waving it back and forth over their dog’s head teasingly. Marco was prancing around on his hind legs, trying to jump up and reach the toy. He barked once, quietly, when he couldn’t get it.

Joan laughed quietly and took pity on him, dropping the toy enough for Marco to grab it. “Shh, shh,” they urged. “Good boy. No barking.”

Marco hopped up to grab the toy and pulled it from their grip. He lay down with it pinned between his paws and chewed happily at the rope. His big brown eyes looked up at Joan as he did so. It was unfair how cute this little dog was.

Joan ruffled the fur between his ears, then sat back, watching their dog with a smile on their face.

As Marco got comfortable, chewing away with his feathery tail dusting the floor behind him, Joan’s phone started playing a tune: the alarm they’d set to tell them to check on “Nunya”. Joan had wanted to check in with her every once in a while, just to be sure that she was okay and to see if she needed anything. Maybe, if she was feeling up to it, they could talk to her a bit more. See what they could do to make her more comfortable. Get to know her, maybe, at least a little bit.

Of course, all of this was assuming she was still there. Joan wasn’t dumb. They knew why she had wanted to be set up on the floor, and not on a table or even on the bed. She wanted to be able to get around more easily, specifically for if she decided to skip out on them before the two days they’d agreed on were up.

It wasn’t like Joan was going to stop her. They wanted her to stay, obviously, since they figured that she’d have a hard time on her own at the moment, and admittedly also because they wanted to know more about her and who and what she was; but they weren’t going to force her to stay any longer than she chose to. For all they knew, she had people waiting for her at home, people who would undoubtedly be worried about her while she was gone. The odds were good that she did. It was the least Joan could do to help her make it back to them.

Joan got up and started towards the guest room, glancing back occasionally to make sure that Marco hadn’t followed them. Thankfully, he stayed on the floor, happily occupied with slowly demolishing his third toy that month.

Joan knocked softly on the closed door, then opened it, taking care to move the door slowly. The paranoid part of them kept telling them that the miniature woman was standing right behind it, so they wanted to give her plenty of time to move just in case that was actually true. They weren’t exactly looking to smack her in the face with a door. That seemed like a bad way to make friends.

“Nunya?” they called, since they still didn’t know the girl’s real name. They stepped into the room. “Nunya” was still in the blanket where they’d left her, the mostly melted bag of peas resting on her chest. She was lying down, her face turned away from them.

“Hey, you awake?” Joan called, their voice softened so as to hopefully not startle her.

The mouse-tailed young woman stirred, turning her head to look at Joan. They felt a little guilty about waking her, but it was too late now. The woman grumbled something as she turned to face them. Joan didn’t catch exactly what it was, but she was clearly unhappy to be woken. Or maybe she just didn’t like that Joan was there. Personally, Joan thought they were a delight, but they supposed she was entitled to her own opinion. She wiped at the side of her mouth as she struggled more upright. Joan decided not to comment on that.

“Hey,” they said, coming closer. “Mind if I take that bag from you? We shouldn’t leave it on too long. I can refreeze it for you, though, and bring it back later.”

The young woman blinked slowly, then started to push the bag off of herself. She stifled a pair of coughs, grimacing.

Joan knelt down next to her and couldn’t help but notice the way she shrank away from them, her body tense. Their face grew hot, but they just reached for the bag of peas.

“See you in a bit,” they said quietly, picking it up. They left the room, shutting the door softly behind them.

…

She was asleep again the next time they returned. They debated waking her up to give her back the bag of peas, but in the end they decided to just set it nearby and leave without waking her. She probably wouldn’t appreciate being repeatedly bothered, Joan figured, remembering her grumpiness from earlier. If she woke up and wanted the ice, it was right there.

…

Twenty minutes after that, when Joan returned for a third time, their guest still appeared to be asleep, but Joan couldn’t help but notice a distinct lack of snoring. The bag of peas was also in a slightly different position, so she must have moved it at some point. Her shoulders and jaw also looked a bit too stiff for Joan to believe she was actually asleep. They said nothing, though, simply reaching forward to grab the peas. They left again, shutting the bedroom door behind them with a soft click.

Joan didn’t really understand why the tiny woman would pretend to be asleep. Maybe she wanted to know how they acted when she wasn’t awake? Or maybe she just didn’t want to talk to them. They didn’t know.

Joan put the baggie of peas in the freezer and went back to get some work done.

It was at this point, while Joan sat on the couch trying to answer emails, that Marco decided to claim Joan’s lap as his throne. So, they were trapped for about forty-five minutes before they could go check on “Nunya” again.

Joan was a strict follower of the simple rule of life that you don’t make a comfortable dog get out of your lap. You just don’t. If you’re chosen, you just have to accept that that’s your life until the dog leaves. Joan knew this. Thankfully for them, they worked from home. It would have been a real problem if they had had an office job to go to. Marco would have made them late a lot.

Finally, Marco got bored of having his ears scratched and hopped out of Joan’s lap to charge at one of his tennis balls, and Joan went to check on the tiny woman. They were a bit nervous, since it had been longer this time than usual since they’d checked on her, but they told themself that she’d be fine. They hadn’t been gone that long, and she was probably just asleep.

They knocked on the door—like before, loudly enough to alert her to their presence, but quietly enough that it wouldn’t wake her up if she were asleep—and pushed it open a couple of seconds later.

“Nunya?” they whispered, making their way over to the blanket. “You up?”

Halfway across the room, they stopped mid-step.

She wasn’t there.

Icy panic spread through Joan’s chest. They quickly looked down at the carpet around and behind them, their breath catching in their throat. Where was she? What if she’d passed out on the floor again and they stepped on her by accident?

They didn’t see her anywhere between themself and the door. The tightness eased in their chest, but only slightly. They didn’t know her actual whereabouts, after all. They looked around the room at the bed, the dresser, the nightstand, wondering where she could be. What if she’d run off? Joan doubted she’d make it home by herself, especially in the state she was in. Joan’s aunt lived on the other side of town. That would be unimaginably far for someone so small, wandering around in the dark, who didn’t even know the way.

“Nunya?” they called again, louder this time. “Please tell me you’re still here.”

Heck, they’d take her home themself right now if she was that insistent on leaving tonight. They could only hope someone was there to take care of her. She probably wouldn’t tell them either way.

They reached for the blanket and pinched a bit of the fabric in their fingers, gently lifting it up in case she was hidden somewhere in its folds. No such luck. They let go of the blanket, letting it fall back into place.

“Please?” Joan tried again, straightening. “Nunya, I’m not mad, I promise; I just want to know that you’re okay.”

She didn’t answer. Surprise, surprise. They should have checked on her sooner. Maybe they could have stopped her.

“We had a deal,” Joan said softly, their heart sinking. “Two days, remember? It hasn’t been two days yet.”

They scuffed their sneakers together, looking around for any sign of her. They waited a few long minutes, then looked down with a sigh. She wasn’t coming out, if she was even still there.

“I hope you’re just hiding,” Joan murmured. They turned around and walked out of the room.

…

The door closed.

Five minutes passed in silence. Joan didn’t return.

Then, Remy finally emerged from her hiding place at the foot of the bed.

She stared across the room at the closed door, thinking.

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

5 times people got an insight into Freed and Laxus’ marriage and one time the whole guild did.

For @bluejaii, who sent me the sweetest ask and for @aceofheartsworld who always leaves the most heartwarming comments ! 

1. Gildarts

On the unique times that Gildarts is present in the guildhall, there are a few things he likes to do. The first being showering his amazing daughter with love and support, of course. Making good use of the guild's alcohol supply is second and his third favourite thing, involves bothering the shit out of the youngsters. Wendy and Romeo are easy to fool, eager to believe anything as long as it's said by an adult (Wendy more so than Romeo). Others are unbotherable (he doesn't know how to tease Erza without gravely insulting her, she ticks in a weird way.) Elfman is very easy to tease (How's your girlfriend doing?) and flustering Juvia is the simplest thing in the world. Now, one of Gildarts' favourite victims must be Laxus Dreyar himself.

The youngster has always been a bit (a lot) defensive when it comes to personal relationships and it's only gotten worse with the years. So of course, Gildarts has been asking the young man the same question every time he sees him : "You married yet?" It never fails to ruffle his feathers and Gildarts' always hides his laugh when the other man starts to look at anything but him before stomping off to God knows where.

Because Laxus probably relates Gildarts to feelings ranging from lowkey annoyance to highkey annoyance, the youngster tends to avoid him. So it comes as a complete surprise when Laxus enters the guildhall, lays eyes on Gildarts and smirks. His surprise gets even bigger when the young man takes a seat right in front of him and says : "Let's talk old man."

Although he's a little put off by Laxus seeking him out, he's not about to let that deter him from bothering the man. Leaning back, he plans to ask his usual question, absolutely sure of its effect until he studies Laxus carefully. He has his hand propped up under his chin and his smile gets smugger when Gildarts' eyes land on his ringfinger. His ringfinger adorned with an actual ring. A wedding ring. On Laxus' finger. After a minor mindimplosion, Gildarts opens his mouth to scream. Laxus stops him by slamming a menu card into his mouth.

"Listen, I'm here for one reason and reason only", Laxus states and glares at him with eyes that are very, very alike to Makarov's when he's displeased. Fucking genetics. "Okay, shoot."

"You had one wife that you liked, right? Cana's ma." He nods. "She was the love of my life. Why do you ask?” For a long time, Laxus stares at him and Gildarts wonders if the other is evaluating how genuine he is. Then, he crosses his arms and lowers his head unto them. "My partner is amazing", he blurts out and after that, he starts a three hour rant about why he loves his spouse.

-

2. Cana

"Laxus, drink with me!" she yells before plopping down annoyingly close next to him on the bench, invading his personal space just a little bit. She knows it doesn't bother Laxus at all, but it does bother his greenie and Cana has decided that she has the full right to pester him in every petty way possible. Scanning the area, she comes to the conclusion that Freed isn't around. Bummer.

"It's the good stuff", she winks and he gives her an amused huff before shaking his head. "No thanks, I'm good." Sticking out her tongue, she slaps his bicep. "Boo, where did your sense of adventure go? Your tongue for excellent beerrrr", she says while obnoxiously rolling her r's. "I think my husband wouldn't appreciate it too much, should I arrive at home drunk. I don't want to arrive home drunk either, because it makes my memory spotty and you best believe that I do not want to forget a single moment with my spouse."

Oh god. Laxus Dreyar isn't even drunk and he's already sappy. Looking at the clock, Laxus hums before ruffling her hair and standing up. "Dinnertime's rolling around and I'm not a lowly fucker, so I'm going to help my husband. You have fun, Cana." Watching his retreating back, Cana mutters : "Need me a freak like that."

-

3. Gajeel

On some subconscious level, Laxus still makes him feel a bit jittery. They've both been absolutely shitty, turned around and became less shitty. They have even regularly fought the same fights and Gajeel has teased the man quite a bit (as long as there were other people around). Doesn't mean that his body has forgotten what getting electrocuted felt like. So, one can understand that Gajeel felt an itty bitty nervous when Laxus stormed into the guildhall and then in his direction.

"Gajeel." His hope that the man was seeking out someone else leaps out of the window. "What", he snaps back and the other man's jaw tightens. "Your bookworm." Immediately, the protectiveness flares up, nervousness forgotten. "What about her?"

"She likes books."

What. How the fuck does this man's brain work? Looking at Laxus, who's running his hand through his hair and huffing in frustration, he decides to shut up until the guy finds his words. He doesn't seem to be that good at it. "You guys went to that book convention two towns over a few days ago. Did she think it was worth it?"

Laxus being the reading type? That's one that Gajeel did not see coming. Then it hits him like a freighttrain and he cackles. "Need a place to take your boyfriend to? Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

"My what? I don't have a boyfriend." Oops. Turns out he was too fast. "My bad, but seriously ask Freed out, he'll say yes. Not to overstep any boundaries or something, but you deserve happiness and shit. People tell me that a lot, so I thought I'd relay the message." The corner of Laxus' mouth turns up and Gajeel mentally pats himself on the back. God, he's good at this. He should start making motivational songs.

"Thanks, my husband tends to tell me that too." Then he leaves. The jackass.

-

4. Lucy and Natsu

It's a mystery. An enigma. A plotline more intriguing than anything she'd cooked up lately. What is this baffling conundrum Lucy has been trying to unravel? Laxus Dreyar's dating life.

Okay, maybe it isn't that big of a deal, but the man is surrounded by the prettiest people in the world (Mirajane, Cana, to name a few) and doesn't seem to be too interested in them (she can't relate). If she were less... cautious, she would've asked him about it by now, but alas, she's still a bit of a chicken sometimes. Sue her.

"Lucy, what are we doing?" Natsu flatly asks her. "Spying on Laxus", she whispers back and Natsu hums. "Understandable. Why?"

"Do you think anyone is interested in him?" she asks and wonders if the intricacies of romantic attraction even register in Natsu's head. His answer absolutely floors her. "Lucy, there's only two types of people who haven’t had a crush on Laxus once in their live and those are the ones that aren't into men. Or are too cowardly to admit it. Luckily for me, I'm neither of those."

"You had a crush on Laxus?" He rolls his eyes. "Keep up with the plan Luigi, of course, just like ninety percent of the guild. You've ever thought he's hot?" She admits: "Yeah, like once or twice."

"See Lucy, now you're getting what bi/pan solidarity is."

"Bonding over how hot Laxus is?"

"You might as well start calling it bi/pan/gay solidarity then", a new, terribly amused voice says above them and Lucy lets out an "Eep!" and hits her head against the table. Crawling from underneath it, she and Natsu come face to face with Freed Justine, who's looking both too entertained and smug.

Refusing to let go of her pastime, Lucy puts her hands on her hips and faces the captain. "What's Laxus' dating life like?" she demands to know and Freed shrugs. "I wouldn't know, he doesn't have one."

"Oh", she pouts and he chuckles. "If that's all, I'm gonna join the subject of your espionage." Right before he leaves, he looks over his shoulder and adds : "Since his dating life is nonexistent, you should ask him about his marriage."

-

5. Wendy

The flyer picturing the fair looks positively radiant and Wendy can nearly smell the candy apples and other sugared goods. It's a shame she won't be able to go though, because her team will be going on a mission and it's too far and dangerous for her to travel alone. A shadow alerts her of someone standing behind her and when she whirls around, she comes face to face (well more like face to chest) with Freed.

He too is staring at the poster and shyly she says. "It looks fun, doesn't it? If I were able to go, I'd take someone dear with me." Her voice must've sound a tad bit too longing, because he glances in her direction and asks : "Are you not able to go?" She shakes her head. "No, my team will be away and it's too far to go without adult supervision."

"I could go with you, if you do not mind my company, that is. Ah, I'll be taking someone dear to me along too, so you could invite Chelia if you wanted too." More often than not, she curses her face for revealing exactly what she's thinking, but right now, Wendy is over the moon. "Thank you mister Freed!" she yells before giving him a hug and speeding off. She's gonna have a blast with Chelia!

"Seems like our babysitters are tired", Chelia grins before shrugging. "Eh, at least we got candy out of it." As the two of them share their candy, Wendy looks at the scene in front of them. With an amount of skill that she certainly hadn't expected, Laxus is pinning Freed's hair up with a hairpin that he'd won a little while earlier. The light reflects off the pin and the rings adorning both men's fingers.

"Hey Wendy", Chelia says, laying her head on Wendy's shoulder. "When we're old like those two, let's be like that." Putting her hand on top of Chelia's and weaving their fingers together, Wendy nods sleepily. "Let's do that."

-

+1 Makarov or actually, + the whole guild

"Hey Gramps, you mind if we throw a guild party?" Well, aren't those words he thought he'd never hear out of his grandson's mouth. "You do whatever you want brat, as long as you can pay for it. What's the occassion?"

"Oh I got married."

"You what?"

(They get to hold the party and yes, Makarov cries over his grandsons. Both of them.)

[fan-wicktion]

Sparrow (10)

MASTER LIST

warnings: bad language, mention of weapons

a/n: WOW sorry it’s been a while. I have been going THROUGH. IT. I’m very excited about where this is going though, so the next part should be up faster. Love you all dearly.

Summary: You are an assassin who stole a kill from John Wick. He shows up in your apartment for revenge, but you managed to escape after some confusing sexual tension/combat. You fled the country pursuing a new contract, but ruffled some feathers along the way. Winston orders John to hunt you down and bring you back to him, and he intends to kill you as punishment for your misstep. John finds you (of course), ties you up and transports you to a secret holding house, attempts to interrogate you while taking out some of his sexual frustration, and ends up feeling bad for torturing you with a vibrator. You get back at him by masturbating (and getting off) in front of him in his room, pointing a gun at him so he can’t interfere.

----------------------------------------

“Get up. We’re leaving.” 

The gruff voice accompanies a couple rough knocks, and you groggily prop yourself up in bed.

Wha—?

Last night’s memories flood your mind like a breaking dam, and you close your eyes again with a groan.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. FUCK.

You drag yourself to a standing position and run over your options.

1. “Heyyyy…remember last night? Ha ha crazy right? That gun though…”

Ugh, no.

2. “Did you have any crazy dreams last night? I sure did. Anything weird that may have happened was definitely a dream. Not real at all! No need to think about it every again!!!”

Hmm… he probably wouldn’t fall for that.

3. Act like nothing happened.

You decide on number three, and exit your room as casually as you can under the circumstances. John is waiting in the kitchen with his bags, and you notice there’s no breakfast to be seen. Great. He glances up at you when you enter, and you quickly avert your eyes. Suddenly the wall is the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen, and you spend what feels like hours inspecting the peeling wallpaper before John clears his throat.

“Where’s my gun?”

——————————————————

At first, John thought maybe it was all a dream. Or a nightmare, actually. The sexiest nightmare possible. When you left his room he sat there in bed for a long time, heavily aroused and extremely confused. He considered going after you, but on the off chance that it WAS a dream, he decided not to. What would he say? “Oh sorry, I thought you were just pointing a gun at me and masturbating…?” No.

As soon as you walked out of your room, acting like you were auditioning for World’s Most Guilty Person, he knew it was no dream. Which meant you had his gun. He couldn’t let it slide.

He almost laughed at the look on your face when you realized he knew what you did. Almost. Your eyebrows shot towards your hairline, and your mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air for a few second before you recovered.

“I, uh… have it somewhere…” you sigh and pull it out of your waistband when he shoots you a look. “Oh whatever. It’s not loaded anyway. Could have been a nice throwing weapon though.” You catch his eye and smirk, referencing one of his…habits.

John steps forward so that you are eye-level with his broad chest, and silently holds out his hand. You roll your eyes and hand over the gun slowly, wanting to stretch these few seconds and stay this close to him as long as you can. You stare up at him with an unwavering gaze as he removes the weapon from your grasp, and the moment is weirdly intimate. The energy prickles between you; an electric magnetism you aren’t accustomed to. Quickly, you wrench your gaze away and shrug off the rising urge to pull his mouth against your own.

Stepping back, you glance pointedly at his bags. “Where to, boss?”

John gives you a long, hard look. He picks up his bags, then silently walks out the door. You follow, confused. What the hell was that? It crosses your mind to run, but you have no money or any idea where you are. Looks like I’m really in this bitch.

A taxi materializes in front of the building as if it had been waiting all along. What the fuck? Oh yeah. Assassins. Secrets. Stealth. Got it. You climb into the back seat, and you’re off. The scenery of the drive is beautiful, but is somewhat ruined when you notice the driver is the same guy as before. He keeps glancing in the mirror at you and then back at John who is seated next to him. Probably waiting for something exciting to happen.

“Hey, bud. Sorry but there won’t be a show this time,” you poke your head through the glass divider. “Unless you pay the right price, that is…” you toss him a peck on the cheek and wink at him slyly in the mirror as you sit back down. The driver’s cheeks redden past the color of a tomato, and you fall into fits of laughter when you notice John’s expression. Oh, he’s PISSED! Poor guy. You decide to take it (slightly) easy on him today, and the rest of the ride goes without incident.

When you arrive at the airport, he opens your cab door but stands blocking it.

“Listen up. We’re in public. I don’t want you to pull any stupid stunts. Just get on the plane, got it?”

“Who, me? Stunts? Whatever you you possibly mean?” You bat your eyelashes with a look of innocence that even Bambi couldn’t compete with.

“And—” John sighs deeply. “—You have to hold my hand the whole time.” He looks as though he would rather saw his arm off.

An evil grin spreads across your face like fire through a brittle forest, igniting the flame of an idea in the back of your mind. Tendrils of fire lick up around you, and devil horns sprout from your temples. A pitchfork materializes—

“—and as I was saying: Don’t. Pull. Anything. Stupid.”

Oh, he’s been talking this whole time. You nod along with him and the hell fire of your imagination extinguishes. You toss him an understanding smile that will hopefully convince him you heard whatever it was he was saying. He gives you a weird look, but seems satisfied that you will follow him obediently. HA!

John shoulders his duffel bag and holds out his hand. With a cheshire grin, you clap your palm to his and allow him to lead you into the airport.

Being pulled through crowds by a giant man in a suit while you trip along behind him in sweatpants would normally be humiliating. But you’re you. And you have a plan to fuck with the suited man.

Spotting an information desk, you make a sudden beeline towards it—dragging John along behind you. 

“Excuse me. EXCUSE ME!” You’re as loud and obnoxious as you can be. “I really have to SHIT, but my hubby-wubby here is being mean and won’t let me go. I gotta go BAD! Please show me where it is!” You pout with your lip stuck out, playing perfectly the bratty wife.

“Jesus Chri—” John yanks you back on track, but another force holds you in place. You both whip around and are confronted by the goddess Athena herself. A monumental woman grasps you by the shoulder with one arm, anchoring you in space.

“I will take you.” She glares the most dangerous man in the world into submission and leads you off. You stick your tongue out at John as you waltz away, giggling at his rage. He stalks after you, and only once you enter the women’s bathroom are you out of his sight.

————————————————

John paces back and forth outside the bathroom door. Shouldn’t she be done by now? Panic creeps over him like a shadow as he realizes you could be using this as an opportunity to escape, and his eyes dart around in search of any other bathroom exits you could have taken. He snags the nearest person by the shirt and shakes them, demanding to know if the women’s restroom lets out anywhere else. The man is shaking his head vehemently, confused and on the verge of tears when you finally re-emerge—20 minutes later.

“Whew,” you fan at the air with your hand, “I blew that shit UP.” 

The innocent bystander scurries away quickly as John releases him, and he crosses his arms as you saunter over.

“Hubby wubby?” he manages to grind out through his clenched jaw.

“Mmm-hmm! Let’s go, sugar pie! You’re the one who wanted to hold my hand the whole time!”

You snatch up his hand and practically skip off towards your gate, ignoring the steam pouring out of his ears. An evil laugh echoes in your skull. Oh, Johnny.

—————————————————————

You shouldn’t have been surprised when the plane you boarded was empty, but it still caught you off guard.  At least I can sit wherever I want?

The two of you were going to be sitting for about 14 hours on this flight, and you didn’t even have a book to read. You spent the first hour staring out the window at the ocean, the second braiding and unbraiding your hair and then wandering around the plane, and by the third you had reached the conclusion that John might be your only source of entertainment.

“Sooooo….” You flop down next to him up in first class. “How goes it?”

He glances up from what appears to be a very old leather volume, although he doesn’t appear to be reading it.

“Hmm? Oh. I’m fine.”

“Whatcha doing?”

He shifts around in his seat. “Oh. Well this is a book I’m restoring.”

“What the heck?! That’s so cool!”

“Really? I didn’t peg you as the type to have an appreciation for antiques.”

“Well, I’m hanging out with you, aren’t I?” You jab him in the arm jokingly.

“You have to.” His expression darkens, and something in your chest breaks open.

“Oh. I suppose I do. But… could you tell me more about that book?”

John observes you for a second, deep in thought. He appears to come to some sort of decision, then gently places it in your hands.

“Be careful with this. It’s nearly 200 years old.”

You yelp in surprise, but examine the leather with new reverence. Oh, wow…

He spends the next few hours explaining each part of the binding, how to tell the age of a book, and how he plans on repairing it. You couldn’t help but notice that his face was filled with a new light while talking, and his dark eyes softened considerably. You let him speak, asking questions here and there but largely staying quiet. This is my apology for earlier. …And pretty much my only option right now. But this is the most he’s ever talked to me…

With a fresh appreciation for the man that is John Wick, you eventually doze off. You don’t know that you drool quite a bit or that your head flops onto John’s shoulder, and you’ll never know how shocked he was that he didn’t mind.

—————————————————

BEE-BEEP.

An electronic tone drags you from your impromptu nap, and you look over and see John is gone. Probably in the bathroom. I guess even badass men have to poop. The culprit of the noise was his phone, which had been left in his empty seat.

It’s probably none of my business but… You lean over and read the notification eagerly, and a familiar sight greets you. A contract! Target know to be around the Los Angeles area…You brighten, an idea rapidly composing itself. Maybe he’ll agree…

John returns and you spring back guiltily.

“Oh! I uh… just saw that you got a notification for a new live contract.”

“Okay. And?”

“Well I thought—I don’t know. It’s right near where we’re going to be landing…” Trailing off, you lower your eyes. “Can we? I won’t run. I just need to let off some steam—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?!”

“Yes. I could use it too.” He sits back down with a sigh and closes his eyes.

Wait, did I just? Fuck yeah! You silently punch the air in victory then gaze out the window, daydreaming about combat until you land.

——————————————————

“Oh my GOD. This is our hotel room?”

John nods. “Your room is over there.” 

You traipse around the enormous suite, seeing nothing but dollar signs stacking up.

“How much did this cost?”

“Money isn’t a problem for Winston.”

“I see—” you whip around to face him in disbelief. “Is—Is that my stuff?” You approach the bed in your room slowly, as though the backpack resting on the duvet would suddenly spring out at you. Unzipping it, you find everything. Your phone, weapons, clothes…even your beach towel and book. “How did you do this?”

He leans in the doorway and shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard—” he lets out a surprised grunt as you tackle him into a hug, patting your back uncertainly. 

“Thank you.”

“Okay, uh, you’re welcome.” He delicately disengages himself and you step back, embarrassed.

“Well. I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow. Be ready to kick some ass.”

“I always am.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @chicksamwitch @mikaneonox @onebatch—twobatch​ @fandomwritrix @littledeadgirlwalking @minsugagenius @10yz @where-did-the-good-ones-go @catsmieow @xrevoltx @kezzasaurus-rex @homesoutofhuman @lunilate @coolbreezeinkeanureeves @bonky-bornes @lustforfern @so-not-waiting-for-godot @weird-civilian

[cinaminho]

Woman Like Me | H. Jisung

Group: Straykids

Genre: Mafia AU

Warnings:'lil fluff,, some mild violence,, swearing,, funny??,, Tiny Angst

Requested: Yes, " [Mafia] can I get something where you get smart mouth in front of Jisung and his gang and we’ll you finish he rest 😂😂"

Plot - His Temper has been tested many times with all the frustrations of being a mafia tech plus a part time hitman , his daily activities are stressful enough. With a Hot headed tantalizing lover like you He would've guessed being together would be a different level of difficulty, but not this difficult and how is that even though you make that Tiny vein pop near his temple in frustration that'd he finds it addictive and more reason to fall for you even if he isn't willing to admit it to anyone.

--------- ♡

Sidenote - I didn't know if you wanted it long or short so I apologize if it's too short.. Or long.

It wasn't unknown that'd you'd pop up at the SKZ's headquarters it'd gotten to the point where no one questioned you when you walked in nor did you acknowledge anyone standing guard out of the fifteen men and women per side you had to go through , they knew not to Question Han Jisung's future wife. You guys are engaged so an unlikely alliance can be formed between two former rival mafias as your brother is meant to take over your Father's corporation soon.

Although Jisung and the rest of your father's or should you say Brother's mafia got along well as you did with the other 8 most important Members of Stray Mafia, you two had a very Rocky beggining and bolders were about to be tumbling your way soon if you two couldn't at least learn to be friendly with one another.

Mafia merging wasn't unheard of it usually did involve two children from the opposite gangs getting married but those things didn't last nor seem believable since ninety nine percent of them were forced yours being one of them. Mafias never stayed merged when the lovers from opposing sides didn't get along it'd cause them to clash even worse than before the arranged marriage.

You guys had to make it seem genuine in order to establish your mafias as a bigger threat. Your eyes trained ahead focused on the automatic opening doors infront of you that you'd soon enter which would be the main part of the headquarters a.ka. The surveillance room where Jisung worked. Your feet tapped against the shiny metal tiles beneath you as you walked into the room inhaling the smell of disinfectant whipes, you bet Jisung whiped all the technical equipment down.

You looked around seeing many familiar and unfamiliar faces moving about doing different things, checking surveillance, fixing equipment, testing equipment you name it, to anyone even you it looked like a C.I.A organization which is what they kind of were but, you know, on the more crooked side.

You Spotted Jisung where he'd normally be behind what you'd describe as a fence of tables with Computers , cameras , and other technology fenced around him with a big enough opening for someone to walk through, though, no one besides The other 8 elite stray members and you came to that side of Jisungs work space.

Speaking of the other 8 members that's exactly where they were, chattering. You strolled over confidently clearing your throat Making your arrival known to those who had their backs to you including Jisung who spun in his computer chair to see you his giddy smile instantly dropping once he saw you a frown replacing it which brought you a smile of your own . "Not happy to see me I'm assuming." Your voice laced with fake concern. Jisung rolled his eyes already knowing you were being fake, "Exactly so don't ever assume otherwise."

He sassed back. A glare war began between the two of you. "Well~ The love birds bickering Begins." Chan clapped causing both of your attention to snap to him, "My favorite part of Y/n visiting." Hyunjin chuckled. "Y/n it's lovely to see you!" Jeongin chimed in Bowing to you before embracing you in a hug which you returned.

You clearly heard Jisung groan in annoyance making you two let each other go "Can't you see they're evil yet you still like them?" , "Y/n is nice to us and actually is useful when we need help finding a location if we can't get to you." Seungmin countered from Behind Jisung leaning against one of the computer desks, "I also don't kill people." You added "That hasn't been proven." Jisung grumbled sneering at you.

"Oh whatever Jisung, get back to typing fake reports on the computer, yes? The day is slow so what the hell could you possibly be doing." Within two point zero seconds a chorus of 'ooh's' were heard from the other members , you cockily lifted a brow crossing your arms because what'd he have to say now?

"My God, Jisung, you really have a fireball on your hands eh?" Felix chuckled. "Leave him alone he's clearly angry." , "Ohh this is good." Minho and Changbin added. "Ruffling a few of his feathers won't get him completely heated up, Right Jisung... Jisung?" Woojin had gotten no response from the young technician who's eyes were hooded black with rage.

You seen him angry but didn't flinch an eyelid, the way he was gripping the arms of the chair as he began to tremble it didn't look like he was breathing as his lips were pressed together roughly and his entire face almost completely bright red .

"Take it easy Jisung it's just kidding around , Alright?" The leader cautiously spoke being the first after you to take notice in his anger. You still were feeding off of his anger satisfied that you could bother him like this and infront of his colleagues or friends was absolutely beautiful to you. You could tell by the twitching of his fingers that he was ready to boil over just about.

Good because that's what you wanted, let him make a scene and be embarrassed by the attention lashing out later at the onlookers. Jisung squeezed his eyes shut for a minute or two before opening them looking as if all anger had vanished you discretely furrowed your brows which Jisung caught and gave you a knowing smirk making you grit your teeth silently.

He stood up from his seat making all the curious males eye him carefully as he took heavy steps towards your frame. "Y/n may I talk to you in the combat room?" His voice was honeyed you became suspicious naturally at the lack of aggravation in his voice, "why i-" , "Combat room, now." He quickly spat forcing you to turn in the opposite direction and walk until you two disappeared out the doors and down the halls .

"You don't think..." Hyunjin asked trailing off knowing that Chan knew what he was asking by his suggestive tone "Not in my combat room." He said flatly eyes still on the automatic door you two had exited out of , "Of course not you freak." Woojin mumbled.

----- 🔫

You felt Like Jisung was shooting darts with his eyes at the back of your head forcing you to stop and face him "Jisung I hope you-" , "No talking until in the combat room." He blunty spoke pointing for you to face the opposite way again and head into the room. You growled quietly before obeying.

Your eyes scanned each side of the halls for the combat room you were so lost in space that you didn't notice Jisung had stopped, "The door is right here you Dimwitted Ninny." Jisung called out making you instantly turn around stomping towards him glaring harder than ever letting him know that you didn't take lightly to that name but all he did was tilt his head signaling for you to go inside. You slipped passed him eyes not leaving his suspicious of what he might do but once you were sure he wouldn't try anything you took in the scenery of the blue soft padded wall room.

You sighed turning to him nonchalantly "I know what this is about." Jisung closed the door before turning to you, "You don't say?" His sarcasm was more than clear "Yes it's about what happened out there." You concluded. Jisung let out a Taut chuckle, "Yeah you really had 'em goin out there." You were sure despite the chuckle that he was far from amused "Look Jisung, WOAH!" Was all you could say followed by a puff of air leaving your lips wincing as your back collided with the Tile floor.

You cradled the back of your head letting out strangled shrieks in pain it took you a few moments to come back to your senses, "Did you.. Did you just PUSH ME?!" You spoke almost wheezing. "Yeah and I owe you more than that!" He announced.

Within seconds you were off the floor and before you knew it infront of him with the back of your hand colliding harshly with his face causing an echoing smack in the room. If you were in shock before then he was absolutely stunned now, "Did you just.." , "bitch slap you? Yes I did and I owe you more Than That!" You laughed bitterly restating his previous words to you.

"You really are the fiancee from hell!" He spoke thickly making you scoff sending him another blow but this time with your foot to his knee making him double over instantly grimacing in pain , "hmph, almost looks like when you proposed." You said satisfied and walking towards the door dusting yourself off.

Your two feet were brought from under you though as Jisung had other plans once again making you collide with the floor and groan in pain, Jisung quickly pinned himself over you fighting to get your hands down, "Are you seriously fighting me right now?!" , "It's the combat room isn't it?" He said struggling above you as you were pretty strong "your fighting skills are as weak as your hacking!" , "Your blocking skills are as weak as your driving skills Master 'I don't know how to parallel park'" .

You found a way to bring your knee up and powerfull into his chest causing him to fumble back and grip it you'd definitely knocked the air out of him pouncing on him giving him no chance to recover "You're unbelievable!" "For Enjoy this? I know!" , You almost stopped immediately "Wait you like this?" You said out of breath sitting up but he didn't answer instead he sent a painful blow to your shoulder your yelp in pain could've broke the windows.

Jisung stood up cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders back "Yep I do and now that I've handle that I can get back to work." Jisung jumped up and approached the door but it came swinging open revealing a very panicked and concerned leader also Hyunjin along with an amused Changbin and Minho, "ohhh so that's what all the tusseling was." Changbin smirked "Oh thank God!!" Chan sighed relieved.

"Yeah guys I just had to handle-" An 'umph' was heard from Jisung as his entire front came in contact with the wall infront of him and his arm behind his back pressing to pop out of it's socket all of which wad being done by you, "You could never handle a woman like me." You panted out smirking. Little did you know he was smirking as well.

He'd grown to enjoy these little matches because that meant more space for loving once you tied the knot and less fighting ,you guys just found things to pick at simply because it turned into lowkey flirting though that wasn't how it started out but you both were aware that it's what it'd progressed too, this was a bit more obvious though neither would admit it, hard to explain, didn't make sense, it was all complicated but it was how you two did things.

"So should we break this up?" Hyunjin asked "Ruin their Date? I don't think so, c'mon guys, back to the main headquarters." Chan ushered while closing the door leaving you two to wrestle with a chorus of Disappointed cries from the boys as they left.

-

-

-

That ending was bad and I planned for it to be different but I'm just now finishing this at 3 a.m. so give me a break... Please? Anyway, I hope whoever reads this enjoys it, I'll fix the typos later but I must sleep now ❤.

[tintinnabulary]

Archeron Ambrosia

Chapter Three

AN: Thank you all for the amazing support you’ve given me the last two chapters! Here’s another one that I wrote, and hopefully I’ll start posting a chapter every Friday. Luckily, I think the scene is finally fully set and developed, so from here forward I’ll be doing cute (and maybe eventually smutty???) goodness for you all to enjoy!

Don’t forget to comment, and let me know if you want to be tagged in any of the future chapters!

Masterlist

Feyre readjusted her heavy backpack on her shoulder as she glanced down at the directions Nesta had given her to get from Velaris University to the new storefront they had been working on for weeks. While working at a bakery was never the plan for her life, Feyre was quite content being a cake decorator--and equally glad her capstone supervisor, Alis, let her turn in photographs of her cakes as part of her artist portfolio.

Feyre heard a male voice calling her name in the distance and picked up her pace. Since starting her final year at VU last semester, another student named Tamlin had been trying to ask her out and learn more about her. At first, it was flattering having someone take such a keen interest in her. But then the obsessive behavior became more and more alarming, and Feyre had no doubt it was his voice calling out after her. Not wanting to be so easy to catch up to, Feyre ducked down a side road and began zig-zagging her way through businesses. Her heart rate picked up as she heard his steps pick up on the concrete behind her.

Feyre quickly diverted to the main road, and saw the bakery a few blocks down on the side. As she looked over her shoulder to gauge her distance from Tamlin, she ran right into a stranger. Without thinking, Feyre blurted out, “Pretend you know me, please.”

Feyre looked at the stranger, who’s beauty struck her near speechless, and noticed his violet eyes looked at her, flickered over her shoulder, then hardened slightly which didn’t match the smile that sprung up on his face. He threw his arm around Feyre’s shoulders, then loudly declared, “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” He winked down at her, equal parts flirty and conspiratorial. He glanced at the paper in her hands, his smile seeming to turn a tad more genuine. “I was supposed to walk you to the bakery. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Confusion clouded Feyre’s eyes eyes before settling into the role he had built. “You were late. I had to get to work. Couldn’t be late on my first real shift.”

“Well, I’m sure Elain would understand.”

Fear coursed through Feyre’s veins. How did he know her sister’s name? Did she just get herself into a worse situation with this stranger? He leaned down to her ear and whispered, “Calm down. I met her earlier today. I work next door. I’ll explain later when this guy leaves.” Feyre nodded slightly, placing a smile back on her face and relaxing slightly.

At that moment, Tamlin caught up with Feyre, his eyes setting into a cold, hard stare at the mystery stranger.

“Hello, lovely day isn’t it?” the stranger said, a playful and dangerous smile adorning his face.

Feyre tried to match the man’s smile and tone when she said, “Hey Tamlin, This is my boyfriend.”

“Rhysand.” He held out his hand. Tamlin stared at it before crossing his arms and looking at Feyre.

“How come I’ve never heard of him before?” The smug look he wore, like he caught Feyre in a trap, made her want to punch him.

“Because I like to keep my life private, Tamlin. Now, is there a reason you’re here, or can I finish my walk to work?”

Tamlin fumed, but spun on his heel, walking away as Rhysand yelled, “Nice to meet you!” at his retreating form, shit-eating grin on his face.

Feyre spun out from under his arm, grumbling a “thanks,” then continued walking towards the bakery.

“ Hey wait,” it didn’t take long for Rhysand’s long legs to catch up to her. “You work at Archeron Ambrosia, right?” Feyre only glanced up at him. “Your sister, Elain. She came by my our shop and brought a cookie sampler tray. They were delicious. Did you make them?”

Feyre snorted. “No. I just decorate them. Nesta does all the baking.”

“I didn’t meet her. She’s another sister?”

“Yeah. The oldest.” Feyre stopped outside the bakery. “So I take it you work at,” she looked around Rhysand to see the sign, “Illyrian Inscribed?”

“It’s a tattoo shop.” Rhysand shrugged, placing his hands into his pockets. “I own it with my two brothers, Cassian and Azriel. And my cousin Mor works the front desk. So, if you ever want to get some work done, I’d be happy to give it to you.”

“Maybe, we’ll see.” Feyre smiled at him, then moved towards the door, running into a shaggy haired man leaving the store, smile lighting up his face. “Oh! I’m sorry. The second person I’ve run into today.”

“Speak of the devil.” Rhysand smirked. “This is my brother, Cassian. Cassian, this is Feyre. She works at the bakery too with her sisters.”

“Hi.”

“Hey! Your sister, Nesta, she’s a firecracker.” Cassian ran a hand through his hair, “I hope you’re not as tough.”

Feyre laughed, “No, she’s the toughest of us all. I’m a nice, middle of the road kind of girl.”

Rhys cocked an eyebrow at that, and Cassian roared with laughter. “Good, good. I’m glad this little place has moved in next door. I think it’s going to make things quite interesting.” Elain came rushing out of the tattoo shop, blush coloring her face, as she rushed past the group and into the shop. “Very interesting.”

“And on that note,” Feyre declared, adjusting her backpack again. “I’ll see you guys around.” Feyre moved towards the door.

“See you around, Feyre darling.” Feyre looked at him, where he returned the wink, and she scoffed and entered the bakeshop.

“Oh man,” Cassian laughed, clapping a hand on Rhysand’s shoulder. “We are in trouble. Let’s go find out what Az did that made that little doe-eyed girl turn so red.”

~~~~

Feyre walked into the shop, bells jingling, and moved behind the counter. She set her backpack in a small storage area beneath the cash register, tossed her directions into the trash, and began putting on her black and blue night sky themed half-apron. Hearing voices from the back, Feyre made her way into the back to see Elain talking animatedly, blush still adorning her cheeks, and Nesta calmly measuring cream and butter into a large electric mixer.

“And he stood so close to me, and reached around to grab a cookie. It was so intimidating. He was so tall and mysterious and handsome and I just don’t think I can ever go over there again!”

“Who are we talking about?”

Both heads whipped up at Feyre, then relaxed. “Azriel! Az? I don’t know what to call him. He works next door at the tattoo shop.”

“Oh yeah. I met Rhysand and Cassian on my way here. They both seemed nice.”

“And handsome.” Elain sighed. “How are all three of them so attractive? That really isn’t fair. Or real. Real life is not full of men that devastatingly beautiful.”

“You can say that again.” Nesta mumbled.

“What was that Nes?” Feyre asked, smirk firmly in place.

“Nothing.”

“I saw you met Cassian. He said you’re a firecracker. Started ballbusting right from the get go?”

“He needed to be knocked down a few pegs.” Nesta blew at a strand of hair that was falling into her face. “Coming in here with all that swagger and confidence like I’d just throw my panties at him” She blew another breath at the strand. “That’s probably what he expects from all of the girls.” A third frustrated breath had Elain coming over and tucking the strand behind her ear. “Thanks.”

“No problem. That’s the first guy to ruffle your feathers though, Nesta.”

“He ruffled nothing.”

“Well, Azriel ruffled something with me.” Elain laughed, and Feyre joined in.

“Well, Rhysand came in like a knight in shining armor, saved me from that awful guy Tamlin that I haven’t been able to shake. I literally ran into him on my walk home.”

“That’s just like a romance novel” Elain sighed. “Three of us, three of them. Triple dates?” Elain perked up, and Feyre laughed at the face Nesta made.

“Elain, you might be jumping ahead. You might want to work on a conversation with the guy before you plan your children’s names.”

“Or,” Nesta interjected, “We could focus on all of the cakes we have to make. And making sure this business succeeds. And not worry about what the people next door are doing.”

“Nesta,” Feyre leaned on the counter. “They have a successful business. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to talk to them about what they’re doing to get business in this little corner of the city.”

Elain leaned next to her, “And if you happened to get a date out of it, would that be so bad?” She batted her doe eyes at Nesta, and Feyre burst into laughter. Nesta’s face scrunched up and she leaned across the counter, facing her two sisters.

“Would you two please, for the love of the Mother, get to work on your decorations?” The two burst into laughter.

“Alright, alright.” Feyre stood up, and moved towards her airbrush kits in the back corner of the room. “Elain, let me know when you’re ready for me to paint those fondant flowers you’ve got for the Spring Court cake, and I’ll work on the wood patterning on this cake for Mrs. Alias’s party. I’ve got to get it right since it’s the first in my portfolio she’s going to see up close and personal.”

“Fine.” Elain grabbed a slab of fondant out of the industrial fridge and slapped it on the counter. “But we’re not done talking about a triple date.”

“We’ll talk about it when you can hold a conversation with the guy.” Nesta said, blowing hair out of her face as she poured her batter into cake pans.

Tag List:  @tragically-broken, @bluephoenix222,  @alicethelonerabbit,  @court-of-fandoms-and-art

[universeconspired]

"Wow, I guess you really are what you eat here. Explains why he's such a fucking pussy. Or wait— he probably DOESN'T, does he?"

          Perhaps it was the amount of wine. Perhaps it was the fact she wasn’t following her usual Thursday routine. Perhaps there had been some secret brain surgery she’d undergone and never noticed. Dom’s comments usually left her less than impressed. They typically ended up ruffling her feathers, leaving her regretting giving him the time of day and weirdly wanting to retreat back into her mundane and pathetic existence at the hands of Freddie. Yet, there wasn’t even remotely a part of her that was angered by the dig at her husband. Nova could blame her lack of the typical defence on the not-so-fresh London air. Or the wine - god, she’d drank far too much wine. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely farfetched of her to blame it on the slightly muggy humidity of the Summer creeping into London and leaving the nights just a little uncomfortable. Whatever reason it was, there had been some strange shift that evening. 

          Never in a million years had Nova expected she would be sat on a rooftop in a particularly sketchy part of the city after having taken the tube. Nor did she expect to be sitting on said rooftop, rather more than just tipsy while cradling a mug of wine in her hands and brushing shoulders with someone she’d been convinced had been stalking her a mere few weeks previously. And, yet, there she was letting out such a genuinely amused laugh against the rim of the mug. A slightly self conscious clenching of her fingers left her rings lightly scraping against the ceramic - if it was even ceramic - as she let herself go. It would have been easy to fall back into her usual role: The dutiful wife, supporting her wonderful and highly successful husband with elegance and diplomacy. Certainly quite the opposite to snorting into some cheap wine picked up from Tesco and discussing her sex life with said husband that had already received quite the verbal bashing over the course of the evening. Well, and then downing said wine for some extra liquid courage.

          “I can’t comment on his extra curricular activities.” There was a certain blunt truth to her response, wine lowered to rest against her knee while her bare feet curled further underneath her. Truly, while this was all very freeing and leaving Nova more relaxed than she’d felt in years, there was a vulnerability in laying out all of her dirty laundry. However, she was frustrated. Nova wasn’t stupid. Any time Freddie was away on business or spending an evening with the guys, she was aware that it was a plain and simple lie at least half of the time. It would have been easy to play vindictive wife, finding the lipstick on the collar and cheap perfume, blonde hair, chips of nail polish… He probably thought he was clever when he wasn’t subtle at all. Clearing her throat, Nova shifted to lean slightly against Dom. There was a strange energy in the touch, a low thrum of electricity that left her addicted and curious about if it would intensify or not. Still, she was too cautious about really destroying her reputation to push it too far.

          “But I sure hope he puts more effort in with them than with me.” Nova could practically hear her mother’s mortified squealing. For as unhappy as Nova was, her mother adored Freddie. She adored being connected to the Cracknell family. She adored being able to mention that Freddie was her son-in-law. Hell, she adored that Freddie had persuaded her away from a continued life of academia and research that was apparently so unfitting for someone of her caliber and attractiveness. While she certainly wasn’t Luna, she wasn’t hopeless in the looks department - a sentiment she was reminded of regularly as an argument for her continuing her studies in favour of truly settling and having children. Yet, right now she held such regret for settling for Freddie. A man who clearly held no interest in the fact his wife was an intelligent human being. A man who had no interest in the fact she had needs that weren’t satisfied. She had a threshold for attention that was never met and this disgusting emptiness in her life despite all of the material things both herself and Freddie had thrown at it.

          A sigh left her, top teeth brushing against her bottom lip in a crack of her facade - well, until she remembered it would completely destroy her lipstick. Whether it was the wine, the conversation or the weird energetic brush of their shoulders, Nova was feeling extremely warm. It was easy enough to convince herself it was the wine, leaving her leaning her head to the side a little to rest against Dom’s shoulder while her eyes closed. All it took was a few breaths to rectify just how drunk she was and reign that back in. Divulging her private life wasn’t smart. She was better than that. Yet, when her eyes opened again as she sat back upright, a breathless laugh left her just as a thought struck her mind. 

“I dare say my appeal left me around the time he said ‘I do’. No effort needed after that. It’s what comes with marriage, isn’t it?” Some level of naivety laced her tone, although it was swirled with this uncharacteristic bitter sarcasm. After all, she’d only ever really been with Freddie. It was what she should have expected instead of some ridiculous over the top romance and love that would keep her swept of her feet and satisfied. That wasn’t reality. Yet she’d always felt like there had to be more than what she had. “This is like one giant, expensive deterrent,” Nova continued, wriggling the fingers of her left hand with a slightly bitter huff. While her mind was telling her to stop, there was some filter missing that left her unable to actually stop spilling all of the things she hated about her life. “Husband included, apparently.” 

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

Of cats and birds.

A side story of how Alex the Cat meets two feathered friends of his cousin.

It was one clear dusk sky at the storehouses where the city's kept their supplies and transported goods is where we find that notorious thief from another country. He was laying on his back on one of the crates that contained fashionable fall coats from Europe.

He was gently playing with a very beautiful, heart shaped, sapphire and was unsatisfied of how it turned out earlier with a certain girl he wanted to take form... When he 'borrowed' it, he thought for SURE he was going to get her, but her rejection and answer was still the same... She belong to him... Just like the others before her...

He sighed out of frustration. He then noticed a small grey mouse just passing by him and stopped at just the right spot... Unlucky for the little mouse, the white cat had fast hands and caught him. He lifted the poor thing by the tail as he struggled and squeaked, close to his face.

“Life is never fair. Is it? Well, for me, it is.” He said. “Always not getting what I wanted if I played fair... But for you, well...” He smiled deviously and then grabbed the mouse's body. “It sucks to be you. Mmmhmhm! Die for me.” He then started to squeeze the life out of the little creature. He was a sadistic after all, he loves seeing living beings getting hurt...

But his pleasure of seeing the suffering was interrupted when a hand was on his and loosen his grip on the mouse. It released the poor thing and he immediately fled. He frowned and looked at his visitor to get a good look of him. To his surprise, it was that guy...

He had a very bright, red hair with a pointy back, had green eyes, facial beard, an old beat up, patched up, tailor coat, a white button shirt, navy blue pants and bark brown shoes. He saw him through a few photos at his cousin's place and in the kids drawings one time...

He also had a frowning face. “Didn't your parents ever taught you not to harm animals like that?” Oh? He had an Irish accent... so this must be that Woody McPecker guy that his cousin sometimes work with...

He decided to play it cool. “You must be that Woody guy my cousin sometimes hangs out with... To what do I owe you for finding me here?”

The redhead crossed his arms. “A bird told me that you were trying to steal Felix's girl, again. Haven't you learned anything from past rejection that she doesn't want to be with you? There are plenty of others out there that are just as pretty. Why are you so persistent of getting this one?”

He really don't get it... “What I do and what I want is nobody else's concern. I'm just working to get what I want.” He rolled over to his side, away from him.

“Funny. I don't recall you having a job and don't even say the life of a thief is considered one of them. That title is not worth it, believed me.” He said as if he had experienced it. Big deal, you sounded like got caught with hands in the cookie jar once and now you're too scared to continue? That ruffled his white fur the wrong way...

“Whatever, done harassing me? I had an unpleasant evening earlier as you described it and I wanted some time alone.” But he was not finished yet. “Fine, but you need to hand over that sapphire necklace first. You didn't pay for it, but I'll let you slide once if you handed over right now.” He offered his hand as to say hand it over.

Does this bird brain know who HE is? Or better yet, does he know WHAT he's dealing with?!

The white cat's eye twitched, but remained calm. “Aw! But the condos here are not exactly cheap here...” He whined.

The Wood pecker was not letting his guard down for that and said. “Welcome to our commoner world. Now for the last time, hand it over or I will be forced to put you under arrest for shoplifting.”

What... did he just said? Did he said... shoplifting?!?! HE, Alex Cat, the most infamous thief of Europe, was being told by this guy, called his well crafted plans of grand theft, SHOPLIFTING?!

“Loud mouthed beak, you just made one major mistake with me... and probably the last.” He said it intimately and got up, still had his back turned. “No one dares to call my theft skills as a 'shoplifting' category. That 'title' is for the amateurs. There's no pride of taking a worthless, petty items like that of a candy bar or a pack of cigarettes.” He then started to speak of his pride. “I only take the best. The 'creme de la creme' kind of treasures, the most priceless jewelries from India and sacred foreign places. My title as the greatest thief in the century, Alexandre Derussée, will surpass that of the novel version the the gentlemen thief of Arsene Lupin! My plans for the heists is far superior of any of those who came before me. I can easily manipulate and recall the fine details of the latest technology and securities. One time I've escaped one sultan's heavily guarded palace with a very rare diamond called the 'Evil eye' and I duped the whole staff including the man himself!” The white cat opened up his arms with the last words with a big, psychotic smile.

But then he frowned and gritted his teeth. “But then... Oh... It still wasn't enough for SOME people... You dare to called my craftily planned heists, as a 'shoplifting' act? Petty criminals and KIDS can do that!” He turned around and points at the woodpecker with that timing.

The woodpecker had his fists on his hips. “Funny you mentioned kids on this, cause your cousin told us about that time you tricked them into stealing the neighbor's gardening decorations just for fun. Are you putting more pressure in his life than it has to? His father and sister, or should I put it YOUR uncle and cousin-!” Bang! “JEEZES!”

The woodpecker dodged the gun shot just in time. The white cat still kept his cool head, but he still hides his anger inside. “What makes you think you have any rights to tell me how I should do and what to say? I bet my 'opinion' is far more convenient than yours and others.” He then puts it away in his jacket.

“There's no need to take your temper out on me! You almost put a bullet in my cheek bones!” Woody shouted at him. “You know that you'll be judged for that!”

“Ooooooooooh! I quiver with FEAR!” Alex sneered as he had one hand behind his back to untied his white whip belt.

“Easy, cat. We can still settle thing without violence.” Woody tried one more time to reason with him, but he got his answer with a quick attack of the whip. He barrel rolls out of the way and took out his pocket knife. “Remember, You ask for it.” The woodpecker responded.

Alex then attempted to lay the second attack by the neck, but the little bird was too quick for it, dodged and launches at him. The cat's eyes were widen with surprise when he didn't know of how fast he is! He's just as fast as his cousin,and they're both at the same level! But he was no slouch either! He was dodging the slashes the woodpecker was giving, despite that he was barely laying a slice, it was no easy task! How did his cousin deal with this loud beak in a fight? Is he gonna get even better than him?!

“Not again... He keeps-OOF!” The cat was thinking too much and it took him off guard. Woody had made a headbutt to his chin, then a left kick to his chest and then he finishes it off with a left sucker punch to his face in a blink of an eye combo! He stumbles flat to the ground. “Nyack!” The woodpecker took a breather for a few seconds and then got a bit more confident. He crossed his arms and said. “Well, Axie? Now will you hand it over or do you want to go for round two?”

The cat was quiet... then he started to laugh. That made the woodpecker's eyebrow rose with confusion. Then the cat started to explain as he got up... “I can see why my cousin is getting even better... I guess that I need to use my old bag of tricks that he wouldn't dare to use. He's was always too nice for his own good.” He then hissed, but this time, he lashes out his snake like tongue and his eyes were shining with gold and red ruby.

“WHAT THA HAWK?!” He screeched in fright as it send a chilling scare to the woodpecker and that lowered his guard down. Alex took the opportunity to do a payback as he laid some serpent techniques he learned over seas in his heists... He was very glad that he made a deal with his 'guardian' when the 'other' one had chose his cousin... He will get his revenge soon enough...

He then made one more blow as he palmed the woodpecker's chin and send HIM flat on his back. The guy didn't stood a chance when Alex unleashed his hidden talent... he was never warned that he's under Apophis' influence and his successor! Nor is anyone, at least not yet...

Alex then got up to him, stomped his left foot on his chest hard and he was smiling very eerie... Woody tried to get out of his predicament, but he then got his neck gripped with the cat's claws piercing a bit through it's gloves. He then tries to loosen his grip for air, but he got shocked when the cat grabbed his pocket knife that was probably got dropped when he was getting beaten up in round two.

He then said. “I'm glad that I have the chance to meet a friend of my cousin, too bad this would be our last talk. Send my regards to my deceased uncle and my older cousin on the other side. FAREWELL!” He took a back swing and attempted to impale the pocket knife right in the middle of the woodpecker's eyes. The cat's kill almost succeeded until...

A giant right hand caught his and he felt a gun's nuzzle at... his but?!? “Drop the knife before I blow your nuts and but cheeks off, Alex.” That accent... This evening is just getting worse!

He took a glance back to see if it IS that guy... He had an Elvis inspired black hair with a couple of pointy bangs, he had navy blue eyes, fairly pale skin, a bright, yellow sweater with blue sleeves, a white shirt underneath, a HORRIBLE colored blinded tie, a pair of brown pants and dark brown shoes. Yup, it's him.

He tsked and lets go of the woodpecker. Despite of what he looks, in his thirties and he's Canadian, he's not someone to be underestimated. He learned that lesson the hard and humiliating way... He then decided to play it safe and returned his eyes and tongue to normal. The tall man then puts away his gun.

“Well! Sam Toucan! What an unexpected surprise!” He playfully smiled and sweet talked him. “I still couldn't believed that my solitude of my cousin would still be popular enough to have some very unique friends like yourselves.” He made a pleading eye contacts with the toucan, but he wasn't easily fooled judging from his serious expression. “You were one inch away for getting a lawsuit of killing a fellow officer.”

The cat tried to play it innocently. “He was an officer? Oh! I feel simply awful!” He implied it while he clawed the metal wall next to him and it let out an eerie sound that made both of then winced. Especially to the woodpecker. The toucan was barely affected, just one eye flinched but nothing effective.

“Must have slipped my mind for when he was asking for the necklace.” He fling off some imaginary dirt from his gloves, pretending to be naive. The woodpecker then 'reminded' him with one step forward. “Well as 'slippery' as you are, as your police officer and your cousin's brother from another mother, I will politely ask you one more time to return it and we'll shall not gonna press any charge!” Alex responded with a snake tongue hiss and it made the woodpecker fall back with a surprisingly jolt.

“If you want want it, you better work even harder. Especially from me.” He hissed at the redhead. The toucan then cuts in with his long left arm between them. Protecting his bird friend obviously. “I don't think that's exactly what your parents meant when they said that.” Alex's eyes glared but he was still keeping his cool with an eerie smile. “If that was true, then it was my honest mistake.” He made a devil sign language before he turns around and started to leave.

“Don't turn your back on us, Alex. We're not done with you yet.” Sam demanded. Alex just looks back slightly to see them. “Oh no, Sammuel. Perhaps yourselves shouldn't turn your backs on me like others do...!!!” He got surprised when he turns back his head in the front and he bumped his face in the toucan's torso. Holey carp fish he was quick for a fairly, skinny guy. Not the first time, but it still threw him off an it bugs him. The toucan had his serious face on with his arms crossed and looks down on him. Alex grided his teeth and glared back. As much as he wanted to pull out his gun again, he can't.

Why? Because the woodpecker was behind him with his at the back.

“Are you resisting an officer of the law, again?” Sam raised his voice a bit and he was serious. “Temper Temper! I wouldn't even 'think' of 'resisting' either of you next to my cousin.” He sugar coated. “Funny. Then why now?” Woody asked.

“Well as far as our family ties go, Felix and I were always the shining star, but when it comes to certain thing...” He paused a bit to ease their position before he leaps high in the air and over Sam. Both guys immediately started to shoot once Sam took out his projectile needles he his under his sleeves. However, they were no match for Alex's belt whip as he twirled it like a performer with a ribbon flag. Alex landed on one of the higher crates and looks down on them one more time. “...Well, let's just say that's when we were set apart. Au revoir.” He then disappeared into the night.

The birds sighed in frustration and puts away their weapons. “Dang it! We almost had that sunavagun in the bag!”

“I think I now have a much better theory on why he's dead set on putting more pressure on Félix's life.” He rubbed his chin as he was thinking. “Oh? Do tell. I'm all ears.” Sam looked at the woodpecker with an raised eyebrow. Woody knew exactly what he was thinking and opened up his left side tailored coat to reveal the heart shaped sapphire. He gave a cocky smile and a thumbs up to say 'I still got it!'

Sam then smiled a bit and started his explanation. “I noticed when he started to talk about the family, he keeps it a bit vague but a bit more suggestive on how it was when they were little.” “Like what?”

“Before this, I had a few back stories of how Félix and Alex were as children. On one side from Félix's point of view, they were both treated like special. They both have similar talents like their grades and sports.”

“And on the 'other' point of view, Alex was probably not feeling the same way?” Woody guessed.

“Quite close. Judging from what he spoke tonight, I think when he was move and grew up in Australia is probably when things started to fall apart for Alex.”

“Huh? But Felix had said that Alex still did very well where he lived until he somewhat disappeared in his late teen. Is it one of those 'family's favorite' shtick? I mean, sure most of us have those, including mine when it's a big one, but we all see and acknowledge each other of our individuals and stuff like that.” Woody was confused but still has a point.

“True, but I think somewhere in that line Alex felt that Félix is much better than him in every way. I'm still not clear whether his parents didn't mean it like that or they are, but either way it makes him jealous of Félix. Especially when he took over custody of the kids and have a girlfriend. It makes him a much more responsible and respectable person to the family than he is, and it makes him even angrier and even more jealous.” Sam sighed and looks up to the night sky.

“Ay see. But why would he accomplish from when he became a career thief? If it's getting the best of the best and prove to the cat family that he's much 'better' or whatever, I don't think it would end well. Probably it's gonna send more fuel to the fire that's already burning and possibly ruin some special occasions like Christmas time or a family reunion.” Woody crossed his arms and tilted his head worried.

“Either way, we both need to be there for him and the kids. He's taking more weights than any guys at his age does and he barely has time to take care for himself.” Sam spoke. “You better believe it! He was there for me when I'm at the rock bottom of my life, changed me into a better person and I owe him my life for that kind of person!” Woody fired up.

“The only problem aside from Bendy and the second Alfonso mafia is obviously the evil twin cousin. We still have no definitive idea of what are we going to do with him.” Sam was troubled.

“Well for one thing, he'd make a very handsome throw rug for the couch.” Woody teased. “Woody.” Sam smirked. “Stay with me. He has white fur so yeah, it get easily dirty, but think of how much fun for us three, Felix included, is to take him outside and beat him.”

“Hahahaha Woody.” Sam calmly laugh at his little friend's idea.

They then retire for the night as they ended their search.

=====

And here’s my one shot series of the BBTIM universe of Marini4.

I just wanted to say that I never really liked Alex because he’s gonna cause more trouble to my precious cinnamon roll. No matter how much diamonds or priceless treasures he’s stealing or how cool he’s gonna look. 

But since he’s gonna be canon, might as well put him as the butt of my jokes! 

However, I decided to make this theory story with two of my OCs and also a back story theory idea for him.

I believed that Alex started to get jealous of Felix when his parents started to compare him to his twin cousin in possibly ‘everything.’ That might have triggered an event or set a goal for himself to prove he’s better than Felix so there’s a chance that he might have fled from home in his late teens. I’m still not clear between here and now when  he returned to America, only to found out about the news of the kids and his girl. That would fuel his jealousy even more when he’s getting even better than him and getting something even more special.

Also, I did wanted to mention another theory of Egyptian mythology with Bastet and Apophis as I’ve previously mentioned in ‘Golden Eye’ fanfic and posted fanarts in my blog.

If you read both the god and goddess descriptions, those two characters would have suit them very well! You’re free to check them out if you want.

Humanized Alex the cat belong to Marini4. OCs Sam Toucan and Woody McPecker belong to me.

[readerwinterbarnes]

Come Fly With Me

Bucky x Willow OFC

Summary: Sometimes it takes a new friend, a new discovery, a different adventure to help forget the past and fly towards new beginnings.

Word Count: 1,886

Warnings: Little angst, hurt Bucky, sad, fluff

A/N: I suck at summaries, but I hope you guys like this one. :)

Bucky’s been living in Wakanda for the past year recovering from his ties with Hydra. It wasn’t an easy process and it definitely wasn’t enjoyable. It was painful, having to relive his darkest memories in order to overcome them. But now, having to meet with therapists, training, and meditating with T’Challa was certainly helping.

T’Challa was working with Tony on getting Bucky pardoned of his past actions that were clearly not his doing, but Hydra’s. Trying to give him a clean slate, a fresh start on life. Of course the other Avengers, besides Steve, needed more convincing before they all agreed to have Bucky step onto American soil. And the results weren’t looking so good. T’Challa was more than fine with having Bucky live in his palace, under the protection of his country, even going so far as offering him permanent residence if he so chose. Bucky knew it would kill Steve if he decided to stay there permanently, but it looked like he wasn’t going to be welcomed back anytime soon. Free from Hydra or not, others still managed to hate him.

Thus the reason behind Tony’s and Steve’s visit to the king. They were informed of Bucky’s progress, how it seemed to be slipping, put on hold. He refused to talk to his therapists, his counselors, take part in anything as he started to shut the world out. This was two weeks ago.

T’Challa leads them outside, to the further gardens of the property, but still well within distance if a threat arose. “He’s been there most days, only coming in when he feels most at ease. However, he seems to bond immensely with our other guest as well.” T’Challa pointed towards a figure several feet away from where Bucky was sitting on a rock. The figure was watching as the birds flew in the sky, catching the wind with their wings.

Tony and Steve watch as the figure reach behind her and rub her shoulders, over the long vertical matted protruding scars exposed from her black tank top. Tony instinctively rubbed his chest where his arc reactor was. Even though it was gone, it still was matted with scars. So he could relate entirely, being self-conscious of what was permanently etched into your skin.

“Who’s that?” Steve asked T’Challa, who just gave a small smile before gesturing to an area in the garden where they could still and still observe the two.

“Her name is Willow, I found her in my garden one day watching the birds. She was no threat, but badly damaged in more ways than one. So I offered her shelter and protection.”

“And the scars? What happened there?” It was Tony’s turn to ask. They turned to T’Challa when he sighed heavily.

“That is where the damage starts I’m afraid. Willow is no ordinary human, she is a mutant. From what I gathered and of what she was willing to share with me, she had wings that could carry her through the sky, dance amongst the clouds, and soar through the trees. But her father thought differently.

He wasn’t an admirer of mutants and imagine his surprise when he found out his own offspring was one. He acted out in a deranged anger, cutting away the one thing that made her happy. So she ran, packed only the belongings that held value and never returned to Xavier’s school for gifted children, due to the fact how everyone stared at her and what was once there.” Tony and Steve sat there in mixed emotions of anger, pain, and sadness.

“So the bastard cut off her wings just because she was a mutant?” Steve huffed out angrily, trying his best not to want to hit something.

“From what she is willing to tell me, yes that is true. Though I believe he did much more, I do not wish to cause her more pain. She has been through enough.” The king turned to watch Bucky as he stood up from where he was sitting and slowly made his way towards Willow. This grabbed the king’s attention right away because Bucky has never made this action before. So the three men watched anxiously to see what he would do.

Bucky knew the reason why Tony and Steve were here, knowing that T’Challa informed them of his failing progress. He didn’t mean for his therapists to become frustrated when he refused to talk to them, share his feelings. It’s just some days were worse than others and some nightmares linger and take a hold of you for days on end. So Bucky always found himself drawn to the lush garden in the back of T’Challa’s palace, surrounded by the calming aroma of the flowers. He’d spend all to most of his time here, it wasn’t until last week he noticed he wasn’t alone.

After a while, he managed to gather the courage to walk up and talk to her. He found out her name was Willow, why she was here and why she was fascinated with birds. They met a few times whether inside or outside and just talked when they felt the need. Or when life became too much of a burden. How much physical scars still managed to haunt those who wore them? Completely ignoring the curious eyes, he sat down next to his quiet new friend.

“What does it feel like?” Due to his super hearing, he could hear the shocked gasps from the other three. Just because he’s not talking to them, doesn’t mean he’s not talking at all.

Honey amber eyes locked with his blue-grey ones as Willow turned to face her friend, brushing away her hair when the wind blew it into her face. “What does what feel like?”

“The clouds,” Bucky looked towards the sky where big fluffy clouds lazily floated past. “You told me you used to fly amongst them. Feel the cool droplets on your feathers.” His eyes dropped back down to Willow, watching as a nostalgic smile slipped on her face.

“They feel like a soft mist when they touch your skin. As if you are dreaming on the softest pillow you could ever find. And the air, the air was so clean, so pure. It was nothing I’ve ever felt before, but then I was strong enough to go that high. I felt so free.” Bucky could feel her heart break as she looked to the sky in longing. Desperately wanting to fly with the birds again, feel the wind in her face, see the beauty above all the death and destruction the Earth seemed to be covered in. Nothing but clouds and clear skies.

The three observers watched as Willow dropped her head onto Bucky’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. She curled up against him, making herself as small as she could. It was then, that Tony believed he could help Bucky’s friend. He made Bucky a new arm and with the help of Bruce and T’Challa’s finest, Tony believed he could help Willow gain what she lost.

It took time, but Tony and T’Challa were able to come up with a serum based off of her mutant DNA and fix a few strands. In the end, Willow was able to slowly grow out her wings. It wasn’t easy and it was very painful.

They had to make sure they grew out correctly and not crooked. After the damage her father did, they had to plan carefully and with precision. There was no room for error. A few months later, Willow was fully healed from the process. T’Challa, Tony, and Steve stood just outside the door leading to the backyard as they waited for Bucky to bring her outside.

It didn’t take long for the couple to step out the door and once Willow’s wings made contact with the sun, everyone stopped breathing. They were breathtaking, the sun’s rays making each feather shimmer like bronze. They watched as she spread out her wings, ruffling them to catch the sun’s warmth. Well, Bucky was the one that was truly watching. He noticed how the feathers fanned out as if they were trying to reach for the sun. How the muscles in her back moved along her shoulders as she stretched. Her breathing coming out smoothly, calmly, despite having the extra weight behind her.

He smiled fondly at her, as she tilted her head back, rolling her shoulders before looking behind her at them. With a twinkle in her eye, a huge smile on her face, she bolted. Running down the path, her wings moving as one as they pushed against the air. Bucky listened as her laughter echoed as she took off into the sky. Spreading her wings even further, soaring high amongst the clouds.

“Well, looks like she’s going to be just fine,” Tony said with a smile on his face. They watched as she came back down, expertly landing in front of Bucky.

“Come fly with me?” Willow held out her hands towards him, smiling eagerly. Bucky looked shocked, eyes darting between them and the others.

“What? H-How?”

“Come fly with me Bucky,” Willow wrapped his arm around her shoulders, her own wrapping around his waist, “just don’t let go.” With a few strong flaps of her wings, they were off the ground and soaring high up into the sky and way above the clouds. Bucky closed his eyes as he felt the wind blow across his face, as he breathed in the vast amount of fresh air. But wasn’t what made him gasp, it was what she brought him up to see.

His eyes grew wide as he looked across the horizon. Colors of purple, pink, red and orange clashed with blue as the sun began to set. It was remarkable, nothing like he’s ever seen before, not even a camera would be able to capture its beauty. He turned his head back to gaze at Willow, who was watching him contently.

“It’s beautiful. Is this what you saw every time you came up here?”

“Yeah, all the time. Even when a storms coming, I like to come up here and see it.” Bucky nudged his nose against hers, smiling lovingly at his girl.

“Thank you, doll, for sharing this with me.” He pecked her lips, sighing as she kissed back.

“Thank you for helping me, Bucky. For giving me hope and being the air beneath my wings, even though they weren’t there.” He kissed her forehead, settling his eyes back on the drooping sun. They stayed that way until the air became too chilly and Willow’s wings began to tire. As their feet touched solid ground, they were met only by T’Challa and his personal guards.

“Tony and Steve have left for their quarters and would like to share their congratulations. It is nice to see you happy Willow, and James?” Bucky looked questionably at the king.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“Welcome back.” T’Challa tipped his head out of respect, Bucky returning the gesture before he made farewell and headed back inside. It was good to be back, Willow got her wings back, Bucky found himself again and things were mending. It was very good to be back.

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