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blank-space-daisy13 · 3 years ago

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Why I won’t invite my biological father to my wedding.

I wanted to post this on Instagram or Facebook but I don’t want to deal with people saying I’m “drama.” But I wanted to write this out just in case someone is ballsy enough to ask me.

Let’s start off with the fact that after he got with my step mom, he wasn’t really around. He also never really cared or tried to take care of us (my brother and me) unless he absolutely had to.

Before my step mom and when we still lived in the apartment, On nights he had us my mom would drop us off already fed, he’d turn the tv on and go play on his computer until we had to go to bed. If he had us on a weekend, same thing. We’d wake up and he’d feed us breakfast, then tv with him in his room on the computer, lunch, tv, dinner, tv, and bed. When we moved from the apartment we stayed at his buddy’s house where he rented a room but guess what? He’d send us down to the basement all day to watch tv, and let us up for meals.

When my stepmom came into the picture, we started going to Canada. On every single one of his weekends. She was nice, at first. Sooner or later everyone shows their true colors. But she started slowly to get a hold of my dad. (My dad had no boundaries with us and she wanted to “help” my dad learn to discipline, but she’s a little extreme.) I once got punished for saying the word “butt” because we only say, “bum” and he yelled at me. Yelled. I was about 7 or 8. Then I heard my future step mother telling him how good he did. Also while we were there, I remember very few times we actually hung out with my dad. It was always being shoved into the playroom with my brother, future stepsister, and sometimes future stepbrother. (Step mom never had full custody of stepbrother.) We’d never leave the playroom other than for meals like the TV. But at least we weren’t rotting our brains, I guess.

After awhile he decided he wanted 50/50 custody. My stepmom at this point could be brutal emotionally. I remember getting yelled at for not knowing any of my immediate family member’s birthdays. I was about 8 or 9. Kind of shitty don’t you think? Going back to the wanting 50/50 custody, he didn’t actually want us. Looking back I understand this now. He just didn’t want to pay as much child support, and that’s probably the only reason my step mom agreed to this. They treated us (my brother and i) horribly. He moved close to my mom’s to prove he’d be willing to do the 50/50 custody, and at that point it was hell. If we did something wrong, immediately we’d get soap in the mouth. My brother later on was getting hot sauce. It would be for things such as, “not sharing with your step sister,” (which she would’ve lied about) or “talking back,” when as a kid I was asking a simple question about their rules. They had so many rules to the point you didn’t realize you were breaking a rule until they told you it was one. My *fondest* memory was when they’d send us kids to the basement for a few hours during the weekend and then got mad when we went through boxes and such to find toys to play with. Because when they first sent us down there, they sent us down there with nothing at all. Sure we probably shouldn’t have gone through boxes, where my brother and I found our toys that they never put with our step sister’s toys, but they sent us down there with nothing at all. They expected us to “imagine” things with no toys. I also got yelled at one weekend because they asked us to clean our bathrooms. (Step sister and I shared a Jack and Jill bathroom and my brother had his own bathroom as well.) We went and picked things up and went back to play. They both yelled at us and said, “If I had meant pick up I would’ve said pick up. I said CLEAN.” At this point I had never cleaned a bathroom in my life. They gave us the cleaning supplies and we went to work. I did what I thought was the best I could do and then my stepmom yells at me, “That wasn’t nearly long enough!!!! Haven’t you ever cleaned a bathroom before?!” Uh no ma’am, I was literally 10. But that was her favorite way to make us feel like shit. To yell, “Haven’t you done XY&Z before?” Or “You don’t know (blank)?! So disrespectful! You should know these things!” (That was said about the birthdays. Again I was a decently young kid.) But going forward, towards the end of them living there, they had a baby together, my other brother J.

Luckily for my brother and I, he eventually gave up going for the 50/50 custody. But with doing this, he left and we didn’t see him for a long time. 5-6 years approximately. I was 15 when he decided he wanted to see us again, and because of everything we had gone through before, we didn’t want to. I had a choice but my brother didn’t, and I was forced to go.

At this point he had married my stepmother, and was living in the same subdivision, and one road away, where had had a house with my mom when they were married. Kind of awkward but ok.

And I have to say, they were better. To a point. They wanted us to feel bad that we didn’t want to be there. At the time I had a really old phone, not a smart phone, that didn’t lock, but they expected my phone to be on the counter at 9pm every night. They read my texts and held them against me, but when I called them out on reading my texts, they told me I was crazy. I would text my friends that I didn’t want to be there, and that I was uncomfortable. They asked me, “Why don’t you want to be here? Why are you uncomfortable? We understand what we did in the past was wrong, but the past is the past and you have to forgive us!” (One wrong thing I was always taught was you always have to forgive. You don’t always have to forgive for things that hurt you.) Finally at the end of this period, they sat us down and tried to make us feel bad by saying, “If you don’t want to be here, we don’t want you here. We want you to want to be here.” At 15 I tried to explain why this was hard, but they didn’t care. It wasn’t their way so they weren’t ok with it.

Fast forward to my Senior Year of high school, I don’t remember how, but my father and I got in touch. My step mom wanted nothing to do with me because of a dumb YouTube video I made at 14 where I “talked shit” about her daughter and herself. Yes, I did, but who didn’t do something dumb at 14? I wasn’t allowed around their house because HER son had a “drug problem.” (Marijuana) Whatever, I didn’t care. Slowly we lost touch because I was the only one calling, and I got sick of it. I was done. But I was still young.

Fast forward to me being a sophomore in college. I was 20 or 21. My brother had an issue that got the police and CPS involved. My father decided to text me and ask me what was going on. I called him and told him that he had “no fucking reason to know what was going on” because he was never around. He gaslighted me into feeling bad because I cussed him out for 10 minutes. But we kept contact after that because I had thought about it and I wanted to get to know my little brother J more. We did lose contact again but then we gain it back later on.

Skip forward a couple years and I’m talking to my cousin, (another thing was he kept us from his side of the family and I had lost contact with most of them until I was an adult.) my cousin told me he was going to MY little BABY sister’s 1st birthday. My father had been talking to me for a few months at this point and NEVER mentioned I had a baby sister. He told me, “I thought your aunt posted about it. I saw it on Facebook and assumed you knew!” It doesn’t matter whether I saw it on Facebook or not. He should’ve told me. But whatever, I let that go too.

Here is where I get frustrated. I wouldn’t call for a couple weeks because I didn’t think about it. I’ve only seen him twice in the past 9 years. But he would blame me for us not talking, when he’d never call or try to talk to me. It drives me crazy when people think like that. It’s not just my responsibility and mine alone.

Skip forward to a few months ago when he brought up politics. I hated this because I’m mostly liberal/democrat and he’s 100% republican. He called liberals “libtards” and goes, “you’re not a libtard are you?” And when I tell him it’s offensive he says, “It’s just a joke!” But now we’re here and yet again it’s been 2 or 3 months since we’ve spoken because he’s blocked my number. It goes straight to voicemail and my texts aren’t going through as iMessages. I’ve decided after trying for over two months, he’s uninvited to the wedding. He’s never met my fiancé, ever. We were only inviting him to be civil. But if he can’t even speak to me, I feel it’s not my problem, and it’s one less drama issue to worry about at the wedding.

My family can believe what they want. There are so many things left out of this 15 year drama circle of my father just disappearing. And I don’t care anymore. I hope someone asks why he wasn’t invited because I know for a fact he’ll be at least telling the whole family that he wasn’t invited. And I don’t mind sending them this so they can know why.

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hiinnys · 4 years ago

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full hearts, empty hallways

(for @geekspen: two things - (1) i’m fully aware that this is literally a month late and i’m so sorry - uni took over my life in depressing ways (2) i’m also fully aware that this is not a muggle au for which only my brain can be blamed and i swear to get you one of those if school ever lets up or i get better at time management. hope you like whatever this is, you’re a darling <3)

she can hear the crowd even from where she’s pacing, just outside the locker room. usually, it’s one of her favorite things, the electricity racing through the stadium - it’s the thing she’s always loved about quidditch. but tonight’s not just any night. they’re one game away from playing at the world cup - one game away from ginny literally making quidditch history as the first player to carry her team to a world cup in her first season. it’s not the potential for an accolade that’s got her so damn nervous. it would be great, sure - a fantastic thing to rub in the faces of arseholes who thought she wasn’t good enough to be where she is now - but she’s had enough accolades in her life (and what the hell did the arseholes know anyway?).

it’s the very real possibility that she’s gonna fuck up. it would be easy to - one wrong move, one missed goal, and she’d have to watch the faces of the teammates she’s grown to love so much sink in disappointment. the thought terrifies her, so she continues wearing a hole in the concrete floor, praying for some sort of miracle.

“weasley,” and gwenog’s marching up to her, blazing look of confidence ginny wishes she had a fraction of right about now. her hands land on ginny’s shoulders, stilling her pacing for a minute. “remember the strategy, yeah?”

“yeah,” as if it’s possible for ginny to forget after the near month of drilling it into her mind and body. she’s fairly sure she could reenact their practices play by play in her sleep by now. distantly, she supposes that’s the point.

“then you’ve got nothing to worry about, kid. just play your heart out and we’ll be onto the cup in two weeks, yeah,” gwenog pauses, waits for ginny to nod, squeezes her shoulders. “that’s my girl.”

she walks back to the locker room, leaves ginny to mumble the plays to herself.

“stealing my plays, weasley? because i’m pretty sure i came up with that exact strategy sixth year,” he lowers his voice at the end, like he’s telling her the most important secret in the world, so she forces herself to suppress the tooth-rotting smile she wants to wear in favor of a raised eyebrow and a barely there smirk, just to play along.

“you wish you came up with such good strategy,” she turns around to look at harry - her harry, with his furrowed brows and mischievous eyes, her harry, who is definitely not even supposed to be in the country right about now.

“pretty sure my strategy worked out alright,” he’s got this smirk, all cocky self-assurance, and she knows he’s thinking about a kiss in a common room a million years ago.

“that was all luck and you know it,” she whispers back, and they let the silence settle around them for a moment, breathing in the same space for the first time in weeks. “aren’t you supposed to be in bulgaria?” she asks after a minute (or maybe it’s been a year, who really knows?). he affirms her question with a short nod, a gentle mhmm.

“and if anyone happens to ask, i am in bulgaria,” he comments, rather innocently for someone who’s disobeying at least ten different orders from his superiors just by standing in front of her. “i wasn’t gonna miss this.” and he’s standing there, hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking impossibly young and at ease, and it’s so simple - nothing else in the world is, but they are.

“aren’t you up for a promotion in a couple weeks,” she questions because she’s not ready to let this go - to let this moment end. “seems stupid, risking your spot for a chance.” a chance we win - a miracle, really.

“it is stupid to risk my spot for a chance,” he responds easily. “entirely different conversation to risk it for a sure thing.” she falters and the fear’s back in her heart, pumping through her veins where the blood’s supposed to be.

“it’s not a sure thing. what if i fuck up?” she whispers the last bit, as if it’s too much to say aloud.

“you’re not gonna fuck up,” he whispers back, walking closer to her for the first time since he entered the room, but she doesn’t notice. she’s too busy thinking about all the ways she can screw this up to notice the way he’s looking at her - like he’ll explode if he doesn’t make her understand.

“what if i do,” ginny insists.

“then you hang up your kit for off season, come back in four months and try again,” he shrugs, hands leaving his pockets and coming to rest on her neck, his thumbs curving under her jawbones. “first shot doesn’t mean only shot, gin.”

“after making it this far? that’s one hell of a way to disappoint everyone, isn’t it?”

“not everyone. i’d still be proud of you,” he whispers and there’s something in his voice, something in him, because she’s finally looking at harry, brown eyes on green, and she can’t hear the crowd anymore. can’t feel the fear. can only feel him.

“yeah?” she asks quietly but he gives her this look, like she’s just asked him the dumbest question in the world, and for the first time that night, ginny feels like she can actually win. (maybe she’s already won, she thinks offhandedly.) “even if it’s the worst game i’ve ever played?” she teases, waits for him to nod, then:

“even if i don’t make a single shot?” another nod and a ghost of a smile on his face that sets her heart running. “even if it’s worse than that one game in fifth year?” and she knows that it’s playing in his head, that he can see himself, back on a broomstick, yelling at mclaggen, twenty seconds away from injury from the way he grimaces.

“that’s a pretty hard record to beat,” he breathes in between a quiet laugh. “but, yeah, even then.”

she can’t help not touching him anymore, fully aware that this is the closest they’ve been in awhile but overly conscious of the fact that, for once, she can’t afford to have her head swimming in him, so she stands up straight and touches her forehead to his. immediately, his eyes close and she smiles to herself, just for a second reveling in what she does to him, before closing her eyes too.

“you staying for the game?” she whispers, expecting a response but instead feeling him grab her hand and move it to his back pocket. there, her hands close on what she had thought was air, but now she knows is his cloak. he’s silent the entire time, a conversation he only wants them to hear: you won’t be able to see me, but i’ll be there. i promise. she can hear gwenog calling for the team to line up, but she doesn’t move, not yet.

“you need to change your play,” it’s still a whisper, but this time it’s urgent, enough for her to open her eyes in confusion, and see him in full auror-mode. she can practically hear his brain working, processing strategy after strategy, making plan after plan. “you’ve used those moves the past four games, mercer’s gonna expect it.”

the panic’s back, muted only because harry’s hands are on her. “what do i do instead?”

“you’re the professional,” he shrugs, a soft smile finding its place on his lips. “trust your gut.”

she can hear gwenog calling her name now, knows she’ll be out here any second to bring ginny in, but her eyes stay locked on harry’s. he leans in slightly - barely moves at all really - lips just about to touch hers, when the door opens and he pulls back, somehow managing to get the cloak on himself without leaving anyone the wiser. if this was another time, she’d be impressed. but, as it happens, reality comes crashing back in the second he pulls away and she’s very aware that her time’s up. she’s nodding at whatever gwenog’s just said, and following her into the door when she feels it - the whisper of his hand, a soft squeeze, and maybe this was the miracle she was praying for.

#yes this is trash #lets not talk about it #there's a part two somewhere in my head #lmk if you want it #leave a comment if you'd like #its my only form of validation #fuck jkr #hp #hinny #hinny fanfic #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry potter fanfic

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emerald-studies · 4 years ago

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Racism in Education

June 27, 2020

Day 6 of 7

[ These are just some thoughts I have in my head about this topic, it isn’t meant to be a purely academic discussion. It’s meant to be a conversation to learn about another perspective. ]

—-

Ok this will be my most challenging post. This is a long read but I’d appreciate you reading it all because I’ve been doing free emotional labor for almost a month and if you want to be an ally, that means learning from other perspectives. So please read. This drained me so much to write, please make it worth it.

You have the time, please read.

As I stated in my intro, I moved from a very conservative State (I don’t even want to say the State because I hate it so much.) to Washington State. I moved after graduating online school a year ago.

Growing up in that State I was almost always the only Black girl in my class. For my whole educational career. I hated when we would discuss the civil rights movement because I could feel my White peers staring at me, like I was the face of my race.

It was junior year that broke me.

I began the year optimistic. I always did, even though I had experienced racism before each year, pushing me to move to 4 different schools in 4 years.

I moved to a school in a rural area with a lot of mormons and maybe 5 Black people in the whole, huge school.

It was in September that my mental health plummeted. I don’t know why. I guess I was overwhelmed. I was in an AP US History class and there was work over the summer that everyone else did, but I didn’t. I had just gotten there, after all. I didn’t have the textbook. That class was such a heavy workload that we were having a quiz every other day, 1 test a week, and I was trying to study for a test that my peers had months to study for, and already took.

I attempted to take my life, but I knew I didn’t really mean it. I’ll be honest about that. I just wanted everything to stop so I could catch my breath.

I went to the ER on a Thursday night. My Mom drove me.

We sat in the ER for a little bit and then I was taken to a little room where a nurse came to talk to me. BTW I have never had a good interaction with a nurse.

This nurse came in and basically shamed me.

“You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

Yeah, no shit. I thought about that every day. My grades, getting into college, getting into law school.... that’s the point. I was overwhelmed.

She suggested that I punch a pillow if I “Got upset” because that’s what her daughter does.

Fuck off.

The Doctor came in and he gave me butterfly bandages and he was so much more understanding, shockingly. (I’ve shadowed Surgeons and Doctors and they can be a little abrasive).

I liked that the Doctor fixed me up. I liked having this wrap around my wrist. I felt like I could move on. Like I let something out.

The Doctor asked if I needed to stay at this place that dealt with cases like mine.

I said,

“No.”

I couldn’t have that on my record for what I want to do. So, I went home.

I took the Friday off and my Mom visited the school to let them know what happened. I was already preparing for pity.

I had to come in on Monday to set up a 504 (students with disabilities act) for depression. I don’t think I had depression, but whatever. I dropped out of AP US History.

They made accommodations for me: more time on tests, working in the library, more time on assignments, etc.

I want you to know that I did not touch those accommodations for 5 months.

I knew I didn’t need them. I maintained a 3.8 GPA.

I sat in a room with all 8 of my teachers (we had a block schedule 4 classes per day alternating), seeing all of them look at me with disgusting levels of pity.

They each talked to me in private saying things like,

“If you ever need anything, let me know.”

“I’m here for you.”

“You matter.”

I thought,

“Hm ok, that’s nice.”.

I went on for months without using my accommodations and practically wooping my “normal” classmates in intellectual discussions.

But then the casual racism I experienced was escalating.

First, in the beginning of the year, my AP US History teacher put his hand on my head and said to a student,

“If you really believe that, Faith would be a slave right now.”

(I don’t remember what the hell we were even talking about)

Then I got little questions/comments like,

“Why do you dress White?”

“Cracker is just as offensive as the n-word”

But now we were going into Black History Month. My new history teacher was an old White Man and we were talking about the civil rights movement, while in English we were reading “Black Like Me” with my blonde, Female, millennial teacher.

I nailed everything in the civil rights movement discussions. The teacher loved me. I nailed the conversations about “Black Like Me”.

But....I don’t know. The environment got really toxic. There was more racism, gaslighting, slurs. Every. single. day. It could break anyone.

I would be on the brink of tears in class every day.

Guess who didn’t notice?

All 8 of those concerned teachers.

They don’t give a shit.

My grades were still pretty good, but I started working in the library. I couldn't be around all of those racist peers.

While in the library, my counselor would come in and interrogate me.

“How long have you been in here?”

“Have you tried, really tried to go to class?”

Of course I tried! I felt like I wanted to be dead and so I left. That’s what the 504 Plan was for. Again, I hadn’t touched my accommodations for months so I thought maybe these grown adults would use their tiny brains and think,

“Huh maybe she needs help.”

But no.

I would go to the counselor almost every day and say

“I’m not doing well.”

And she’d ask,

“What does that mean?”

Ok...so I have to tell this Woman that I feel like dying but not at my own hand? Because she can’t use social cues and read my face stained with tears?

I couldn’t say anything.

She said,

“What can we do to keep you going here?”

I said,

“I don’t know”

Because that’s not my job.

Then it happened.

My history teacher was talking about affirmative action.

He said,

“If I worked at a bank for 30 years and went to work at another bank, FAITH would get a job over me because she’s a BLACK WOMAN. Do you get that? She covers TWO minorities!”

He said this while pointing his wrinkled finger in my face.

None of my peers said anything.

I replied with,

“Well, what are my qualifications?”

He ignored me.

He went on a rant teaching his opinions, not facts. So I wrote down what he said on sticky notes.

I called my Mom at break and asked her

“Is that racist? Do I do anything?”

I was so desensitized to racism I couldn’t tell anymore.

My White Mom, my awesome Mom said,

“YES.”

I went to the Vice Principal and reported the teacher and gave her the sticky notes.

The next day we got an email from the principle saying that the teacher said, he never said anything about me.

So I was a liar?

To get evidence, I recorded the whole next class. I was scared every minute that he would find out.

He didn’t. And he said more awful things.

I had concrete proof.

We told the Principal and he ignored me. My Mom emailed the superintendent (very high up person in the school district) and oh now he responds?

They basically said,

“We gave him a warning, he won’t do it again.”

Ok so he just will hide his racism now. Just remember, teachers legally aren’t allowed to teach their opinion. The Supreme Court deemed it unconstitutional to teach opinions.

I was still required to go to this racist Man’s class. I still answered every question he posed to the class and he recognized my intelligence.

So WHY?

WHY me?

The whole year he loved having me as a student and then....that?

Moving on to my English class.

We had to do a cultural experience trip and so my acquaintance and I went to the Black History Museum. Because I’m Nigerian-American. I do identify as Black though because everyone assumes it anyways, but I wanted to learn more about the history in my city.

We were required to make presentations talking about the experience we had. I decided to add a little twist.

I made a whole slide in my slideshow dedicated to every racist thing said to me in that class.

The slide was met with laughter because racism is just so funny.

My teacher said nothing.

So I, the student, the minor in the room, had to say,

“I see you laughing but this is why I’m leaving this school. This is serious.”

Nothing from my teacher.

Cut to maybe a week later and I was done. I was sitting in my English class about to burst. My acquaintance asked me,

“Are you doing ok?”

I replied,

“No. Absolutely not.”

A classmate checked in on me, while all my 8 teachers who actually knew about my attempt on my life didn’t.

We went outside and I decided to leave the school that day. Three weeks before summer break. I couldn’t be in either class anymore. I felt my brain rotting from being exposed to the absolute shit that those students/teachers would spew, every day.

I lost my 3.8 GPA

I lost my credits for the semester.

The racist teacher is still working.

I had to go online.

It happened again.

Another racist history teacher.

Wasn’t removed.

I graduated with a lower GPA.

Didn’t apply to my dream school.

I have the trauma seared into my brain. I’m terrified of taking another history class. Terrified.

Ok, that’s it. If you made it this far, thank you. It took me awhile to write this. I hope this gave you another perspective.

So.... discussion time.

Let me know what you think here

I’d like to hear from you since I delved into my trauma.

I don’t think I’ll ever tell this story again, it makes me sick and tired. But I’ll answer questions/asks.

If you have a lot of White guilt and wanna do something, you could donate some reparations to my venmo lol:

@faithrebecca1397 (last 4 digits are 4809)

or paypal

http://www.paypal.me/faithrebecca1397

Edit: People are asking me if they can reblog this. YES PLEASE REBLOG. It’s important to let people know that all types of racism are alive and well.

#blm #black lives matter #education #academia #black women matter #discussion #racism #history #mental health

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aspiring-ginger · 5 years ago

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Forget-Me-Not Ch.1 (Jaskier x Reader)

Summary: Y/n is a college student who stumbles into the world of the witcher. Part 1 of ???

Warnings: Depression, mental illness, swearing

Word count: 2,823

Pairing(s): Jaskier x fem!reader, platonic Geralt x fem!reader

A/N: Hi guys!! I’ve recently fallen deep into the witcher hell! Having read many modern girl in Thedas fics for dragon age, I figured I’d try my hand at a modern girl in the continent sort of fic! This is my first fic so I apologize for any errors. Feedback always appreciated! Enjoy!

Masterlist I Next I

You stood up from your spot on the bed with a stretch, wondering how long you’ve been caught up in your work this time. Final exams were coming up and you knew you needed to study quite a bit for that one damned class where the professor just hated your guts. You scoffed at your understatement.

“Hates the whole world and the concept of fun itself, more like”, you grumbled to yourself as you collected various notes and papers strewn about the blankets.

It was nearing the end of fall semester of your second year of college, so time was quickly ticking by until the time came for you to choose your major. You opted to go in undecided, with a plan to get as many generic classes over with first. Frankly, you still had no idea what to choose, and you thought it was ridiculous that you were expected to decide the fate of your whole adult career just based on a few classes.

You checked the time, 1:47 am. Stuffing everything back into your backpack, you debated whether you should just call it a night and go to bed, or stay up for just a little bit longer doing something you enjoy before bed. You knew it was probably a good idea to go to sleep but you just couldn’t help that itch in your brain that needed some fun. Netflix released their newest series The Witcher which you were very excited for, and had gone and played all of the games in preparation and to get a feel for the world. Obviously you fell in love with the story and you couldn’t wait to watch the show, but you had shown some restraint and restricted yourself from watching any of it until after finals were done because, let’s be honest, you knew you would get sucked in and binge the whole entire thing instead of studying.

It wasn’t too late at night, there have definitely been much later nights this week, plus you had done such a good job actually studying instead of putting everything off until the last minute….. it wouldn’t hurt to watch just one episode, would it? You glanced around the room, noting that your roommate wasn’t there. Right. She said she was studying with her boyfriend and wouldn’t be home that night. “Studying”. You shrugged and changed into your pajamas, then hopped back into bed with a laugh. All your friends had been talking about this show and now you could actually participate in their conversations! You quickly settled in, switched on your tv, and started the first episode.

Your mind was absolutely racing. What a great way to end the season!! You’d been on the edge of your seat waiting to see what would happen to Tissaia and Yennefer, and your heart just melted at the sight of Geralt and Ciri finally meeting. You grabbed your phone to text your best friend all about it when-

“Oh FUCK,” Your lock screen showed the time, 10:03 am. You missed your fucking 8 am class, the one you had just spent all that time studying for, because you did the exact fucking thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t do. Thankfully it was only a review day before the final, but it was the last review day before the final, and you still had questions on the material. You groaned and slumped down in your bed, burying your face into your pillow.

’Such a fucking idiot, I cant believe this is fucking happening,’ you thought, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes, ’of course I would do this, this is just so me. Fucking stupid and dumb and worthless and-’

Your spiraling thoughts of self loathing were interrupted by your roommate opening the door and slipping into your shared room. You reluctantly picked up your head when you heard her call out your name with a sigh.

“Really (y/n)? You fall asleep studying again? You really should set an alarm or something, didn’t you miss your early class or whatever?” She asked as she plopped down on her bed, kicking off her shoes. “I know you were super stressed about studying this year but jeez- oh come on. Netflix? Really? What happened to ms ’I’m going to do such a good job studying this semester and kissing professor what’s his face’s ass so I get a good grade’?” She mocked.

Your cheeks burned as you tried to subtly wipe off the tears streaked down your face “Look I actually have been doing a better job at keeping up with my work and everything this semester, so I can stand to take a fucking break every once and awhile!” You huffed

Your roommate rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Seriously? Haven’t you missed like 15 classes or something? Just stop kidding yourself and accept that you’re just not going to get that good of a grade, dude. Plus can’t you just play the whole depression card and get like, an extended deadline or something? Pft, I wish I could have something like that. My life would be sooo much easier. Ugh. Whatever. I’m going to take a nap, I’m tired. If you need to cry go do it somewhere else or I will throw a pillow at you,"

You flipped her off and got out of bed. You still had 2 more classes to go to, and those review packets weren’t going to do themselves. You got ready with a sigh. It was going to be a long day.

You sat down on a bench outside, having just finished your last class of the day. It had been pretty miserable as you predicted, your brain just absolute mush after staying awake for so long. Your temper was definitely shorter, and you had snapped at your friends way more than you should have. You had just paused to take out your earbuds and put on some music for the walk back to your dorm, when you felt a pit settle at the bottom of your stomach. You knew you definitely needed sleep, but that wouldn’t explain your sudden feeling of unease. You sat up and glanced around you, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was only late afternoon but already dark out, and there weren’t many students around. You put your headphones in and adjusted your coat, trying to ignore that feeling and started your walk back home.

As you walked, you could have sworn you saw someone following you out of the corner of your eye, but each time you turned around there was nothing but the usual barren trees and dull leaves covering the sidewalk. You reassured yourself that if somebody actually was following you, you’d be able to hear them crunching the leaves behind you. Even though you were listening to your music. Right. Everything was fine.

You nervously fiddled with the straps of your backpack as you paused to double check behind you. Again, there was nothing there, but you still had that sinking feeling in your stomach and it had only been getting worse as you kept going. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, and you could’ve sworn you heard something rustle the leaves behind you- you whipped your head back around and there was still nothing. It then crossed your mind that even though it was dark, there definitely should be people around. Classes should be ending and students should be walking home, but there was no one. You began to pick up your pace, going into a nervous jog. Your building was almost in sight, just a few more minutes and then you’d be safe- a hot bolt of terror hit and you broke into a sprint. You didn’t dare look behind you as you ran, you didn’t even know why you were running but you had a feeling that you should. You felt hot breath against the back of your neck and something claw against your back. You pushed yourself to run faster, your blood pounding in your ears along with your music.

Your feet stomped across the sidewalk, almost there you could almost see your dorm! These damn leaves were everywhere, so many that you couldn’t even make out where the sidewalk ended and the grass began. Your foot slipped, ankle rolling as you fell face first into the leaves. You scrambled back up and continued running, your headphones now hanging around your neck. You spat out leaves as you cursed, weaving between trees that began to slow you down. Wait. Trees? You glanced to where various classrooms and dorms should’ve been, now replaced with thick, dense trees on all sides. You still heard the- the thing, whatever it was, behind you. You felt it’s hot sickly breath on your neck. You could smell the rotting stench of decay and blood. You heard it’s ragged panting and inhuman whine. It’s claws swiped at your back once more, and you seethed in pain. Your ankle was on fire and you didn’t know how much further you could run.

Suddenly you heard the distinct sound of metal clanging behind you, followed by a wet squelch. You turned your head to look, still running forward, daring to get a glimpse of what possibly could be chasing you. You caught a flash of silver and black and brown before you collided into a tree and everything went black.

You heard muffled conversation when you briefly regained consciousness. It was loud and rushed and sounded like arguing? You couldn’t make out any words so you tried to turn your head in the direction of the noise, but found that task much more difficult than you thought. You huffed at the fogginess of your mind and the shouting came to an abrupt stop. Though you couldn’t open your eyes, you felt the presence of someone in front of you. You heard a murmur of something you couldn’t quite catch- and you slipped back into a deeper sleep.

When you woke for the second time it was a lot quieter than the first. You could hear the crackle of a fire and the wind rustling through leaves above, and smell the smoke from the fire and the damp earth below. There was also a soft melody coming from somewhere to your left, chords plucked out on an instrument you couldn’t quite recognize. You could also hear the grating sound of metal on metal. Was someone sharpening a blade? You groaned as you tried to sit up. Though your body felt stiff and your head full of cotton balls, your muscles responded accordingly. The music came to a stop as you blinked awake.

"Uhh, Geralt? I think she’s awake now, for real. Could you please not use your witchery magic on our mysterious guest so we can actually, I dunno, talk to her? Ask her some questions? Instead of just rushing ahead with your steel or silver- oh alright then,” A voice called out, and you heard the crunch of footsteps coming towards you.

You looked to the source of the voice and found a brown haired man holding a funny looking guitar standing in front of a log near a campfire. You rubbed your eyes and realized no, that wasn’t a guitar but a mandolin? Lute? Some weird instrument, so he must’ve been the source of the music. He was dressed in a dark blue matching set of… some sort of renaissance costume? His jacket was undone and he wore a plain white shirt underneath, the top of which was unlaced so a few strands of chest hair poked out. His loose yet tight fitting pants were tucked into a pair of tall leather boots. He sure looked committed to his costume, even holding a quill in his other hand.

Your attention was quickly turned to the man approaching you. He had long silver hair, half pulled back, and was dressed in all black. His outfit matched the same renaissance theme as his friend, though less showy and more practical. His tight leather pants, rolled up sleeves, and very realistic looking sword were certainly eye catching, but what drew you in the most were his eyes. They were a bright golden color, and his irises had a slight curve to them that almost reminded you of a cat’s. You realized that they must be cosplayers who already have costumes from the new show. They were both very high quality, and the special attention to detail was amazing.

The Geralt cosplayer knelt down in front of you, his hand gripping your shoulder tight.

“Who are you and where did you come from?” He demanded with a very accurate impression of the Geralt voice.

“I-I uh,” you cleared your voice “My name is (y/n) and I’m from (hometown). I was just walking back from class to my dorm when this thing started chasing me and I was running and- wait, what happened to it? Where am I? And why the hell are you guys dressed like that what’s going on?! Is this some sort of prank or something? Or- or a photoshoot? I don’t understand,”

You tried to scooch back away from the strange man, but his grip stayed strong and he just narrowed his eyes.

“Oh the Ekimmara? Geralt already delt with it, my lady, don’t you fret. You’re safe now with us,” The Jaskier lookalike piped up from his log.

The Geralt sighed, “Yes, the Ekimmara is dead. You reek of magic and your clothes are strange, yet I can sense that you’re not a mage. Who are you?”

You had to admit, their costumes were amazing and their impressions were flawless. They even looked strikingly similar to the real actors.

“Look I already told you. I was at school, something chased me, and I woke up here. I’m already having a shitty day with my classes and college bullshit, and I just want to go home. Your cosplays are very nice, but I really don’t have time for this,”

“College? As in Oxenfurt University? I’ll have you know I just graduated from there before running into Geralt here, but I can’t say I recognize you. Are you perhaps in more art and painting classes? Although I am, of course, a master of the seven arts- poetry and song are much more my strong suit,” The Jaskier said, walking up.

“Jaskier,” Geralt warned with a glare, removing his hand from your shoulder.

“Look I get it! You really have the characters down. Can I please just go home now?” You shifted away from Geralt. You realized you weren’t wearing your coat, instead it had been draped across you acting as a makeshift blanket as you sat on a bed roll.

“Characters? My lady, are you alright? See, Geralt? I told you to go easy with the axii nonsense, now she’s confused.” Jaskier exclaimed with a scoff.

Geralt narrowed his eyes at you and put his sword down.

“What? I’m not confused!” You protested “You even have the Jaskier attitude down perfect. Can I go now? Or you at least tell me where we are?”

“You know my name? How do you know who I am, I haven’t even introduced myself yet! I know I’ve played at many of the local taverns, but I would’ve recognized a face so lovely as yours,” Jaskier tried to mask his unease with his usual flirtatious remarks.

Geralt held a hand up for Jaskier to stop talking “Who do you think we are, and what do you know of us?”

“Well that’s easy,” you scoffed. “You’re dressing up as Geralt of Rivia. You know witcher, white wolf, travelling with your best friend Jaskier. And then you would be Jaskier-or Dandelion but I think you’re aiming for more Jaskier.”

Jaskier looked stunned, while Geralt pressed further “Dressing up as?”

“Yes. Cosplaying, whatever term you want to use. And you’re doing a great job acting like them too, but you can cut it out now. It was cool, but now it’s just getting old."

"So…you think we’re acting? Playing the roles of Geralt and myself? We’re not characters, we’re real. And I’m not his best friend. A friend definitely, but he would never admit it. What do you know us from?”

“The Witcher. The show, the games, the books. They’re super popular again. I think it’s even back on the charts for top selling fantasy or something."

Geralt and Jaskier exchanged looks.

"Geralt, why don’t you show her something to prove that you’re the real deal. Something only a witcher could do?”

Geralt raised his hand and traced a symbol in the air. A small ball of flame appeared in his hand, which he stretched out towards you. You could feel the heat from the fire against your skin and you looked at the two men in shock.

“What the fuck?!”

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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 4 years ago

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Other Writing Prompts

This is just a compiled list of prompts I’ve collected from Pinterest and other random places, but don’t particularly fit anywhere or just would only fit into the Marvel or Star Wars fandoms. I have other prompt lists that get more specific or more vague as well. If you want to use one in a request to me, just use the following ‘Character Name and Prompt No. 35 from the Other Prompt list’ for example + some details if you’d like.

I didn’t organize this list by mood since it’s about 200 prompts.

Key:

‘*’ Denotes something that could be used as dialogue.

[*] Denotes a swear word that I removed.

One evening, a portal to hell opens at the foot of your bed. A demon strides through, rips off your covers, and begins to drag you through the portal by your ankles saying, "you're going to help me settle a bet."

"But what is power?" "Loyalty"

The girl wrote in the journal as fluidly as fish swam in the sea, or birds rode the wind. It was beautiful, how gracefully she crafted her spells.

"You do know that when you wipe my memories, it doesn't actually work, right? One of the perks of being me." The villain froze at the hero's words. They'd just attempted their grand entrance four times in a row, trying to anticipate the hero's response. Blanking their brain when they didn't quite get it perfect. First impressions were important. PR won battles as much as soldiers did. "Don't worry," the hero grinned, looking the villain up and down slowly. "You're doing great. Very impressive." Now they definitely had to die.

The villain prowled closer, gaze intent. "Mm. The last time someone looked at me like that, we didn't get out of bed all weekend. Good times." "Cute bravado, it won't save you." "You're blushing."

"You could be so brilliant if you only turned your mind to creating things instead of destroying them." The hero murmured. They paused to tighten the villain's restraints, before glancing up to catch their eyes. "I've never seen anything like you. You're stunning." It was so earnest that, for once, the villain didn't quite know what to say. The hero wet their lips, practically on their knees. "Just let me help you, please. You'd be a terrible waste to the world rotting."

"Oh, I could just take you apart. See how long that cold, untouchable reputation of yours lasts then. You're trying so hard to pretend you're not even human, but look at that..." The hero pressed a hand above the villain's heart. They both felt it pounding far too clearly. This was not supposed to happen. There was a reason nobody was supposed to get close.

"If you want me," the hero panted, "come and get me." The villain paused, languidly sweeping a hand up and under their chin. "Want you in which way, Darling? Don't get me wrong, both involve ropes, but it's an important distinction to make before we proceed."

You're a villain that fell in love with a hero. Though the strongest villain on the planet, you constantly lose to your hero, since you just love the rivalry and don't want it to end. As you are being arrested one day, your hero is attacked by another villain; one too strong for them to beat.

Stab options: Slowly raise their hand to the wound and/or pull out the weapon impaling them while everyone stares in horror before collapsing to the ground from shock and/or blood loss and being caught just in time by a friend/lover.

Hide the wound beneath a dark item of clothing in preparation for the dramatic reveal later where another character touches them and their hand comes away bloody or they overexert themselves and they stumble and wince but still try to insist that they're fine,

even though they are clearly in pain and struggling to stay on their feet. And as the other character peels back their jacket it becomes clear that they're badly hurt and have been for awhile.

Character A tilting Character B's chin up to get a better look at their face and the evidence of the fight. Character A delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by Character B's mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, Character B's heart skips a nervous beat as Character A looks them dead in the eyes. Their voice is quiet and tense, their anger barely restrained. "Who did this to you?"

"I will deny you death until you beg me for it."

"Hold on you died." "Yeah, well it didn't stick."

As teenagers, a boy and a girl agree to marry if neither have by their 35th birthday. Follow the boy as he attempts to sabotage every relationship the girl has till then.

The hero shows up at the villain's doorstep one night. They're shivering, bleeding and scared. There's also a slightly dazed look in their eyes--they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they are close to passing out they mumble, "...didn't know where else to go..." Then collapse into the villain's arms.

"I loved the woman you were before. Not this monster."

"I dare you to touch her again."

"By the Gods! You love her, don't you?"

"Come here." "Why?" "Just come here." "No, you're gonna hit me."

"Shh, shh." The villain wiped the tears from the hero's face and pressed a kiss to their forehead. "Don't struggle, you'll only make it worse for yourself."

"Hey, hey, hey. Baby, what's wrong?" The hero shuddered from the dram--startlingly vivid. Of fighting and faces, and the the icy clench of betrayal in their chest already fading into unconsciousness. And yet, they couldn't stop crying. Shoulders shaking, uncontrollable sobbing. The villain gathered them close, tucking the hero's head against their chest and making safe, soothing sounds. "Bad dream, huh? It's alright, nothing will touch you while I have you."

"Nobody touches you other than me, do you understand?" The hero looked at the other villain, dead on the floor. Dead before they even touched them. And they hated themselves for the flicker of gratitude, of feeling protected, when everything was all wrong and there was nothing safe in this game at all. Their villain was not kind. Only possessive. "Can we go home?" The villain liked it when they called it home.

They hadn't wanted this. Of course, they'd wanted the hero to stop fighting them. Wanted them broken, despondent, but... The person staring blankly at the walls, terrified of their own power, wasn't what they wanted. "Darling, you're beautiful. You don't need to be scared with me, I promise you that. Look--try and attack me and I promise I can stop you. You're safe with me. You couldn't hurt me if you tried. I'm just like you."

"You killed someone. Do you really think they're ever going to want you back?" The hero looked up at the villain, desperate, shattered. "I'll always want you, even if they don't." The villain said. "I understand what it's like. It was an accident, wasn't it?"

"You're not as evil as people think you are." "No, I'm much worse."

"I was a King!" He bellowed, spitting at the girl's feet. She smiled at him, her eyes sad and yet full of mischief. "And I was a god."

He pulled against the ropes with all his might, but they wouldn't give. "Don't bother," a voice said." He looked up to discover a thin girl bound with the same rope. Although it was dark, he could see her bruised eyes and wrists. "I already tried."

"Don't ever try to get inside my head," he snarled, slamming me against the wall. For several beats we stayed there, his grip crushing my wrists. Finally, his eyes softened. "It's too dark for you."

"You think you have a choice, and that's sweet and all, but it's time you take up the knife and do what you were made to do."

"You-you are--" "Beautiful, a genius, immensely talented--" "Dangerous."

"Sorry, I have a clingy and feverish assassin on my lap. I'll call you back when I've convinced him that a cold doesn't mean he's dying."

The villain pressed their lips to the hero's, silencing their sobbing pleas. "Shh." The villain murmured, angling their knife at the hero's throat. "It's better this way."

He was leaning against the wall, trying to support his own body weight, and his gasps of pain were like music to her ears.

"You just killed five men, what do you have to say for yourself?" "Oops?"

For a second, I thought she could actually see me.

Every person on the planet is born with a tattoo on each arm. One matches your soulmate, and one matches your worst enemy. However, most people have no clue which is which. You do, because they are both the same.

In a superhero-supervillain story, you're the hero's love interest, and as such, in classic use-their-loved-ones-against-them fashion, the villain keeps kidnapping you as leverage against the hero. However, an unfortunate complication has arisen; having spent so much time with the villain, you begin to realize you're falling in love with them.

You never kill the spiders in your home. You just whisper; "Today you, tomorrow me." When you set them outside. Now, in your most dire moment, an army of spiders arrives to have your back.

"I feel nothing for you. Absolutely nothing!" "Is that so?" His tone was amused, which irritated me more. "Yep. Nothing." He took one towards me with a smirk on his face. I swallowed, refusing to back up. He laughed at me discomfort. "Relax, Princess. I am not going to jump on you." That relieved me somewhat, until he added, "not until you ask me to anyways."

The hero shows up at the villain's house, hurt, broken and defeated. But it wasn't the villain and they are extremely angry that someone hurt their hero.

The phone rings. The voice on the other end says "we need you again." Then hangs up.

"What's the word for that infestation of tiny creatures over there?" "Those are children. That's a school."

Everyone has a guardian angel except you. You have a guardian demon. He deals with things in a much more violent, but more effective fashion.

"You have to go, you have to run away!" "Run from who?" "From me."

"Small fire! I said to set a small fire! This is not small!"

Two people running away from a blind, arranged marriage, in which one is supposed to marry the other, meet on the road by coincidence and fall in love with each other.

*Not every prince is charming

When people are born, they are assigned a soulmate. They have an original song in their head that only them and their soulmate know. A person just broke into your house and you're pretty sure they are here to kill you. They're humming your song under their breath.

"What? Do you think I enjoy this? This infatuation of mine? This horrible need to know you are okay?" To realize you can hurt me in a way no one for the past thousand years has been able to?" "Well, stop it then! If caring about me is such a nuisance to you, stop it! It doesn't do much for either one of us." "I CAN'T. That's what kills me. The fact that you can even ask that of me shows how ignorant you are about the power you have over me."

"I want to take a shower, so you should probably join me. It'll save water."

"It's midnight! Where the hell were you?"

"What the hell is your problem?"

"I might have slept with your [clothing article] when you were gone."

"No one has to know about us, I know this could ruin you."

"Just pretend to be my date."

"You should sleep." "I'm not human, therefore, I do not require sleep."

"You broke me and now you expect me to follow you out onto the battlefield? NO. The answer is NO."

"You take me instead, do you hear me? Give her back and take me instead."

"Wait, something doesn't feel right."

"Did you hear that?"

"Stay here and don't move. I'll be right back."

"You told me you were okay! You promised!"

"Why didn't you tell me?!"

"How long have you been covering this?"

"You've been trying to deal with this yourself?"

"We could have prevented this!"

"If you didn't want to be a burden, you should have gotten it treated right!"

"You didn't think it was that bad? Are you looking at it?"

"You are not fine!"

"You look really cute in that sweater."

"No, like... It's just, I can't believe you're actually wearing my clothes."

"You know I hear you talking, but I still don't have my coffee."

"Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It's not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying tha someone was made for you. It's... It's the love. It's too strong, and you can't fight it. I've tried. Believe me, I've tried... But I'm always going to love you. And I need you to know that."

"You would risk the lives of millions for one person? Why?" "Because it's not just one life... It's yours."

"This might sound selfish, but I don't care about the world. I only care about you."

"I still believe there is a good person in you."

"It was necessary."

"Did you think I really cared about you?"

"This was my plan all along."

"There was no other way."

"How cute. Struggle all you want, you won't be leaving this place."

"This is what you get from trusting me."

"It's too late to go back."

"I'm sorry this had to go down like this."

"That's right, I lied."

"It's all for a good cause."

"You were so stupid. You should have known."

"Just so you know... I don't regret anything."

"Shame. I kind of liked you."

"This is my responsibility."

"You will no longer love me if you see who I truly am."

"I'm a monster." "No, you're not."

"You'd better put that knife down."

"But I did all of this for you?" "I didn't want you to kill anyone."

Person A wins a big stuffed animal for Person B at an amusement park and offers to carry it for them. Person B says they'll carry it themselves and carries it around smugly.

While on a date, Person A very shyly touches Person B's hand and Person B reassuringly (and tightly) holds Person A's hand.

You press your ear against the wall, just in time to hear the scream.

AU where everyone is born with a very unique tattoo on their ankle, nobody else in the world has that tattoo. Every time you fall in love, their tattoo appears somewhere else on your body. (i.e a new tattoo appearing on a celebrity's body in new photos and a very lucky fan (who'd just met them), realizing that it's their tattoo.)

He/She kissed his/her brow as the world around them burned. "See you in the next life, my love." He/She whispered.

"Is everything supposed to go dark?"

"You'd better not die on me."

"They just got a lucky shot."

"Next time, don't call me over only to find you in a pool of your own blood!"

"You need to keep pressure on it."

When a character doesn't realize they've been shot or whatever and their hand brushes against their side and comes away wet with blood, and they're just staring at it like WTF is this and then their knees just totally give out on them and they sink down, maybe gasping a little as the reality finally hits them.

A character that knows they've been shot, but waits until the rest of their crew is out of sight to put their hand against the slowly spreading stain of blood on their shirt, then trying to steady their breathing so they can follow without letting on how injured they are.

Or the character who doesn't realize they've been hurt trying to see if everyone else is okay only to slowly realize that everyone is looking at them with mounting horror. Then they touch their side to find it's wet and oh no.

"Pull the trigger. PULL IT!" He screamed as he took the gun being held in his enemy's hand and pressed it against his own stomach. "I can't!" His enemy screamed. "I can't kill you!"

"You were more fun when we were kids," the villain sighed. "You worshiped me then. It was so cute." "When we were kids, you weren't such a colossal prick." The villain laughed and traced the weapon along their cheek. "Now, you know that's not true. You changed. Not me." The laugh dropped, to something more contemplative, softer, and yet no kinder. "Why did you have to?"

"Isn't that what people do?" The villain asked softly. "Learn to love each other? Could you not learn to love me? You-you who seem to have such a heart to love the world and everything in it?" The hero turned their gaze away, jaw clenched, pity and anger tugging at them in equal measure. "I would not be unkind to you," the villain persisted. Cupping the hero's face, thumbs stroking their jaw. "I would never." "Kidnapping people is unkind." The villain's grip tightened. "Making people fall in love with you and refusing to love them back is unkind." Oh, hell no. The hero knocked their hands away, expression ablaze with rage that they even dared say that. Their heart slammed, anger overtaking pity, teeth bared in a snarl. "I will never love you. Never."

"This isn't the way to make people love you!" "Love?" The villain laughed at that, fondly even, as they looked down at the hero kneeling before them, heat in their eyes. "My sweet thing, this isn't about love."

"All that time locked away, and not a note from you. No visits, no letters, nothing." The villain trailed their fingers along the hero's sides, relishing the sight of them all chained up for them. "You're lucky I'm nicer and won't just leave you here to rot, inmate." The hero snarled at them, making an indignant noise. "Aggressive behavior, now that would be a shot."

"I enjoyed your visits." The villain said, "but it's just not the same with a thick glass wall between us. I know you felt the same way." They didn't look at the hero, making cooing sounds at the hero's child in their lap. The hero's mind raced, desperately trying to think of some way to fix this. To calculate how long it would be before back up came. The very sight of the villain holding onto their baby left them sick with dread, even more so as the child gurgled and laughed. "You never told me about this little one, no they didn't, no they didn't." They smothered a kiss to the child's forehead. "They look like me."

"Shh, shh." the antagonist settled themselves comfortably on the protagonist's lap, looping their arms around them. One hand cupped the back of their head and stroked soothing fingers through the protagonist's hair, guiding their head to rest on the antagonist's shoulder. "It's alright, calm down..." The protagonist's wrists strained against the chains binding their limbs to the chair, heart feeling like it might jack-knife out of their chest, nerve-endings jangling. "Just match your breathing with mine." The antagonist continued, concerned. "We both know I'm going to hurt you regardless so there's really no point in having a panic attack about it. Come on, deep breaths. No

need to cry now, that's good. You can do it." They continued to make soothing sounds, crowning the protagonist's head with kisses.

"I really thought you could save me." The hero cradled the villain close, for now, too many things reeling through their head. "Yeah, so did I."

"You said if I did this, that we'd be done." The antagonist smiled, brushing the protagonist's hair back from their forehead. "You must have known that would never happen. Look at what a great team we make--we're unstoppable!" Their smile softened and the protagonist hated that it still made their stomach flip. "You're incredible!" "Incredibly done." "If I let you go, you'll die. The world can't maintain you the way I can."

"You were everything to me." And now, this. Betrayal and longing, relief at life and despair at monstrosity, sunk like a fish hook in their chest. Painful, inescapable. "How could you?" The antagonist's brow furrowed. They reached out a hand, gently catching the protagonist's tears on their fingertips. "You say that as if we've met before." The protagonist's heart dropped out. "What? You don't remember me?" The antagonist continued to stare at the tears for a moment before their hand clenched to a fist. They nodded to their guards. The protagonist struggled as the security seized hold of them again, dragging them up and backwards. Their desperation pitched. They grew sure. "You don't remember, do you? What's the last thing you remember?" "Oh, and gag them," the antagonist said, looking away. "They're boring me." "[NAME]--" the guards cut them off. The antagonist didn't look at them once as they were hauled out of the room.

They tried again, and again, and again. Each time, they were deftly deflected, tossed aside, pinned, knocked back as if their attacks and all their training was nothing. The villain was good. They tried for over an hour, ears ringing, nose bleeding, ribs cracked, fingers broken, until they were too exhausted to put any strength into a punch and the last lunge ended up more with them sobbing and shaking in frustration against the villain's chest. The villain caught their wrists firmly and twisted them into a more secure hold. They manhandled the protagonist, stumbling in front of the mirror so they could get a good look at just how pitifully outmatched they looked. "This is what you wanted? I'm sure your parents would be delighted to see this."

"Teach me." "What?" The villain started. "Teach me how to fight like you." It was the most incredible thing they'd ever seen. "...You want me to teach you how to kill me?" The villain let go and let them crumple to the floor. "[*]. I need a drink to deal with you."

"I said that's enough now." The villain caught hold of the hero's wrists as they tried to keep fighting, tossing their weapon aside before drawing them close. Arms wrapping around them in an embrace that might have been comforting if it didn't have the unyielding restraint of shackles. "There we go, easy now." You've been hurt enough for one day." Thrashing against the hold did nothing but exhaust the hero and eventually they sagged. They sank together to the ground in a tangle of limbs, rocking slightly. 'You hurt me,' they wanted to scream. 'This is your fault.' "Shh," the villain murmured--warned, they didn't even know anymore. "It's enough. You've done more than enough, you'e fought so bravely, but just listen to me. There's no shame in surrendering and living another day, right?"

The villain was curled up in their bed. Fast asleep, in their bed. No broken windows, no broken locks--just there. A bolt of rage shot through the hero before they got a better look at them and... Oh wow. They let them sleep, Tucked over another blanket and went into the kitchen and made food, something warm to drink and fished out some painkillers. Their eyes flickered over when the villain made a clammy appearance. "Sit down," they ordered. "You're not going anywhere until I've taken a look at your wounds." The villain sat, huddled up in one of the hero's old hoodies. "You're not interrogating me. Or angry." "Oh, I'm furious. But shockingly enough for once not at you. If I ask you what happened, you're going to run aren't you?" The villain didn't deny it. This was different, somehow.

"I loved you at your darkest."

The fighter frowned when I stepped into the ring, his stance slackening a little as he took in the sight of me. The roar of the crowd was deafening as they grew rowdy, waiting for the fight to start. But he said, in a low growl of a voice, "I don't fight girls." My lip curled as I replied, "too bad, because I fight boys." And knocked his legs out from under him.

"You took a bullet for me." The villain stared at them, numbly almost, as the protagonist gasped for breath that didn't want to come down. "That was stupid of you." They wished they had some excuse, some clever plan, but it had simply been instinct. They wished they had some witty comment, but it hurt too much to think. The villain stepped closer, standing over them. Watching them pant, propped weakly on one elbow, the other hand clamped to their side. "I wish you hadn't done that," the villain said. "So do I, [*]." They squeezed their eyes shut. They snapped open at the touch of hands, and the antagonist's face was right there. Close. "Are you scared? Do you want me to make it quick for you?" [*]. Really?

"You can't just keep me!" "You'd prefer I fight you and your friends?" The villain returned. "I wouldn't. And you are an excellent piece of peace-keeping leverage. A noble cause. I would have imagined you'd be all aboard.

"Don't do this," the antagonist entreated, anguished, wary. "You don't have to do this." The protagonist stared back, heart drumming in their ears, a dozen longings swelling beneath their tongue. "I don't want to. You're all I ever wanted." It hurt to, finally, admit it aloud and the antagonist's breath hitched. "But this is--this is wrong. Can you really not see that?" "Loving you can never be wrong." Their chest ached. "The things you do for love can."

"Not what you expected?" The villain smiled, frosty. "I had plans other than you too. I suppose we'll both have to make do." The hero drew back, wide-eyed, because no. This was not what they'd expected at all. A little awkwardness, a little chill, not a dead body on the bedroom floor. "What are you?"

"Don't worry." The villain caressed their partner's cheek, down the oh-so-vulnerable line of the hero's throat. "I won't hurt you. Suspicion always turns to the spouse first in these things." "I'll tell." "And then where would that leave you? Like it or not love. I'm all that you have in the world now. We need to look after each other."

When someone's heart breaks, so does a piece of our world; this creatures fissures,

valleys, and even cracks in the pavement. Tell the story behind the Grand Canyon.

"You're such a complete disaster." Groans the villain, scooping the unconscious hero off the sidewalk. "Like, holy hell, how does anyone let you out of their sight? Stop picking fights with people you aren't ready for."

"Fix it." "I can't." The protagonist dropped to their knees, a sick feeling curdling in the pit of their belly. "Please--see, I'm begging and everything. Fix it." They swallowed hard. "Please." Their voice cracked. "I can't." The antagonist said. They tugged one hand through their hair, jerking the other in a gesture for the protagonist to get up. "I'm not saying it to spite you, I literally can't. This is beyond my power. I'm sorry." The protagonist stared at them in numb disbelief.

"Hand over the girl." "Not going to happen."

"Does it hurt?" The hero asked carefully, looking at the huge scar that trailed from the other person's shoulder, down their chest to their stomach. The scar was pale in colour and bumpy; raised above the skin ever-so-slightly. The other person looked away, blinking fast. "It did. Years ago, when I first received it." "I can't believe someone could do this to you," the hero whispered. That got the other's attention, their head snapping towards the hero. "You did this. YOU did this to me and you don't even remember." They hissed.

"You need to eat something." The hero scowled, wrapping both arms around their grumbling stomach. "You need to mind your own business." The villain stepped forward slowly, arms held out in front of them, palms up. "You fainted on me last week, and I can hear how hungry you are. If you won't take my money, at least let me buy you some food. You help everyone, let someone help you for once. Don't let your pride stop you from taking the help you need to continue saving lives." The villain smiled crookedly. "To continue stopping me."

"Your city is in ruins. You are--" The villain stopped, gloves half off, and raised an eyebrow. "You're wrapped in my cape." Swaddled in the thick fabric, only the hero's face was visible, their expression trapped between a scowl and a pout. "It's cold down here, and you left it in reach. If you weren't too tight to heat your lair while keeping me prisoner down here, I wouldn't have had to resort to thievery." "You look adorable," the villain said, forcing a sneer into their voice. Because they did. They looked adorable and warm and perfect.

Character B bleeding heavily while Character A tries to staunch the blood, but Character B is more concerned about the fact that stoic Character A is sobbing and panicking.

When help is a few hours away and Character B has to stay awake, Character A rambles loudly about random stuff, trying not to break down and cry and to keep them awake.

"Show me your scars," he said. "But... Why?" She asked quizzically. "I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"You go ahead, I'll hold them off for as long as I can."

"Don't talk to me. It's 6 AM and I haven't had coffee yet, so anything I do or say cannot

be held against me."

"Dude, that jacket is mine, give it back."

"YOU USED MY TOWEL?!"

"Where is he?" "My lady...." "Answer me."

"Wait, when did I take off my clothes?"

"I"m fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten."

"I'm not here, actually, this is a projection from.... [planet].... I moved there recently."

"You have no idea how to make toast?!"

"I haven't showered in four days."

"You're more zombie than human."

"Fix her." "No." "Because you can't or you don't want to?" "Because she'll break again. And you'll be back here, on my doorstep, begging me once more to fix something that wasn't meant to be fixed." "So you don't want to?" The healer's eyes were cold. "No."

"You made me love you." The hero said. They stared out of the window, quietly, watching the rain spit down across the streets. The villain froze in the doorway, studying them, the cup of love-potion spiked tea still cradled in their hand. "I've known for weeks," the hero continued, idly almost. They didn't glance over. "It's obvious. Too sweet in the tea." "You're still drinking it." "I wanted to see what you would do. Waited." The villain swallowed at that. They hadn't done anything--aside from give the tea. Perhaps that was the most damning thing of all.

"She's crying, what do I do?" "Go comfort her." "How do I do that?" "Start with hugs." "With what?"

"I always knew I'd take a bullet for you," I say as pain ebbs through my chest. He/She crouches beside me, clutching at my shirt. Sobs echo from him/her as my lids grow heavy from the weight. "And I always knew you wouldn't take one for me." I whisper and shut my eyes.

First she realized she was pregnant, then she realized her baby would only be half human.

An all female crew is picked for the first [planet] mission. They all come back pregnant.

Imagine a villain getting injured and losing their memory and the hero finds them and takes them back with them, taking care of them and the villain gets their memory back after like a week but doesn't say anything because the hero is being so nice to them and nobody has been that nice to them in so long and they don't want it to end and they're maybe getting fond of the hero, but don't tell anyone. But eventually something happens and the hero is in trouble and they're trying to get the villain to run away because they still think they're an amnesiac with no idea how to defend themselves and they've grown to like them and don't want them to get hurt, but the villain just pushes past them towards whatever is trying to hurt the hero and just goes guns blazing and destroys them.

"I wish I had a camera."

The shackles grazed her wrists as she changed positions in an attempt to get comfortable.

You live in a world where your soulmate is unable to hurt you, intentionally or otherwise.

You are fighting in a war when one of the enemy's knives harmlessly glances off of you.

The rain came down in heavy sheets. He pulled his soaked [type of hat] down to protect his eyes and moved forward. Where was she? Would he find her in time? A dark shape against the bridge railway caught his eye when the lightning flashed. He rushed forward and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. He couldn't tell for the rain if she was crying or not, droplets streamed down her face. Her mouth opened to let out a cry, but when she saw it was him, she pleaded with her eyes. He only nodded and put his arm around her. He'd protect her.

My head pounded as the toxin flooded my veins, but when I looked at her I could tell what it was doing to her was much worse.

A woman has been dating guy after guy, but it never seems to work out. She's unaware that she's actually been dating the same guy over and over; a shapeshifter who's fallen for her and is certain that this time he'll get it right.

"What have you been doing? Actually, don't answer that, I don't want to know."

"You're hurt!" He pulled the arrow out of his chest. "Oh, that's nothing." She stared at him. She'd thought she'd seen the arrow pierce his heart. How was he even alive? He laughed. "Don't worry, dear. It takes more than one little arrow to kill me." She was pretty sure she'd seen his eyes glimmer for a second.

"It's 2 AM. I think that's enough of that."

"Watch, this is the best part!"

"Why are you doing this?!" The villain grinned, their malice as tangible as the ground beneath the hero's feet. "Because you fell in love. And you needed to learn that love won't save you when there's a gun to your head."

It's not like she meant to trip and spill coffee all over him. It was just the way of her people.

The villain gently lifted the hero's chin with a fingertip. "Don't you see? We're the same, you and I." The hero narrowed their eyes and smacked the villain's hand away. "You and I will never be the same. I'll make sure of it." The villain grabbed the hero's wrists in an iron grip before they even knew it was moving. "Darling," the villain chuckled, "you don't have a choice."

The villain snarled, "you will find the moment you hurt them is the moment I tear out your heart and shatter your bones. If you dare destroy them as you have threatened, then they'll find nothing left of you."

"You're not allowed to die, dammit!" The villain's voice quivered, threatening to break as they shook the hero's limp shoulders. "I promised myself you wouldn't die here. I promised you I'd get us both out of this. Dammit, I promised!"

The villain's breaths were shallow and panicked as they laid the hero on the ground, blood staining both their hands. "Damn it," the villain muttered as they ripped a piece off their shirt and pressed it flush with the hero's ribcage. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Didn't want you to think I was weak," the hero mumbled, their face an already alarming shade of white. The villain grimaced, tears blurring their vision. "Well, I'm afraid you're about to witness first hand just how weak I am."

"The world is ruthless, unforgiving. I came to realize that long ago when my wife was

stolen from me." She lifted her hood to reveal her face. "She wasn't stolen. She left."

The villain shook their head. "What a pity..." "Let me go!" Begged the protagonist again. "Please," she sobbed. "Please. "You could have been Queen. It's a pity you chose this path instead." The villain lifted their dagger.

"I"m the daughter of a King who forgot my name."

"Go to him. He waits for you."

*He became King because he wanted to marry you.

One night, a dark King appeared and offered me his hand, his heart, and his Kingdom.

Arranged marriage AU where I am the Prince/Princess who sneaked out to a tavern and while I was there I got into a fist fight with another patron. Fast forward to the next day where I am meeting the person who has been engaged to me since birth and oh wow your eye looks horrible, what did I do.

Your father is forcing you to marry someone you've never met. The night before your wedding you tie your sheets together and make your escape through the window. Halfway down, you make eye contact with someone doing the exact same thing a few windows over.

"If a god falls in love with you, you can never really die."

Person A and Person B are in the kitchen. Person A is short, while Person B is slightly taller. Person A: *Struggles to retrieve items from top shelf* Person B: "Do you need me to get it for you?" Person A: *Gasps* "How dare you insult the vertically challenged!" Person B: *Laughs* "Okay then..." Person A: (Moments later) *Defeated sigh* "Help meee....."

Person A: *Completely serious* "I have to get something off my chest." Person B: *Fingers crossed* "I hope it's your shirt, please."

Person A noticeably disheveled as they enter the room. "Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff." Person B, also disheveled and grinning smugly enters the room after. "I'm stuff."

The villain smiled, watching the anguish on the hero's face as their so-called friends handed them over. "I guess," the villain sighed. "You're nobody's first priority." They reached out, pulling the hero closer by their restraints. "Except mine, of course. Don't worry. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you." The hero shivered, turning their head away.

"I'm all yours," the hero held up their hands. "Just leave them out of it. This is just you and me, right?"

The villain panted for breath, hands bloody--a little dazed and starting to shake. "They were going to hurt you. I-I panicked. I know it's bad that I--" "Shh." The hero held out an arm and the villain crumpled against them. "It's alright. You were only trying to protect me, weren't you?" The villain nodded. "Then I forgive you, it's okay. But you know there are going to be people who don't see it my way, who wouldn't understand like I do." "But you can make that go away. You can do anything." The villain said. It took everything the villain had not to shiver with delight.

"There," the villain carded their fingers through the hero's hair. "Isn't it better to feel clean?" No more blood or grime or gore on battered skin. Instead, fluffy towels, steaming water, soothing scents and oils which soothed all aches and pains. "It would

feel even better if you weren't in the room. Bit creepy, that." "You know you can't be trusted not to abuse my hospitality."

"Stop it." The command, the quiet authority cut straight through to the villain's brain. "You're overthinking," their sidekick said. "You know what you get like when you start overthinking. Come here." The villain moved over thoughtlessly. Their sidekick guided them gently down onto their knees, taking the villain's head in their hands. Their fingers massaged soothing circles and the villain's eyes fluttered closed. "That's right," their sidekick murmured. Good. Just focus on me. Take some deep breaths."

"You are so terrified that people will never love you, that they'll leave you," the protagonist murmured. "That you would never give them the chance to do either." The antagonist stilled in the doorway, just for a beat. The protagonist looked at them, heart seized in their mouth. "That's not love, you know. Love necessitates choice." "Just as well then," the antagonist replied. "That I'm not looking to give someone the chance to love me. Sleep tight." The door slammed shut behind them.

"I miss you." "You miss an illusion." But the villain paused all the same, hand rising as if about to touch. Faltering. Their hand dropped. They steeled themselves. "Take them away." Cold.

*And mighty we became.

"That has got to be the lamest pick up line in existence." "Don't worry that's just Plan A." "So what's Plan B?" "To take you hostage."

"I'm fine," the antagonist said. "Okay." "I'm fine." They'd just said that, and the protagonist was starting to look concerned. "Just fine. Everything's going to be fine." Oh wow, they couldn't stop saying it, couldn't stop gabbling it, couldn't breathe over it, choking on that word. Fine, fine, fine, always perfectly fine.

The villains lungs strained for air as the hero slammed them up against the wall, face inches away. Fear licked up their spine. "You're sorry?" The hero spat. "Sorry doesn't even begin to cover what you're going to be for what you've done. You don't get to cry over your guilt. You're not the one who got hurt."

In the heat of the moment, whether this is a fight, chase, or the characters are under gunfire; they escape and get to cover. However all is not well when Character A turns to see Character B leaning heavily against a wall, clutching at their side. Character B slowly looks up and shows a blood covered hand before saying, "so. Slight problem," before collapsing onto the floor.

"I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen."

Person B dancing around their home, headphones in, eyes closed, singing as loudly as they please to their favourite song while Person A stands in the doorway watching their oblivious partner with a loving smile on their face.

Person A: "How can someone say Person B is evil? They're the most precious soft little soul." Person B: *Wiping blood off their face* "YEAH, I'M ADORABLE!"

Person A walked into the house, threw their bag on a chair, and laid down on the carpet with an air of defeat. Person B walked in a few hours later, saw Person A on the ground and set to work. They picked up a few blankets and pillows. Then Person B walked

over to Person A, laid everything out, then proceeded to lay down with Person A. Person A slowly curled up to Person B and fell into a restful sleep. Five hours later, they're still there. Just soaking in each other's presence.

Person A was sitting up in bed, headphones on and staring intensely at their Ipad screen, which flickered brightly in the dim room. Person B rolled over and slowly sat up, glancing at the clock and seeing it was well past 2 AM. Person B leaned up against Person A, with their eyes still closed and asked why Person A was still up. Person A popped out an earbud and quickly *states reason* and then turned their attention back to the screen. Person B yawned loudly, grabbed the device and tossed it off the bed. Right before Person A could protest, Person B curled an arm around them and forced Person A to lay down. Person A fell asleep within minutes, tucked securely in Person B's arms.

Imagine your OTP getting ready for bed and Person A is sitting on the bed. Person B tries to sneak up on them with a hug or a kiss, but Person A has quick reflexes and thinks they're being attacked. So they accidentally hit Person B in the face and they fall back onto the bed. Person A quickly realizes who it was then, and keeps saying sorry really fast and hugs them and kisses where it hurts.

Imagine Person A walking into the kitchen, only to find Person B in tears. Person A immediately rushes over to Person B's side, fretting over them, consoling and asking what happened. Surprised, Person B explains they were simply cutting onions.

Person A is baking cookies and has to split their attention between the timer and fighting off Person B, who keeps trying to steal cookie dough from the bowl.

Imagine your OTP making out on a couch, but then one of them accidentally rolls off and the other one is either frantically asking if they're okay, or laughing their head off.

Imagine your OTP ice skating and one of them falls so the other tries to help them up, but they lose their balance and fall on top of the other.

What if he held you tightly in his arms as you lay on his chest, drifting into sleep by the sound of his steady heartbeat. Feeling the slight vibration of his lungs as he hummed softly. His hands brushing lightly in your hair as his lips pressed against the top of your head, but stayed there for awhile. Then he let out a faint sigh, taking his lips away, seeming to be deep in thought.

You shift around in bed, trying to find a comfortable position. No success. You hear your boyfriend stretching. "Can't sleep, my love?" He asks, letting out a sleepy sigh. "Come here," he whispers. You move over to him and he snakes an arm around your waist and wraps his leg around yours as you rest your head on his bare chest.

As you lay in bed alone, struggling with reaching sleep, you toss and turn before huffing out in annoyance at still being awake. A small fraction of light creeps into your room until the door closes and the edge of your bed dips down underneath his weight. He carefully climbs under the covers, reaching an arm out for you, pulling you closer to his body, your back to his front. "You can sleep now, love. I'm home. I love you." He gently whispers in your ear, lightly kissing your cheek and then laying his head on the pillow next to you, leading you to fall into a dream-filled sleep of your boy being back home.

#writing #writing prompts #writing prompt list #prompts #other writing prompts #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #star wars

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kristannarubbish · 5 years ago

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Fire Escape (A Kristanna Quarantine One Shot)

Summary: Anna loves to sit out on her fire escape, especially during times like these. She finally finds out the identity of the person living directly across from her one evening.

WC: 2k

Rating: T? (Still no clue how that system works I’m sorry)

Anna loves to sit perched on the ladder of her fire escape. It's one of her favorite things to do, quarantined or not. The cool feeling of rusted dark metal on her palms calms her like no other. For as long as she’s lived in her building, it has felt like her own little oasis. She even bought a few plants for it, which she was very proud that most of them were surviving so far.

Anna spends her time on the fire escape gazing up at the starless city sky or down at the warmly lit alleyway below.

There isn’t much for her to look directly out at though, because her apartment building is 6 feet apart from the next one. Sometimes she looks into the apartment windows across the street, but not too much. Wouldn’t want people to think she’s a peeper or anything. But just because she tries not to, doesn’t mean she never steals a glimpse or two.

For example, she knows there is a girl one row of windows up and two over from her that really likes musical theatre. She always has her window open when she belts out her best Defying Gravity. Anna often wonders if she’s an actress, because she should not be giving those performances for free.

She knows that one window in the opposite direction is an old woman, who is apparently coping with quarantine by baking lots and lots of cookies. She can smell them when they sit to cool by the half open window. Anna wondered if she caught her attention at the right time, if the old woman would send her some using the clothesline.

Someone Anna has never seen though, is the person who lives directly across from her. Can’t blame them for not making themselves seen though, she probably wouldn’t feel good about someone always sitting on the fire escape directly across from her either. Or maybe they just have different schedules. Anna opted to assume the latter for her own personal sanity.

But nothing like a citywide lockdown to keep people at home, right? As the sun was setting about three nights into self-quarantine, Anna was watering her plant to finish up a long day of sitting in her happy place when she was startled by the sound of the window across from her opening. So much so, she dropped her watering can.

“Ah!” Anna shrieked as she fell to her knees to catch her can before it fell any farther.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” The man from inside exclaimed at her initial fright.

The window was opened all the way with large hands and a very big, very tall man emerged onto the opposite fire escape. Anna inspected him. She noticed that he had floppy blonde hair, which was not what she was expecting from someone as manly looking as him. As she sized him up, which she didn’t mean to do, she was taken aback at how handsome he was. Anna didn’t mean to, but she gawked up at him with wide ocean colored eyes.

“I didn’t mean to… are you alright?” He trailed off as he saw her big blue eyes blinking up across from him.

Anna shook her head and snapped out of it. At this rate, his entire building would think she’s a huge creeper. “Sorry!” She helped herself up quickly with the bars of the fire escape and brushed her joggers off.

She explained quickly, “Believe me, I don’t usually stare at people like that. I was just surprised that someone actually lived there!”

He cocked an eyebrow at her as his hands held onto the top of the fire escape, “You didn’t think anyone lived there?”

Anna shut her eyes tight as if to pretend this isn't happening, and shook her head quickly before she pressed on, “No no no no. I always knew someone lived there. I mean I saw the lamps on and stuff sometimes and the apartment obviously had furniture.” She looked surprised at what she just said as she opened her eyes again. “I mean it's not like I’m staring into your apartment! I just, it’s right across and when I sit out here I guess I just saw the furniture. Haha…” She trailed off, realizing she might be in too deep.

His lips quirked up into a smile. “It’s okay, I get it. You hardly seem like the creeper type to me,” he laughed. A very sweet laugh, Anna thought as she smiled back.

“Well, you never know,” Anna raised her brows at him but put her face in her hands as her head caught up to her mouth. “I’m kidding!” she said across to him.

He chuckled, “I bet you're the biggest creeper around. Let’s start over? I’m Kristoff, I live- well right across from you I guess.” Anna’s heart fluttered despite barely knowing him.

“Hi Kristoff,” she smiled once she composed herself, “I’m Anna.”

“What are you doing out here Anna?” Kristoff asked quizzically as he tested her name out on his tongue.

“Oh, me? Well I just like sitting out here because it clears my head… and is less stiflening then my apartment three days into quarantine,” she chuckled. He did too. Anna felt a strange, warm sense of accomplishment in her chest. “What about you? Why are you out here?”

Kristoff shrugs and smiles slightly, “Same reason as you. I don’t know how much longer I can watch the news before my brain rots out of my head.”

“Good on you for at least watching it. I have it on in the background for a couple of minutes and I’ll already start to feel sick to my stomach,” Anna lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

He nods as he settles into his ladder, “I get that.” There’s a silence that falls between them for a moment. Kristoff breaks it, “Well, I’ll let you go. You looked like you were about to go inside.”

“Oh uh! It’s okay. Uhm… Can I stay here? I mean I don’t wanna ruin your alone time or anything,” she asks, cheeks flushed and a tad nervous, for some reason. She wasn’t sure if he had anyone to get to on the other side of that wall.

His face lights up, “Believe me Anna, I think I’ve had more than enough alone time to last a while.” Her stomach does a backflip. They both share a laugh as Anna too, settles into the ladder on her fire escape.

The sun sets and the night wears on. The ice of being strangers melts away as the lights of windows around them flick on. It warmly illuminates both of their faces as the talk and joke, and honestly, flirt. Anna didn’t know if it was her not talking to people for a few days or if she was genuinely attracted to him. It only took her about 15 minutes to realize it was the latter.

Anna found out that they in fact did have different schedules, that’s why she never saw him. He had said, “I’m a software engineer. I usually work late and leave early to go to the gym. Not a ton of movement behind a desk all day.”

Anna also found out that his favorite color is green, his favorite paper is The New York Times (“It’s because of the crosswords”), that his favorite snack is carrots and peanut butter and that he has a dog named Sven. She found out the last one when a German Shepard had stuck his head through the window as if to say: When are you coming to bed?

“You have a dog!” she tried to exclaim too loudly to not disturb their neighbors which she was sure already weren’t happy with them.

Kristoff chuckled and scratched behind the dog’s ears, “Yes I do.”

Anna used squishy faces at him from across the alley, and in her best baby voice possible said, “What’s your name cutie wootie face?” Kristoff never liked when people used the baby voice on Sven, but he didn’t mind it when Anna did it. He even kind of enjoyed it.

“This is Sven, who wants me to come inside apparently,” he sighed. Anna’s heart and face dropped, she didn’t want to say goodnight, even if sleep was wearing her eyes as well. She had no idea how long they had been talking for, but it was easy to assume it was the early hours of the morning now.

“I wish we weren’t quarantined,” Kristoff said, somewhat hopelessly with a matching loud sigh to follow.

The red head rolled her eyes, “Don’t we all,” she let out with a slight chuckle.

Kristoff took a deep breath, the sleep must be starting to get to him, he wasn’t usually this bold with women he liked. “I mean- not for the normal reasons. Yeah sure, I would love to get back to normal life, but I would really like to take you on a date,” he spoke sheepishly with pink cheeks.

Anna’s mouth had dropped to a slight ‘o’ shape and she flushed wildly. He was afraid for a quick moment that he wasn’t supposed to say that. She probably has a boyfriend in there, he thought. Wait, no. She would not have sat out here all night with you if she had a boyfriend. Would she?

Anna grinned, “I would love that.” This isn’t happening! I must have fallen asleep on the ladder and gotten sick because this feels like a fever dream.

Kristoff’s heart soared and smiled the biggest he had in awhile. Maybe I should act on sleepy thoughts more often, if it means going on dates with the most gorgeous girl in Manhattan, he thought. After a moment of pure bliss, Kristoff’s smile slowly depleted like an unplugged bouncy house, as the reminder of the world’s state came creeping back in. Anna looked at him with concern.

“Stupid social distancing. I wish we wouldn’t have to wait,” he sighed again, looking at her with disappointed eyes.

“Maybe we don’t have to?” Anna smirked, “I have an idea.”

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

The next afternoon, Anna inspected her appearance in the mirror, making sure it was perfect. Last night, the first time he saw her, she had greasy hair and was in a less than appealing outfit. Thank god it was dark, she thought. But today, she wanted to make a better impression. Anna smoothed out her green floral dress and ruffled her wavy red hair. She felt ready and glanced at the clock. Almost one, just like they planned.

Kristoff too, looked at the clock when it was almost one. He stared at himself back in the mirror, buttoning and unbuttoning his baby blue shirt. He couldn’t decide if it all the way to the top was too stuffy or just right. He decided to leave it unbuttoned. He grabbed his speaker and his food, and he headed out to the fire escape.

They both opened up their windows at 1 o’clock sharp. Anna gaped at him, not feeling sorry or sheepish this time, “You look great.” She smiled brightly at him with pink cheeks.

Luckily for her, he looked at her, eyes wide and jaw practically on the floor, “A- Anna, you look… beautiful.” Anna isn’t only the most beautiful girl in Manhattan, she's the most gorgeous girl in the world.

They both continued to take time to complement and blush before they sat shakily on their own ladders. Anna insisted that Kristoff got to choose what they ate, so he chose Chinese from his favorite takeout place a few blocks over. Both delivered to their own apartments of course.

The afternoon was filled with everything from laughs to conversations about what the virus has done for the world- but mostly laughs. They both enjoyed them the same.

“Once all this is over,” Kristoff said after he swallowed a bite of chicken, and trying to keep his courage from the night before, “we’re doing this again, but on your fire escape.”

Anna smiled so bright and the March sun were competing, “I can hardly wait.”

#i just had to write a quarantine meet cute #im sorry #kristanna fandom #kristanna fic #kristanna fanfic #my fics!#frozen fic #frozen fanfic #frozen #frozen 2 #kristoff #anna #kristanna one shot #frozen one shot #one shot

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caps-lockdown · 5 years ago

Text

Candy Corn Blues

Hey everyone here’s another one shot for Spooktober! It’s short and sweet (pun intended) hope you all enjoy it!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female Reader

Ratings: PG 13 (Language, booze). All Fluff, already established relationship with Steve.

Words: 2,447

Summary: Why does everyone have to pick on Steve about his candy choices?

(Don’t own anything, except the reader. This was not endorsed by any candy companies. No beta either, so have fun finding mistakes. I’m sure there’s some.)

Candy Corn Blues

It was the second week in October when you arrived home from a mission with Steve. It had gone easy enough. Some minor cuts and bruises, but you returned to the Compound with the information you needed to stop a known terrorist from blowing up another building full of important people at another important gala in Washington. You’d care more if they hadn’t gotten so predictable lately. You were happy to do the job, but this mission was cutting into your favorite time of year. That bugged you.

You were entering the loud living area after a much needed shower, smile on your lips as you overheard your teammates continuing the discussion from earlier in the Quinjet.

“I’m telling you guys, Snickers is OBVIOUSLY the best Halloween candy.” Bucky rolled his eyes, sipping from his mug of coffee. How that man could drink that sludge this late was beyond you. But then again, it had been a pretty long night for all of you. And it’s not like alcohol would do anything to him. Sam remained firm in his opinion, shoulders tense as he stood his ground.

Tony scoffed, “Again you’re wrong Wilson, Reese’s pumpkins are by far the better candy for this time of year.” You high fived the man as you took the seat next to Steve on the overstuffed couch, giving him a quick peck before settling into his side, his arm going over your shoulders as if it had a mind of its own. “See? Y/N’s got the good sense to agree with me! Always knew you had good taste.”

“I see the debate is still in session.” You giggled as Steve fake groaned, leaning into you and resting his head on yours as you cuddled on the couch. You hadn’t really gotten a lot of time to each other the last couple weeks, the Avengers splitting up to help cover more ground on this terrorist situation. “I’ve missed you.”

The blonde man sighed into your hair, trying to ignore the scene behind him. “And I you Sweetheart.”

“Seriously Stark? Reese’s? Those taste like sawdust coated in those cheap chocolate candy melts and then left to rot for a year before they’re put on shelves.”

“Oddly descriptive Sam, “Nat pulled a face, reaching for a beer Thor was holding out for her. “Do I want to know just how you know what sawdust tastes like?”

“Har har, very funny. Just admit it, I’m right.”

“I have to disagree Samuel, I quite enjoy the taste of a Three Musketeers bar.” Thor shrugged, Bruce clicking his tongue between his teeth as he shook his head.

“Nah man, you guys are forgetting about Milky Ways!” Wanda nodded enthusiastically, not having said much most of the day, but you figured out pretty quickly she hadn’t actually eaten a lot of the candy that had been in the conversation.

It was Tony’s turn to make a face. “Banner those are almost as bad as Snickers. They might as well be sister-wives in the family of gross.”

“What about Sour Patch Kids! Ya’ll are sleeping on a classic!” You piped up from your position with your beau, the group collectively groaning and muttering “no”. “Well screw you too.”

“Hey we haven’t heard from Mr. Perfect teeth yet.” Tony jolted the man next to you out of his dozing mindset, a sheepish grin covering his face as he refused to speak. “What’s up Cap? Y/N got your tongue?”

“Crude Tony, but no. My favorite candy is none of your business.” You turned your head to look at him, swallowing his comment in your brain. You had no idea what his favorite candy was, not that he was a huge fan of sweets to begin with. You hadn’t even been dating that long, but you were certain you hadn’t asked him. “Don’t look at me like that Y/N, I’m not telling you.”

“Oh come on darling,” You cooed, trying to bait an answer out of him. “It can’t be that horrible. I’ll keep the big bad Stark away from you if it’s Snickers.” You rubbed his large forearm soothingly, the man’s face turning a slight shade of pink as he took a deep breath.

“Alright,” he sighed out the breath as if it was his death warrant, shutting his eyes to avoid everyone else’s as they waited. “It’s chicken feed.”

Your face was priceless. “Uh, what?”

“Sorry, it hasn’t been called that for awhile now I guess,” He chuckled, “Candy corn. I really love candy corn.”

The chorus of “WHAT?” and “THE FUCK ROGERS?” was deafening, Steve’s jaw tensing as he kept his eyes shut.

“Jesus Steve I know they didn’t have much back in the forties but my man, some things you can leave in the past. I wish they had left those travesties back in the eighteen-eighties.” Sam groaned out, Bucky laughing at his friend’s miserable features as Tony fake gagged.

“For once we agree Sam. Candy corn is the absolute worst thing to happen to this world since the black plague.”

“It’s just so…basic! Bland! There’s nothing to it! It’s like they made all of it back in nineteen twelve and have just been selling that one batch this whole time!”

“Pretty sure dirt has more flavor to it.”

Your face tensed as the men continued to berate your boyfriend’s choice, your hand coming over his to squeeze it gently. You knew he would shrug it off, but it still managed to get under your skin, even if they were right. “I’m sorry I asked, I don’t know how you can eat that stuff.”

“It reminds me of a simpler time. I mean there wasn’t tons of great tasting candy that was cheap back then. My ma always managed to get her hands on some and it’s just another way to remember her.” Your heart swelled as he smiled at you, blinking his eyes open. “I know it isn’t incredible, but I don’t need a bunch of ingredients or gimmicks. It’s just candy.”

“You’re sweet enough as is Rogers, I promise you that.” You muttered, watching his smile widen as he gave you another cavity inducing kiss.

Another two weeks went by in a flash, before you knew it Steve was leaving with Bucky, Sam, and Nat to go take out the terrorist. You had elected to stay behind with Tony, not feeling up to the adventure and it was going to be over too quick anyway. You had been nice enough to send him pictures of candy corn on the thirtieth, as it was the national day for it. He was quick to rub it in Sam’s face. Snickers didn’t have a holiday after all. You didn’t want to be parted from Steve, but you also didn’t want to risk missing movie night. Especially when Nat, Pepper, and you had all decorated the Tower in scary lights and creatures. Hell, Steve didn’t even want you to miss that, knowing this was your thing.

So they went to catch the bad guys while you, Pepper, Tony, and Peter Parker all sat crunched together on the sofa, watching everything from Hocus Pocus to Saw. You laughed when Pepper and Peter clung to each other, you and Tony egging on the classic slashers and cheering when teenagers met their end in terrifyingly awful and supremely dated ways.

“Holy shit!” You jumped, quickly dissipating into laughter as FRIDAY announced the team had stopped the terrorist, your heart rate calming at hearing everyone was fine and would be back tomorrow night after a meeting with the president. You opened the text window on your phone, smiling as Steve had sent you a picture of him with the team, all carving pumpkins in their hotel room a few hours later.

“Wish you were here Pumpkin.” The caption read, you snorting into your handful of popcorn, quick to take a picture of a woman mid scream on the T.V and sending it back with the attached text.

“You’re a real scream Sweetheart. See you soon.”

“Have a dreadfully good evening Doll.” Was in your window less than two seconds later. He was getting faster with his texting. Tony huffed a louder than needed “ahem”, drawing your eyes back to the T.V to watch Jamie Lee Curtis limp towards the safety of a closet.

“Man fashion sure has changed for the better hasn’t it Mister Stark?” Peter asked, the older man looking at him as if he was crazy. “What? You were alive in the seventies right?”

You and Pepper were in tears as the outraged Tony threw popcorn at the young man.

The next day you were helping Pepper take down the decorations in the tower, humming some Halloween tune to yourself as you placed the giant fake spiders and bats back in their correct boxes. The team would be back early morning tomorrow and you couldn’t wait to get some cuddle time with Steve. Tony had promised you two some R and R and you were going to have it. Even if the holidays were approaching like a bullet train. Picking up your phone you pressed the green icon next to your favorite Captain’s name, his voice coming in within a ring and a half.

“Hey Doll, you have a good night last night?”

“Yea, you? Looks like you were up to your hips in pumpkin guts.” You laughed, imagining him covered in the sticky substance.

“It was a lot of fun, you would have made it better though.”

You could feel the smile in his voice. “Well duh, this is me we’re talking about. I make everything better.”

“That you do. Going to go ransack all the stores of their Halloween clearance?” The blonde asked, frowning from his own position on the globe as yet another store didn’t carry his preferred candy. That was the fourth store. Had they stopped making it? “Hmm. This isn’t right.”

“You know me too well.” You smiled as Tony jingled the keys to his car at you, throwing you a pair of flats as you balanced the phone on your shoulder. “What’s not right?”

“I can’t find any candy corn. I was going to pick some up to hold me over til the Christmas kind comes out.”

“Awww poor baby.” You could hear Sam’s sarcasm from the other side of the line, stifling your own laughter as you got in the car. “I see they actually have sense here in Washington. Which is a big deal when you think about it.”

“Shaddup Sam,” Steve’s tone had a frustrated edge to it, and you were beginning to suspect that this was not the first comment Wilson had made during your boyfriend’s plight. “I can’t wait to see you , I’ll let you get to shopping. Tell Tony we’re gonna have pizza tomorrow so you don’t have it tonight.”

“But it’s Pizza Friday.” You complained weakly, knowing the older man was bound to throw a fit over a change in the routine.

“He’ll get over it. He likes you the most anyway, so he won’t be angry if you tell him.”

“Man you are so lucky you’re cute.” You muttered, Steve chuckling into the receiver.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll make it up to you.” Your heart shuddered at his promise.

“You better. Sorry about your candy corn blues.”

“S’alright. Maybe you were right about me being sweet enough already.”

The two of you said your goodbyes and hung up, an idea popping into your head as you buckled your seat belt, admiring the leather of Tony's expensive car. You were even more excited to go shopping now, the billionaire almost looking worried as you bounced in your seat all the way to the first store.

The next day Steve and his team dragged their exhausted bodies from the Quinjet, the mission that took nearly a month to complete heavy on their minds as they decompressed from the stress. The press event with the President had been worse. How that was possible none of them knew. To say they were happy to be home was an understatement. Rogers had actually dreamt of his bed the last couple nights, more specifically the woman who was in the bed. You hadn’t been dating for more than six months yet but he was already head first and heart deep in love with you. Everything you did was so effortless and gentle. You always thought of him, putting him and others before yourself. He admired your strength, as you didn’t need serum or powers to kick ass. He always had a weakness for powerful women though.

He didn’t bother turning on the light when he entered his room, stripping off his clothes and promptly passing out on his bed, taking note you weren’t there to greet him. Probably smart for you to sleep in your room, as it was nearly three in the morning.

He woke up to the biggest shock of his life.

The light streamed into his room like the sun had made it its own personal mission to make sure Steve would go blind. Standing up, he yawned, rubbing his eyes before they widened in surprise.

His room was crawling in candy corn. Containers and bags of it flooded his floor and chair next to his bed. There were even a couple of bags on his bed. How could he have slept through all of this? He must have been more tired than he thought. There was a pumpkin shaped container nearly overflowing with the sugary confection on his nightstand, little packets meant for trick or treaters hanging out of his shoes. A knock at his door startled the man, Steve carefully stepping over the obnoxiously bright orange bags on the floor as he opened the door.

You lowered a large pillow in the shape of his favorite treat, large grin on your face. “Morning. Do you think this will hold you over til Christmas?”

He laughed hard at that, pulling you into his arms as he kissed you breathless.

“Doll, you’re the absolute sweetest. Thank you.”

“Anytime Captain. Now as I recall you have some making up to do.” You whispered suggestively, Steve taking the hint and closing the door behind you, smile never leaving his eyes.

The End.

Taglist: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers #captain america fanfiction #captain america #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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radiant-flutterbun · 5 years ago

Text

Pixel and the Shapeshifter Part 2

Previously

The next portal took Pixel to a bright land full of pine trees and wind that brought the taste of salt water with it. Just a short walk away was a huge stone tower.

Pixel attempted to take a step forward but immediately fell. Something didn’t feel right. They looked down at themself and screamed. Their body had transformed into a bird-like dragon.

Inkdrop snorted and transformed into a bat-like dragon “Oh! You’re a skydancer! Those dragons are pretty neat.”

“Uh, you didn’t say anything about my body transforming when I got here.”

“Oh didn’t I?” Inkdrop tilted her head “Sorry it must've slipped my mind! Anyway you’re a dragon now congrats! It may take some getting used to, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out! Everyone else did!”

“Great. Cool,” Pixel struggled to their feet “Would be really cool if I didn’t have to relearn how to walk. And how the fuck am I supposed to hold anything?” Pixel nudged their phone that had fallen to the ground with their nose.

“Oh you can walk around on your hindlegs and grab it with your front. It’s easy for a skydancer to do that!” She shapeshifted into a skydancer to demonstrate and picked up the phone.

Pixel stood on three legs and took it from her “Thanks.” The phone disappeared “Ok cool. Good to know that I can still summon my weapon at will here, and also make it disappear when I don’t need it.”

Inkdrop allowed Pixel to adjust to their new dragon form before leading them to the clan’s entrance. The doors were much bigger than Pixel had thought once they were up close.

A panel on the door flipped open and Pixel was greeted with a huge grey eye peering through.

“Inkdrop. You brought a guest?” A booming voice asked.

“Yes Obsidian, and don’t worry I vetted them. They’re not dangerous!”

“Very well. You may enter.” The doors opened and behind them was a huge black dragon with blue gemstones coating his scales.

As Pixel stepped inside they were at awe with how big the place was. Dragons or all shapes and sizes were walking about, they barely paid Pixel any attention.

“So, where’s Sagacious?” Pixel asked Inkdrop.

“Oh her? She hasn’t moved from the history section of the library since she got here,” The shapeshifter snorted “Why do you want to see her, anyway?”

“I have something I need to settle with her.”

“Ok but please don’t mess anything up. I promised Nike not to bring anyone in who will mess things up!”

“Me? Mess things up? Never! Now where's Saga?”

***

Sagacious was enthralled by the history and creatures of the dragon planet. On her world she already knew everything. But here she knew nothing, and that simply would not do.

So she found a nice spot in the clan’s library (which was the majority of the tower), and curled up with a pile of history books. For months she read book after book and only took brief breaks. The clan’s main librarians Lakra and Masika adored her. It had been awhile since the library had seen some use by the newcomers.

Now for the first time since her arrival, Sagacious’s reading was interrupted.

A metallic skydancer with dreadlocks approached her, their teeth showing as they snarled.

“HEY BITCH!”

Sagacious snapped her book shut “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me!” The skydancer pulled out a smartphone. Wait no a knife. An electric knife and pointed it at Saga “I’m Pixel Pronoia and you killed my friends! Now I’m here to return the favor!”

Sagacious sighed “Oh it’s you,” She stared at their knife, unamused “Did you really think that’d be threatening?” She was an imperial. They were merely a little skydancer.

“Hey I can cause permanent damage to you here! One stab and you’re scarred for life!”

Sagacious placed a claw on Pixel’s arm and forced them to lowered the knife to the ground.

“And I can squish you like a bug.”

The commotion attracted the attention of two other imperials, Lakra and Masika.

“Saga, is something the matter?” Masika asked.

“Is that skydancer bothering you?” Lakra added.

“Yes, they interrupted my reading to threaten me.”

Lakra gasped “How dare they!”

“I’m getting Nike,” Masika said “This is unacceptable.”

Pixel growled and thrashed, but Saga had their arm pinned good.

“Fuck you! Fuck you so much! I fucking hate you! You’re a fucking murderer!”

“No matter how many times you say ‘fuck’, the situation will not change,” Saga said with a smirk “You really just should have stayed home.”

A bright blue and green Plague mirror arrived “Sagacious, what is going on?” She asked.

“Nike, this skydancer just threatened me with a knife.”

The mirror, Nike approached Pixel and sniffed them “You’re the one Inkdrop just let in. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“She’s a murderer!” Pixel screamed “She killed my friends and then locked me up in my own home!”

Nike’s antenna flicked toward Sagacious “Is this true?”

“Of course not.” Sagacious answered.

“YOU LYING BITCH!” Pixel’s voice cracked.

Lakra scoffed “Sagacious is one of the sweetest, kindest, dragons I’ve ever met. All she’s done is read since she got here. I cannot believe some nobody dragon would enter our clan just to threaten her and accuse her of such horrible things!”

“Hmm,” Nike circled Pixel “I’d really rather this not become another ‘Naperone Situation’. Obsidian! Could you come over here?”

At her command the guardian that allowed Pixel to enter arrived.

“Move this skydancer to the prison. They threatened a clan member.”

“Yes. Of course Nike,” Obsidian plucked Pixel up by their chest and scruffed them like a cat. Sagacious let go of their arm, and they dropped the knife. A cracked smartphone now lay beside Sagacious’s feet.

Pixel struggled and screamed as Obsidian carried them up to the very top of the tower, where he then threw them into a dark, damp cell.

“Wait! But I wasn’t lying! She really is a murderer! And give me back my fucking phone!”

Obsidian didn’t say a word as he left Pixel in the dark.

“Sucks when no one believes you, doesn’t it?” A voice echoed in the dark.

Across from Pixel’s cell was a black and white skydancer with bright yellow eyes.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“I am the true God of Death, Match Solstice. And I know who you are, Pixel Pronoia.”

“Oh gross, a Solstice.”

Match snarled, showing his bloodstained fangs.

“So what the fuck are you in here for, vampire boy?”

Matched frowned “Eh. It actually sounds pretty bad now that I think about it.”

Pixel lifted an eyebrow “Oh well now you gotta tell me. I’m invested.”

“... I killed my brother.”

“Holy fuck. The winged one? Spirits you’re a bigger asshole than I thought.”

“Hey. hey before you paint me as the bad guy you got to understand that he was a weak god that was never meant to exist. He was a failure to the Solstice name and-”

“Fucking hell. I hope whatever brain rot you’re suffering from isn’t contagious.”

“You’re an annoying little bastard aren't you?”

“Yeah well at least i’m not ugly.”

“Wow i’m so hurt by your creative insult.”

“You’re right I can do better than that,” Pixel grinned “I wonder what your parents would think if they saw you right now. Would they be disappointed? Angry? It must be pretty embarrassing to be the son of two of the most powerful gods and to end up in another world, in prison, sick and alone. I bet they won’t ever want to call you a Solstice if they knew how weak you were right now. If they knew you were mortal right now.”

Match growled, but mid growl he began to cough. As he coughed blood splattered all over the ground. Crimson red instead of the indigo blood that normally flowed through the Selcouth gods’ veins.

“Oh did I hit a nerve?” Pixel’s grin was wicked and their pupils narrowed “You’re exactly what you think your brother was. Is that why you killed him? Did he remind you too much of yourself?”

“Shut,” Match’s voice was only a whisper but it cut accross the silent air of the prison like a knife “Your fucking mouth.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe that was a bit much. Hey I know! Why don’t we be friends instead? I think you’re a piece of shit but hey a shitty friend is better than no friends!”

“I’m not going to be your fucking friend you freak.”

“Well too late cause i’ve already decided you’re my friend! In fact I’ll promote you to my BEST friend because I ain’t got no one else! Because my last batch of friends were fucking MURDERED. But hey! It’s fine! I can move on!”

“Sounds like you’ve got some problems, and I don’t want anything to do with them.”

“Yeah well, you’ve got problems too! You killed your fucking brother! You’re an entitled piece of shit! This’ll be a great friendship! Just two pieces of shit trapped in dark lonely cells cause no one else in the entire world gives a shit about either of them!”

“You can stop talking anytime now.”

“Do you think if either of us died here anyone would notice? Are we just going to be trapped here forever until one of us starts rotting away?”

“Dragons come up here multiple times a day. I think they’ll notice if one of us died.”

“Yeah but like would they care? I wonder what they’d do to our worthless corpses? Neither of us would get a funeral that’s for sure!” Pixel clawed and kicked at the walls of their cell, tears falling from their eyes “This sucks! This fucking sucks! I hate this! Trapped in one shitty place to the next! I fucking… hate this…”

Pixel slumped to the floor, silent for once.

“Done with your little temper tantrum?” Match growled.

“For now,” Pixel sighed and took a deep breath. They just needed some rest and then they’d figure a way out. So they shut their eyes and drifted off.

#tcotg #clan ton theon #pixel is having a bad day

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rarestereocats · 6 years ago

Text

We all step into the new captain's quarters to go over what our next plan of action. We need to gather as many useful crew members as we can in this town or we'll be stuck in port for awhile. We decide doing some recon is a must in this place, so well part ways to tackle this task. TT and Antic visit the library to collect records on any nearby penal colonies, Owkbanok and Inami collect information on the whereabouts of several plantations, Amelia and Tonari get word of a prisoner ship coming in the next day as well as a slave ship arriving in a month's time, and me and Nathan case the prison by magical means as I jot down anything that may be of use to our plan. With that, we all reconvene to swap information and go over everything. The penal colonies are off on some islands and given that we can't get out of the port without a crew to row our ship, that's off the table for the time being.

The prisoners on the ship will likely be taken to the prison in town, so our best options are a prison break or hitting up the largest plantation in the area to liberate the slaves and hope we can recruit them. Hitting the prison first will have all eyes on us, so we decide to go do some recon on the plantation and hit that first. It's a few hours out of town, so we hitch a carriage ride, the driver a young human man by the name of Finn who's fate was sealed the minute TT whispered to me that we should kill him afterwards. After all, he might hear things he shouldn't and we don't want him turning around and selling our asses out and as the ride goes on, we all start to make him more than uncomfortable. With each word out of our mouths, Finn grows more and more scared as we hint to an early death for him and ask him needlessly personal questions that trigger his alarm bells even further.

This boy's sweating up a storm and trying to convince us that he's never exposed anyone's secrets and doing anything he can to butter us up so he doesn't die tonight and for awhile, we all consider leaving him be once this is all said and done. But upon reaching our destination, I can't take the risk of our plan being passed along to the town guards, so I ask dear Finn for a hug. He's hesitant, but after a moment, leans in for an uncomfortable hug and promptly gets my dagger to his spine and his body deposited in the nearby rose bush. We take a gander at the land before us, taking note of the guards and fields themselves, but also where the slaves are kept in the evening. With that, our current plan is to have Owkbanok go in and pose as a slave as this is a human owned property and it appears any half-orcs here are kept as such, so his presence as anything other than that might be alarming. So we hold onto his gear for him so it isn't stolen away and with that, the rest of us go to speak with the owner of the property.

It's all to gain entry into his home so we can take him out later to free the slaves, but for now, we all exchange pleasantries and pretend to make a deal to buy a couple tons of grain. The deal's set and we ask for a place to stay and this clueless man offers us rooms so long as we pay half of what we agreed upon for the grain. This works wonderfully for our plan as a gnoll servant leads us to the rooms, TT asks her to leave her master's bedroom door unlocked and we'll all keep her safe. There's only three rooms, so TT and Nathan take one of their own, leaving me and Amelia to share a bedroom. And as the Slut Squad usually does, we pound it out (I swear it's just to pass the time) and it's in this moment that I realize there's something different about her. Did she do something with her hair? Is it her perfume? No, you see, everybody; Amelia here isn't as human as she claims to be.

She's a changeling; the offspring of hags and beings that hear a spiritual "call" to discover their origins after a certain age. Now Amelia knows her parents...or what she's assumed are her true parents. The King and Queen of Carlo Rose, two perfectly normal humans. She has no idea about this changeling stuff and is offended when I bring it up and tell her about how a hag is her mother. She's in denial and doesn't believe me, which is fair considering my wild conspiracy theories I lay on this party when I'm high, but still; I've hunted enough magical beings to know their true natures when I see them. It's clear it's something she's not willing to entertain though, so I drop the subject. Though c'mon, what's better than boning and then immediately trying to make somebody question their own humanity afterwards?? With the silence becoming uncomfortable and Cayde losing his shit at the door because Owkbanok's in trouble, I get up to take him outside as I'm thinking he just wants to go run around.

It's very clear once I step out that he doesn't want to play as there's the stench of blood in the air and Cayde is still losing his mind. Because while the rest of us were getting cozy, poor Owkbanok was getting manhandled by guards and having no choice but to grin and bear it for the sake of the plan. He gets a little too lippy with them and after he punches one of them in the face, they demand he go gather up the other slaves so they can bear witness to his punishment. This gives him the perfect opportunity to pick some of their brains about the revolt one of the guards mentioned and he learns the slaves have been planning it for a month. They easily outnumber the guards and have been stashing some weapons for when it all goes down, to which Owkbanok ensures them that it'll happen soon enough. Once he gathers the crowd, the guards make an example out of him, whipping him within an inch of his life before going back to their posts and some orcs kindly drag him back to their cabin so he can rest.

Knowing Owk's in trouble, I secure his sword and some healing potions to Cayde's harness and turn the leopard loose. He manages to sneak through the property, finding the orc cabin and pushing his way through the rotted wood in the back to avoid the guard posted at the front door, and Owk's relieved and grateful to see the care package. The other orcs help him stash his weapon as it's more than clear that the revolution begins tonight and back at the manor, the rest of us have reconvened in one of the bedrooms to figure out the next step. TT's going to sneak into the bedroom to take out the guard that's been posted in the master's chambers and then take him out afterwards, and possibly even his wife. But her plan falls to pieces as the guard doesn't immediately die from her attack and she trips, stumbling back through the bedroom door and into the hallway, alerting the rest of us that it's go time. I take out the master easily enough, Cayde mauling his wife afterwards, but the guard manages to slip past us like he's a walking stick of butter until Nathan puts a crossbow bolt in his back.

With Amelia's new guard zombie, Shaun (of the Dead), kicking down the glass door to the outdoor world while we all scream about a riot, the slaves on the property know it's go time. Owkbanok immediately sets his sights on the guard he nearly whipped him to death, hitting him with some scorching rays while TT works on toppling the guard towers. Nathan sets one on fire and me and Cayde just work on culling the herd of guards that are quickly getting overwhelmed with the entire situation. It's not a good day for any of them considering we're not even giving them an inch to breathe nor surrender and anybody that tries to flee is taken down easily enough. In all the chaos, some of the slaves take this as a chance to escape themselves, so when the dust finally settles, there's only a whopping 28 of them left and the 3 house servants who were busy packing up loot for us during the battle.

Owkbanok gives them a speech, letting them know who we really are and that we're seeking recruits. They don't have to come along, but anyone who does gets 300 gold for signing on and 25 of them agree to join, 28 once we ask the house servants to join us. We can't take a bunch of liberated slaves into town, so TT has her parrot fly back to the ship with a note to tell our crew to meet us at the shoreline with the rowboats so the slaves can get directly to the ship. TT and Owkbanok handle escorting the slaves to the shoreline while me and Amelia gather up the valuable horses and loot and go directly back to town. Understandably, the ruckus has caught somebody's attention finally and as a squadron of guards tries to stop us on the road; we both pretend to panic and fear for our lives. These guards nearly catch our bluff, but we escape by the skin of our teeth and once back in the town, we quickly load up the horses and get settled for the night.

The other group is gone for h o u r s as the shoreline was much farther than they anticipated. They travel through the night and morning, all of them dead tired when the shores are finally in sight and they all clamber aboard the rowboats. While we're all worried for our crewmates, me and Amelia take our stress out on each other, bickering like a couple who's spent 40 years too many together. We take verbal jab after jab until things turn physical as she goes to kick me, but I flawlessly trip her ass...only for her to trip me to the ground with her after. It seems the wires that separate "arguing" and "foreplay" have gone terribly amiss for the two of us cuz while our friends are out there struggling to get back; we decide to have yet another tryst in order to forget about our problems. Eventually, the others finally arrive back by nightfall and we can all take a breather and help our new crew get settled in before we tackle the prison break.

#adventures of the volunteer fire department #oc: huey romero #game: pathfinder pirates

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bnha-heroofheadcanons · 6 years ago

Note

shoto x fem reader. fem reader used to be part of the league of villains but ran away when she was nine. she has a huge fear of kurogiri and shirogaki and when the attack on the usj happens, her past with them is revealed

hmm~ these sort of reveal things seem popular and they’re cute to do~

~~~

You had been kidnapped shortly after you were born, your mother and father were rising star heroes and the people who kidnapped you wanted to have you in case you ended up with a useful quirk. Kurogiri was the one who took you from the hospital, everyone was scared and upset when you went missing, your mother and father never stopped searching for you. Unfortunately as soon as you started understanding things Kurogiri and Shigaraki started trying to groom you into thinking that heroes were very bad and horrible people. It mostly worked and once your quirk developed as they’d hoped it would; a combination of your parent’s quirks, they were thrilled and immediately made you start doing work for them. You did some pretty awful things for them, but these people were awful and horrible heroes! They didn’t deserve the mercy of the League of Villians that Kurogiri, Shigaraki, and their Master wanted to build.

However…during one of your intel missions, Endeavor appeared, he fought the ones who the League were using to take down this one little hero agency but also…saved the people who were being crushed under the rubble. It startled your nine year old brain, because weren’t heroes supposed to be bad? When you return that night you start secretly watching heroes do work and quickly realize no, you’re the bad one. There’s a measure of trust from Kurogiri and Shigaraki so you’re left alone at night and that same evening…you pack a small bag of your most precious belongings and escape the League. Kurogiri can never figure out your exact location or coordinates so it’s very easy to hide from them. Eventually though you realize how actually horribly Shigaraki and Kurogiri treated you and have developed a fear of them.

You’re nine and don’t really have anywhere to go so you end up living as a homeless person on the streets for a few months, before, in a twist of fate you hadn’t expected Endeavor; the hero you were a fan of, found you, “What are you doing kid?” He sounds a bit angrier than you thought he would, so you flinch and curl in on yourself, knees to your chest. “Don’t be a coward and speak up.”

The underlying anger is upsetting but you do finally answer him, “I…ran away from something bad…I don’t have anywhere to go.” He asks what your quirk is; an odd question but you hold up your hands as you explain, “A blend of electricity and wind abilities. It’s not really all that special, I can gather intel mostly. The wind can carry voices from fairly far away on it to my ears; my hearing is exceptional to help with this and electricity for jamming or enhancing cellsignals.” You blink up at Endeavor who’s staring at you now with…interest?

“The way you talk…kid what sort of organization did you run from?” You clam up then falling silent, you’re smart and know admitting you ran with a League of Villains will probably hinder whatever this number two hero was thinking about. “So some sort of villain organization then.” He guesses and then proceeds to pick you up with your bag and carry you with him. “You’ll make a report to the police and then you’re going to be fostered for awhile at my home. My son needs a good training partner, you should have some combative abilities if you ran with villains after all.” It doesn’t take much from there for things to be set in motion, you tell the police where you came from, you beg themnot to make any of this public though, doing so would reveal your coordinates and put you in danger of being taken again. So even though you’d like to find your parents, you decide, at nine years old to forego that situation and just let them decide where you should live. It was as Endeavor had said and they turned you over to his custody.

Months turn to years in no time, you’ve grown to hate Enji Todoroki as much as Shoto does, he’s always trying to make you two fight each other and never once refers to you as anything but ‘Shoto’s precious training partner’ even though you’ve been adopted by him. You and Shoto have never seen each other as siblings either, more like best friends who comfort each other from Enji’s wrath. Still, you can’t be wholly ungrateful, you’ve gained a lot of combative abilities and your sharp mind makes you an ideal training partner for anybody honestly. Both of you apply for UA, Shoto gets in on his dad’s recommendation but you have to do the practical exam. You wipe the floor with nearly every other score, you were trained by Endeavor after all; even if no one knew it. Your score even beats out Bakugo’s and he is very angry about it, when he finds out who you are…let’s say he often ignores Deku in order to torment you, he calls you “Air bag” a lot.

You and Shoto are close, everyone notices it, but neither of you mind, it’s only when, one lunch break you two have fallen asleep leaning against each other that your classmates start calling you the wonder couple. Shortly after the teasing starts Shoto sighs hanging his head and just sort of grabbing your hand, “That teasing made me realize something. You’re my best friend in this world but also mean more to me than that, only around you do I ever feel something aside from animosity. So…maybe we should start dating? I know my father adopted you but you refused our last name and I don’t know, you don’t feel like a sibling to me.”

You giggle, just a little because your smile is a rare thing since you started living with Enji Todoroki, “Right, I feel the same. We’ll have to keep it on the down-low from your father obviously but…well I won’t stop training with you just ‘cause you’re my boyfriend, we want to be heroes right?” He nods his agreement and you both walk home without talking much more, your relationship has always been more of a silent and powerful one.

The next day you and Shoto are teased relentlessly again but this time you both give your class just soft smiles, startling them into silence, because neither of you ever smile. The bus ride quickly becomes overwhelmed with their class teasing Bakugo into anger as they head to their rescue class. At the building; known as USJ, everything begins fine enough, until you notice a purple and black warp gate appear behind Aizawa-sensei…and just scream. It makes everyone jump and Aizawa spins on his heel to face the enemies. Nobody but Endeavor knew about your origins, you kept it secret because…who would trust you if they knew you used to be one of those fanatics? Your scream doesn’t go unnoticed however and Shigaraki’s eye focuses on you. “Hey! It’s our little intel gatherer! It’s been awhile~ How’s my favorite pawn been?” The way he says it makes it sound like you’re the one who turned traitor on the school and fed these villains the information.

“Shut up Tomura!” You screech, you’re overwhelmed by fear though and have immediately started to retreat into your own head, Aizawa jumps away with a stern warning directed at you and you flinch trying not to cry, because of course your past would catch up with you, you should have been up front from the beginning. “I’ll…become a hero, I will, no matter the price.” You hop back to your feet, knowing how fast Kurogiri is, “watch out! and don’t attack the warp guy’s mist it won’t hurt him!” In an instant there’s a purple warp gate behind you and Kurogiri is reaching for you.

“You’ll be coming back with us I think.” You scream never and dash forward, despite your earlier warning Bakugo and Kirishima do precisely what you told them not to. All of you are wrapped up in the gate, and you just pray that things will work out. You’re all teleported away and of all the people you get put with, your dropped next to Shoto. Immediately your nerves light up and you glance at Shoto who is staring around you guys hard, it’s then you realize you’re surrounded by enemies and you immediately put your back to his.

Shoto knows it’s a bad time for this but you’re the only one able to drag out his emotions, so as you two begin to fight, lightning wind and ice flying everywhere he yells at you, not angry but just sounding hurt, “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were closer than that!”

“I was scared okay? It’s not an easy thing to just bring up in conversation! ‘Oh right Shoto I used to run with a league of villains and I gave them intel on the people they fucking killed!’ Yeah it sounds real good doesn’t it? Would you have even gotten so close to me if you’d known?!” You yell back panting slightly because you’re heart was beating too fast thanks to your electric powers. “I’m jumping!” You yell and the moment your feet are off the ground Shoto freezes the rest of the villains with a massive ice burst covering every inch of them. When you land he is right in your face, nose to nose with you.

“You’ve never had any reason to be scared of me, I’ve never given you one. I wouldn’t have held it against you either, you became my best friend through adversity, I would have been way more messed up if you hadn’t been there. So don’t tell me you’d think I’d turn my back on you because you used to work for these people. You’re here now, part of UA and you got in on your own strength, you want to become a hero just like me.” He’s very quiet but he’s obviously very angry, not because you used to do villain work, but because you thought so little of him. You open your mouth to say something but he holds up a finger, “Hold on. They said something about killing All Might, I need to find out their plan.” He walks away from you, your mouth hanging open and approaches the villains, “You know…if you stay frozen like that your skin will start to rot and you’ll start to die of the frostbite, now I want to be a hero and that’s not what heroes do, but you’re going to have to tell me what you’re planning and how you’re supposed to kill All Might.” The crook instantly blabs and Shoto melts them before turning back to you. “We should hurry, come on. We’ll talk more later.”

Without another word you dash off after him, sort of staring at the ground, when you two arrive, in time for Shoto to freeze some weird creature with an exposed brain, you’re basically running on instinct and don’t really remember what happened. Aizawa grilled you, the other students watched with concerned gazes, the police explain your situation, since it’s common knowledge to them. They’d called your time with Enji rehabilitation before you’d been officially permanently placed in his care, now everyone knows that technically you and Shoto are family, but have never really acted in a familial way, just very close friends. You also explain to your classmates the situation and why you’ve not shown up in stories in newspapers and stuff, because of the warp gate villain Kurogiri, who had escaped with Tomura. One of the police officers pats your head, “It’ll be okay I’m sure, you’ve more than proven you won’t go back to the villains I think.”

Shoto walks up to you finally and places a hand on your head, asking if you want to talk now, “At home…” Is all you say and you stick to your word. “Apparently…I was stolen from a hospital. It was probably Kurogiri’s doing, he was a pretty patient guy and when I was really little I think I even saw him as my father because he’d practically raised me while Tomura was at the knees of our Master. My quirk, a perfect balance for intel gathering was just a pawn on their board, and an attempt to give Tomura a companion. He…wasn’t a nice boy however…and did some pretty awful things to me, I think I repressed some of it but either way, I was groomed to be their tool. Funny enough though…it was your dad and his hero work that made me finally notice that ‘wait are all heroes bad?’ I’d admired him as a hero for awhile and I ran away from the league, I was homeless for several months, had to steal food to eat when he happened to find me…and you know the rest.”

“Being with my father though…How did you not eventually go back to believing heroes were evil?” It was a surprising question, one you hadn’t expected and your whole face turns a brilliant red, you tell him it’s no big deal but…he smirks and grabs your hand, teasing you, “It can’t be that embarrassing, come on tell me.”

You cough and turn away from him, mumbling quietly your answer, “Because of you. Endeavor wasn’t nice but his son was amazing and powerful and sweet…and wanted to be a hero. So maybe…Endeavor is the outlier and Shoto is the majority.” You mumble it, knowing it’s childish logic but still it makes Shoto blush and feeling brave you kiss his cheek before knocking him over and cuddling up to his left side. “Listen…could you not leave until I fall asleep? I’m worried I’ll have nightmares.” He nods and pets your head settling next to you for awhile, though when you do fall asleep he’s not exactly inclined to leave.

~~~

I’m so sorry anon! TwT It suddenly got very long. Well I hope you enjoyed it anyway! I had fun doing it!

#shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha blog #bnha headcanons #bnha endeavor #todoroki enji #shiragaki tomura #kurogiri

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stereksecretsanta · 7 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, @scientificallyfrostedtrenchcoat!

Hello! I started out with something sweeter, but I reread your requests and decided to go another route. It’s a little dark and bloody, but hopefully sweet? I hope you enjoy it!

Read on AO3

—

A Revenge Story

Derek awakens to the slow knitting of bone and muscle. His brain feels raw and exposed as the world begins to swim back into focus. The cold concrete under him, for once, feels comforting, but the harsh blue light from the fluorescents, sting the back of his eyeballs and fires a sharp wave of pain into his skull.

His body feels sluggish and heavy, his mouth is sour and dry. Distantly, he can pick out a faint whispering, something low and foreign that Derek isn’t sure he would understand even if wasn’t concussed. Eventually, enough of the haze lifts that he can flex his left hand.

“Hey, welcome back, big guy.” A familiar voice quips.

Derek groans and tries to roll himself forward towards the bars. A flare of heat explodes into his veins, making him hiss and clench his entire body.

“Take it easy. They gave you quite a beating. You also got two doses of wolfsbane running through your system, so it’s going to be awhile.”

He waits for the burning to subside into a tolerable throb before he stretches one of his hands towards the water bowl near the front door of the cell. Gradually, he pulls it closer to his face and leans over to take a long drink. His vision is clearing but his head is still pounding.

“How long was I gone?” He rasps.

“Six hours.”

“Shit.” Derek glances towards the new empty cell in their row. “Where’s Faye?”

The witchling offers a wan smile. “She’s gone.”

“It’s too soon for them to take another.” Derek forces himself onto his elbow and tries to think against the stream of pain. “We’re supposed to have at least two more days.”

“It wasn’t like Jacob.” His voice tightens with emotion, but he clears his throat to smooth it into something calm and even. “Our kind don’t last long under these conditions. Faye was old and a caretaker, she wasn’t trained to endure this sort of damage, it’s amazing she lasted this long.”

It’s odd to hear those words coming from the boy’s mouth. Stiles hardly looks like an adult, especially with the patchy hint of stubble along his jawline. Out of the sixteen that once shared this block, Derek had not expected Stiles to survive this long. He was lean when they first arrived and a month later the boy was starting to get skeletal. Under the drugs Derek feels his wolf reaching out towards the boy, trying to offer comfort through non-existent pack bonds.

“Stiles…”

The witchling shakes his head so Derek foregoes asking a question he knows the answer to. Instead, he redirects their attention to the plan.

“How long do you need?” He asks, settling himself back onto the ground.

“Need is not the question.” Stiles dries his wet face with the back of his hand. “Rest. I’ll tell you when it’s dinner time.”

–

Derek is startled awake by gurgling noises and thrashing outside his cell. Stiles is kneeling on a guard’s chest, the man’s face mask is pulled up to his hairline, and Derek can see the violent red blush begin to bloom into a rich purple, as Stiles’ long fingers weave tighter around the man’s throat. A few months ago, watching something like this would have soured his stomach, now he can hardly look away. After everything that has happened, Derek feels like he needs to watch, if not for his own sanity for the others who are no longer with them, like Faye.

It doesn’t take very long. There’s one final squeaking attempt to breathe and then the man’s bloodshot eyes roll back, staring blankly into the inside of his skull.

“Nice of you to join the party, big guy.” Stiles says, a little winded. “You wanna grab that keycard so we can get out of here?”

He spies the fallen employee ID near his water bowl and makes quick work of the door lock. The wolfsbane is mostly out of his system but the sudden blood rush combined with adrenaline makes him dizzy. Stiles picks through the guard’s pockets, taking various items.

“Cameras are down but we have ten minutes until the shift change.” Stiles hands him a stun baton and a wallet, before offering up his wrists. “I’ve only got a little juice left but removing the iron could buy us some time.”

Derek frowns at the shackles. There’s a bolt of iron pierced through each of the witchling’s forearms. The skin surrounding the metal looks gray and black in some areas, like the skin and muscle are already dying. While Stiles is clearly more than a human practitioner of magic, Derek’s pretty sure he still bleeds like a human. Removing these might be okay in the short term but wasn’t it better to leave them in?

“C’mon you giant furball, any day now!” Stiles shakes his arms impatiently.

He rolls his eyes and focuses on snapping the bindings off and pulling out the bolts. The metal hisses and the smell of rot steams out of the dark fleshy holes. Derek can see a white slit of bone, nestled amongst decaying muscle. Stiles clenches his jaw, muffling his own screams as, his left arm is worked on. There’s no blood, only a milky green puss that only seems to become more potent the longer it’s exposed to fresh air.

“Thank you.” He sighs, shuddering with relief.

Derek grunts a response, gritting back the need to gag, and quickly shoves the witchling towards the entryway.

They encounter and dispatch two more guards. Derek struggles to pull their shoes off while Stiles rifles through their pockets. He collects another wallet, a gun, and a set of keys. They climb a few flights of stairs and push out into an empty parking lot and find themselves nestled deep in an abandoned warehouse district. It’s late…or possibly early, either way the only source of light is a street lamp a few buildings up near, what has to be a main road. Derek pushes all the buttons on the keyfobs until a pair of headlights flash. He turns to grin at Stiles only to realize the boy is staring up at a faint light in the third floor window.

“Stiles, we have to go.” Derek urges, gently pulling his upper arm.

“I don’t think I can.” He says quietly.

“What. What are you talking about? Of course you can, the next shift is going to be here soon!”

“I need to know.” The adrenaline from their escape pulls back and is exposes something calm and cold. “Someone did this to us, Derek. What if they’re doing it to other people? I can’t leave without knowing.”

They watch one another for a moment. Stiles wounds are still oozing. He’s certain the only reason the kid hasn’t passed out yet, under the dual weight of exhaustion and malnourishment, is pure stubbornness. Derek isn’t in much better condition, as the last dose of wolfsbane is still working its way through his system. Every instinct within him is screaming to get them to safety yet he can’t move.

Stiles’ face softens and he places a clammy palm over Derek’s hand.

“C'mon, Derek. Let’s finish this.”

–

They watch the warehouse fire from the ‘comfort’ of a Motel 6. They’re in some shittown in New Mexico. Stiles powers through fifteen tacos and half a pizza before crashing. Derek only manages half that before throwing up, he settles for half a liter of soda and Stiles’ leftover pizza crusts. After his stomach feels more settled, he bundles their trash, grabs a discarded blanket, and settles into a chair to keep watch.

–

He rouses late into the evening to the sound of Wheel of Fortune and the smell of greasy Chinese food.

The witchling doesn’t look as emaciated, his face is a little fuller and the holes in his arms have healed over into angry, purple glossy circles. The scent of infection is gone and replaced by a bitter anxiety and medication. He has freshly washed clothes that look a size too big and smell heavily of cheap detergent. Considering their situation, Stiles is practically a beacon of health.

Derek shifts off the scratchy comforter and stretches his limbs. His spine pops and cracks, sending a blissful relief through stiff bone. For the first time in weeks, he feels normal.

“I guess wolves really are nocturnal.” Stiles smirks over a square takeout box of noodles.

He tosses a bottle of water, Derek catches and drains it greedily while glancing around the room. There’s a variety of snack food and take out spread over the twin bed, and the floor is littered with empty containers and candy wrappers. There’s also a new pair of backpacks and a old worn duffle that smells like the car they stole.

“You’ve been busy.”

“I require more calories than sleep.” Stiles preens at the haul.

“I can see that.” Derek nods towards the devastation of food items and grabs a carton of kung-pow shrimp from the nightstand. “Besides the shopping spree were you able to figure anything out?”

“The last thirteen hours have been enlightening.” Stiles nods slurping another mouthful of noodles. He expects the kid to elaborate, but Stiles idly digs at his food instead. “I want to let you know I appreciate you helping me last night. You had a chance to make a break for it but you stayed anyways.”

“You expected me to leave you after all that?” Derek offers him a small smile, but Stiles is focused on digging for stray peanuts. An odd weight settles between them as the witchling mulls over his next words. “No, you were right, no one else should have to suffer like that.”

The kid gives him a small smile, soft and personal before glancing towards the pile of backpacks. “Look, it’s not much but the black backpack is yours. It has everything you need to get you as far as Sonoma. There’s a bus stop about a mile up. I suggest keeping a low profile until you reach civilization.”

“I don’t understand.” Derek furrows his brows. “What about you? What about the information you stole?”

“I sent it off to an associate to decrypt. I was able to do a little researching on my own. I have a pretty good idea where one of their safehouses is.” Stiles tosses the carton into a trash bag on the floor. “I think I have a thirty-two hour window before they move another shipment.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with Sonoma?”

“Nothing, but I said I would be your ticket to freedom, thus Sonoma.” He waggles his fingers in a jazzy fashion. “This is where we part ways, wolfman.”

“You’re cutting me out so you can take on these bastards by yourself?” Derek says incredulously. “You’re still healing!”

“Hey, you weren’t looking so hot with poison in your veins either, pal.” Stiles glares. “I’m not as fragile I as seem.”

“You’re still not up to fighting capacity either.” Derek stabs his chopsticks into the half eaten container. “I’m coming with you.”

Stiles laughs. It’s an oddly boyish sound but lacks real mirth. “Look, spilling a little blood because you’re trying to escape, that’s understandable, it’s excusable. This…this isn’t. This is going to be a revenge story, black cowboy hat, John Wick shit. Not everyone has the stomach for that kind of business.”

Derek narrows his eyes.

“Yeah, well not all of us like to sit on the sidelines, witchboy.” Derek growls. “After a month of torture and seeing all those people be taken to who knows where, I think a little revenge is in order.”

Stiles examines him for a moment, contemplating the lines in his face.

“Are you really sure you want to kick in with me, wolf? It’s a long way down this rabbit hole and it won’t be clean on the other side. Can you live with that?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds like this is the start of a terrifying relationship.” Stiles grins, eyes bright with mischief.

—-

The first safe house is only a three hour drive away from the motel, hidden away amongst an odd patch of suburbia surrounded by miles of nothing. It’s a little past midnight and the silence coating the cookie cutter houses is oppressive. They park beside a black Ford pick-up and quietly cycle through the stolen keys until one finally works. The interior is sparse, save for a fold-up table and a few matching chairs. The living room has a selection of restraints, tools, and cages. Clearly, this safe house is some sort of makeshift processing area.

Derek hears two slow heartbeats coming from the second floor, and another pair under the floorboards. Splitting up would be efficient but potentially messy. Starting in the basement could be problematic because of the lack of exits, upstairs seems to be their best option.

Stiles takes the room on the left and Derek heads down the hall on the right. Much like the bottom floor, the room is unfurnished. A man is curled up on a barren mattress against the far corner of the room, far from the window. Derek softens his steps, carefully inching closer. The man reeks of cheap gin and copper; medical tape and gauze haphazardly decorate the right side of the man’s neck, all the way down to his bicep. The bandages are stained with varying shades of blood and there’s a sharp sour undertone, buried beneath the stench of alcohol. His wounds are beginning to turn.

Derek nudges the man’s shoulder, uncurling him along the mattress, and exposes a series of scabbed circular bites along his torso. The pattern is unfamiliar but reminds him of leeches.

Down the hall, a muffled scream is quickly stifled by two silenced shots. Stiles appears in the doorway shortly after, gun raised, and gives him a questioning look.

“You wanted to leave one alive, right?” Derek asks quietly, clearing away the weapons under the pillow.

Stiles clicks the safety on his weapon and moves to examine the man for himself.

“You’re more spiteful than I thought.” Stiles’ eyes glitter mischievously. “The venom is already working its way through his body, it’s too late for an antidote. His kidneys will go first, then his liver.” Stiles pulls out some zip ties from his pocket, and begins binding the man’s feet. “Loop his wrists to his belt, leave his cellphone.”

–

They hit a snag, clearing out the basement. The collector’s slowed heartbeat is misleading, she’s not asleep just at rest, thumbing through her text messages and playing solitaire with a deck of cards. Once their feet reach the last step, she opens fire on them. Stiles quickly dodges to the left but Derek is too slow and hot metal pierces into his left shoulder, lodging itself into his muscle but not breaking through to the other side. The next few shots narrowly miss and tear divots into the concrete behind him. Inhuman growling and clanging metal, adds to the chaos of gunshots. Stiles launches himself across the room and pins the woman against the wall before she’s able to reload. Her gun and cartridge clatters to the ground as she struggles against Stiles’ hold.

Derek presses a hand over his wound and finds most of the damage is already healing. He debates trying to fish the bullet out so he won’t have to dig it out later, but they probably won’t have much time after all that noise. He let’s Stiles handle the woman and turns his attention to the person in the cage.

The growling stops as soon as he crouches down, both taking a moment to size the other up. The wild mop of hair and dirt make it difficult to tell what the person underneath looks like. The shifter’s clothes are torn, non-descript, and entirely too big for their frame.

“Hey. It’s okay. We’re going to get you out of here. Alright?”

Milky eyes glare up at him through the waffled grate. A series of circular, sucker-like mouths with rings of teeth begin to surface under the creature’s flesh; clicking open and closed before diving back under and surfacing in a new location.

“What the–” A wild snarl interrupts him as the shifter begins slamming its face against the side of the cage. Frothy spit and black blood splatter onto the floor as it continues to throw itself towards Derek.

“He’s feral. They’ve probably been feeding him mercury laced-meat, it kills the mind and makes the venom more potent.” Stiles says quietly, settling the now pilant semi-conscious guard back into her chair.

“They’ve been feeding him mercury laced-meat.”

“What, why?”

“It kills the mind and makes the venom more potent. He’ll fight like mad until his body gives out. Perfect for underground fighting rings.” Stiles explains. “I’m pretty amazed you bunch actually caught someone like him. You should be grateful that we’re the ones taking care of you instead of his sire.”

“Go to hell, monster.”

“You first, sweetie.” Stiles chides before turning back to Derek. “You should put him to rest. Whoever he was has already been burned out. He’s just a nerve cluster now.”

Derek frowns but picks up the discarded gun and fires two shots into the shifter’s face.

–

The interrogation isn’t very helpful and as far as revenge goes, it’s utterly unsatisfying. The woman is too low ranked to know anything useful, her phone is far more viable because of the code sypher. ‘Exotic’ supernaturals are brought to this location and sorted through for private buyers to bid on. Derek can only imagine what other sort of creatures have been drugged and damaged for market, it only makes him feel slightly better about putting this one out of its misery.

“Don’t worry, Wolfman.” Stiles says as he hot wires their new car. “The next one will be better.”

—-

The next one is better.

With the sypher from the phone, Stiles’ contact is able to get a lead on the next big transport. It takes a few days of driving, but they finally catch up with the semi-truck 20 miles south of Odessa, Texas. Derek takes two bullets to the chest, but it’s the first time since they’ve escaped that he feels alive.

Derek keeps the car steady as Stiles shoots out the back tires. The truck struggles to rebalance itself and eventually skids off the road into the desert scrub brush. The doors of the trailer fly open and a pair of disoriented and irritated guards stumble out. Stiles picks them both off before they can go for their weapons. The third manages to pull his gun from his holster but doesn’t get a shot off in time. He hits the bed of the trailer with a heavy thud and slides off the back on top of the other bodies.

Stiles gives a short whoop as he pulls himself back through the window. “Did you see that shit? Triple head shot, baby!”

The show of skill is pretty impressive, but Derek gives him a sobering look, pointedly gesturing to their current situation.

“Don’t even front, Wolfman, you know that was badass.”

They follow the truck off the road and immediately bail out just as the driver and his passenger start firing. A bright flash hits the side of their van, leaving a smoldering basketball sized dent. Derek feels the breath cool in his lungs as the temperature suddenly plummets.

“Magic, they have…magic.” His voice is steady but disbelieving.

He’s gone a second later and there’s a crackling explosion in the distance, chorused by gunfire. Derek uses the distraction to take out the humans. He plunges his claws into one of the guard’s neck, but misjudges his own strength. It’s disturbingly easy to sink his fingers through flesh and muscle. The spray of blood and the immediate overflowing gush is unlike anything he’s felt before. The wolf howls joyously at the successful kill, but the human part of his brain stumbles over the action. By the time he slides his claws out, the man’s head is barely holding on to its body. Only a small chunk of muscle and spine keep it from snapping off.

Derek staggers back, transfixed by the dark glistening of his hands. A sudden swell of pride warms his chest, Derek isn’t sure how he feels about it. He’s killed before, both with his hands and with a weapon, but never anything close to this.

A sharp thud, collides against his chest and shakes him from his reverence. Two more bullets thump against the solid lining of the kevlar vest, blooming more ripples of stinging pressure over his sternum. He races forward, as the guard unloads the last two bullets, missing once and landing final through Derek’s bicep. He guard chucks the empty gun at him, backing up to pull out his side pistol, but Derek upsets the shot and yanks the weapon from the man’s hands.

He feels the wolf rise to the surface of his mind, melding perfectly with his own deadly intentions. They play. Slowly, picking apart the man’s defenses while drawing him closer. They let him get a few hits and watch as he desperately pulls out new weapons, becoming more frantic as each opportunity is stripped and tossed away. This time when they go for the neck, the strength is measured. The crunch of bone echos into their hands and up the forearms.

The kill is clean, contained.

They howl.

It takes a long moment to pull back, to settle back into one flesh. Derek leans against the side of the trailer and slows his breathing. The fighting on the opposite side of the truck has died down. He sorts through the litter of thudding heartbeats until he finds a familiar rabbit-quick pulse. He focuses on that until the ridges on his face smooth and his claws retract. His gums still itch with the phantom pressure of his fangs, but he feels stable. He wipes his hands on his pants, smearing sweat and blood along the already stained material, and gets to work rifling through the main cabin of the truck.

It’s a better haul than their first attempt.

Within a few minutes of searching, he’s already found a laptop, a handful of marked maps, and a ledger. He idly flips through the notebook, looking over more code, lists of dates and other numbers he can’t make sense of. Outside, he can hear soft whimpers under the steady thrum of Stiles’ voice.

“..twisted fuck. Your magic was a gift and this is how you use it? You willingly turn against your own kind, help those fucks sell us for parts, dress us up for slaughter for what? Money!?”

“Don’t…please…” A voice gurgles.

“They put iron in us, do you know what it’s like to be cut like that?” Stiles voice takes on a deeper echo, something ancient…primal. There’s a soft squishing and the druid cries out again. “It aches, like hunger. It festers in the bone, makes you feel heavy and brittle at the same time. Do you know how long we last like that?”

“I had nothing to do with that! I only help with transport.”

“I don’t need supernatural healing to know that’s a lie. The moment I let you have a taste of what I could do your eyes lit up. We’ve found one of your ‘processing centers’, how much would those private buyers bid for me, hm?” Another squish, followed by a crunch. “Where were you taking your shipment?”

“Please…I don’t…”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, buddy. There is no spin to this. No one is coming for you and I’m certainly not letting you leave here. Your only options are slow or fast, and trust me…I can be downright meticulous when I want to be.” He vows quietly. “Now, where were you taking them?”

Wet breaths lift through the tension of Stiles’ silence until the druid finally resigns and accepts his fate.

“…there’s a processing warehouse in Barstow. From there they’re either shipped out to LA for international sellers or to the one of the main hubs up in NorCal, bu-but I don’t know which one!”

“Then you can give me all of them.”

It only takes a little more pressing before the man rattles off a list cities. Derek finds a pen in the glove compartment and begins jotting them down on the back cover.

The druid breathing becomes erratic and a low groan of agony pitches into a terrified scream. Copper and burnt cedar color the air as the light from inside the truck’s cabin becomes brighter and brighter. The sweat slick hair on the back of Derek’s neck prickles and struggles to stand. A strange pressure crystallizes, thinning the air in his lungs and making him dizzy. He feels stretched thin and then suddenly the moment shatters, snapping everything back as if nothing happened.

The druid’s heartbeat is sluggish but steady, while Stiles’ is now racing at the speed of a hummingbird’s.

Derek stumbles out of the cab, leaving everything behind and lumbers towards the sound of the frantic beating. The knitted balaclava covering Stiles face is gone, tucked into his back pocket, and his exposed face has taken on an opal-esque glow. His whiskey-eyes are now two pieces of molten gold, constantly churning. The lights fade, taking with it the bruises and hard-set exhaustion, leaving an inhuman luster.

“What did you do?” The man rasps. “Why can’t I…what did you do?”

“I’m repaying you for a friend.” Stiles says, stepping back. “She was old but managed twenty-eight days, let’s see how long you last.”

–

The trailer has three shifters, two mages, and one kitsune. All of the shifters are out cold, but the humans are still awake and bound in iron. The kitsune is struggling to keep conscious. She’s young, probably around college-aged, and not in full control of her abilities– as Derek can see the faint outline of her fox hovering around her. She’s got a deep gouge across her forehead and her right leg has a jagged piece of shin bone exposed.

“Are they dead?” she asks as Derek kneels beside her cage. He nods and for the second time that night, Derek comes face-to-face with something ancient. “Good.”

–

The locks take minutes but shuffling three sleeping shifters and one injured kitsune takes longer than either he or Stiles are comfortable with. They keep the restraints on because, Derek would rather not deal with three shifters waking up and thrashing around as they’re trying to cross into New Mexico. The drive is mostly quiet, save for some soothing attempts at small talk. The older woman’s name is Paula, she’s only been with the group for a few days. Bobby and Kira have been there the longest, three weeks. Paula doesn’t like talking much about what happened, Bobby can’t remember how he was taken, and Kira was mind-whammied at a cafe while she was studying for finals.

Stiles tries to play off this information casually, choosing to fiddle with the radio like he’s looking for something to fit the ‘after rampage’ mood. He can’t hide the slip of Other that slowly gathers in his eyes. Being hunted by humans is one thing. It’s commonplace and expected ever since the old families have fallen. Having your own kind hunt you for profit from humans, is another level of fucked up.

The group says their goodbyes in Roswell. Both Stiles and Bobby think it’s hilarious but Paula looks entirely done with the whole situation. Two of the shifters are from big packs in California and Washington, the Navarros and the Tams. They assure Derek they’ll inform their Alphas and urge them to take this to the Council. Stiles doesn’t seem entirely convinced the Council will do anything, but perhaps having two packs vouch for them might at least save them from any backlash.

Kira is the only one to linger.

“I…remembered something else.” She says quietly, glancing over her shoulder at the retreating group.

Bobby is nearby waiting, not wanting to let her out of his sight until she’s safely on a bus back home. Kira gives him a half smile before turning back to them grimly.

“A few weeks back we were moved from a warehouse to some house in the suburbs. An old man showed up in one of those…newsie caps with some men. They talked to our kidnappers, I couldn’t hear what they were talking about but the man handed him a book with this symbol on it.” She motions for Derek to hand her the pen from the ledger and draws it on Stiles’ palm.

Before she can finish the outline, Derek feels his eyes fill with red and the world contract around a flash of blonde hair and honeyed words. White hot rage clashes with bitter shame as the beast within him howls and snaps its jaws. He can distantly feel the heat from the flames and taste the ash on his tongue. The dread of almost losing everything, everyone sinks in his stomach and he can’t stop the growl that slips through his fangs.

“Derek, you wanna ease up a little there, buddy?” Stiles says lightly.

Derek glances up for a moment, surfacing from the smoke of his memories. His hand is clenched around Stiles’. Kira’s brow is twinged with concern and Stiles is watching him so intently, Derek wonders if the kid can actually read minds.

Derek loosens his grip but doesn’t let go. “You’re sure this was the symbol?”

She nods. “I just thought he really liked the Saints, but after that I started seeing it everywhere. Some of the other people in suits had it tattooed on the inside of their wrists.”

Derek let’s Stiles’ hand slip from his grip and settles back, numbly against the seat.

“So this means something, it’s not just a crazy football cult?”

“It’s an old hunter monicure for the Argents.” Stiles informs, still watching Derek. “Only those associated with the original line use this symbol. The family fractured awhile back. Not many people come across the original line these days, some say they returned overseas to their mother country.”

“I don’t…I’m still really new to all this. My mom–” She frowns, clears her throat and redirects. “My mom’s been around longer, she might know something about all this. She’s got a penchant for gathering information, she’s just not good about sharing it..”

The lights in parking lot flicker and Bobby looks around as if preparing for danger. Stiles chuckles and turns his attention back to a sheepish Kira.

“I’m going to give you the number to a friend of mine. Her name is Satomi, she’s not a kitsune but she’s might be able to help with that.” He says, taking the pen back and scribbling on her palm. “And if your mother breaks the lock on her information storehouse, you can contact me with this number.”

—-

They ditch the van a few hours later for a crappy Volvo from the 90s and find a cheesy nearby ‘inn’ that looks untouched from the 60s. The old woman at the front desk doesn’t even bother to lift her head up from her book, just snatches the money and hands over the key.

The room is surprisingly clean for the shoddy exterior. There’s still a lingering smell of semen, drug sweat, and floral cleaner, but it’s more tolerable than everywhere else they’ve stayed. Stiles immediately collapses on the bed and it takes every ounce of remaining strength not to follow after. He’s tired, both physically and emotionally. His wolf wants to nestle against the boy’s throat and sleep for days. After the last sixteen hours, Derek might let the wolf win.

He just wants to shut his brain off and not think for awhile. He doesn’t want to think about his time in captivity, or tearing a man’s throat out. He doesn’t want to think about what exactly the fuck Stiles’ is because whatever happened in that desert wasn’t like any magic Derek had ever seen before. He certainly doesn’t want to remember the fire or anything to do with that woman or her insane family.

Stiles rolls onto his back and stretches languidly, moaning loudly from the relief of a few cracks and pops. The wolf whines at the invitation of firm belly flesh. Derek busies himself with setting their bags down and barricading the door.

“Will you stop for a minute and come lie down?” Stiles rebukes, loudly thumping the mattress with an open hand. “I feel like I’m being held together by rubber bands and you can’t be doing much better.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you haven’t noticed your eyes have been flickering since we left that UFO diner.”

Derek catches a glimpse of his reflection in a picture frame and sighs. Behind him, Stiles is grinning and smoothing a hand over the empty side of the bed.

“C’mon big bad, time for a well deserved nap before we hit the books.”

“Someone should take watc–”

“Oh c’mon. You’re as dead on your feet. The last time you tried to take watch while you were exhausted you fell asleep ten minutes later.” Stiles scoffs. “I’ll put a ward up as soon as you lay down. We’ll be shocked awake long before anyone tries to break in. Now, would you please get in the damn bed?”

Derek begrudgingly toes his shoes off and settles onto the mattress. The springs groan under his weight and Stiles chuckles victoriously.

“We did good today.” Stiles tells him. “Kicked some ass, got information, saved some people. Networked, that’s always key after a kidnapping.”

“Yeah. We did.”

After all the action from the night before, sharing such a close space without fear or vigilance, somehow feels overwhelming. It’s a strange thing to think about. They’ve been lumped together for over a month. First, separated by metal, then struggling to heal and feel unencumbered in their own bodies again. Laying side-by-side with the potential to touch is almost daunting.

Derek can practically feel time slow and extend. His hand itches to move closer, to brush their arms if only to just see if he–at least the human side, could be near someone again after everything.

In the end, Stiles makes the first move and rolls over, slipping against Derek’s side.

“Stiles…” He grits out, trying to steady the uptick in his pulse.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you wolves are tactile creatures.” He says innocently. “I figured now that we’ve upgraded from torture bros to vengence bros, that’s gotta be closer to pack, right? At least a temporary one.”

The wolf preens in agreement. Derek clears his throat, trying not to let himself get too comfortable when he feels so uneven.

Stiles inches back, glancing up at him. “Maybe…It’s something I might need too.”

The teasing grin has sobered into uncharacteristic nervousness. Stiles is rarely anything short of cocky, especially when he’s being terrifying. Seeing him suddenly so open puts Derek at ease. Heat climbs into the tips of his ears, but Derek ignores it and pulls Stiles down against his side with a grumble.

“Alright, just…don’t ever call us vengence bros again. You sound like an idiot.”

Stiles laughs. “What about The Revengenators?”

“Hard pass.”

“How about…” He falters. “Okay, I can’t brain anymore. But when I get four hours of sleep and at least two pizzas in me, be ready for a brainstorming session.”

“I could always smother you in your sleep.”

“Nah. You’d miss me too much. Who else you gonna revengenate with?” Stiles says assuredly, wriggling into a more comfortable position.

The wolf chuffs contentedly, as if this isn’t entirely new territory.

“Shh, you’re brain is too loud.”

“You’re too loud.” Derek grumbles back, only to be shushed again.

Stiles’ hand finally comes to a rest atop his chest. Long fingers idly trace letters and symbols along his ribs, erasing and starting again. It only takes a few minutes to completely relax into the other man’s touch. At one point, Stiles plays out a few games of tic-tac-toe before building out a more complicated design. Derek reciprocates by swooping his thumb gently over the curve of Stiles’ spine and gets a tighter snuggle for his effort.

He slips into a light dose.

“You’ve met them before, haven’t you?” Stiles asks quietly. The haze of sleep quickly evaporates at the question. “You’re a Hale, you’re that Hale.”

Derek stills, his hand sliding away.

Stiles shift onto his elbow and watches the conflict pass over Derek’s face.

Suddenly, his mouth is bone dry and his skin feels too tight. He feels naked under Stiles’ thoughtful gaze.

It’s been years, since the fire and hearing. The case was settled and sealed, the Council ordered the Argents to fracture their line and Kate was to be executed or sent to the Wylds. Derek never knew which they chose, didn’t care at the time so long as he never has to see her again. Despite all this, it didn’t stop people from talking or embellishing. There so many insane rumors about how it had been a lover’s plot to gain the Pack’s land and holdings, and not the machinations of a bloodthirsty predator.

Derek had been lucky enough to have grown out of his familiar baby face. Most people couldn’t remember what happened to that one Hale, who almost burned their entire family.

Now, after all these years, someone knew…remembered.

He waits for the inevitable turn, the scoffing, the judgement. How could you be so stupid? How could you let her into your home? Why didn’t you kill them?

But it never comes.

After what feels like an eternity, Stiles finally smiles and threads his fingers through Derek’s beard. He nearly buckles at the tenderness of Stiles’ touch. A wave of warmth floods into his chest, swallowing up anxiety and doubt. He can feel the pull between them, faint but stronger, the beginning of something precious.

“You’re kind of amazing, you know?” He says fondly. “And to think when they first threw you in that cage, I thought: ‘There’s no way this guy is going to make it. He’s too pretty to be useful.’”He teases.

Derek chuckles softly. “Me? You were the sucker’s bet. Twiggy, loud-mouth. No way you were going to last two weeks.“

“I guess we’re both suckers, since we turned out to be secret badass survivors.” He grins. “So, it looks like this revenge tour just got a little more interesting. How’s about it, Wolfman, you wanna destroy and empire with me?”

“Sure.” He says, curling Stiles closer. “Why not?”

#scientificallyfrostedtrenchcoat #stereksanta17 #*fic17 #*gifts17

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gffa · 8 years ago

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I say this pretty much every week, but it’s still true every week–this is a collection of fics that I’m really, really glad exist in the STAR WARS fandom, there are some that are just absolute gems that should be shoved in people’s faces because they’re just so good. Some fics that are the kind that make my brain all fizzy with how much I enjoy them and how satisfying and/or heartbreaking and/or joyous they can be. All the things Star Wars should be! ✦ untitled by fireflyfish, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k “You should be inside,” a voice says, painfully familiar. “The desert can kill with cold just as easily as with heat, Master.” ✦ Family by lilyconrad, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & darth maul & cast, sith!obi-wan, 6.8k Seven years after the duel on Naboo, Obi-Wan Kenobi has turned to the dark, Maul has turned to the light, and young Anakin is caught somewhere in-between. Can Qui-Gon rescue his Padawan before it’s too late? ✦ Oversharing by glare-gryphon, obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, 2.4k In summary: it was about Obi-Wan feeling it every time Anakin & Padme have sex & getting frustrated about it. ✦ Pies, Books, and Swords, obi-wan & qui-gon/tahl, 1.2k Qui-Gon Jinn has made quite a good name for himself, as far as holonet cooking shows go. ✦ wonderterror by peradi, han/leia & han/luke & obi-wan/anakin (maybe?) & anakin/padme & cast, 6.5k The Skywalkers aren’t entirely human. Here’s what that means. ✦ The Question, Twenty Years Late by Eirian Erisdar, obi-wan/satine & luke, 1.2k Set just post-ROTJ in a timeline where Satine survived. Waiting alone for an emissary from the newly-formed Imperial Senate to demand Mandalore’s fealty to the Empire, Satine is surprised by an unexpected guest, holding a very precious bundle. ✦ Dreamers by LuchaDoRa, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.2k Obi-Wan dreams sometimes. So does Anakin. ✦ Sigh No More by edenwolfie, obi-wan/anakin/padme & ahsoka & luke & leia & cast, 158.2k wip Anakin makes slightly better choices, Obi-Wan is a Mess™ and Padmé deserves none of this. AU from Mustafar onward with liberal manipulation of canon to culminate in some angsty, fluffy, domestic fix-it because we all deserve better. ✦ Broken by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin & rex & padme & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan (sort of), dark themes, 20.8k wip The Twins are unstoppable enforcers of the Emperor’s will, the sun and moon that hang in the black void of his rule. It is said they are not the same age and that under their hoods they do not look alike, but they fight as one entity, silent and terrible as an eclipse in a spring sky. ✦ No Galaxy for Good Jedi by Annie_Walker, obi-wan & anakin & padme & qui-gon & dooku & yoda & cast, some obi-wan/satine, sith!qui-gon, 124.8k wip Obi-Wan Kenobi was only a young padawan when he ran away with three-year old Anakin. He had no choice after his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, fell to the Dark Side by Master Dooku’s manipulations. ✦ untitled by albaparthenicevelut, obi-wan & anakin, accidental pirate obi-wan, 1k Obi Wan was in Scarif, which was concerning actually. Obi Wan Kenobi, Rebel Operative, Dashing Duke, and Pirate King, should not be within a system of the Empire’s top secret military research base, much less in the very city in which it was located. ✦ and gravity, scientists say, is weak by victoria_p (musesfool), obi-wan & anakin + referenced obi-wan/satine, 3.2k “You’re not the only one who’s ever been in love, Anakin.” ✦ Rest by copper_sky, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k Anakin has a huge weakness for having his hair played with and a sleepy Obi-Wan indulges him. full details + recs under the cut!

✦ untitled by fireflyfish, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k “You should be inside,” a voice says, painfully familiar. “The desert can kill with cold just as easily as with heat, Master.” This is a short snippet based on a text post that’s theorizing about what we might get from an Obi-Wan Kenobi movie and, good god, is it painful and perfect. The spectre of Anakin Skywalker haunting Obi-Wan on Tatooine, some undefined combination of maybe the Force or maybe just a hallucination, and it’s almost gentle in tone, it’s almost comforting, except that only further emphasizes the loss, it only makes it hurt more. It’s beautifully written and so very heartbreaking and absolutely in line with what I imagine Obi-Wan went through on Tatooine. Gorgeous and hurtful, just as it should be. ✦ Family by lilyconrad, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & darth maul & cast, sith!obi-wan, 6.8k Seven years after the duel on Naboo, Obi-Wan Kenobi has turned to the dark, Maul has turned to the light, and young Anakin is caught somewhere in-between. Can Qui-Gon rescue his Padawan before it’s too late? I don’t know how I missed this fic until today! But, oh, I really loved it, as it’s such a manipulative and angry Obi-Wan, who seems to care about Anakin in some way, but also absolutely uses him and isn’t with him for entirely altruistic reasons. The surface may be similar in a lot of ways, but it’s such a different character from canon (in exactly the way it’s supposed to be!) where he loved Anakin so much, where he would never have used him for such selfish purposes, though, in almost any universe, their connection and their sheer chemistry is still alive and crackling. I love the moments with Qui-Gon, who carries such a heavy weight, whatever he is or isn’t responsible for with Obi-Wan’s path and the loss of Anakin, he feels the weight of it on himself anyway and I felt so much for him, all the more so because he desperately did want to put things right, but wouldn’t cross certain lines. And Maul maybe not being good, but not being the creature of hate, not being the Sith that he was before! And the ending! All of this was really, really fun and captured my imagination and wrote some lovely interactions we don’t see much (Maul talking about how he found himself and Anakin similar! such a lovely and deft touch the fic had with that!) and was perfect as it was. ✦ Oversharing by glare-gryphon, obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, 2.4k In summary: it was about Obi-Wan feeling it every time Anakin & Padme have sex & getting frustrated about it. Holy christ, my brain just about melted from the hotness of this fic. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to write a coherent rec for it! It’s one of those that hit my id perfectly, but is also really beautifully written, and the combination just pretty much made me incoherent for how much I loved it. Anakin being a provoking brat about knowing that Obi-Wan shares his experiences when he’s with Padme, that she knows the effect they have as well, those two beautiful little smug shits, is great just to begin with, but doing so to get a reaction from Obi-Wan? To provoke him into shoving Anakin down onto the bed, to give Anakin what he wants, which is to be fucked until he doesn’t have to think about anything else, knowing that it will carry over to Padme, what he’s experience, what Obi-Wan is doing to him, that the three of them combine through Anakin, all things I am really, really here for. It’s got so many great little details, the way Obi-Wan is so caringly, lovingly vindictive about it, the way Anakin comes while riding Obi-Wan, but then is flipped over so Obi-Wan can fuck him more thoroughly, really take his time with Anakin, really get joyful revenge on Padme as well, that he describes Anakin enough to make Padme groan, because Obi-Wan is a master of really good, happy revenge like this. But also, wow, does Anakin really, really enjoy when Obi-Wan does this and I’m just. Going to maybe keep this one on my reader for awhile longer, because it was so lovely. ✦ Pies, Books, and Swords, obi-wan & qui-gon/tahl, 1.2k Qui-Gon Jinn has made quite a good name for himself, as far as holonet cooking shows go. My only complaint about this fic is that it’s not at least 30k long and I can’t read more of it because, oh my god, it is fucking precious and absolute delightful. Little toddler Obi-Wan is the most adorable thing I have ever seen and there are so many little moments that had me practically cooing at my reader or just outright laughing because they were so perfect. It’s one of those things that sounds almost too fluffy, but there’s a sharpness to the writing and genuine hilarity to the timing of it and the imagery presented, so it’s one of my favorite things that I’ve read recently. Little moppet Obi-Wan stealing the show is the most precious thing and I WANT MORE OF THIS SO BADLY OMG but also this is perfect the way it is. ✦ wonderterror by peradi, han/leia & han/luke & obi-wan/anakin (maybe?) & anakin/padme & cast, 6.5k The Skywalkers aren’t entirely human. Here’s what that means. This was a neat, fun little piece about mixing Lovecraftian horror with the Star Wars universe and what that means for Anakin Skywalker, literal child of the Force, and his children. It was just really fun to see the way some people were in awe of them and some people were terrified of them and I’m always down for things that play with the Force in a universe where things work differently from canon! This was a delightful read today. ✦ The Question, Twenty Years Late by Eirian Erisdar, obi-wan/satine & luke, 1.2k Set just post-ROTJ in a timeline where Satine survived. Waiting alone for an emissary from the newly-formed Imperial Senate to demand Mandalore’s fealty to the Empire, Satine is surprised by an unexpected guest, holding a very precious bundle. I have a very desperate wish for post-ROTS fic where Obi-Wan goes to a still alive Satine to stay with her and this fic really makes me want that 100k epic of it, but also it’s lovely just as it is and, oh, the understated emotion and sheer amount of loss Obi-Wan is wading through here, how he’s still Obi-Wan Kenobi even when he’s been laid bare before her, with so little left of himself, that she’s the only spark still left of who he is, that and this precious bit of Anakin he still has in his arms, the innocent life here. And the reunion between Obi-Wan and Satine is lovely and perfect and it’s heartbreaking but also hopeful and beautifully written. I loved this one a lot. ✦ Dreamers by LuchaDoRa, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.2k Obi-Wan dreams sometimes. So does Anakin. The author’s notes say this fic was written a long time ago and that was something I felt while reading, like it had been written back when the fandom atmosphere was different, like Obi-Wan being thought of as someone who definitely always follows the rules, etc. But where this fic got me was in the second half, where Anakin is being a brat, trying to ruffle Obi-Wan with details of his dream, but Obi-Wan just looks him dead in the eye and not quite smiles and tells him to keep going and that is 100% the Obi-Wan Kenobi I know! Anakin egging Obi-Wan on to get a reaction out of him, to provoke his Master into shoving him up against the wall, to wrap Anakin’s legs around him like in his dream, to push him down onto the bed, until Anakin is out of his mind with desperation to please, please just fuck him already, all of that was also great. The sex itself was also nice, as Obi-Wan takes care to properly open Anakin up first, to not just shove roughly into him, the wait to finally push into Anakin, then having Anakin ride him while guiding him, all of that was very, very nice and exactly what I’m here for. Anakin being a brat and biting off more than he can chew when Obi-Wan finally responds, yesss, I will read a thousand stories about that if I can! ✦ Sigh No More by edenwolfie, obi-wan/anakin/padme & ahsoka & luke & leia & cast, 158.2k wip Anakin makes slightly better choices, Obi-Wan is a Mess™ and Padmé deserves none of this. AU from Mustafar onward with liberal manipulation of canon to culminate in some angsty, fluffy, domestic fix-it because we all deserve better. New Rec: I believe I’ve recommended this fic at least once before? But now that it’s up to 22 chapters, I’ve caught up on the fic and it was time to write a fresh rec for it. I do have a few things you need to just roll with the fic for–that the characters go hide out on Tatooine instead of fighting back, that Obi-Wan is often more indecisive than he would be, that Anakin’s emotional problems tend to go away more easily than I think they would. But the point of the fic is to write a really long, really revel-in-it story about the domesticity of these characters on Tatooine, to just wholly embrace digging into the slice of life stuff in this remote, isolated area where it’s just the three of them + the twins + Ahsoka. It’s a story that has the room to breathe with the characters, that it’s not about dragging things out, but instead that the whole point of the story is that slow, incrimental moving forward with the relationship(s). It’s a story that I pick up when I want something where the characters are (for the most part) taken away from galatic level action and instead are given something like a peaceful life (as much as one can get post-ROTS, of course) and I just want to roll around in something that’s hopeful and kind. The length is nice as well, because it really gets across that this is a story that’s meant to be a slow burn and a slow build even once things finally do catch fire. As mentioned, I don’t feel like it’s dragging things out, but instead that the slow process is the whole point, that it’s about building their relationships, their life here, step by step. It’s domesticity and slice-of-life and really reveling in it to the fic’s heart’s content. But also omg I admit I’m definitely here for the sex scene, because Anakin and Padme are adorable, Obi-Wan and Anakin had a very pretty frottage scene earlier, but then chapter 22 was exactly what I wanted–where they finally have the time and both are in the right place for something more intense, something deeper. And, boy, does Anakin find that he enjoys being held down, that he has Obi-Wan’s attention all on him, that he likes the way he feels when he’s pressed down onto the bed and held there, when he’s filled up with Obi-Wan, who opens him up with such care and affection, until there’s no other noise in his head, that all the anxieties and fears and insecurities are pushed out, as Obi-Wan pushes into him. I’m really not kidding that I will read that a thousand times because Anakin needs it a thousand times and Obi-Wan being able to give that to Anakin is so good for him as well. There’s also a lot of cute stuff with Ahsoka coming and going, watching the twins grow up, and more! But I can’t lie, I’m here for Anakin Skywalker, my precious child, getting the happy life I always wanted for him. ✦ Broken by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin & rex & padme & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan (sort of), dark themes, 20.8k wip The Twins are unstoppable enforcers of the Emperor’s will, the sun and moon that hang in the black void of his rule. It is said they are not the same age and that under their hoods they do not look alike, but they fight as one entity, silent and terrible as an eclipse in a spring sky. Chapter 5: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter, rather than the fic as a whole. This chapter reminded me all over again how heartbreaking this whole story is, to see how much of Obi-Wan and Anakin have just been forever lost, that there may be embers left, but who they were are really and truly gone. And it was difficult to read because it implies what must have been truly soul-breaking to get them to this point, to see them so destroyed in spirit and so afraid and so pliant to what Sidious orders them to do. Seeing it through Ahsoka’s eyes, the contrast against how you know this won’t be a happy ending of a story, they’re too gone, there’s not enough left, they’re just empty shells of who they used to be, only the most basic of instincts and connection to each other left. And it’s so sad, but also beautifully done, that even if maybe I have a little hope that they might get a bittersweet ending (and I’m not prepared to hold my breath on that, but either way I’ll be satisfied, I know I’m not reading a sunshine fic here), and I know I’ll have a lot of feelings along the way. Plus, the bits of clone world building with the way they look at strong enemies, really just gave me a lot of feelings, like… it’s not better this way, but there is at least something to hold onto, however small it is. I feel like that describes so much of this fic, too! ✦ No Galaxy for Good Jedi by Annie_Walker, obi-wan & anakin & padme & qui-gon & dooku & yoda & cast, some obi-wan/satine, sith!qui-gon, 124.8k wip Obi-Wan Kenobi was only a young padawan when he ran away with three-year old Anakin. He had no choice after his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, fell to the Dark Side by Master Dooku’s manipulations. I have a handful of caveats about this story to start out with–the writing really needs a good scrub with the beta brush, as there are constant typos and misused words, up to half a dozen of them on almost every page of the story. I mention this to encourage readers past it because the writing underneath that is very solid and very easy to just read, read, read, but I had to be in the right headspace for it, I admit. Second, there’s a lot of fairly minor details of canon that don’t really work with the story, including that Qui-Gon as a Sith isn’t really how Sith are in canon, it’s more the Soft Sith thing that fandom loves–which, by the way, I am totally fine with! Third, this is an Obi-Wan who isn’t quite like the majority of canon, he’s much younger and more all over the place, but that works for his age, where he’d be about as old as he is in TPM. And, finally, I admit that the Obi-Wan/Satine stuff felt like it came up a little too fast and kind of derailed the fic until it got back in track. I mention these things not to give a back-handed compliment, honest! I wouldn’t have read well over 100k of fic and kept coming back for more if I thought this was a bad story, but I genuinely want to encourage people to pick it up because it’s very much worth it, even if I might have skipped past it myself because of these things. Those things all said, holy crap, I definitely ate up this fic like you wouldn’t believe! The thing about the story is that it’s very solidly done, it’s almost one hundred and thirty thousand words and I felt like I could read that much more all over again if the author happened to drop it in my lap right this second. It caught my attention because the heart of the story, for all that it occasionally drifts off into other things, is set on Obi-Wan and Anakin’s relationship, that they love each other dearly, that they are the most important person in each other’s lives, and that was so incredibly satisfying to read. The fic winds its way through several twists and turns, there’s a lot happening and it’s not in any rush to get to the end, there’s plenty of breathing room here, in the sense that each section of the plot (whether they’re on the run, whether one of them has been captured by the Sith or the Jedi, whether they’re staying on Naboo or Mandalore for awhile, etc.) has plenty of time to have things actually unfold there, it spends time on each of these thigns. Yet I never felt like it was padding things out just to up the word count, it felt like each scene was there because that’s what the story wanted to be focused on in the moment. That may sound like a weird thing to focus on, but when I read longfic, one of the major things I’m wary of is a story that’s just endlessly dragging things out, so many scenes that don’t advance the plot or the characters. With this one I felt like these scenes were the point, that action happens just as often as it needs to (there are several fight scenes in the fic!), that it’s a story that’s not about rushing to the end, but about the long haul of this journey it’s on. Though, ultimately, what endeared this story to me is that Obi-Wan and Anakin’s older brother&younger brother (edging into something like father&son territory) was the heart of so much of the story, that pages and pages were dedicated to either their high octane antics and how desperately they didn’t want to be separated, how much they worried and missed the other when they were, how Anakin is devastated when away from Obi-Wan, how adorable moppet Anakin is and he’ll curl up against Obi-Wan when falling asleep, how there are moments of quiet domesticity that were a joy to read and soothed my soul. I enjoyed the plot of this fic a great deal, it hit me right in the genfic id places, but this relationship is what got me to pick up the fic and is absolutely the highlight of it, it’s what really got to me about the story and why I’m so glad to have read this one and look forward to every update! ✦ untitled by albaparthenicevelut, obi-wan & anakin, accidental pirate obi-wan, 1k Obi Wan was in Scarif, which was concerning actually. Obi Wan Kenobi, Rebel Operative, Dashing Duke, and Pirate King, should not be within a system of the Empire’s top secret military research base, much less in the very city in which it was located. I love the Accidental Pirate Obi-Wan thing that popped up on tumblr and this was an absolutely delightful addition to it, so silly and light-hearted and cracky in just the right ways, it just gleefully embraced everything that’s so much fun about the whole thing! Obi-Wan is handsome and dashing and everyone can’t help swooning over him and Vader’s so irritated by this (but also maybe kind of understands) and it just filled my heart with joy and light to read this short fic of Obi-Wan on Scarif with the Death Star plans! ✦ and gravity, scientists say, is weak by victoria_p (musesfool), obi-wan & anakin + referenced obi-wan/satine, 3.2k “You’re not the only one who’s ever been in love, Anakin.” This is one of the author’s sharper fics and I wound up enjoying it for all the feelings it gave me, the way Obi-Wan loved and continues to love Satine, but the path for them to be together seems impossible. It’s an understated fic, but that works well for what this is, a conversation between Obi-Wan and Anakin about Satine and the bloom of hope in Anakin that maybe he could tell his Master about Padme someday. And I love that it’s such a small thing, a small bit of understanding that Anakin gains on who Obi-Wan actually is, that maybe it could have changed things, because that’s how it is with Star Wars–sometimes the smallest things maybe could have changed everything, if only the galaxy had been a little kinder. This was a lovely read and put me right back in the mood for more Obi-Wan/Satine again! ✦ Rest by copper_sky, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k Anakin has a huge weakness for having his hair played with and a sleepy Obi-Wan indulges him. Oh, man, this was entirely soft and fluffy and sleepy and warm! It’s exactly what it says on the tin and that’s what I went into the fic hoping to get and I came out just feeling that content, nice feeling. It’s soft and sweet and, goddammit, sometimes Obi-Wan and Anakin need that, okay! This was a nice thing to cap my evening reading off with, just sleepy cuddles with Obi-Wan’s hand in Anakin’s hair, Anakin cuddled against his Master’s side, everything content and right in the galaxy in this moment.

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #obikin #obitine #obianidala #satine kryze #ahsoka tano #sith!obi-wan #star wars fic recs #fic recs

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ravengirl94 · 8 years ago

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Epilogue Reactions

@feelmyroarrrr reblogged and added

Aaawww!!

Thank you so much! Exactly the reaction I was hoping for :D

@pickupthatamulet replied to your post

Oh lord. This was so good. I got sad when i saw it was over. I swear i could read this for days. You are doing such an amazing job ❤

I was so sad that it’s over that I couldn’t let it go... and thank you so SO much, darling! Everyone’s support has been absolutely vital to this series and I really appreciate all the feedback!

@whatareyousearchingfordean reblogged and added

Give me the babies! Please? Ah I loved this so good….

This actually made me laugh out loud, so thank you! There are many of you shouting for babies... so... maybe

@natashacamillaus replied

ANOTHER ONE!😩❤️❤️

You know, it’s looking more and more like I can’t stay away from this series, so it’s likely there may be another one.

@kathaswings replied

Oh, this is perfect! I love to see them happy!

Aww, thank you! I was very glad to make Dean Bean happy, and you guys all deserved it after the stunt I pulled mid-series! But I have to say, I DID tell you that I’d make it all better. I feel like only half of you believed me, though :D

@dustycelt replied

I could cry I'm so happy

I feel you, I really do... thank you for reading!

@tas898 replied

One more, please! I ❤️ this story and these characters!

Thank you! It’s looking more and more like you guys might get another part out of me, but it will probably take awhile...

@jellersquad replied

*prays to every God that's listening that your brain cooperates* 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Cas seems to be all ears, so hopefully that praying will work out. I really appreciate it, because my brain can be a bit finicky. Between you and me, I’m willing to bet there will be another part at some point.

@docharleythegeekqueen reblogged your post and added

Oh my gosh this is so cute. I needed it this morning! The domestic life looks good on them. Beautiful work! I’ve loved this story so much! ❤

It definitely did not hurt that I recently watched the beginning of season six with domestic!dean. That is definitely one of my weaknesses, and to be able to write him like that was really nice. Thank you so much, darling! I can always count on you for some nice feedback!

@imma-fcking--nerd replied

Oh my gosh my heart!!! ❤❤❤ so great! Would definitely not complain of there was another one...maybe with some little Winchesters running around if your brain is feeling it 😉 as always, fantastic!

Oh, little Winchesters, you say? There seem to be a lot of you asking for that... so maybe there could be another part... ;) Thank you so much, hun! I appreciate it!

@maddieburcham1 reblogged your post and added

I need the proposal and the wedding and all the sweet sweet babies! I need it all! This was beyond perfect in every way

Well you just want ALL the things, now don’t you? (I’m just teasing, I want all the things too, don’t worry) I’m thinking there will likely be another part at some point, so don’t worry. Thank you, darling!

@melissaj616 reblogged your post and added

I love this story. It’s so well-written! And I’d love to see more if you feel like writing! Great job, beautiful!

Thank you, hun! That’s so sweet of you! And I would love to write more, honestly, so hopefully that will happen at some point! Thanks again, love! I appreciate it!

@duherica replied

It's so beautiful 😭😭

Thank you so much, hun! It’s always nice to hear from you, and I’m glad you liked it!

@milkymilky-cocopuff replied

OMGGGGG 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ please let there be a part 2 to the epilogue!! This series is so close to my heart! I'm not ready for it to be over!!!! Plus it would be cruel for us to not know how Dean proposes! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😇😇😇😇

There will probably be another part. No promises here, but it’s likely at this point. And yeah, there’s a lot of good stuff to tell still... including a proposal. Thank you for reading and for the feedback, hun! I really love it!

@jarpadandjensenaremyheroes reblogged your post and added

*fangirl screaming* omgomgomgomg I LOVE IT

Sorry, but this was all I could picture when I read this, and I love it! You made me laugh, and I appreciate that too! Thank you!

@hillface89 replied

Your brain and I need to have a chat. I need to know how he proposes. Kids? Honeymoon? Gah! So good!!

Okay, so THIS seriously made me giggle. You tell my brain. You tell it. Feel free to give it a good scolding, a pep talk, whatever you think it might need. And there seems to be a resounding PLEA for the proposal and kids and the whole nine yards, so that’ll probably be coming at some point. Thanks again for the feedback, hun!

@rhapsody-in-flannel reblogged your post and added

YES! The epilogue was amazing, and a sister series would be beyond awesome!

Aww, thank you, love! You’re so sweet, and that’s probably what will end up happening... just a million epilogues because I can’t let go of those two... darn... I know that’s very upsetting news to you all. *heavy sarcasm*

@keepcalmandcarryondean reblogged your post and added

I might have squealed a little when I saw that the epilogue to this goddamn awesome series is out and you certainly didn’t disappoint! Just as much as I love the series for being well written, funny, sassy, interesting and just the right amount of angsty, I love the epilogue for wrapping all the loose ends and for being so tooth-rotting fluffy! I’ve been in love with your version of Dean from the start and seeing him happy and content with the reader, without all his walls up, is making my heart jump out of my chest with joy. As weird as it might sound, I am gonna miss this series and it’s characters badly. They were portrayed in a really awesome way and unique. Still got some hope left for another epilogue (marriage and babies, hell YES!)

Um, squealing is totally appropriate, I do it all the time so that’s absolutely fine. And this feedback is so incredible, I don’t even know what to say. Except thank you. It means so much when someone reblogs and really has something to say about your work, so I want you to know that I truly appreciate this.And hang onto that hope for more, because there is likely more coming... everyone’s screaming for babies... so... you know...

@deanssweetheart23 reblogged your post and added

Oh my God. Oh. my. God. OHMYGOD TWIN. THIS EPILOGUE RUINED ME. THE ENTIRE SERIES RUINED ME AND THIS EPILOGUE WAS JUST… DEAR GOD, THERE’S NOT EVEN A WORD TO DESCRIBE IT. AND DO YOU FEEL LIKE THERE’S NOT ENOUGH AIR IN HERE ANYMORE. CAUSE I FEEL LIKE I CANT BREATHE. Okay.

Alright, twin. I can’t even adequately touch this reblog here. So let me just say thank you. Thank you for being you, for being a sounding board, a brainstorming partner, and the most supportive wonderful friend in the world. This series WOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED without you, seriously. You helped me when I got stuck, read over SO many parts before I posted, and kept encouraging me to keep going. So twin, read through all these reactions and know that YOU helped create what everyone is freaking out about. All of it is for you too. Love you, A.

@trexrambling replied

I've loved EVERYTHING about this series! A part 2 to this epilogue? Yes...yes please. Fantastic series, babe.

Thank you so much, darling! That means so much, and yes... a part two to the epilogue is likely coming at some point. No promises about when, and it likely won’t be soon. But yes. There will probably be more. Thanks again, I really appreciate it <3

@mogaruke reblogged your post and added

Such a great series! I have to be honest here and say that I truly never expected to spend any time reading this AU whatsoever. I found myself with some free time one evening and binged on 6 chapters in a row and was absolutely HOOKED. So very well written with amazing characters and situations definitely makes it a top 5 all-time AU that I’ve read. I’m sad to see it go but it ended on a beautiful note. Thanks so much for writing this for us!

Your honesty means a lot to me, and I can’t thank you enough for sharing! And thank you even more for your wonderful feedback and reactions throughout the series, they were wonderful to read. And... all time... top five AU... let me just restart my heart over here and try to keep breathing... holy cow, THANK YOU!

@xfanqirlinq reblogged your post and added

THIS MADE ME SO FUCKING HAPPY. AHHH!! (P.S. If there isn’t another epilogue, I will be very disappointed. I NEED A WEDDING!! XD)

Haha, I’m so glad this made you happy! And don’t you worry, there will most likely be another part. It may take some time, though so don’t hold your breath.

@nerdwholikesword reblogged your post and added

I need another part! 😍😍

Don’t worry, I’ll likely have another one for you guys because I just can’t let go of this series! I love those two too much, it’s just so fun to write!

@riversong-sam reblogged your post and added

Eeeee!

@ruprecht0420 reblogged your post and added

So much yes! This was a perfect wrap up, but I would always want more to this story! 💚💚💚💚

Thank you so much! I seem to always want to WRITE more of this story, so you may be in luck! Another part is likely in the cards...

@atari-writes reblogged your post and added

EMILY OH MY GOD!!!! 👏🏻BEAUTIFUL 👏🏻 i love this so much oh my god….the fluff!!! the happy ending!!!! it’s so sweet!!!! i’m screeching!!!!! GIVE US THE WEDDING AND ALL THE BABIES PLS

ugh Amber staahp you’re too GOOD to me! Thank you so much, you’re the absolute BEST. And yes, everyone is screaming proposal and wedding and babies (which is pretty funny, actually)... luckily for you all, I can’t seem to let this series go, so there’s likely to be more at some point! Thanks again, hun! Love you bunches <3

@scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala reblogged your post and added

just perfect… i missed them, and this was so fluffy and sweet. love it!

Thank you darling! I really appreciate it :)

@mrswhozeewhatsis reblogged your post and added

Man, I thought he was gonna do it right then and there. (And if you’re not sure which thing, then BOTH.)

So this made me laugh, and I really appreciate that. Definitely possible. You never know with Dean, haha

#epilogue reactions #the arrangement #you guys are the best

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