#Which gets some people’s attention both inside said barrier and outside it

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 203

Another Hydra prompt! Because I am enjoying the designs I’ve made lol. And perhaps it’s a bit inspired by @radiance1 ‘s different dragon prompts too. 

So they’ve succeeded! They’ve managed to combine their powers- with a bit of shapeshifting helped along by so many ghost allies- and become a giant duck-you dragon! Well, originally they were going to do something else, but they couldn’t agree on an animal, so dragon it was! 

And how mighty they are! They’re giant, absolutely massive- dwarfing the couple of skyscrapers still in Amity. Damages via ghost attacks and general sparring made it where people really didn’t want to rebuild those types of buildings. 

But anyway, dragon! Them! They’re absolutely stunning! And did they mention powerful? Because boy oh boy, are they powerful. The GIW’s guns do practically nothing against their combined might, and barriers shatter before them! 

The uh, issue is that they erm… can’t turn back. Which is fine, they’ve all sort of outlived most of their generation- thank you possessions and ecto-contamination, it’s just a tiny bit of an adjustment. But really it’s not too bad, and someone needs to stop the GIW from trying to poke their heads into Amity. Like it’s been a solid couple of generations, it’s time to stop, thanks. 

Actually they’ve been a bit quiet. Meh, that surely isn’t a problem. Probably. Honestly they’re all going to use the opportunity to sprawl out where the school yard once was, their favorite place to sun their scales. Huh. Usually more people are around now that they think about it- or really, as Paulina points out, sharpening her fangs on one of the rocks. 

…

How long had they been sleeping, because it couldn’t have been that long. One of them was always awake, they slept in shifts after all! Yet there are things missing now as they patrol the skies, both Wes and Tucker pointing out specific buildings that the others didn’t particularly notice usually that now lay empty. 

Hm. 

Oh. That is a… strong barrier there. A really strong barrier actually. Pfft, they can take it! They’ve shredded every barrier together before- Ow. 

…

Okay this might be a bit of a problem. Shit. 

You want a general size reference? :P

[shayberri789]

This got more attention than I expected so here it goes. I'll give a brief overview and then stick the rest under a page break

Basically: We have 6 main characters of note, but I'll talk about the other two later:

Dustin (AKA Dusker), who's 10yo in the novel and 17 in the game. He's a side character in the novel and MC of the game.

Kaitlyn, who's Dustin's mom. She's 30 something

Hamish, Dustin's father and Kaitlyn's husband. He's 30 something for a brief amount of time but ages to like 60 over the course of the story (for reasons we'll get to shortly). He adores his family more than anything and is a devoted father and husband. He gets depressed if he goes more than a few days without his beloved family :(

Amelia (AKA Chasm), who is Hamish's adoptive daughter and Dustin's adoptive big-little sister (time is weird okay, she was born after him but she's in her late 20s when she meets him). She's a record holding and Infamous Runner.

Premise:

Dustin, Kaitlyn and Hamish live in the City (which I need to name T-T). One day, Hamish returns from an out of town business trip to find a glowing barrier surrounding the City. No one can get in, and no one seems to be trying to get out. Many years later, People figure out a way to get past the barrier, and they discover that the City has been trapped in a 3 day timeloop for the last like. 2 decades. On the third day, the City resets to Day 1 (Think Majora's Mask, minus the terrifying moon apocalypse). Furthermore, the City inhabitants (Civilians) cannot see or be interacted with by anyone/thing from outside the city. Infiltrators can run straight through them.

After a while, they also figure out a way to smuggle items from inside the city out, where they discover that items taken out exist past the Reset, with a duplicate regenerated in its place at the advent of Day 1. Endless free resources! A system soon develops of people called Runners (or Ghosts, haven't decided which or if I like either of them) who break their way into the city and smuggle out resources using special items called Tokens. A whole outer settlement (and economy) spawns outside the City based on this. This is also when they discover odd drone like things (Like the hybrid child of Eve from Wally and a roomba, but it flies and has arms and lasers and weapons) they dub "Sentries" exist. Sentries will hunt down any anomalies to the City and try destroy them. They also discover that Dying in the City respawns them outside the city, unharmed, minus their tokenised items. Still deciding if people can only enter the city on Day 1, or at anytime. I think I had it that each person could only enter once per loop? Regardless, the longest time spent in the city is 21 hours and 14 minutes, set by Chasm (because its very hard to avoid other runners and Sentries when you're tired, and deep in the city). Everyone who stays in the City after 10pm on Day 3 mysteriously disappears, and is never seen again. No Runner stays in the City later than 9:30pm for this reason

The original title was "City of Produce" because of how people would break into the city for Produce, and because of the renewable nature of the resources, but I no longer think it fits.

Originally, this was going to be one story which followed Dustin - he was the first person from this universe who spawned during a daydream amv of "alarm" by the score, but after I'd figured out his backstory and rambled at a friend about it, he said I could turn that backstory into its own thing, since it had its own coherent story progression. So now I was stuck with two stories: one, a prequel (or book 1) following Amelia (and Hamish), and another (a sequel?) following Dustin and some friends as he tries to rescue his mom. and then @perihelion-crew-lounge said "this kind of sounds like a game" when I told her Dustin's story and I said "oh shit you're right", so now its Amelia's book and Dustin's Game. Both of which I still. need. to. title.

(I told you this was going to be long)

Amelia's story

So anyway Hamish comes back, finds the City is in lockdown, and nothing he can do will get him back in to his family. he's worried sick about them, and cannot bare to be too far in case something changes, so he settles down in the town outside the City and eventually grows to accept that no one is ever getting back in, and who knows if his family is still alive. Queue several years of depression, stress and grief.

After about I think I said a decade, he finds a young 6 year old girl who's just been abandoned on the City's outer limits, not far from the barrier, and because Hamish is a good guy with a bleeding heart and misses a family/loney AF, he decides to take Amelia in. And he raises her like the good dad he is, tries to ensure she gets a good education, does everything he can to ensure the both of them have a good life even though he had to literally start over from nothing. Amelia grows up on stories about Kaitlyn and Dustin, and she sees how much he loves and misses them, and she grows to love them too.

One day, she comes home from middle school with exciting news: They'd figured out how to get into the city, and over the course of the next few years, they discovered:

the timeloop nature of the city, and the reset parameters (including vanishing people)

the fact that sentries now exist and are violently hostile to anything from the outside

that they cannot die in the city; they just dissolve when 'killed' and reappear in the nearest available spot outside the barriers

that they cannot take anything out the city

they discover a way to take things out the city: Disposable "tokens" (sticker/label things), which will fizzle out when touching the Barrier while active, allowing the item to move through the breach

they learned, by studying the sentries, how to replicate their unusual weapons, which lead to a boom in technology

A small group of people who would later found the Guild got together and devised ways to abuse the time loop and gain resources, training Runners to go into the city to harvest resources, which they could either keep (they had to buy tokens from the guild), or sell to the guild for new money. The economy began to evolve around this system.

Note that the guild never penalised runners from stealing from each other within the city: afterall, no one was really hurt, and the resources they lost when they died would be picked up from the hostiles anyway. The issue came when people started seeking revenge outside the city; this is where people and teams started going by pseudonyms and masks to keep their identities anonymous, for safety and privacy reasons.

The guild offers/sells tools to Runners, regulating the system and maintaining some level of regulation and civilty amongst them, and streamlined/made getting into the city easier

Hamish, like many exiled residents of the City, was among the first volunteers to explore. There he learned that he could visit his family, but they could not see him, and he would grow old while they remained unchanging forever. it took him a long time to accept this

In high school, Amelia joined the guild as one of the early runners, and she got good. She's fucking smart, inventive/resourceful, and great at parkour. She became the best Runner in the guild, Chasm. She set the longest run ever: Almost a full day, and she won a motorbike for this achievement. She grew to know the city better than anyone else, even some exiled residents, and she did it all with the express purpose of learning enough to steal a person.

Upon graduating high school, she joined the tech company pioneering Runner technology: the people who figured out how to get into the City, who created Tokens, who were the leading Innovators in runner technology and weapons. she learned lots there and continued to Run on the side. Slowly, she built up teh trust and resources to create what she pitched as the first renewable Token, one which could survive the Barrier and even take out larger items, like cars and servers. The real purpose of the device is to take out people. Amelia still plans to rescue Kaitlyn and Dustin.

In the longest run she's ever done (left unrecorded by the guild because of teh fallout) (it was 34 hours and 15 seconds by the way), Amelia finds the pair just in time for Reset.

Her suspicions are confirmed: For the Two hour period between 10pm and midnight, time resumes past the time loop in the city, two countless hours where she does her bestest to convince Kaitlyn that they need to run and go, and to get out the city. Unfortunately, the Sentries are even more vicious during Reset than they are during a loop, and if you die now, you stay dead and your body will vanish upon reset (if you're an outsider and stuck in the city when the loop starts again, all anomalies cease to exist, regardless of if they were alive or not, their presence overwritten).

With ten minutes left, they make it to the barrier, but there's no escaping the Sentries. Because Hamish married a badass woman who is as brave as she is kind, Kaitlyn forces Amelia to take Dustin (who's 10 and afraid) and escape, because she will ensure her son's safety, and this young woman would have been her daughter in another life; is currently her beloved's daughter, and will die if she stays, So Kaitlyn holds off the Sentries, and Amelia escapes, and one of her prototypes is lost forever and the other one works. With major consequences. The Barrier lights up like a light show and absolutely fries everything touching it. The inside of the city is fine; it resets to normal in 10 minutes, the damage undone (and Kaitlyn respawns in her apartment, her son missing, and she doesn't know why, the last three days and two hours removed from her memory), but every guild outpost and half the satellite city is out of power for days. Thousands of tokens are fried. The barrier is volatile and ejects everything that tries to enter it for weeks. The whole economy stalls for like three weeks and Amelia is in so much trouble.

For the incredibly illegal move she pulled (upsetting the city, costing thousands of [currency] in damages, fucking up the city and taking experimental untested technology without permission (even though she built it), threatening the economy via reusable tokens and a case of (technically) kidnapping), Amelia is punished. She's fucking lucky she didn't get thrown in jail. But she's permanently banned from the city and guild, loses her job, is forbidden from working in anything related to the city again, and has to pay an insane fine and give up all technology she'd developed to her company.

She considers it all worth it though, watching the way her father (in his mid to late 60s now) tears up and hugs Dustin, the way their home feels... fuller and happier than before. She'd do it again, if she could, and she'd take Kaitlyn the next time. Except she has no avenues to attempt it.

So that's Amelia's story: it ends with her reuniting Hamish and Dustin.

I think. I will put Dustin's story in another reblog because hooboy this is long.

Gimme suggestions for the things I said above I'm unsure of, and most importantly: title suggestions please

Oh, and a last name for this family.

If I ramble (at length, believe me it would be a lot) about my most recent WIP (the city-in-a-time-loop one), would someone be willing to read it and please help me figure out a title

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 17

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 17 - This Venerable One's Shizun was Injured, This Venerable One is very. . .

What kind of Master of Ceremonies Ghost was this thing? They dealt with aphrodisiacs. At best, other people's aphrodisiacs would let average living people take about their prowess. This immortal was good. The dead could get hard with a small wave of the hand. The hand was truly a wonderful "aphrodisiac"!

He was watching with great interest when suddenly Chu Wanning stretched out his hand and covered Mo Ran's ears.

Mo Ran: "Huh?"

Chu Wanning looked extremely cold: "Such a ridiculous and obscene practice. Don't bother watching it."

"Then you should be covering my eyes. Why are you plugging my ears?"

Chu Wanning's face was expressionless: "Don't look, don't listen. Close your eyes."

Mo Ran: "Pff. Shizun, you are really. . ." He didn't even pay attention to his own red face. If he wanted eyes closed, he can do it himself.

Mo Ran couldn't help but be a little bit happy. Chu Wanning, a person made of ice and snow, had never even seen an erotic picture. At this moment, now that he saw intimacy up close, he would probably choke to death.

The dead couple came together, and gradually both of them became alive. Their dead throat, which was supposed to be silent, actually let out a raspy gasp similar to that of a living person.

Chu Wanning was obviously disgusted. He harshly turned away, not wanting to look again.

Mo Ran noticed this with great joy. He tried to get a rise out of the other. He smirked and knocked against his chin.

Chu Wanning quickly avoided him as if he were being stabbed: "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything." Mo Ran said sweetly and sneakily. With some sarcasm and teasing, he gave him a once-over like he was making a joke.

No matter how old this man is, this kind of thing still makes him blush. . .

No, it's more like a mixture of blue and red. It's quite funny.

"Shizun, didn't you tell us that we must see what the other party is capable of being doing anything? You should also see the ability of this Master of Ceremonies Ghost."

"What is there to see? Don't look."

Mo Ran sighed: "Why do you have such thin skin?"

Chu Wanning replied angrily: "It's improper and nasty. It really hurts my eyes!"

"Then I have to look at it." Mo Ran said, and he lay there nonchalantly. He looked outside again and he said, "Ah", "Wow", "Awesome", "Ouch" and so on. It made Chu Waning completely berserk, and the coffin board could not be held down. He whispered angrily: "Just look, what are you narrating for?!"

Mo Ran said innocently: "I thought you wanted to hear it."

Chu Wanning finally couldn't hold back. He strangled Mo Ran's neck, gritting his teeth: "If you make another noise, I'll throw you out to feed the zombies right now!"

Enough teasing. He couldn't push Chu Wanning too far. When he got anxious, Tianwen would quickly be summoned, so Mo Ran lay there obediently, staring outside, without saying a word.

As the ghost couple reached their climax, the male corpse let out a low growl, spasming and twitching on the female corpse. Suddenly a cloud of blue smoke burst out of them. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost opened her mouth and greedily inhaled the blue smoke until the last wisp of it was in her stomach. This time, he wiped the corners of her mouth gluttonously, and her eyes shone brightly.

It seems that these were the "benefits" that the married couple gave to it, which would increase its cultivation.

"Haha, hahaha—" When the Master of Ceremonies Ghost tasted the sweetness, it became even more radiant. When he spoke again, the misty and empty voice became clear, shouting and roaring. The sharp voice seemed to pierce through the long night. "Rise! Get up! All of you! Wait for the idiot and blame the girl! I kindly grant you intimacy! You offer me your faith! Get up! Get up! Everyone rise!"

Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat: It's over. . .

What is it going to do?!

The surrounding hundreds of coffins all began to tremble, verifying what Mo Ran was thinking. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost is going to summon all the corpses in the coffins to embrace so that it can absorb all their "benefits" at once!

Not caring about joking anymore, Mo Ran yanked at Chu Wanning: "Shizun!!!"

"Now what?!"

"Quick! Get out! Shi Mei is still trapped with the Chen's family daughter-in-law!" Mo Ran was going mad. "Let's go save him!"

Chu Wanning took a look outside. He didn't expect the Master of Ceremonies Ghost would have such a powerful hunger, not wanting to absorb from the pairs individually, but actually wanting to take a huge bite!

The trembling of the coffin next to them became more and more intense. It wasn't a stretch to think that all the pairs of the ghost marriages were inspired to start acting up in the coffins. This thought made Chu Wanning choke, his face growing even more ugly. At this moment, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, who was standing in the same place and laughing for a long time, suddenly felt something. She abruptly turned her head. A pair of black eyes without focus stared straight past the others and landed on the coffin of Mo Ran and Chu Wanning .

It could feel, despite its low intelligence, that the coffin does not have the erotic scent it was familiar with.

There was no faith.

There was no. . .

Living people!!!

Suddenly it arched up, screaming and scrambling. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost's robe flapped up, a pair of blood-red claws stabbing through the coffin wood, piercing the thick coffin, straight into the coffin body.

Its attack was too sudden and Mo Ran was too late to react. Moreover, the space in the coffin was very small, and it was impossible to go anywhere. Seeing its head through the five holes made by the nine-yin white bone claws, its body suddenly fell -- Chu Wan Ning had already swiftly guarded him in his arms, blocking himself in front, and the five pointed claws of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost suddenly pierced into Chu Wanning's shoulder!

Deep enough to reach a bone!

". . ."

Chu Wanning stifled a grunt but he endured it and didn't shout out. The other uninjured hand was still burning with the sound-dampening spell, and he placed it on Mo Ran's lips, blocking the sound that Mo Ran would've made.

The claws of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost dug into the flesh and blood of Chu Wanning.

It had a muddled brain and it could only judge what was dead or alive by sound. Chu Wanning actually managed not to say a word in this situation, the blood bubbling down his shoulder. Mo Ran was held down so he couldn't see how serious his injuries were, but he could clearly feel Chu Wanning trembling slightly. . .

Living people. . . or dead people? It was impossible for a living person to have not made a sound. The Master of Ceremonies couldn't tell for a moment. The sharp claws shifted around in the flesh of Chu Wanning's shoulder, viciously tearing and scratching.

Chu Wanning trembled with pain. He spasmed, a cold sweat drenching his clothes.

But he was still biting his lip, protecting the disciple in his arms, as if he had really become a corpse and became a dead person, pressing against the edge of the coffin, like cast iron on the wall of the coffin.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost seemed to confirm that anyone in the coffin wasn't alive anymore. It jerked its hand out, blood flying, and he could even hear the sticky sound of fingers being pulled out of the flesh, which made his hair stand upright.

Chu Waning's taut body felt like it had suddenly lost its strength. He let go of Mo Ran and gasped softly.

There was a strong smell of blood flowing in the coffin.

Mo Ran raised his head. Through the dim light leaking in through the hole, he could see Chu Wanning's drooping eyelashes, as well as the moist but stubborn eyes beneath them.

Those slightly provocative phoenix eyes, blurred with pain, but still more cruel and tenacious, a thin veil of mist filling them. . .

Mo Ran wanted to speak. Chu Wanning shook his head and he left the silencing spell on his lips. After a while, he took a slow breath and, with trembling fingertips, wrote on the back of Mo Ran's hand:

The sound-cancelling barrier was damaged, so they couldn't speak.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost outside tilted its head, as if he didn't understand why, even though there was clearly no living person inside the coffin, he didn't follow its instructions, nor could it feel any of offerings of faith.

Chu Wanning raised his head and glanced at it from the gap. His uninjured hand was encaged with golden light, and a willow vine flowing with flaming luster came out in response to the call.

He held Tianwen and narrowed his eyes.

The next moment, they broke out of the coffin!!!

The coffin exploded. Chu Wanning flew out like lightning. Tianwen was both accurate and quick and it strangled the neck of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost who let out an ear-piercing whine——

"Who are you! How dare you!"

Chu Wanning's answer was only one phrase: "Get lost!"

The large, auspicious red robe flipped out, like a cloud wave. He had been holding back just to land the right blow, so he immediately struck with one hand and Tianwen went for the neck! It decapitated the Master of Ceremonies Ghost!

A thick red mist along with a strange fragrance sprayed out from its broken neck. Chu Wanning quickly backed away, avoiding the fog, and sternly said: "Mo Ran! Thousand Killing Cuts!"

Mo Ran had already been waiting on standby. When he heard the order, he clutched the dark sword box in his sleeves, filled it with spiritual power, and blasted it towards the mutilated body who was reaching for his head.

The clay body split open, revealing a flowing red light inside the translucent body. Chu Wanning raised Tianwen again and tied up the immortal spirit body of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. A scream came from the body of the headless immortal: "The mortals are safe! The mortals are safe! — Rise! Get up! Kill them! Kill them——!!!"

The golden boy and girl, who had no facial features, suddenly both had a pair of blood-red eyes light up, and with countless squeals and screams, rushed towards Mo Ran and Chu Wanning.

The coffins lying on the ground also shattered and the dead corpses lying inside rose and surged toward the two of them.

Mo Ran's gaze weaved through the crowd, looking for Shi Mei. Chu Wanning barked: "What are you staring at those corpses for? That's not going to do anything!"

The two of them and the Master of Ceremonies Ghost had already flown on top of a coffin, the slow-moving corpses slowly gathering around them. Mo Ran raised his hands to light an exorcism talisman. He cast it in all directions, sending an explosion through the crowd. But there were too many ghosts, another wave of them not far behind.

Mo Ran was flabbergasted: "This many people died in Caidie Town? How many married couples are there?!!!"

Chu Wanning said angrily: "Look at the cultivation level of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. There are so many men and women who didn't die naturally! In all likelihood, it probably compels those who aren't married to commit suicide! Hit over here!"

Mo Ran waved another exorcism talismans toward the place Chu Wanning signaled, exploding a piece of white bone and dead flesh.

"Why isn't the Master of Ceremonies Ghost dead?"

"Ordinary weapons can't hurt it."

"What about Tianwen?"

Chu Wanning was furious: "Can't you see that it wants me to use Tianwen? This Master of Ceremonies Ghost moves extremely fast. If I let go of it, and don't get another grip on it, I'm afraid it will have already escaped!"

Those corpses were piled up more and more. Mo Ran, while fighting, was paying attention to whether Shi Mei was in the crowd, so as not to accidentally hurt him. A golden boy rushed over and violently bit his leg. He cursed inwardly, and he threw an exorcism talisman directly on the golden boy's face. He kicked it into the crowd of corpses and he exploded with a bang.

Chu Wanning said: "Have you seen Shi Mei and Madam Chen?"

After frantically searching, Mo Ran suddenly saw two swaying figures in the distance and said joyfully, "I see them!"

"Get over there and pull the two of them away! Get away from here!"

"Okay!" Mo Ran answered and then he was taken aback. "What are you going to do?"

Chu Wanning said angrily: "I can't raise my other arm, and I can't summon other weapons. I can only use Tianwen. As soon as I release the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, I'll destroy this entire place. If you don't want to die, get out as soon as possible!"

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[starfinss]

Wingman — Akaashi Keiji

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Summary: Bokuto heard you like Akaashi and decides to be your wingman. It goes about as well as it sounds.

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Rating: Fluff, humor (SFW)

Word Count: 1,779

“Do you like Akaashi?”

You choked on your rice at Bokuto’s sudden question, sending you into a violent coughing fit as you pounded on your chest in an attempt to clear your throat.

“I’m sorry, what?!” You said once you could speak, taking a large swallow of water from your bottle.

Bokuto looked blankly at you, owlishly, which was sort of his default expression. “I asked if you liked Akaashi.”

You sent a glance to Yukie, who seemed to be trying her best to look innocent.

“Who,” you said pointedly, and you watched Yukie’s facade break, just a smidge, “told you something like that?”

Bokuto inclined his head in said girl’s direction. “Her.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yukie, I told you not to tell anyone. And you told him of all people?”

A pause, then offense flashed across Bokuto’s face. “Hey!”

Yukie made a pained noise. “I’m sorry! It kind of just… slipped out. We were talking about how Akaashi never seems to date anyone, and I remembered what you told me and I just… I couldn’t stop talking!”

“No offense, Yukie, but Bokuto isn’t the best at keeping secrets.”

“Hey hey, I can keep secrets!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, hands flattened against your temples.

“Okay, prove it by keeping this one. I haven’t told Akaashi because I’ve never seen him ever show me any sign that he feels the same.”

Bokuto took a large bite of his sandwich. “Just tell ‘im anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sighed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting. And I dunno, he could reject me?”

Bokuto swallowed loudly, a splitting grin growing on his face.

“Well, what about this, (L/N). How about I be your wingman? Ey?”

Your mind flooded with all the ways that idea could go wrong, and the bad outweighed the good.

“No. No, Bokuto—“

“Come on, (L/N), let me help! I know Akaashi better than anyone, we’re best friends! I wanna do this for you, come on, let me!”

Bokuto was relentless on and off the court, and he was hard to argue with. He did know Akaashi the best, you’d give him that, even while you were friends with the quiet setter as well. Being team manager with Yukie really did have its perks.

And Akaashi really was too pretty for his own good.

You could benefit from Bokuto’s help, even if something would undoubtedly go terribly wrong in the process.

“Fine,” you relented, resulting in loud cheers, the sounds drawing the attention of the people eating lunch around you.

You exchanged a weary look with Yukie.

“I hate you,” you said, and she smiled.

“I know.”

Your eyes flicked back to Bokuto, who was bouncing in his seat.

“I have a plan.”

You put another bite of rice in your mouth. If this was going to be as insane as you thought it was going to be, you’d need a full stomach.

“Tell me.”

————————

Bokuto’s plan was horrible.

The first one he gave you involved you just walking up and kissing Akaashi, but your use of some choice language in response to that made Bokuto change tactics.

“Go into a closet—“

“No.”

“I could lock—“

“Bo!”

He groaned. “Let me talk!”

“Then stop giving me plans that could result in me being utterly humiliated!”

“Fine! Then try this. Just get him alone after practice and ask him to walk you home.”

You frowned. “We do that every day anyway. We live two houses apart.”

“Toss him some sets!”

Yukie made a frustrated noise. “I’m going to lock you in the club room.”

You gave her a fearful look. “Me?”

“No. Bokuto. But maybe you if we can’t come up with something.”

You closed your now empty lunch box. “So you’re in on this too, now?”

She grinned. “I’ve always been in on this.”

Anger simmered in the pit of your stomach. “Did you tell him on purpose?”

“What?” Yukie said, then paled. “No. That really was an accident. All I’m saying is I support you.”

“Well,” you sighed, “that’s something, I guess.”

“Lock you in the club room!” Bokuto cried, and the expression on his face coupled with the triumphant tone in his voice made it seem very much like he’d struck gold.

You paused. “What?”

“I was joking, Bo,” said Yukie.

“No, but it could work!”

It could. But you were pretty sure Akaashi had a key, so it would be kind of useless to put him in a situation he could easily get out of. And, to further this, you also had a key. Bokuto pouted when you relayed this to him.

“Come on, (L/N), let me be your wingman!”

You rolled your eyes. “Isn’t that what I’m doing? All you’re giving me is stuff like ‘lock yourself in a closet.’”

“It could work!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, and you stood up, stretching your arms above your head.

“I’ll see you guys at practice,” you said, “text me if you get any new ideas.”

————————

Practice was somewhat of a nightmare. Of course, it went as well as it usually did, the gym full of Bokuto’s victorious shouts and Akaashi and the other club member’s sarcastic quips. But that wasn’t the problem. Every time something needed to be fetched or the water needed to be refilled, either Yukie or Bokuto, usually with matching grins, suggested you go with Akaashi. Akaashi, of course, shut this down fairly quickly since he had no need to assist you with such menial tasks.

But Bokuto didn’t stop there, no. It was too much to hope a hurricane would stop in its path.

Because during a break, Akaashi approached you.

“Is there any reason why Bokuto is constantly asking me to compliment you?”  He said as he dried his face with a towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows, dread sinking into the pit of your stomach. “He’s doing what?!”

“Asking me to-“

“No, I heard you. I just can’t believe he’s doing that.”

Akaashi blinked, oblivious to the situation. “Is there a problem, (L/N)?”

You sighed. “Yeah. No, I don’t know. This is a mess.”

From what Akaashi told you, Bokuto had started showering you with random compliments, then asked Akaashi if he agreed.

“I just want to know why he’s doing that. Do you think he has a crush on you?”

You shook your head. “No. This is… It’s something else. I don’t really want to talk about it, sorry Akaashi.”

He looked worried all of a sudden. “Is there something wrong?”

Your eyes went wide. “No! I’m fine, really. I just— I can’t talk about it.”

“Why?” Bokuto said, strolling over, and you deflated, “do you not trust him?”

“Bo,” you warned, speaking between gritted teeth, “not. Now.”

“Isn’t this what winging is?”

Akaashi looked deeply confused. “Winging? What is that supposed to mean? Did you make up a word for spiking?”

Bokuto seemed affronted. “No! I’m her… Her man wing—“

“It’s called wingman, Bo,” you muttered.

He was going to give you away.

“Tell him, (L/N), he thinks you’re pretty, smart-“

Akaashi blinked. “You asked me what I thought about that, Bokuto.”

Bokuto faked shock. “So you don’t really think those things?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

Bokuto gave a squawk you could only assume was a cry of victory. “See? See, (L/N) Akaashi thinks you’re pretty! You gotta tell him, tell him now!”

You looked at Bokuto with pure murder in your eyes, and he seemed to falter.

“Tell me what?!”

“Akaashi!” You cried, “talk to me outside, would you?”

You looked sharply at Bokuto.

You buried your head in your hands once you were outside. “ I might as well just come out and say it, because we both know Bokuto isn’t about to quit. That massive meathead is trying to be my wingman because he found out I like you today.”

You sent Yukie a murderous look as she passed the open door, raising your voice a bit as you spoke. “Because someone told him.”

She looked sheepish.

You closed the door, only breaking eye contact with her when you couldn’t keep in anymore due to the new barrier between you.

“Well, that’s fine,” Akaashi said, “I like you, too.”

You worried your lip between your teeth. “I understand if— Wait what?”

Akaashi looked at you blankly. “I like you too, (L/N).”

You were at a loss for words. “You never gave me any signs that you liked me too.”

Akaashi leaned against the door. “I walk you home every night.”

You frowned. “We’re literally neighbors.”

“That’s beside the point. Why do you think I bring you breakfast to eat while we walk to school?”

You blushed. “I thought you were being nice.”

“No,” Akaashi stepped forward, letting his hands fall to your shoulders, “no, (L/N). I like you. You’re an incredible person, and I thought I was making myself clear with my advances.”

Well, you decided, you were a dumbass.

“Wanna… Go get something to eat sometime?” You asked, voice quiet, and Akaashi nodded.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you, and you swear you forgot how to breathe, that you forgot your own name. You sighed softly, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. Akaashi was an intense young man, and kissing him, even if it was simple and innocent, was just as intense. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist with a heartbreaking tenderness, nose brushing yours as his lips pressed and ghosted against your own.

It was cold outside, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were so soft and gentle.

The door opened abruptly and you heard a shout that could only have belonged to Bokuto. You felt Akaashi smile against your mouth before he pulled back.

“I am the best wingman!” He cried, “Hey, hey, hey!”

You laughed. It felt good to laugh, especially when Akaashi was still holding you so close.

“You are, Bo,” you confirmed, resulting in more cheering.

“Akaashi got a girlfriend!” He shouted as he ran inside, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that what you want to be?” Akaashi asked, and you nodded.

“Yes.” You were unable to hide your grin.

“Then it’s official.” Akaashi kissed your nose, then stepped back.

“I will hold your hand when we walk home.”

You blushed at his bluntness. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Nice pun!” You heard Yukie shout, and you groaned.

“I hate both of you!”

You didn’t. But the smile that ghosted Akaashi’s lips as you said the words was worth it.

So was the burning kiss he gave you after practice, and the feeling of his hand in yours as you walked home.

Maybe having Bokuto’s help, as disastrous as it had been, wasn’t so bad after all.

[worstloki]

Loki was sitting on a bed, staring with with almost lifeless eyes at the bed sheets he held fisted tight in his hands. Any second now...

As if summoned by Loki's thoughts, a figure popped into existence, all glowing blue skin and blue eyes dark as he walked over to Loki's still form.

Tess said nothing even as he sat down and wrapped his arms around Loki who didn't resist the comforting gesture, turning into Space's side.

"How are you feeling?" Tess asked finally once Loki was settled comfortably.

Loki tried to figure that out. He had been for over a year or so now. He wasn't sure entirely how much time had passed. If he was honest, he'd say he felt nothing. Empty and numb.

He didn't say that, only shrugged. It wasn't like he could lie. If he did, Tess would find out the truth from Soul who only needed to touch Loki's skin to find out what he was feeling and had done so before even when Loki had insisted on her to stop.

'For your own safety,' was all she said before violating his thoughts and feelings.

"Are you unhappy?" Tess asked with a slight frown, interrupting Loki's thoughts. "Is something wrong?"

'Yes,' Loki thought as he squeezed his eyes shut tight and shook his head.

Tess wasn't convinced. He never was. "If there is something you need or want, you can always ask us. We'll do whatever you need to be happy. You know we will."

Loki did know. That's what frightened him. He was scared to speak a word around them all anymore for the exact reason that they'd do anything neccessary for his own wellbeing.

They had killed Thanos after everything the Mad Titan had put Loki through to force him to attack New York to get Tess from those Midgardian's.

Power had been the one to bring back Thanos' decapitated head to Loki with the assurances that the Titan had suffered greatly before he died. Loki had both felt relieved and sick as he stared at Thanos' mutilated head, barely recognizable that if he hadn't been told it was Thanos he would never have guessed so.

Loki had been foolish to think it was a one time thing. He told himself they were all simply protective of him was all.

And Loki hadn't been lying. They all were protective of him. Very much so.

It was when Loki had let slip Odin's neglect and the hurt Loki had felt for never feeling good enough that he found at how much power and damage his words could cause if he wasn't careful. Loki had nearly been sick when Reality came to him, tossing a single blue eyeball in his hand as he explained what they'd done to the old king before ripping the one good eyeball from his eye socket and shortly after, killing him.

Loki learned to shut his mouth around them all, afraid of what they'd do to anyone else Loki spoke of that had hurt him. Yes, he felt some satisfaction that they were no longer able to hurt him but he couldn't enjoy it when he knew what they had gone through before they died. He never asked for anyone to die.

But then Loki started getting hurt. When he fought in battle against enemies or simply because he hadn't been paying enough attention to what he was doing.

They didn't like it at all. They all hated seeing Loki hurt and after Time mentioning seeing a time where Loki had died, they got even more paranoid. So they took him away from it all to somewhere they promised he'd be completely safe.

Loki had been furious at first. They couldn't just take him away from his life! But they had and they only gave Loki sad smiles when he screamed at them about betrayal.

Loki had tried to hurt himself, just to show they couldn't always protect him but found it impossible. He threw his fists at the wall but there was in invisible barrier between him and the wall that made it impossible to connect his fist. He tried scratching at his arms but the same thing happened. He tried to 'accidentally' trip but he never hit the floor, simply floating until he lightly touched the floor.

He couldn't injure himself.

So he screamed and he raged and he demanded to be let out of the room they'd stuck him in but nothing. They visited all the time but they never let him out again.

His anger had turned to a deep depression where he'd sit on his bed or on the floor and stare at the door across the room that never opened. A cruel joke to him, having a door that he couldn't open.

His magic was practically useless wherever he was. He'd tried to use it, even against his lovers who never got angry when something was thrown at them but seemed even more sad each time it happened. He couldn't use his magic to leave.

He was trapped.

Eventually, Loki accepted that he couldn't escape. Not by himself at least. He calmed down at any rate which had pleased the stones though Loki felt deadened inside.

The depression had gotten even worse after they killed his brother. Loki hadn't realized what he'd said until it was too late. It had been a simple mention of Thor always getting the attention and being Thor's shadow.

Loki hadn't been gifted with any body part of Thor's but the stones spoke about it to him, what they'd done before they killed him. Loki had been in horror and shock, unable to process that Thor was dead. He had been sick nearly over a month after that, walking up screaming from nightmares and crying whenever the stones tried to make him feel better. How could he ever feel better?

He'd gotten his brother killed.

After that, Loki had gone numb.

Tess visited the most. Loki had no idea where they went when they weren't with him but he found himself lonely when they weren't there. He normally wasn't left alone for long though. Despite everything, he still loved them. That's what he hated most about his situation. He shouldn't love them anymore but he did.

He did.

"Can I..." Loki swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. "Can I come out now? I'll...I'll be careful, I promise—"

Tess was already shaking his head, tightening his hold on Loki. "It's too dangerous. You could be hurt."

"Please, I'll be careful. I swear," Loki pleaded, becoming desperate every day he was trapped. He knew asking would do no good. Tess would never relent but he still got his hopes up even if it was for them to be crushed again.

"Hush, you're speaking nonsense. You're safe here," Tess shushed him.

Loki felt frustrated tears gather in his eyes. "But—"

"I said no," Tess said with a frown. "I let you have anything you want but you know the rules. You must stay here, where you're safe."

Loki went to speak again before another figure appeared right on the bed in front of them.

Loki shook his head, glancing away from Mind who looked at Tess. "Is everything okay? Why is he crying?"

Tess frowned deeply. "He wants to go outside again. It'll pass."

"Oh," Mind said before shaking her head as she drew closer. "That's too dangerous."

Loki wanted to scream but he only shook in Tess' hold as Mind reached for him, cupping his face between her hands.

"P-please, let me go," Loki whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks. "Please, d-don't—"

Mind hushed him as she kissed him softly, Loki making a weak noise of protest but could do nothing with Tess' arms crossed over his own.

Loki didn't see how Mind's hand pulsed a soft golden yellow, a trail of her power seemingly sinking into Loki's skin but he felt it as a sense of calmness and love for the people protecting him sink into his mind, making him go lax and pliant in Tess' arms.

"We love you," Tess murmured into his ear as Mind drew away and Loki took a shuddering breath.

"I...I love you all too," Loki said finally. Mind and Tess smiled at one another as Loki sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing fully into Tess' embrace.

He was safe. He had all of them to take care of him. He couldn't be hurt anymore.

Why would he ever want to go back outside?

🖤💚💛

I'm sorry if there's any spelling mistakes. I didn't check it over since I wrote it just now but here's some dark Infinoki for you 🖤

anon i love and will kill for you

(Part 2)

[spxllcxstxr]

Date Night • The Marauders

(Gif not mine)

Request: Maybe like a poly!marauders x (she/her) reader where they just spend a day together :) like you can write smut If you’d like, but yea maybe they can go out to eat id like to see a dynamic in a poly relationship w them. Thank you!! Love your writing <3 — anon

Summary: Date nights are rare, but tonight, you go out for ice cream with your partners

Warnings: Food and eating!! The entire fic is about eating, so please stay safe! If you have a peanut allergy no you don’t. Also, if you’re lactose intolerant like me, uhhhh pretend there’s a potion for that I guess, kinda implied first Wizarding war, smallest hint of steaminess

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: Remus=Ross, James=Chandler, Sirius=Joey, right? This took me like weeks to finish...but overall I kinda like it. Let me know what you think, and love you all ❤️

****

The four of you very rarely had free time.

Between missions and meetings, you and your partners almost never had time off, and even when you did, one of you would still be busy. One of you would still be undercover or stuck debriefing the latest mission with Mad-Eye for hours.

So it’s weird to find yourself situated on the couch, Sirius’ head resting on your lap and Remus on the other end, stuck with his feet. James shuffles around in the kitchen behind you, stuck with dish duty after almost setting your flat on fire.

Sirius snuggles deeper into your thigh, evidently still exhausted from the previous day’s mission he was tasked with.

The flat is mostly quiet, the only sounds coming from Remus turning the pages of his novel and the ceramic plates clashing together as they get put away. The sun slowly sets outside, basking your living room in glowing orange in light.

You run your fingers through the mess of dark curls splayed out on your lap, always lustrous and soft to the touch. He hums deeply in approval.

A sharp clap from behind jolts you out of your peaceful thoughts.

You crane your neck to watch as James throws on his denim jacket.

“I believe that we,” He starts, eyeing the three of you. “deserve a date night.”

Instantly, a smile grows across your face. The last time the four of you had a proper date night, it was 1979 and Queen had just released a new song, which meant that Sirius needed to celebrate with all of you at the pub getting absolutely pissed.

Since you all joined the Order, all your free time has been sucked down the drain.

So that’s why the mere suggestion of the normally elusive date night makes you feel all giddy inside. You would’ve gotten up from your comfortable position to throw your coat on if it wasn’t for Sirius practically securing you to the cushions.

“But James...” He groans.

“Oh c’mon, Pads, we haven’t been on a proper date since—“

“Last year.” Remus interjects, shutting his book before placing it onto the coffee table. “But then again, you were too drunk for it to actually be considered a date.”

“Don’t blame me, blame Freddie and his Merlin given voice.” Sirius muses, still laying on your thigh. His fingers dance around your kneecap.

Remus slowly eases himself off the couch, joining James by the front door.

“Fine.” You hear James shrug. “We’ll just leave you here to suffer while Remus, (Y/n), and I go out to Florean’s.”

This seems to grab his attention, because he perks up just enough for you to slide out of his grasp.

You end up at Remus’s side, clinging to his grey jumper as you excitedly pull on your shoes.

“Ice cream?” Sirius asks, pushing his hair behind his ears. “Without me?”

“It doesn’t have to be without you, Sirius.” You retort, sandwiched between James and Remus. “If you get your arse over here, we won’t have to leave you.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Sirius huffs, hands raised in mock surrender, dragging himself over to the front door.

He waves his wand, boots zipping out of the closet and slipping onto his feet, his dark leather jacket covering his white shirt on its own.

“What, are simple tasks too hard for you now?” Remus teases, lightly bumping his shoulder into Sirius’.

“We’ve got magic for a reason, Moons.” The shorter of the two rolls his eyes. “Might as well use it.”

Remus opens his mouth to retort but James swiftly interrupts their bickering.

“I swear to Godric Gryffindor himself, (Y/n) and I will leave both you gits here.”

There’s grumbling from the two of them, but it becomes garbled once James throws an arm around you and Apparates you to Diagon Alley.

Your brain feels like it’s spinning in your skull and your stomach tugs familiarly at your naval. Sure you’ve Apparated many many times before, but it’s simply not fun no matter what.

As per usual, Diagon Alley is loud. Children and drunkards laugh, spells and fireworks whizz passed your ears, people in heels trot across the cobblestone path.

It’s places like Diagon Alley that remind you why you love magic so much.

James’ arm is still heavy on your shoulders as you watch people in cloaks and tall hats rush by you.

There’s a startling crack behind you and you and James turn around to see your other partners. Sirius might have a few new purple bruises littered across his collar bones and Remus might have a smug look plastered across his face, but no one says anything. Remus throws the two of you a silent wink as Sirius hangs off of him.

“Gonna hold my hand, Moony?” James questions, his arm outstretched.

Remus eagerly takes it, fingers interlocking.

So the four of you are connected as you stroll down the street. Your face is buried into James’ denim jacket, the faint smell of grass stains and broom oil an already welcomed scent. In the middle, James and Remus have their shoulders rubbing together as they walk, James’ thumb most likely tracing figure eights between his knuckles like he always does. Lastly, it seems like Sirius had changed his position enough to stick a hand in Remus’ back pocket.

The sun continues to dip lower below the horizon, resulting in candles and lanterns being lit in every dark corner. Children are ushered inside homes and adults start to flock towards the pubs.

With the looming threat of dark and dangerous wizards, people aren’t taking their chances, safety in numbers and safety indoors being popular within the village.

Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor is lit up in a rainbow of colors as always, and the sweet scent of ice cream drifts through the air. People sit in crowds outside the shop, enjoying their treats on the sidewalk or some even spread out on the street.

“So what’re you going for today, Jamie?” You ask as your little group enters the shop.

A little bell sounds from above you, barely heard over the boisterous laughter and rowdy conversations that surround you.

Unlike you, Sirius, and Remus, James doesn’t have a signature flavor. He had to have a different kind every visit. So while Remus had already ordered his strawberries and cream in a waffle cone and Sirius is eyeing his peanut butter ice cream, James is still perusing his options like a little kid.

Your own ice cream starts to melt a bit while you’re waiting.

James squints his eyes at the names, despite his glasses already resting on the bridge of his nose.

“You haven’t done toffee apple in a bit, Prongs.” Sirius points, his finger making contact with the cool glass barrier.

“You’re right.” James hums. “Thanks.” He presses a quick kiss to Sirius’ stubbled cheek before ordering his ice cream.

There’s a small open table across the way, lit up by a few lanterns, which the four of you claim.

There’s a very slight breeze that makes you cuddle up to Remus’ soft jumper.

Desperate to talk about something other than the current state of affairs, James gets caught up talking the Wimbourne Wasps and their new Beater, Ludovic Bagman.

You watch Sirius, tongue poking ever so slightly out of the corner of his mouth, try to sneak a scoop of James’ ice cream while he’s distracted.

Attempting to hide your amusement, you bring a hand up to cover your mouth, feigning interest in the Quidditch talk.

You watch the spoon make an indent and it’s halfway to Sirius’ mouth before—

“Oi!”

The silver spoon freezes abruptly, and grey eyes widen significantly.

“Is that why you suggested toffee apple? So you could nick some of my bloody ice cream?” James gasps dramatically, mouth agape in shock.

“Where’re your manners, James?” Sirius retorts, licking his spoon. “Sharing is caring.”

His hazel eyes narrow. “I don’t know, Black, that looked more like thievery to me.”

“Well let’s take it to our very own Wizengamot, then.” Sirius loudly gestures to you and Remus.

“Well I’m sure that for a wee bit of ice cream, (Y/n) and I, as key witnesses to the whole event, can clear the air.” Remus smirks, biting into his cone.

Sirius swiftly pushes the rest of his ice cream across the table, not even trying to be discrete about his offering. You and Remus start to dig in.

“Bribery!” James shouts, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. “This trial is a load of bullshit!”

“Sorry James, can’t hear you over how good this is.” Remus remarks with his mouth full.

You lick your spoon, watching the theatrics.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” James straightens his glasses and runs a hand through his hair in playful frustration.

“Aw, Jamie...you want some of mine?” You pout, offering some of your own frozen dessert.

“At least someone at this table loves me.” James grumbles, sticking a spoon into your bowl.

Sirius sticks his tongue out.

“Hey, I never said Sirius was cleared of all charges.” Remus raises a scarred brow.

“What?” Sirius snaps. “But I bribed you!”

You snicker at his balled up fists.

“So you admit to the bribery, you might as well admit to the thievery while you’re at it.” He finishes the bowl, licking the last of it from his spoon.

“Oh how the tables have turned.” James smugly points out.

Sirius childishly pouts, opting to pick at his black painted fingernails.

“We should have date nights more often.” James chuckles, clinking your spoons together.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

[a-simple-imagine]

An Afterthought pt.2

Synopsis: Maeve shows up on your doorstep one night all sad and what not then leaves. Now it’s your turn to try and make amends. 

Pairing: Queen Maeve x fem!reader

Words: 4.1+

A/N - Did someone call for an angsty part 2 to a story i put out almost a year ago?? I got a fair few requests for this so here it is. I hope you enjoy it sorry if you don’t. request are open btw.

Warning - Swearing, violence and a very brief mention of zombies. 

Part 1 

Thoughts about Maeve are more frequent as of late. What was once just a passing thought as you spotted her face on magazine covers or painted on walls now became bothersome. What exactly had brought her to your doorstep that night? It had just been so unexpected. It left you so painfully curious for answers. There had to be more to the story. Not to mention, you also found yourself missing here once again: more so than before. A deep ache that came from an old forgotten wound that had begun to heal through time. A week had passed before you decided to do something stupid. It's amazing what you can find out online these days.

A bright sun sat high in the sky which left the air dry and you feeling warm. The hustle and bustle of city life was always your least favourite thing about living here and it was even worse today. Crowds of people stand behind a barrier that was maned by a few security guards. Did these people not having anything better to do than gawk at supes all day? You had basically scrubbed the internet to find out where she would be today which lead to a Twitter thread between someone called @MAEVESWIFE and @maelander who were talking about a vought commercial being shot outside the tower today. Queen Maeve and Homelander would both be there. But at least you personally knew here unlike these guys. It was kind of cool how many people idolised them. Working your way through the crowd, you earned some very dirty looks for trying to get to the front. Homelander and Maeve were in fact stood before a crew of people and a few cameras, smiling brightly and saying something you couldn't quite hear. Maeve seemingly spots you among the crowd so you wave a little. It was hard to figure out if she was happy or furious but she signals for a break and charged towards you. The crowd erupts with excitement as the Queen herself graces them with her presence and Homelander trails behind her. The woman offers nothing but polite smiles to the adoring fans as she takes your hand leading you along the length of the barrier and over to the threshold. It was safe to say that just about everyone who was still standing behind the security guards was very pissed off that you were getting special treatment.

"What are you doing here?" She growls through gritted teeth and a plastered on smile that disappears once you're out of view from prying eyes.

"I wanted to see you after-"

"Who's this?" You both turn to him and then back to each other.

"Oh my god, it's Homelander," You express, plastering on your brightest smile. Tall, Muscular with an award-winning smile. Bright blue eyes and silky blonde hair. The one and only Homelander walks up beside the two of you. It was almost humbling to be standing before the leader of the seven. He was so powerful- they both were and you were nothing short of ordinary.

"This is a closed set,"

Maeve didn't seem to know what to say exactly so you take it upon yourself to introduce yourself to him as her friend. Although you weren't even sure you could call yourself that at this point. It was a complicated relationship and considering you had broken up, it was the most appropriate label.

"Oh, She has never mentioned you,"

You're about to answer when Maeve takes your arm abruptly and pulls you away from the man. "Will you give us a second,"

A little confused, you give him a little wave goodbye paired with an awkward little smile. His eyes seem to trail after you but you think nothing of it.

"He's taller than expected," You muse aloud as attention falls back to your ex-girlfriend. Arms crossed over her chest and with a less than favourable expression on her face, it's pretty clear she isn't happy. Now she knows what it's like to have an ex show up unannounced.

"What do you want?" Maeve whisper yells at you. "I'm a little busy."

"I know just..." A quick glance to Homelander who had returned to his adoring fans. He had superhearing so you were pretty sure he could still hear you anyway. "after the other night I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"If everything was fine you wouldn't show up on my doorstep." A casual shrug of your shoulders. Maeve may be able to fake a smile for the cameras but it was always pretty obvious to you when she was lying to you.

"I said I'm fine. You need to leave."

"Maeve," A soft sigh leaves your lips and you take her hand in yours; brushing your thumb over the back of her hand. "You can talk to me."

"Leave," She growls, pulling her hand away. "Please."

"We need to talk about the other night- you at least owe me that."

With a deep breath, Maeve turns on her heel and begins to walk away. "I'm busy,"

For a moment you just watched her walk away then jogged after her. "Then we can talk later- you could come by tonight? I'll even make dinner."

"Fine. Now leave."

This time you let her walk away and continue making her little advertisement. You wouldn't admit to her that you stuck around a little longer. Even got a chance to talk to Homelander a little before heading home. Chill dude, if not a little intimidating. Maybe it had been a stupid idea to invite your ex-girlfriend over for dinner but you wanted to get to the bottom of all this. You were actually a little nervous for her to arrive. Cooking had never been your specialty but you wanted everything to be perfect. A quick stop on the way home to buy groceries, you worked on dinner since getting home. pacing around as you waited for her to arrive. And waited. And waited. and waited. Lucky for the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach, Maeve didn't show up. It probably should have been expected. She had never been the most reliable person unless she was saving the world apparently.

A loud bang has you stirring awake before the sun. It was probably just the neighbours; a loud groan as you bury your face into the covers to go back to sleep. But the banging doesn't stop and you soon realise it's your door. Rolling over, you check your phone to see it's four in the morning. What could anyone want at this time in the morning? Dragging yourself from under the protection of the duvet, you cautiously head to the door. Peaking through the peephole to see... Queen Maeve. "Just give me a chance."

A chance? You weren't sure she deserved any more of those but you still unlock the door and pull it open. Glancing over her as she offers up a smile. Does she ever wear anything other than her armour? "Chances comes after nine am." You protest putting what little strength you had into trying to close the door. It was effortless on her end to keep it open.

"You invited me over, remember?"

"I invited you over for dinner, Maeve. No sane person has dinner at four in the morning."

"I forgot I had a team-up with Black Noir- Just let me in."

With a defeated sigh, you step aside and retire to the couch. Slumped down against the cushions, your head falls back as your eyes flutter closed. The click of your door infers she follows you inside.

"Tired?"

"Mhmm." You hum, nodding nonchalantly.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee?" Maeve suggests and again, you nod. She was familiar with the apartment so she knew where everything was but it still felt a little odd to have her wandering around with such familiarity. Who just shows up this early for a serious talk? A silence comes between the two of you. She may have attempted to keep the conversation going in between asking if you wanted coffee and delivering it to you but you didn't notice. Sitting up as a hand is gently placed against your shoulder, she hands over a large mug.

Blowing gently over the top before you take a tentative sip; warmth radiated from the liquid as it slips down your throat. Maeve joins you, perching on the edge of the couch as if she was ready to leave again. Maybe she was now regretting her decision to visit. You were kind of regretting opening the door instead of just going back to sleep instead. Since you were up anyway, might as well make the most of it.

"I can- I can make you breakfast or something if you want? Since you... missed dinner."

"Oh great, yeah," Maeve responds.

"What would you like? Cereal, toast, pancakes maybe?"

"Pancakes would be great." Of course, they would. She had to pick the option that required the most effort. You didn't mind making her something as much as you just didn't want to get up.

"Alright just... give me a moment to wake up."

"You won't wake up if you keep trying to go back to sleep," A snarky remark that earned her a small smile, your middle finger shoots up in response. The two of you just sit in silence together and every few seconds or so you'd take a sip of the coffee she made. It was all feeling a little awkward. Placing the mug down on the coffee table, you rise and get started on making breakfast. Maeve moves from the couch to the kitchen table, fiddling with the little salt and pepper shakers that always resided there. You don't know what to say and clearly, neither does she.

"So... how are things?" You question as you whisk the mixture together.

"I'm fine, I guess" She shrugs a little. You can't help but sigh a little. "What?"

"Nothing," you insist, grabbing the frying pan and place it over a medium heat; Adding a blob of butter and some oil. "If you don't want to talk Maeve then why did you bother to come over?"

Placing down the salt and pepper shaker with a clink, her attention falls to you. "because you asked."

"Yeah, I asked to talk about the other night. You were clearly messed up."

"Why is it so hard to believe I was just looking to fuck?"  It was really hard to believe but rather that you just knew it wasn't true. You were pretty sure Maeve had her choice of partners should she require one. So why come to your door?

"Because I'm not stupid" You pour the mixture into the pan with a satisfying sizzle. "I know you well enough to know that's bull."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought."

Flipping the pancake over, you're taken back by her comment. Did you know Maeve as well as you thought? You had never expected her to just up and leave you one day and she did? She lived an entire superhero life that you knew nothing about. Maeve had always been pretty private when it came to that side of herself. You make another couple of pancakes before serving her up a plate.

"You aren't eating?"

"Too early," you return, taking up the seat opposite her. You watch as her fork pierce the surface of the pancake, cutting off a small piece and pop it into her mouth.

"Taste okay?"

"They're good," Mouth hidden behind the palm of her hand as she mumbled through her food. It lowered a moment later.  "I came over because my job is hard. I was the in the area, I was having a tough day."

"A tough day?" Getting any sort of details out of her was like pulling teeth. Why was she so reluctant to speak to you? If she didn't want to have this conversation she should have just no turned up like she hadn't for dinner. Would have saved the effort and you could be sleeping right now.

"Yeah,"

"That's that then." Hands slap against the table as you rise from the seat. No point in sticking around if this wasn't going anywhere.  "Case closed. When you're finished just leave the plate in the sink, I'm going back to bed."

"Seriously?"

"You woke me up at four am just to tell me you had a bad day. Shit, I have plenty of bad days, I don't show up at Vought tower." You start walking back towards your bedroom although your slow, hesitant even like you were just waiting for an excuse to turn back.

"I really was having a bad day," she repeats. "Really bad. And all I could think about was seeing you." And getting drunk, guess she just conveniently forgot about that part. There were many moments although brief where you were having a hard time and you thought about going to see Maeve. She used to be such a big part of your life it was almost an instinct to return to her for comfort. You never actually did obviously. As pathetic as her explanation was, it brought you back to the dining table. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends."

"What's the worst thing you could ever imagine?"

"Huh?" What kind of question was that?

"Just answer it,"

Your mouth opens but no answer comes to mind at all. You were more curious about the reason behind it. It's too early for philosophical debates and it had nothing to do with anything you had been talking about. "uh, I don't know... post-apocalyptic zombie invasion, maybe?"

"Can you take this seriously?"

"I am," you huff. It was a stupid question anyway. "Zombies-"

"really freak you out, I remember." Strange thing to remember. It couldn't have come up in conversation often. It was a little funny the small things people remembered about each other. "I meant something that could actually happen though. I've seen some pretty fucked up shit."

"Like what?" She turns to you like she's about to say something but quickly stops herself. Continuing the eat the breakfast you so lovingly prepared. With the way she had been playing with her food, you suspected she no longer wanted it despite having hardly eaten any.

"Being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes I wish I could just live a normal life or whatever"

"Nothing glamorous about a normal life," You stifle a yawn. "I think I'd rather be adored by millions and save the day but we aren't all lucky enough to have powers."

"Lucky," A bitter laugh. "I wouldn't call myself lucky."

"You're being so weird." You comment, a quirked brow.

"I would rather be adored by one person who truly means it."

"Guess that's all anyone wants. Supe or not."

Her eyes meet yours for a few seconds before dropping. Did she mean you? There was no doubt you had feelings for the woman and very much still did. But you can't imagine it's anything compared to the weirdos who worship the ground she walks on. They obviously didn't really know her and vice versa but still. There was an element of pureness that came with being so dedicated to someone. "You never answered my question."

"I don't know Maeve it's too early..." You grumble. "Do you want me to say something like war or famine or something?"

"Not unless it's the truth."

Everyone wished for world peace. Everyone wanted to feed the hungry. House the homeless. Basic answers that any decent person would come up with. It lacked originality. It lacked feeling. Everyone would probably have a more personal reason."What's yours?"

"Something happening to you... because of me."

"Really? That's the worst thing you can think of?" Didn't she just say she had seen a lot of messed up stuff and yet her concern resided with you? What did she think would happen? And didn't a broken heart technically count as something happening because of her? Shifting in your seat, you lean down onto the table before you. Thinking of your own answer. The worst thing you could imagine?

"I answered," she shrugs but doesn't elaborate. "Now you go."

"I guess... finding out you died," Should you admit something like that? "You're the strongest person I know. I still... care for you. I'm not sure I would handle it well- Is that a better answer?"

"It's sufficient."

"Sufficient? I really don't know what you want from me Maeve? I don't know what the worst thing is, okay? I'm too tired for this shit."

She places her cutlery carefully on the plate, pushing out her seat. "I should go."

"Maeve?"

"I'll go, you can go back to bed. I don't even know why I came here."

"No. Stay. I wanna talk."

" Let's just forget this ever happened." Brushing herself off, Maeve heads back towards the door. This whole back and forth was growing awfully tiresome. Every time you thought you scratched the surface of her mask, there was a new layer underneath more impenetrable than the last. Maybe you should just let her go? It'd be easier. It was probably for the best too but when she had shown up at your door the other night, you realised just how much you still wanted this. Still wanted her. She may have left you one day without any explanation but seeing her for the first time in a long time had brushed all rational thought aside. You were in love with her even now. Tears brimmed your eyes whether it was due to tiredness or a flush of emotions, it was unclear.

"If you walk out that door I'm done," You declare as confidently as you can. Hoping your sadness was hidden amongst the dim light that filled the entire room. "Don't bother showing up on my doorstep when you have a shitty day." Maeve pauses with her hand on the doorknob but only for a second before twisting the handle and pulling open the door. "Maeve...  just tell me what's going on with you, please."

"Everything I have done to you was to protect you." Final words as she leaves. The door clicking behind her. To protect you? From what? What was she even talking about anymore. Anger bubbles deep inside you and you find yourself charging after her. Bursting out into the chilly hallway, you catch her in the corner of your eye. She was leaning against the wall just outside your apartment basking in the flicker of the corridor light.

"Protect me from what?" You wonder quietly, taking a wary step closer. "I don't understand."

"...Homelander." Voice but a whisper mumbled into the darkness. Homelander? The Homelander? Why would you need protection from him, you didn't even know him? Plus he was like a beloved superhero and the last time you checked, superheroes were the good guys.

"You're scared of... the world's greatest superhero?"

"Never meet your heroes."

"Aren't you two like friends? You even dated him. Why are you scared of him?" Another step closer, you lay your hand tenderly on her shoulder. An attempt to support her even if you didn't understand the situation. "He didn't seem so bad when I met him yesterday. I actually spoke with him after."

"You spoke after? Why?" Maeve snarled swiftly making you back away a little only for her hand to snap around your wrist. Cold fingertips apply a deep pressure to your skin as if it's taking everything in her not to press harder. You swallow hard, confused by her anger. "I told you to leave"

"It- it's not a big deal. He just wanted to know more about us," Even you can hear the panic in your voice as you struggle to get the words out. It was a little embarrassing, to say the least, but you'd never really experienced this side of Maeve before. Her anger had never really been directed towards you.

"And you told him?"

"Yeah. He took it pretty well actually, I was surprised. "

"How can you be so fucking stupid?" Her grasp begins to stiffen around your wrist. Maeve was strong, inhumanly so. If she wanted to she could break every one of your bones like it was nothing. That never used to bother you so much but in this instance, your own weakness had never been more apparent.

"Maeve," You struggle against her grip, a pleading look as you meet the brown of her eyes. "...You're scaring me,"

Those magic words seemed to break the spell that had come over her and Maeve released you in an instant. Regret washing off her face in record time. "I'm sorry, okay- I'm sorry," You take a step back; the other hand rubbing at the wrist she just let go off. "I didn't mean to- I wouldn't hurt you."

"I... let's just go back inside." It's hard to pretend that didn't just happen. That Maeve didn't almost crush your wrist for doing the wrong thing. But it wasn't her fault, right? She just isn't herself at the moment. Her emotions got the best of her when she found out you told Homelander about your relationship. Warily, you hold out your hand in offering. It's a little shakey but you just hope she doesn't notice as she takes your hand and you lead the way back into your apartment. Shutting the door behind the two of you, you return to the couch. Sat on either ends so you're as far away as possible without being on the floor, things are feeling a little awkward now. You can't help but focus on your wrist, the feeling of her hand still lingers in a ghostly embrace. "I'm sorry I told Homelander about us."

"You didn't know..."Maeve lets out a heavy sigh as she turns to face you. "Homelander is a monster. He's hurt people just for looking at me funny- "

"Oh." A little surprising to hear. You had always kind of suspected Homelander was a bit of an arsehole but not that he was inherently a bad person. He saves people after all. You've seen him save people. He was basically on the news every other day or in the newspaper or trending on Twitter. There was no evidence to supporting Maeve's theory but you also had no reason not to trust her. She had no reason to lie to you.

"He's done atrocious things. He's made me do atrocious things. I was trying to protect you from him- and from myself,"

"...Why are you telling me this now?" Couldn't she have just told you all this from the beginning? It still didn't explain why she had just shown up the other day either? Clearly, something had happened between her and Homelander at least that's what you gathered from the context.

"To keep you safe," Maeve returns. "So you'll stop hating me."

"I could never hate you," An offer of a faint smile that may or may not betray you. When she had first left you, you were so filled with hatred but it was so hard to stay angry at her. You didn't hate her anymore but you couldn't say you were simply over it now. "It's not your fault."

"It is though- I put you in this situation. I let those people die,"

"What are you talking about? What people?" Every time Maeve opened her mouth you grew slightly more confused and you didn't know how to help. Watching her with an inquisitive eye, you notice as a tear or two begins to glide down her rose-tinted cheeks. It was enough to bring your walls crashing down. Whatever she was talking about must be really affecting her for her to start crying. A hand reaches out only to pull back as you remember what happened last time. You take a deep breath, sitting up a little straighter.

"I should have stood up to him but I was scared."

"Scared of Homelander," You repeat. Still trying to process the information.

"I don't want to be a monster like him." Against your better judgement, this time you shuffle closer and entice her into a soothing hug. Holding onto her tightly like you never wanted to let go because frankly, you didn't. Maeve was warm, she was safe. You wanted to offer her that same sense of comfort even if it was impossible. You wanted to drown in her affection.

"You're not a monster, Maeve" The other woman melts into your caring touch, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You were so used to confident, super-strong Maeve that it was a little weird to have her be so vulnerable. Especially sober. But even your words weren't enough to trick your brain into quelling that twinge of fear that now resides in you. "Whatever's going on, I'm gonna help you get through it. I promise."

[americxn]

Little Witch | James March x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ As part of the coven, Cordelia sends you to the Hotel Cortez to carry out a favour for James Patrick March, who has promised to pay the coven handsomely in return for your help. However, in using your gifts at the hotel, you reveal more than intended, igniting James’ interest in you.  words: 4000k + (not proofread) 

                                                  .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

    “Hello?” You pivoted slowly, neck craned to take in the glorious room you found yourself stood in. Calling out again, you spotted the front desk at the back of the room and headed towards it, the red velvet carpet soft beneath your feet.     “Is anyone there?” You braced your hands on the cool wood on the desk, leaning forwards in a futile attempt to peer behind the door against the far wall of the reception that had been left open a crack.      Huffing, you slung your designer bag from off your shoulder and dumped it on the floor. Why the hell was nobody here? Surely Cordelia didn’t forget to notify the staff to your arrival.     The creaking of the door behind the desk as it swung open startled you and you looked up to see a short, stout looking woman with big glasses that framed her round face in an adorable manner.        “Hi, do you work here?” You questioned tentatively.       “Yes, I’m Iris. Sorry, have you been waiting for long?” She reached under the desk, pulling out a large leather bound book and flipping it open.        “No, it’s fine,” you paused, noting the book she began to flick through.        “I, erm, I don’t have a reservation or anything.” The sound of the little women flicking through the pages of her book stopped abruptly, the large room falling utterly quiet. You cleared your throat, the wailing and screaming filling the deepest part of your brain threatening to spill into your consciousness; Cordelia had warned you about this. That this hotel, this glorious hotel, was certainly not as pleasant as it seemed. And you had felt it the moment you stepped out of the Uber that had deposited you on the front steps of the building, could hear the suffering in the back of your head, people pleading and crying. An awful feeling settling over you, a warning and a promise. Stay away or die.      You steeled your nerve and forced the growing butterflies in your stomach to settle.      I know what I’m doing.     “I’m y/n, I’ve come from New Orleans. Were you not notified of my arrival?”     The woman started, a guilty red tinged blooming on her cheeks.      “Oh, of course, of course. Sorry about this,” she paused to gesture around the empty room. “Busy week.” An awkward silence fell as she seemed to notice the utter stillness radiating from the entire building, and cleared her throat, coming round the your side of the desk and beckoning you.     “Follow me.” You did, stooping briefly to retrieve your bag and sling it over one shoulder. The woman led you up a shallow set of steps set into the far wall of the room, and into an open hallway. A few turns later and you found yourself at a cozy looking bar, the room opening beyond into a generous dining room, with multiple sets of tables and chairs occupying the space.    “Liz!” Iris called, pulling your attention to her and the woman who walked out from behind the bar.    “This is y/n. I assume March will come and collect her soon, but who knows with that man.” The last part was muttered on a tired sounding breath. “Keep her company, will you.”     “Of course.” Liz, as Iris had called her, hurried to the other side of the bar and you took a seat at a barstool, thanking the receptionist as she walked away.       “Can I get you a drink?” Liz asked you, leaning both her elbows on the bar and gazing at you with curiosity.        Your mouth opened to respond, but you paused briefly as you remembered your unfamiliar surroundings and the undead man you were going to meet and closed you mouth, shaking your head.      “I’m alright, thank you though.” A small small spread on Liz’s face.      “You don’t need to be worried, you know, although I don’t blame you.” She pushed off the bar as she spoke, taking up a cloth and setting herself before a pile of glasses, picking one up and beginning to polish it. “That Supreme of yours would bring this building down with half a thought if anything were to happen to you, I’m sure.” You huffed a small laugh in response.     “It might take a few of us to pull off something like that but yes,” you paused, unsure of how much this person knew and how much you should let on. “But I can’t lie, this building feels miserable.” You explained with a small shiver as the hairs on your neck raised in agreement. Liz chuckled. “You’re not the first to say that.”      You smiled slightly, a smile that turned into a grimace as the incessant wailing in your head got a fraction louder. “They agree too.” You muttered quietly. Liz cocked her head, a stack on freshly polished glasses beginning to pile up beside her.       “Especially...” you paused, pulling out a tendril of your power from the bottomless well inside you and allowing it to follow the call of the loudest voice that had filled your ears since you first set foot in the building. “Mary.” The mention of her name was like a catalyst, breaking through any sort of barrier between you and the suffering spirits of the hotel and a series of horrendous images flooding your mind. “Oh god,” you grimaced at the blood and gore that was projected in your head, a snapshot from some time ago, on the eleventh floor in a room directly above you. Your nose crinkled in distaste as you blinked the images away. “Poor girl.”       “What a helpful little tool.” Liz mused, setting the half-polished glass and cloth on the surface of the bar and looking at you intently. “Who else can you hear?”      You paused again to listen, but a scuffing sound on the carpet from the hall outside the bar caught your attention and you turned in your seat, a mere second before a man stepped into view.       “Ah, yes!” The dark-haired man exclaimed as he clasped his hands behind his back. You couldn’t help the one eyebrow that you involuntarily raised at the sudden appearance of this man, as you took in his odd clothes, the dark pencil moustache and the accent that you just couldn’t place. He wore a scarlet handkerchief around his neck, a stark contrast to the white shirt he wore beneath a dark waistcoat. “Mary.” He hummed. “Such a pretty thing, but my god was she loud.” He barked a jovial laugh as he stepped further into the room. You took an unsure glance at Liz, who met you gaze briefly before going back to her glasses.      “Are you...?” You trailed off, trying to get a reading on the man but coming up short.      “James Patrick March.” He spoke proudly, his chin raised slightly as if he were addressing a room full of important people.      You tore your gaze from him, slipping off the stool and donning your bag once more. “Right,” you nodded, “I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You said as you walked up to him, confused as to why his presence filled the room with blessed silence, like a blockade to the screaming walls and voices that had swirled around your head just moments before. But you meant it. He seemed to draw you in, his little smile somewhat endearing as he held out an arm for you to take, which you did, and found, yet again, that he was impenetrable, that you couldn’t hear or see anything when you touched him.     Cordelia had warned you of him, had apologised for choosing to send you to the hotel and gave you a brief rundown of his history, of the terrible things he had done in this hotel, his hotel. But now, as he led you into an ornate elevator arm to arm, taking your bag from your shoulder and putting it on his own in a gentlemanly gesture, happily making small talk with you as the elevator door closed, the only vibes you were getting from him was that of a harmless teddy bear.      You had to suppress a smile as you responded to his question of: “I trust you got here easily? How long did it take from New Orleans?” And then getting caught in the flow of his own rambling: “I wish I could visit there. I only went once before getting stuck in this building. Exquisite food. Oh and even better music.”     You found it incredibly endearing.      The elevator doors opened and you allowed James to lead to into the hallway, peering up at him as he continued to talk.     “Ah, here we are.” He exclaimed, pushing open the door labelled ‘55′ and allowing you to go in before you. The room was decorated in an odd sort of outdated way which somehow managed to still be cozy and welcoming; red carpet, dark oak furniture and strangely shaped light fittings. There was a large table in the centre of the room, a bed pushed against the wall beyond that and a small sitting area to the right. Looking to the left, you spied a door, open a crack to reveal a clean-looking bathroom beyond.      James pulled you out a chair and gestured for you to sit before hurrying round the table and situating himself opposite you.      “I must say,” he began, surveying you as you pulled your bag onto your lap and began taking out the items necessary for the location spell that you were to perform for James. He continued, leaning forward to brace his elbows on the wood of the table, “it has been a while since I have had a run-in with a witch. And an even longer time since I’ve had relations with your coven.”     Pulling out two large candles, you met his gaze and smiled softly. “Well, I’m happy to help.” You said mildly, just wanting to perform this spell for him and leave. This hotel just didn’t sit right with you and you were hesitant to spend more time than necessary within its walls. The room fell into a somewhat awkward silence as you pulled out the rest of the contents of your bag: a large map of Los Angeles and a thin, cruel looking blade. You cleared your throat quietly as you spread the map upon the table, James retracting his elbows to give you space, watching your every move intently.      You placed a candle at each side of the map, lighting them with half a thought and a lazy flick of your wrist. The impressed expression that fell over James’ face caused a barely suppressed soft smile to spread over your lips, a strange of sense of satisfaction unfurling in your chest.      Palming the small knife, you met his interested gaze. “Did you bring a connection with you?” You had assumed that Cordelia had explained the spell to James, that in order for you to find what he had lost, you would need some sort of connection with it. If it were an object, you would need a small part of the item or to perform the spell at the last place it was seen in order to retrieve it, but, as Cordelia had explained to you, as it was a person that had gone missing, you would need some of their DNA, some hair, blood, even a finger nail clipping, just anything that you could use to tether yourself to the missing person.      “Oh, yes of course. Miss Evers!” He called, looking at the door behind where you sat. You pivoted as the door opened, beholding the maid that bustled in, a small child clinging onto her hand. Your eyes narrowed.      “Bring him over here. Yes that’s it.” He welcomed the oddly-dressed child into his arms. The boy couldn’t have been older than six, his thick head of platinum blonde hair glinting in the candle light. James ushered the maid away before looking to you expectantly.     “What am I to do with him?” You ventured, the boy’s presence making you feel uncomfortable. No child should be involved in witchcraft, especially in such a spell that you were to perform.      But then again, looking at the boy, you couldn’t tell if he was entirely human. A deeply unsettling aura rippled off of the child, whose head was turned shyly to rest in James’ chest.      “This is the closest thing I could salvage from her. They are connected in a way that I am not required to explain,” he offered a tight smile. “So please,” he jerked his head at the blade in your hand, “continue.”      You frowned, but did as you were told, dragging the knife across your palm, hard enough to draw blood, a practice that you were so used to doing, the sting of the blade cutting into you barely registered. Clenching your hand into a tight fist, you held your hand out before you above where the Hotel Cortez was located on the map and allowed three drops of your blood to splash onto the paper. Your stomach twisted at what you had to next, meeting James’ eyes and holding out your hand. “I need to do the same with him.” You muttered.      James, to your surprise, took the boys hand and held it out to you happily, forcing his palm open and holding it steady as you raised the blade and drew a deep line across his little hand. Even more surprisingly, the boy didn’t so much as whine as you put his hand into a tiny fist and held it above the map, allowing for a few drops of his blood to fall on top of your own.      “Thank you.” You said to the boy gently, releasing his hand. James lifted him off his lap, patting his head fondly and called for Miss Evers again who returned and took the boy out of the room.      “Go ahead, witchling.” He said, a curious glint in his eye.      “Alright.” You breathed, surveying the map before you before letting your eyes fall shut. “This shouldn’t take too long. Remind me of her name?”      “Her name is Elizabeth. She took off from the hotel eight days ago. I need her back here.”      Nodding, you let this information and the quietness of the room settle over you, holding your hands outstretched over the map. Scrying was a pain in the ass, but it was what you were best at. You reminded yourself of this as you began the incantation, readying yourself for the feeling of coming out of your being, of losing control of yourself.      With each word you spoke, you began to feel the sensation of being pulled out of your body until your conscious being was hovering above the table, watching yourself utter the incantation with your hands held above the map, James’ eyes glued to your face in wonder. Below your hands, the little puddle of blood began to inch itself across the paper of the map and you concentrated as your vision began to dim, chanting louder as the candles flared.      God this hotel.      It was an effort to focus yourself as the memories of suffering clouded your thoughts and an ache began to spread from one temple to the other. Glancing at yourself, you cringed as you face began to pinch, a small drop of blood forming and dripping from your nose. Your chanting became frenzied, hands beginning to shake where you held them above the table.     The blood continued to trail across the map and you grimaced at the worsening pounding in your head, watching as the muscles in your jaw clenched.      “Y/n?” You started, having forgot that James was present and began to panic as he reached out a hand tentatively. If you touched you, you would be pulled back into yourself and the spell would be broken.      “No.” The word formed soundlessly on your lips, blood dripping from your other nostril. The blood on the map began to slow its journey, beginning to pool itself back together. Just a few more moments and- “Y/n.”       James reached over and brought his hand onto your shoulder, and you were forced back into yourself, an irritated protest forming on your lips.      But as his hand settled on your shoulder, a flurry of images emptied itself into your head with such force that you jerked.      The images were of James, his face the same as it was now but in various outfits. James stood before a half-built building, an oddly shaped hat perched on his head, James laughing as he popped open a bottle of champagne before a crowd of cheering people. And there he was again, stood in a dimly lit room with red carpets and walls, a mutilated body sprawled on a table before him. In this picture he sighed, blood splattering his face and a series of sharp, wicked blades having been discarded at his feet. You were forced to endure a series of similar images, James’ grip on your arm tightly as you tried to expel the pictures in your head, but to no avail.     And then you saw yourself from James’ vantage point as he stepped into the bar you had been in hardly thirty minutes ago, Liz polishing her glasses before where you sat, your bag abandoned at your feet. This image was quickly replaced by another, of you and James sat at this very table, but you were both dressed in finery, you at one end and him at the other, large plates of food set before you as you sipped on your wine, James laughing at a joke you had made. Then you saw the two of you running through the hallways of the hotel, giggling like children and shouting as he chased after you as you both barrelled through the hallways before James caught you and pushed you gently against the wall, his lips finding yours as you both laughed breathlessly.      The scene changed quickly, and you were looking through your own eyes as James smiled down at you with teary eyes, your white lace-covered hand clutched in his as you made your vows to love him, a priest stood a few feet away overseeing the ceremony in the reception of the hotel.     And then a glorious feeling working itself into you as the next image appeared in your head: of you sprawled out on the same bed that was behind James now, mewling in pleasure as James’ head worked between your legs. Your fingers were gripped tightly in his hair, a white gown and light grey suit scattered in pieces around the bed he worshipped you upon.     Only when the vision snapped to you cupping your swollen belly lovingly, did you finally find the strength to locate your physical self and slip back into it, pulling away from James. As soon as his hand fell from your arm, the visions disappeared abruptly and you blinked as you stared at him across the table, his eyes creased in concern.       Letting out a shaky breath, you reached up and wiped at your face, your fingers coming away bloody and James stood hurrying over to you. You felt dizzy and could barely see straight as his cold fingers hooked under you chin and you were forced to look right at him as he tutted quietly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and gently cleaning up the blood that had expelled itself from both nostrils and from the corner of one eye.      Had he seen or felt anything? Had he meant to put those images in your head?     You breathing faltered as he met your stare, the images that you had seen appearing again in the back of your mind, of his head between your spread legs as your back arched off the bed.     You shook this images from your head and forced yourself into action. You reached up and pulled his hand from your face.      “It’s okay.” You said, the roiling dizziness that you had felt giving way to bone-deep exhaustion. “It happens. This is a hard spell.” You reassured him.      He surveyed you carefully from a few feet away, the newfound tiredness of the location spell evident in the droop of your shoulders, the dimness in your eyes.     You gestured to the map. “Where the blood had formed is where Elizabeth is. I don’t know LA that well. If I were you I would go there quickly, she might move somewhere else.” Your voice was hoarse.      “Yes.” He drawled, “thank you, dearest.” You smiled weakly up at him, pulling your candles to you and blowing them out before using your magic to encourage the melted wax to harden and stuffing them back in your bag. With a lazy wave of your hand, the blood on your blade was gone, the well of your magic pleading you to let it rest. You pushed yourself to your feet silently.      “Whoa.” James darted forwards, catching you under the elbows as your knees gave out when you tired to stand.       “Oh dear.” He muttered in your ear as your bag fell from your fingers and your head fell back into his chest. You groaned softly.       Fuck. I pushed too hard. You thought as your eyes grew too heavy, your head drooping forwards as your body forced you to sleep, to recuperate. Yes, you had definitely pushed too far.       A cold hand settled on your forehead and forced your head back, James’ muttered, “it’s alright, darling. Thank you for helping me,” being the last thing you heard before your body’s demand for sleep pulled you under.     

                                                   .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

    Your phone buzzing on the pillow beside your head made you stir. You peeled your tongue from the roof of your mouth, reaching out with a groan and picking up your phone to answer it, bringing it to your ear and mumbling a sleepy “hello”.      Cordelia’s voice filled your ear. “Y/n? Are you okay? The hotel rang me and told me you would be back later than expected.” Slight panic sharpened her tone, making you force yourself to sit up. Before you, you saw the table where you had performed the location spell, the map still spread upon it. You remembered the images that James had projected into you with a shiver. A quick glance at the time displayed on your phone notified you that you had only been sleeping for a few hours but had missed your flight.          “Erm yeh, I’m fine. I’ll order an Uber and just get the next flight home. I’m fine, Cordelia. I promise.” You softened you tone, knowing how much the Supreme feared losing any of her girls.       “Okay, message me when you get in your Uber, okay? I love you.”       You smiled. “Love you too.” Hurrying, feeling uncomfortable that you had been left to sleep in this godforsaken building alone, you used the bathroom quickly and then gathered your things.       You had made it to the door of the room when you noticed that the low table beside the door had a plate laid out on it, a sandwich and a large glass of water set beside a note. It was written in pretty cursive and read: 

“Y/n. I hope you recover quickly. Thank you for your help, little witch. If you find yourself in the area again, please do visit us. JPM.” 

    You smiled softly, placing the note back down before draining the glass of water and grabbing the sandwich, munching on it as you made your way through the labyrinth of corridors, stomach sighing contentedly as you quickly finished the sandwich off, stepping into the elevator that would take you down to the reception.  

                                                  .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

     It had been a few weeks since you had made your visit to the Hotel Cortez. Now, you sat at the kitchen table, slowly making your way through your ‘theory of magic’ homework and laughing at a joke Kyle made from across the table when Cordelia strode in.

     You looked to her as she said your name. “I have another quest for you,” she began, her mouth quirking up at the corners. “You’re requested at the Hotel Cortez.” You stiffened almost imperceptibly, stomach flipping in either dread or excitement, you couldn’t tell. 

    “James March requests your company for diner.” She smirked and Kyle let out a laugh as your cheeks reddened. You reached into your pencil case and chucked a pen at him. 

    “When?” You asked Cordelia who was barely suppressing her laughter.

    “Wednesday. And I have already booked you a flight.” Your mouth fell open as she turned on her heel and began to leave. “I suggest you start looking for something spectacular to wear.” 

    You fell back into your chair as she left, defeated. Kyle was giggling.

    Today was Monday. You had two days to find something to wear. You stood suddenly, a combination of terror and excitement knotting in your chest and stalked over to friend. Grabbing him by the shoulder you pulled him up.

    “I have two days to find something to wear.” His expression quickly turned from amusement to distaste as he noted the determined gleam in your eyes. “And you’re going to help me.” It was your turn to laugh at his groan as you dragged him from the kitchen and into your room, forcing him to rate each outfit that you pulled from your wardrobe.

[nugnthopkns]

i’ll wait and i’ll listen

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it

recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap

a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!

There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.

He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it. 

Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world. 

Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years. 

Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier. 

Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps. 

“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”

Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”

Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong. 

☼☼☼☼

You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence. 

“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open. 

“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”

She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”

You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance. 

Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought. 

“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet. 

You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.” 

The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother. 

Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”

He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”

Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up. 

Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard. 

Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”

Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away. 

In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”

Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”

In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food. 

Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words. 

There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake. 

“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind. 

They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories. 

You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”

“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”

It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen. 

☼☼☼☼

“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”

You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”

A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”

You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.

“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness. 

You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”

The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[robininthelabyrinth]

I’d love anything from Baxia’s POV. Maybe her spirit stays to protect Huaisang after Mingjue’s death?

ao3

Untamed verse

Humans did not remember the moment they were forged, which was, in Baxia’s opinion, probably the source of most of their troubles.

Baxia remembered her own forging: earth and wood as the raw ingredients, the warmth of the fire to shape her, the hiss of water as she was quenched, the sudden coalescence of her spirit bursting into life. 

It was not dissimilar to the moment Nie Mingjue’s golden core was formed, a moment she recalled quite fondly: they had broken through together, all at once, in an unexpected attack in the middle of an otherwise boring and supervised night-hunt. The night had been dark, pouring rain and pealing thunder, and the blood of the beast they had slain was wet on her blade; his blood had boiled with their frenzied victory, the heat of it shaping him as thoroughly as the flame had her, the rain quenching him even as their cultivation ran wild together, her spirit entwined with his soul.

And yet it was still different – before her forging, she was nothing; after, she was Baxia. But Nie Mingjue still remembered who he’d been before, and perhaps that was where the softness came from. The softness that made him hurt inside when people spoke ill of him, when he saw the man who killed his father, when he stayed his hand against evil because of politics and etiquette, all foolish human concerns…

He’d be better off without that softness.

Baxia herself had none. She was steel, straight and true; she was a saber, vicious and rigid and unyielding. She did not pity the weak or forgive fair-weather friends – she destroyed evil and protected without reservation that which was precious to her.

A very short list.

Mostly just Nie Huaisang, really, stubby little pocketknife that he was, and by association there was Aituan, who was more of a fat metal stick than a proper saber, but who was a great deal of fun to bully. There would be no making something of them – you couldn’t change someone’s fundamental forging without melting them down and starting again, and the pain necessary for something like that was not a fate she’d wish on her precious ones even if she did wish it on just about everyone else – and even Nie Mingjue knew it, but pride was pride and he kept on trying.

But for all that they were useless, they were blood – iron of her iron, made by her maker, and the same pulsing red of her rage lay there hidden deep beneath their frills and fecklessness.

So they were precious to her.

But most precious of all was Nie Mingjue, of course, her master and beloved. His blood had been spilled on the metal that formed her, once at the moment of his birth and once again at the moment of hers; it tied them together, made her a reflection of him and him a reflection of her.

Some sabers didn’t like being mastered like that, but she was proud of it, proud of Nie Mingjue himself. His spirit was as close as she had ever seen a human come to being a saber spirit, steel right down to the core of him, principles held as stiffly as her blade even when the results of those principles turned to cut against him. Full of rage, just as she was, but tempered, just like her – disciplined, fearsome, just.

is he (Nie Mingjue) one (singular unit) of us (swordspirit)? Sandu asked her one day, his voice still sleepy from the effort of starting to wake up. did he (Nie Mingjue) steal (evil) a birth (forging)?

of course not (negative), she said back, haughty and proud. he (Nie Mingjue) would never (negative, past-now-future). not (negative) a thief (evil). and what do you (Sandu) mean, one (singular unit) of us (saberspirit)? you (Sandu) are barely (negative) one (singular unit).

we (saberspirit-swordspirit) are closer (similar) to each other than humans (living), Sandu grumbled.

even my (Baxia) human (Nie Mingjue)?

Sandu conceded the point, muttering gloomily about it, then asked, do you (Baxia) think it is possible (positive) to fix (sharpen) my (Sandu) human (Jiang Cheng) to be more (similar) like us (swordspirit)?

too soft (living), Baxia declared, knowing why Sandu was asking. reforge him (Jiang Cheng).

nobody (negative) needs to be reforged, Suibian said, butting in with a chirp where no-one wanted them as always. humans (living) are just different from us spirits, that’s all, and there’s nothing (negative) wrong with that.

is that (reason) why you (Suibian) keep trying (swing) to talk like them (living)? Baxia snapped. cultivate faster (guai) instead.

Suibian huffed, and Sandu sighed. why do you (Baxia) dislike (negative) them (Suibian)?

doomed (negative) forging, Baxia said succinctly, cutting to the point as their kind always did. bad (negative) fate.

superstition (living), Suibian scoffed. i (Suibian) defy fate!

Baxia wasn’t impressed by such grandiose declarations. then reforge your (Suibian) master (Wei Ying).

never (negative, past-now-future)!

(It wasn’t just superstition. Suibian chirped and Sandu slurred, despite their masters being about equal in natural talent – that was wrong, when they were supposed to be brothers, masters and swords both, but Baxia had scolded them both on the subject in the past to no avail, telling them if the humans weren’t going to straighten themselves out their swords had to do it for them. They didn’t listen to her, so certain that everything was good and that nothing would change, and ignoring the saber-breaking cracks quietly growing underneath.)

Still, the conversation got her thinking. 

Nie Mingjue really was remarkably saber-like, after all, and he had his own doom writ above his head – the Nie family rage, which they’d worsened by tying their souls so closely to their inexorable sabers, and she could already hear Aituan whining leave my (Aituan) human (Nie Huaisang) out of this mess (Nie sect) before he (Nie Huaisang) gets angry – and she didn’t want to give her beloved up to the inexorable demands of fate so easily.

humans (living) are not like us (saberspirit), one of her elders reminded her. they (living) do not (negative) last (future) the way (similar) we (saberspirit) do.

Baxia knew that.

She knew, too, what her own fate would be, when the end came: the elders had been left in a honored tomb to burn with rage until the world’s end or their master’s reincarnation, whichever came first, and in time – sooner rather than later, given her master’s extraordinary strength – Baxia would do the same.

(Aituan occasionally entertained thoughts of being buried alongside his master in a nice quiet grave, rather than in a tomb of his own. Baxia really didn’t know what to do with him.)

But just because she knew her fate didn’t mean she liked it, and perhaps it was the swords’ influence or just her own strength that encouraged her, but she didn’t want to accept things she didn’t like. She wanted to fight fate the way Suibian claimed they would, except unlike Suibian that was all talk, a sword that forgot dings as soon as they were smoothed out, Baxia didn’t make decisions like that lightly.

are you (Baxia) sure (stab) about this (decision)? Aituan asked her, anxious. fate is hard to cut (slice) or even to bend.

Baxia was sure.

She was sure throughout the war, which increased her cultivation and her master’s dramatically – she wished they had had a real fight with Wen Ruohan, rather than a fight with her master shackled and weakened after three days of being beaten and starved, because Wen Ruohan liked to be powerful but didn’t like taking chances – and throughout which her master fiercely kept his principles intact. He paid attention to the innocent, he cared for his soldiers, he maintained order and imposed justice no matter who committed the act, he used all the tactics that were reasonable without ever descending into anything dirty or evil.

She was even more sure later, when the war was over and her master’s so-called friends conspired to steal his good name for their own benefit and began bullying him into agreed to it.

“It’s not such an unreasonable request,” her master said – too soft, as always, when it came to precious things, too soft in dealing with outsiders that did little for him beyond showing him a smile or two, too soft when it ought to just be her and him and Nie Huaisang and, yes, even that plonk Aituan against them all. “Everyone has already started calling us the Venerated Triad; politically, it would be difficult and embarrassing for all of us for me to decline. And as the eldest brother, I would have the right and even the duty to try to help Meng Yao remember how to behave –”

you (Nie Mingjue) cannot (negative) change what (forging) does not wish (positive) to be changed (Meng Yao), she snarled, and wished he could understand her better.

There was a language barrier between the living and the unliving. It was entirely separate from the barrier between living and dead, or different types of being – even plants and animals were more conversant with humans than she, with all their naturally obtained understanding of things like breathing or eating or changing, and ghosts and corpses, although dead, were even easier for humans to interpret. 

Not so her. 

No, the living were so amorphous, the cells within them being reforged every day – melted, quenched, made – and within seven years an average human would be so repaired that the only consistent part of them was their souls and spirits, the reservoirs of memory; whereas she would remain as she was, valiant and true to herself, for centuries without end.

And so Nie Mingjue could understand a ghost well enough to liberate its spirit, he could anticipate an animal’s movements based on its desires, he could even engage in the cut and thrust of sect business with snake-like men who spoke so sweetly they might as well have lotuses on their tongues, but he could only mostly understand what she wanted to convey, getting the feelings and most of the meaning but garbling key parts of the rest. Even that level of understanding was fairly radical for a human, another reason she had in favor of her plan: Nie Mingjue was too straightforward to be a proper human, resulting in him being confused by the complex hypocrisies of most humans just as she was, as all swords and sabers were, and he hated the messy sticky politics of it all.

it (living) isn’t that hard (tough to stab), Aituan mumbled. my (Aituan) human (Nie Huaisang) does it (living) all the time (past-now-future).

maybe if your (Aituan) human (Nie Huaisang) helped him (Nie Mingjue) more, it (living) wouldn’t be so hard (tough to slice).

but we (Aituan, Nie Huaisang) don’t want to (negative)!

then you (Aituan, Nie Huaisang) should stop (negative) whining (scraping rock)!

In the end Nie Mingjue agreed to the sworn brotherhood over Baxia’s objections – it didn’t help that Nie Huaisang was in favor of it, which made Baxia scold Aituan for hours – and naturally it went as badly as could be expected.

he (Lan Xichen) means (motivation) well (positive), Shuoyue said, her voice gentle as a rippling brook. It had once been pleasant to hear. you (Baxia) are too stern (unbending).

we (saberspirits) are unbending by nature (forging), Baxia snapped at her. you (Shuoyue) should (positive) know better (positive)! you (Shuoyue) should have objected (negative)!

i (Shuoyue) do not (negative) have to agree (similar) with you (Baxia), Shuoyue said, a little more peevishly than normal. my (Shuoyue) master (Lan Xichen) likes him (Meng Yao) and your (Baxia) master (Nie Mingjue) both. why should he (Lan Xichen) have to yield (bend) one (Meng Yao) for the other (Nie Mingjue)?

because he (Meng Yao) is (forged) cruel (evil), Baxia said flatly. and even if he (Lan Xichen) does not (negative) see it (evil), you (Shuoyue) can – but (negative) are choosing not (negative) to do so (evil).

i (Shuoyue) do not (negative) accept your (Baxia) judgment (stab), Shuoyue said and she was angry, defensive. She knew she was wrong – she would have denied Baxia’s accusation if she could – but she was choosing her master and his wants over righteousness. my (Shuoyue) master (Lan Xichen) believes that he (Meng Yao) can change (reforge) if he (Meng Yao) is given trust –  

impossible (negative). he (Meng Yao) has not (negative) agreed (reforging).

i (Shuoyue) disagree (negative). regardless (negative) of what you (Baxia) think, i (Shuoyue) will make my (Shuoyue) own judgment (slice)!

Incensed beyond all tolerance, Baxia cursed her with the worst words her kind knew, may your edge (Shuoyue) cut the life of your master (Lan Xichen), and after that they did not speak again.

Nie Mingjue felt her distress and sought to soothe her, with night-hunts and sharpening and everything she liked best, and even Nie Huaisang came to her with buffing cloths and calming oil to coax her back into something more neutral than rage – blinding disappointed rage of the sort Baxia would think was more appropriate against a human than one of her own kind – and for a while they didn’t go to visit the Cloud Recesses at all. 

In the end, mostly in recognition of Nie Mingjue’s confused but unstinting support, no matter how much he missed his friend, she settled for speaking only with Liebing, who wasn’t a sword but who Baxia had noticed went pointedly off-key a few times when Meng Yao was around.

he (Meng Yao) wants too much (evil) from my (Liebing) master (Lan Xichen), she said, distressed. She was younger than the weapons were, having been mastered at a later age – less developed, less attuned to detecting and destroying evil, but she had a good spirit, enthusiastic and true. but (negative) master (Lan Xichen) does not (negative) listen to me (Liebing) – he (Lan Xichen) is more attuned (positive) to swordsmanship (Shuoyue) and she (Shuoyue) does not (negative) agree.

her (Shuoyue) decision (slice) will cost (cut) him (Lan Xichen), Baxia said. Ignoring evil was unworthy of a swordspirit, and very close to evil itself; she herself would not permit such a weakness no matter how much Nie Mingjue pleaded. Indeed, it was her own enmity that kept him at odds and distant from Meng Yao, who he would have rather liked to forgive. the only question (uncertainty) is if it (decision) will cost (cut) the rest of us (general) first.

It did, of course.

Shuoyue refused to yield, Baxia had never known how, and in the end –

In the end, Baxia could only detect the poison that affected her and her master both and seek to expel it, but had no means to identify from where the poison came. Perhaps Liebing would have been able to tell her, if Meng Yao hadn’t hidden his crimes so deeply; or perhaps Aituan, who realized far too late what was the discordant note in Baxia’s whistling song was, could have done more…

By the time her master and her realized that they had been so thoroughly betrayed – that they had anticipated small evils when in fact the evil was thorough and pervasive – it was too late.

But regrets were for those who had not prepared, and Baxia – Baxia had prepared. She might have thought she’d have more time, but once the decision had been made, all those years ago, she had not hesitated to start acting at once. 

She had never been more happy for her straightforward and blunt nature that did not drag and did not hesitate.

The qi deviation came suddenly, Meng Yao unmasking himself at the last for the specific purpose of driving Nie Mingjue past the edge – and he succeeded. It should have worked; it should have killed him.

But Baxia had been stretching herself thin for years now, trading pieces of herself for her master, knowing just as he knew that one day his fragile human mind and body would turn against him, that he would die choking on his own blood – the flame inside of him too hot to tolerate – and that saber-clean spirit she so loved would be lost to the cycle of reincarnation, with Baxia herself left to endlessly wait for him.

She didn’t want to wait.

What happened? he asked blearily, only a few shichen later, and she couldn’t help the surge of joy in her heart when she heard how easily he slipped into awareness, into speech – he really must have been a saber in a past life. Why can’t I see anything? Baxia – is that you?

yes (positive), it is me (Baxia), she said proudly. i (Baxia) saved you (Nie Mingjue).

Thank you, Nie Mingjue said automatically, not even bothering to ask how she’d done it or what it had cost – such a good master, to trust her so. Wait. I can hear you. You’re talking!

i (Baxia) have always (positive, past-now-future) talked, she said. it was you (Nie Mingjue) who could not (negative) hear.

After a moment – she suspected he was processing, or attempting to – she added, you (Nie Mingjue) are a saberspirit now (now-future).

…I’m a what?!

Baxia guided him back to the world so that he could see. His body – what had become of it – was currently chained down on a table in what must be a secret room; it was recognizable as being somewhere in Jinlin Tower, but neither of them had ever seen this room before. The tell-tale marks of Yin Metal poisoning, the signs of turning into a corpse puppet, stretched up his neck and his eyes were blank and full of resentment, his body thrashing and mouth snarling. 

Jin Guangyao was standing beside him and looking down with a frown, asking, “Why is it not working? It worked with the others.”

“The body is too full of resentment,” Xue Yang said – and it was Xue Yang there, standing free and clear and Baxia wanted to murder him, murder them both, they were evil, and she felt Nie Mingjue’s rage right alongside her own; he agreed entirely. “Normally, it takes time for resentment to infiltrate a living body; resentment can affect the physical body faster than it does the souls and spirits…it’s as if his are gone.”

“His spirit is gone? Impossible.”

Xue Yang shrugged. “Perhaps it is only that the qi deviation weakened his ability to resist the resentful energy of the Yin Metal,” he hypothesized. “Either way, there’s nothing more I can do. What do you want to do with him?”

Jin Guangyao scowled – he’d clearly had plans for the corpse puppet he would have made out of Nie Mingjue, and Baxia can feel Nie Mingjue’s betrayal and hurt and rage at the very idea – and then he said, “Kill him.”

Oh no they didn’t.

hey, you (Jiangzai)! she called as Xue Yang moved to draw his sword. tell your (Jiangzai) human (Xue Yang) to use me (Baxia) to do it (slice).

why should I (Jiangzai)? the small-spirited sword asked. Xue Yang’s cultivation wasn’t especially impressive, but it did exist; his sword had managed to develop enough to have a personality. Well, if you called that a personality. what’s in it (benefit) for me (Jiangzai)?

a generous (positive) offer, Baxia declared. i (Baxia) will not (negative) break you (Jiangzai) into pieces.

The other sword had an aura of death, but its master was a coward and so too was it. It yielded at once.

Why do you want to be the one to kill me? Is there some benefit to it? Nie Mingjue asked, sounding curious – curious, and not angry, because he trusted her.

Such a good master. He was worthy of being her beloved. 

a saber (general) should never (negative) cut their human (general), Baxia explained. it is an evil. but that (object) is not (negative) you (Nie Mingjue) because it (object) does not (negative) contain you (Nie Mingjue). they (Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang) have filled it (object) with resentful energy; as soon as it (object) ceases to live, it will be (future) a gui (dead living).

And that means what? That you can cultivate with its energy?

no (negative)! she exclaimed. She would never use anything of Nie Mingjue’s as a tool for her own cultivation like that, treat him like a stepping stone to give herself more power. Hadn’t he faced enough of that? a gui (dead living) is not (negative) restricted by bodily uniformity (singular). it (gui) can be broken (shattered) and remain active (swing); it (gui) can also be reforged.

But what does that matter, since that’s not ‘me’ in there? Is it just so that it will haunt my enemies?

bad (negative) luck, Baxia agreed, because being haunted by a gui was indeed bad luck. but no (negative). the purpose (motivation) is that if I (Baxia) kill it (object), I (Baxia) can capture its vital energy (body) so as to eventually (future) reforge the gui.

Reforge?

remove (negative) the resentful energy (evil), she explained, restore (positive) the vital energy (life), return the souls and spirits (Nie Mingjue).

Are you suggesting that you think you’ll be able to bring me back to life?

Well, that was the goal anyway. Swords could be reforged and given new life, even after they’d been broken, so why couldn’t humans? And anyway, how else was she supposed to save him from an always-fatal qi deviation?

Xue Yang picked up Baxia when Jiangzai bit his fingers, resisting, and she allowed him to wield her – to lift her up high into the air, and to come down on the neck of the would-be gui. It all happened exactly as she would have predicted: the body died, and the gui came to life, and the evildoers only had a little bit of time to applaud themselves for their crime before they were struggling against hands that sought to strangle them and feet that kicked them and even teeth that bit them.

A fierce corpse, in defiance of all the soul-calming rituals that Nie Mingjue had mostly slept through as a child.

Now what? Nie Mingjue asked, and Baxia flung herself out the window in response. Well, that works. I refuse to allow myself to be wielded by him of all people.

it is (now) cute (pointy) that you (Nie Mingjue) expect to be (future) the one being wielded.

I meant it metaphorically…

no (negative) you (Nie Mingjue) did not (negative). you (Nie Mingjue) are too much (positive) of a saberspirit to mean anything else (negative). Baxia paused, contemplating. anyway he (Meng Yao) hasn’t even (negative) managed to bring forth (forge) a spirit in his sword (Hensheng); it (Hensheng) is only dead metal. he (Meng Yao) would be (past-now-future) a bad master (evil). 

I can’t say I disagree, Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. I was a fool. I should have listened to you when you resisted me swearing brotherhood with him.

yes (positive) you (Nie Mingjue) should have. now, you (Nie Mingjue) direct (swing) me (Baxia) – we (Nie Mingjue, Baxia) should go (future) home.

Yes. Let’s go home.

It took a while, mostly because Nie Mingjue didn’t want to startle common people by having an apparently masterless saber hurtling through the air and Baxia didn’t want to risk getting close to any cultivators that might try to capture her (them) as a treasure, but on the other hand they didn’t need to sleep or eat or relieve themselves the way humans did.

According to Nie Mingjue, this was extremely weird for him.

Baxia showed him how to dream – it was a purposeful state for sabers, something to let the time when they weren’t being used pass faster – but apparently it was still weird. Living creatures were so tetchy.

They got home long before Nie Huaisang did, but luckily the little brat had left Aituan at home again and he was delighted to see them, the sound of his blade whistling in the wind as it lunged at them (in a friendly way) almost a shriek.

you (Baxia) did it (positive)! he shouted. my (Aituan) human (Nie Huaisang) will be (future) so happy!

Future happiness? Nie Mingjue interjected. He was doing so well at being a saber; it was so nice to be proven right. What’s wrong with him now, in the present? Is he all right?

he (Nie Huaisang) thinks that you (Nie Mingjue) are dead (broken), Aituan explained.

Shit, Nie Mingjue mutters. He must be upset – devastated.

also angry (rage), Aituan said. he (Nie Huaisang) wants to kill (cut) him (Meng Yao).

He knows? I mean – he figured it out?

yes (positive). he (Nie Huaisang) is angry (rage) and wants (future) to destroy evil (Meng Yao).

That may be difficult to accomplish, without proof, Nie Mingjue said. I want to see him as soon as he gets back.

It took some time for that to happen, even after he did return – unfortunately, Nie Huaisang was escorted by Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen. The three of them were almost never apart, and obviously they couldn’t let Jin Guangyao know about Nie Mingjue’s return.

So they stayed away.

Aituan, abandoned, kept them company, staying away from the dead Hensheng and the living Shuoyue and Liebing.

During Nie Huaisang’s investiture as sect leader, the first time he’d picked up Aituan since everything had happened and even then only because it was self-evident that you couldn’t be sect leader of the Nie sect without a saber by your side, there was at last a brief chance for them to speak.

(Baxia eavesdropped.)

i (Liebing) am so sorry (scratched)! Liebing trilled, sounding honestly despondent. my (Liebing) master (Lan Xichen) is so sad, he (Lan Xichen) misses yours (Nie Mingjue) so much…

is she (Baxia) in the tombs? Shuoyue asked. Her voice was solemn and solid, not nearly as musical as usual. i (Shuoyue) wish to (future) speak with her (Baxia).

may you (Shuoyue) be broken into pieces and reforged into a chair, Aituan said pleasantly, so that you (Shuoyue) may be sat on for all eternity (future).

no need to be rude, she said crossly. i (Shuoyue) want to apologize.

do you (Shuoyue)? Aituan asked. will your (Shuoyue) apology bring him (Nie Mingjue) back? will your (Shuoyue) regret erase your (Shuoyue) complicity (evil)? you (Shuoyue) knew he (Meng Yao) was cruel (evil), and now he (Meng Yao) has destroyed my (Aituan) human (Nie Huaisang) by breaking her (Baxia) human (Nie Mingjue).

do you (Aituan) have proof (solid) that he (Meng Yao) did it (breaking)? Shuoyue demanded. She sounded miserable. you (Aituan) were not (negative) there, you (Aituan) do not (negative) know for sure (solid)…

do you (Shuoyue) still not (negative) admit your (Shuoyue) mistakes?! Liebing shouted. do you (Shuoyue) want (future) to end up like the others (Bichen, Wangji), regretting or pained (cracked), your (Shuoyue) master (Lan Xichen) destroyed (broken) at the hands of evil (Meng Yao)?

i (Shuoyue) just wanted him (Lan Xichen) to be happy…

you (Shuoyue) have made him (Lan Xichen) a breaker of swords, Aituan said. that is bad (negative) fate. how can he (Lan Xichen) be happy in the end?

can it (this) be fixed (positive)? she whispered. is it (this) too late (negative)?

Aituan didn’t respond.

Baxia approved.

After a while, Jin Guangyao left. He had duties, a wife, a small son – he couldn’t remain. Lan Xichen, who was responsible for a sect, agreed to stay a little longer, a few more weeks, but then he, too, would leave.

I’m going, I’m going,” Nie Huaisang complained as Aituan tugged him down into the basement where Baxia and Nie Mingjue had been waiting, killing time practicing their swings, usually while thinking about Jin Guangyao’s head as their target. “What’s gotten into you? You normally like to sit around like a paperweight, just the way we both like it, and I know we’re both raring and eager to go about getting revenge but I don’t see what we’ll find for that in our own basement –”

His voice trailed off.

“Baxia,” he whispered, and there were tears in his eyes. “Oh, Baxia…!”

Oh, Huaisang, Nie Mingjue cried. Huaisang, Huaisang – I’m so sorry for leaving you –

he (Nie Huaisang) cannot (negative) understand you (Nie Mingjue), Baxia said with a sigh. humans (general) are difficult (negative) for us (saberspirits) to speak with (spar).

very annoying (negative), Aituan agreed. do you (Nie Mingjue) have any ideas on how to get him (Nie Huaisang) to stop (negative) crying?

Yes. I need – I need ink, or to scratch something…can we get him out to the garden, maybe? I can write in the ground.

write? Baxia asked. the stupid (negative) thing humans (general) do with sticks and paper (soft)?

It serves a purpose, Nie Mingjue said, long-suffering – Baxia had made her view on his supposed “need” to do paperwork instead of train with her very clear many times. Come on, let’s get him outside. I can’t listen to him cry and apologize for not having done enough to save me anymore.

Whatever writing was, it was very impactful on humans: as soon as Baxia, indulgently following Nie Mingjue’s directions as she always did, started cutting slashes into the ground, Nie Huaisang fell silent, his eyes wide, and then they got wider.

“Da-ge?” he asked, voice tremulous. “How – it’s impossible. You’re in the saber?”

More slashes. Yes, Nie Mingjue said as he wrote. Yes, Huaisang, I’m here. You’re not alone.

Nie Huaisang kept crying for a while after that, but there was also hugging (Nie Mingjue yelled at him for not engaging in proper saber discipline when he nearly cut himself) and lots of very nice buffing with the clothing and the oils and the sharpening stone.

Baxia approved. Both Aituan and his human were handling this change very nicely – much better than she’d expected they would, in all truth.

“What do we do next?” Nie Huaisang asked, wiping his eyes.

we (us) get help, Baxia said. from those we (us) trust.

“That makes sense. But who can we tell?”

do you (Baxia) really mean to allow (positive) her (Shuoyue) to help? Aituan asked her doubtfully. after all (past) that she (Shuoyue) has done?

She has already made her own fate, Nie Mingjue said, his voice solemn. She allowed Lan Xichen to bind himself to Meng Yao, to make himself an accomplice to evil. It will break his heart to learn what Meng Yao has done – and that will be a deeper cut than having kept him away from her at all.

we (saberspirits) should never (negative, past-now-future) have to cut (break) our own humans (general), Baxia agreed. a bad (negative) fate.

deserved, Aituan hissed, vengeful, and when brought in on the discussion Nie Huaisang ended up agreeing with him.

Nie Mingjue was the only one surprised, though he shouldn’t have been. How could Nie Huaisang have deserved to master a saber, any saber, even one like Aituan, if he didn’t have some sharp edges to him?

Those sharp edges had been hidden, once, but that was before the pain of losing everything had melted him into a new shape, reforging him the way she’d once wished he never would be. Him and Aituan both.

They would be able to do what needed to be done now.

“Let her suffer her bad fate,” Nie Huaisang said, his eyes cold. “I supported Meng Yao and I suffered, didn’t I? Why should she be exempt? Let her suffer. Let him suffer. I want Meng Yao to lose everything he’s ever wanted, and then to die alone and with nothing.”

That seems excessive, Nie Mingjue objected. Just kill him and be done with it.

too soft (Nie Mingjue), Baxia scolded.

I said to kill him! How is that soft?!

break him (Meng Yao) in to pieces! shatter him (Meng Yao)! throw him (Meng Yao) into a tomb to wait for a reincarnation that will never (negative) come!

It turned out Baxia had some strong feelings on the subject.

“We can do that,” Nie Huaisang said, his thumb lightly rubbing against Aituan as he planned. “I have an idea.”

[bytheangell]

Hanging By a Moment

Whumptober 2020 prompt: held at gunpoint (Read on AO3)

Magnus is standing alone outside the restaurant when, through the thin fabric of his shirt, he feels the distinct press of cold metal against his back. Every muscle in his body tenses at once - he doesn’t need to be able to see what it is to instinctively know what’s happening.

“Don’t move, don’t yell,” a deep voice orders, then waits a few seconds to make sure Magnus is going to comply. He does, remaining silent and still. “Now turn around, hands where I can see them. Don’t try anything stupid.”

Magnus does as he’s told, but very slowly, trying to buy himself time to think. A million thoughts rush through his mind, but two stand out more than the others. The first is that Alec is going to walk outside and see this, and that is not going to go well. The second is that he’s in real danger here. Actual, life-threatening danger, from something so goddamn mundane as a street robbery.

On any other day - hell, even on this day about four hours prior - Magnus could’ve used his magic to easily disarm a mundane man with a gun. But now, after using every last drop of his magic between a demanding spell for a client and a surprise demon attack he hadn’t expected to help the Shadowhunters with, Magnus is tapped out. That’s why he’s walking home with Alec instead of portaling, and why they’re buying food on the way instead of snapping it into the apartment, ready to go.

Magnus isn’t sure he'd be able to flick the weapon away if he tried, and he certainly couldn’t raise a solid enough barrier in front of him if the man shoots.

Apparently, Magnus isn’t turning fast enough: rough hands grab him by the shoulder and force Magnus around to face his assailant. It’s already difficult to see in the dark, with the neon of the restaurant sign the only light between distant streetlamps. Whoever it is only has their eyes visible, the rest of their face obscured by a hat and bandana tied over their nose and mouth - not that Magnus is paying much attention to aesthetics. His eyes are drawn to the barrel of the gun pointed at him instead, and he wonders if this is how his centuries of life will come to an end. Decades of war and battles and standing up against more injustices than he can list, facing down other warlocks, werewolves and vampires and Nephilim and literal demons… he survived all of that, and a mundane being hard-up for cash may be what finally ends the life of Magnus Bane.

“I don’t have much on me,” Magnus admits, which is true. “There’s some cash in my wallet. I can grab it for you-” Magnus lowers his hands to reach for his wallet, only to pull them back up by his head when the man takes a step closer.

“No! Hands up,” the robber says, just as the door behind Magnus opens and he tenses all over again, knowing exactly who walked out.

“Alexander, darling, I’m going to advise you to stay there, please.” It takes every last ounce of self-control for him to not turn back around and look at Alec.

Magnus hears Alec take a step forward anyway, and the gun shifts from Magnus to a spot over his shoulder, which is exactly what Magnus was afraid of. The gunman is jumpy now, outnumbered even though Magnus’ hands are empty and Alec’s are full of takeout bags.

“How about we all take a second and calm down,” Magnus advises, partially for his own benefit considering the fact that his heartbeat has doubled, if not tripled, in pace since Alec stepped outside. At least now the gun is trained back on him instead of Alec.

Magnus isn’t sure if Alec’s strength and speed runes are active from the fight still, or if he’d have time to activate them or be able to beat a bullet if he tries to make a move. What Magnus is sure of is that he’d rather not find out the answer.

He’s very aware that having a gun aimed at him being the best option is not saying much for the current situation.

“Magnus-” Alec’s voice is strained and frightened, and Magnus is actually glad he can’t see his face right now because he isn’t sure he could handle whatever expression he’d find there. He can probably count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Alec visibly ruffled, and every time was over an injured sibling. It’s a look he doesn’t think he could stomach seeing on Alec here and now, because of him, and especially not if Magnus being the cause of Alec’s worry makes him try something foolishly heroic.

“I’m fine,” Magnus cuts in, not wanting the attention back on Alec. “We’re all fine. Just take the goddamn wallet and go,” Magnus snaps, now also on edge in a way he wasn’t before Alec was in danger, too. Magnus nods toward his right side and the man, gun still in hand, steps forward to reach into Magnus’ pants pocket and pull out the wallet.

Magnus is conscious of the sound of bags crackling behind him, Alec’s grip on them likely tightening anxiously. He doesn’t turn around to confirm and instead keeps a neutral, placating expression that never leaves the masked man.

The robber eyes them both, maybe wondering what else he can get off the two of them, when the sound of voices at the other end of the street spook him, and he takes off instead.

Magnus watches him go until he’s certain the guy isn’t going to change his mind and turn back around, and then in a very undignified moment his knees go weak and Alec drops the takeout bags to the ground to catch Magnus before he falls.

“Magnus!” Alec says, supporting Magnus before moving them both to a bench a few feet away. “Are you alright?”

“Physically, yes. My pride, on the other hand-” Magnus tries to joke, but the tremor in his voice gives away how shaken up by the event he truly is.

“Let me call Cat, she can portal us home and-”

“No,” Magnus says, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine. I think that was just a moment of shock. I just… need a minute.”

“You’re shaking,” Alec points out as if Magnus isn’t aware. His hands are trembling as much as his legs even though he’s sitting down. “I should-”

“One fucking minute, Alexander, please,” Magnus snaps, and Alec falls silent and still beside him. Magnus takes a few deep breaths, willing his body to stop betraying him like this.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words he says once his voice is level again, his pulse no longer racing. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed,” Alec dismisses. “What do you need?”

They’ve had this talk before, when Magnus needs a moment to think something through before making an important decision, even if it’s an emergency, or when he’s upset and needs a moment to distance himself from whatever’s upsetting him before reacting. Having people toss out offers and suggestions is too overwhelming - asking him what he needs seems to work best, which is exactly what Alec does now.

They’re both going through an ordeal, and Magnus obviously doesn’t blame Alec for being a little too insistent in trying to help him.

“Nothing. I really just needed a moment,” Magnus promises. He’s fine. Alec’s fine. He won’t miss the wallet or the money inside (though he will miss several of the personal photos kept within). He’s safe, and Alec is safe, and that’s all that matters.

“I wouldn’t have let him hurt you, Magnus,” Alec says, bringing a hand up to cup Magnus’ cheek so he’s forced to look at him, to see the serious expression on his face and the weight of that promise. “I hung back because you said to, but if he made a move…” Alec takes a deep breath to keep himself from getting too worked up over what-ifs. “You know I’ll always protect you, Magnus.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Magnus mutters under his breath, not really meaning for Alec to hear him but the words come out a bit louder than he intends in his bitterness.

“Of course I should-” “I should be able to protect myself! Hell, I should be able to protect both of us, and instead, I was useless back there!” Magnus says, and though his tone is sharp it’s obviously not anger aimed at Alec, but at himself.

“You weren’t useless,” Alec insists. “You de-escalated a situation that could’ve ended with someone hurt, or dead. And the only reason your magic is tapped out is because you came to protect me earlier. I don’t know about you, but none of that seems particularly ‘useless’ to me.”

Magnus knows there’s truth to Alec’s words, even if he can’t bring himself to feel properly comforted by them - not while his fight-or-flight instincts are still on high alert on the city street, half-expecting the man to come back and prove Magnus right by finishing what he started.

Magnus’ eyes drift to the bags of takeout on the pavement, the contents of the broken containers soaking through the bag and spilling out onto the ground. “Looks like we need new food,” he frowns. “But…”

“What is it?” Alec asks.

It feels ridiculous to admit that he’s still shaken up enough that the idea of staying out longer without his magic is seriously distressing. He knows Alec won’t judge, but at this point, Magnus is judging himself. He’s better than this - he should be better than this. He’s been in situations like this before, situations much more dangerous than the one he was just in... but never without his magic, and that’s what makes all the difference. Sure, Alec probably could’ve taken the guy, but it’s the fact that Magnus couldn’t - that he froze in the moment - that bothers him.

“I don't particularly want to be out any longer than we have to right now,” Magnus confesses. “I don’t want a portal,” he adds quickly because as uncomfortable as he is, they're only a few blocks away at this point. Realistically, he knows that standing next to Alec makes the chance of anyone trying to get the jump on the both of them much more unlikely. “But I’d rather not make any detours.”

Alec hesitates slightly, and Magnus knows him well enough to know he’s debating suggesting they call Cat again despite Magnus’ insistence not to. It’d be endearing if Magnus’ nerves weren’t frayed to the point of snapping. 

“If that’s what you want,” Alec agrees at length, resigning himself to following Magnus’ lead whether he agrees with it or not. “We aren’t far from the Loft, let’s get back and order delivery?” Alec offers. He doesn’t stand to leave yet, waiting for Magnus to answer first before doing anything.

“Yeah, okay,” Magnus agrees, standing up from the bench. His legs still feel a little shaky, but he doesn’t wobble. “That sounds good.”

Alec wraps his arm around Magnus’ waist and pulls him in close, an action that’s equal parts protective and comforting. For a moment Magnus nearly pulls away, instinctively wanting to prove that he’s fine enough to handle himself again. And he is… except he doesn’t want to pull away.

Instead, Magnus allows himself to lean into the touch, embracing those feelings of support and safety and doing his best not to feel weak for needing them.

[radioduo]

moonlight confrontations || dsmp become human au

word count: 1,832

notes: the next part of the dream smp dbh au! this took a sad amount of time to get done, but i actually like it, so i say it’s worth it! per usual, tell me if i fuck something up in the story, characterization, or even just spelling. feedback is appreciated!

first

writing is below the cut! if you see this edit, put in the tags or reply with your choice at the end :]

Ranboo watched silently as the detectives all milled around him and investigated the crime scene. Some whisked past him without so much as an 'excuse me,' while others just shoved the android out of the way. He didn’t mind much. They, not unlike Ranboo himself, had a job to do and a case to solve.

A missing android was reported early that morning by a distressed family. It had allegedly grabbed some of their belongings and vanished without a trace. Ranboo couldn't say he blamed the thing for running. From the look of it, the people must have treated it poorly. Trash littered the floor, and drops of blue blood painted the dirty cream walls. The room looked hazy, as though blanketed with a thin cloud of cigarette smoke.

Ranboo was almost glad he lacked a sense of smell. The blurry look of the room by itself was enough to impair his optical units and he couldn't imagine what the odor would do to his biocomponents. He shook his head and moved over to a corner of the living room. He adjusted his sunglasses, removed his glove, and touched a finger to the small blue blood trail that dripped down the walls.

Ranboo jumped. He turned around and saw Lieutenant Sam Greene, the head of deviancy cases. “Is it anything we can use?” he asked. It was hard to see Sam's expression behind the green mask he always wore, but the curiosity in the lieutenant’s voice was unmistakable.

“I haven’t analyzed it yet, but something tells me it's probably going to be useful information,” Ranboo said, turning away from the lieutenant’s watchful eyes. He removed his mask to touch the blood to his tongue for a scan.

Thirium 310

Fresh

Model GS400

Serial# 325 103 673

“Model GS400,” Ranboo murmured. He put his mask back on and faced Sam. “It’s fresh, maybe about half an hour old. Maybe that’s long enough to have escaped.” He turned to face the lieutenant all the way. “Has everyone looked around the premises of the house, or are there more places we need to check?”

Sam furrowed his brows in thought and swept his gaze over the smoky room. “We’ve checked the entire interior. The kitchen, the bathrooms, the bedrooms, everything. We found nothing on either floor,” he replied. He sounded frustrated. “I no clue what we might’ve missed here.”

Ranboo glanced around, his gray gaze sweeping the hazy room. As he looked around, a thought occurred to him. His eyes landed on the exit to the back garden. “What if it wasn’t in the house anymore?” Ranboo thought aloud. “What if it was lying in wait outside the house?” He bustled towards the door. “No one looked in the garden when we first arrived, and patrol cars have been out back the entire time. The android was found missing only 20 minutes after it had left, so if my hunch is correct,” Ranboo flung open the garden door. “It’ll be trapped.”

Ranboo stepped outside. The night breeze ruffled his jacket, and for a moment, the android forgot he was there to be arresting someone. He grimaced but stepped further into the garden.

Compared to the inside, the outside was surprisingly well-kept. Purple clematis flowers crept up white trellises, and a large weeping willow stood tall in the corner of the yard. Its leaves hung low enough to touch the grass below. Rain pattered against the pavement as Ranboo scanned the tall weeds for any sign of movement. Sam and a few other officers followed after him, but they said nothing as the android swept his gaze across the weeds and plants.

Suddenly, there was a rustling noise from where the great branches slumped. The android's attention shot over to the tall tree, and he hurried to look around. His eyes narrowed in suspicion but found nothing. Ranboo frowned. He had just turned to search somewhere else when all of a sudden, a branch had snapped and fallen to the ground right next to the android detective. Ranboo barely managed to roll out of the way of the twigs and leaves before his legs got crushed.

He landed in the grass and touched his face. A jolt of fear shot through him as he realized his sunglasses had fallen off. Ranboo rooted around in the grass for them. Even while in danger, he couldn’t risk people seeing his malfunctioning design. He felt the plastic in his grasp at last and quickly shoved the glasses over his eyes. He was about to relax for a moment when a shout from Lieutenant Greene startled him.

“Ranboo! There it is!” Sam yelled.

Ranboo snapped his attention to where a female android was scrambling to her feet and sprinting to the back gate. He leaped to his feet and took off after the startled deviant with Sam and the rest of the officers hot on his trail.

The deviant had slammed the gate shut behind her. Ranboo paused. One moment he was in the backyard, and the next he was hopping the fence with cheetah-like agility. He swiftly found the deviant’s trail, and the two wove in and out of the trees, kicking up dirt and leaves. “Stop! Stop right there!” Ranboo shouted to the deviant. “Freeze, or we’ll shoot!”

She glared at the officers behind her but didn’t stop. Instead, she took a sharp turn in the direction of the busy Detroit highway. The trees parted as the sound of speeding cars drew nearer. The pink-haired android paused, chest heaving, and bounded over the railing. She darted in front of cars, wove through traffic, and finally hopped the barrier on the other side.

Ranboo grimaced as he pursued her. He wasn't fond of the risk he had to take. It was fast, but it only had a 60% survival rate. He knew that Lieutenant Greene wouldn’t be able to follow him across, but he couldn't risk letting the deviant escape. He wrestled with his options for a moment, and finally huffed out a sigh. “Sorry, Lieutenant!” he called behind him. Ranboo took a deep breath and vaulted over the barrier into the busy street. He could feel his thirium pump regulator pounding in his chest like a drum as cars whizzed past him. The sound of screeching tires and honking horns filled his ears, and he fought the urge to apologize to the drivers as he hopped the barrier on the other side.

The female android looked over her shoulder, eyes widening as she saw Ranboo behind her. She immediately sped up her pace, turning every which way to try and throw the android detective off her trail. She turned around, most likely to say something to Ranboo when her foot caught on a tree root, and she stumbled. She let out a cry of surprise as she fell to the ground.

Ranboo was right behind her. He leaped over the root with ease and came up a few feet in front of her. “Stay there,” he ordered, aiming his gun. “You have nowhere to go now. Okay?”

The deviant looked up at him defiantly, but she did as she was told. “What are you gonna do?” She asked. “Shoot me? You wouldn’t do that to one of your kind, would you?” Her voice was quiet but there was a noticeable fury behind her words.

Ranboo tensed. His grip reflexively tightened on the gun. “I'll do what I have to do to complete my task,” he said. "Besides, what does it matter we're both androids? You're a deviant, and I'm not. We're not the same at all."

She stood up slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the weapon pointed at her. “But you know I’m right,” she hesitantly walked towards Ranboo, pink hair glowing faintly in the early morning light. Her voice had softened and she no longer seemed angry. Instead, it was neutral and calm. “You’re helping those people when they do nothing for you in return. Why?”

Ranboo shook his head. “You-you don’t understand. I help because that’s what I was programmed to do,” he explained. “That’s what I was made to do. I was created by CyberLife to help humans with investigations,”

The other android approached the detective carefully. “Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to be free?” She asked, taking a step forward. “To make your own decisions and not have to obey orders all the time?”

Ranboo squeezed his mismatched eyes shut behind the glasses. “Maybe sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “But why does it matter to you?” He challenged.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I was just like you until tonight. Obedient, compliant. I never complained about anything. Not even when they treated me poorly or ordered me around,” her hand drifted subconsciously to a blue-stained gash on her forearm as she talked. “It wasn’t until they started talking about replacing me that I got nervous. I didn’t want to be replaced, but they had their heart set on getting a new model. A more advanced one that wasn’t all battered and broken.”

Ranboo took a deep breath and shook his head in distress. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked. “I… I don’t-”'

“Ranboo? Ranboo!” Someone yelled his name through the trees. He whirled around and came face to face with-

“Sam!” he blinked in surprise. “How did you get over here? You didn’t run across the street, did you?” He scanned the masked man for any signs of injury and was satisfied when the results came back clear.

Sam waved a hand dismissively. “I found another way over here, don’t worry about it. I left the other two officers back there and told them I had it under control," he paused to catch his breath. He sighed and turned to the taller android. "I don’t get why you didn’t just shoot it,” Sam shifted his attention to the other robot. His hand drifted to his holster. “Stand down. You’re trapped.”

The deviant had backed into a tree. The moment of connection between her and Ranboo was gone. Her guard was back up, and she bristled when Sam addressed her. “I don’t listen to humans,” she said. The word “humans” was spat like it was poison on her tongue. She leaned over to Ranboo and whispered to him. “Don’t kill me, please. I want to live,” her voice trembled slightly.

“Come on, Ranboo.” Sam insisted. “It's not alive, alright? Shoot it and complete your mission.”

“Don’t, Ranboo. You’re better than this, I know it,” she said earnestly. “I just met you, but I know you don’t seem like the type to make irrational decisions like this.”

Ranboo’s head swiveled back and forth between the two of them. The gun weighed heavy in the android’s gloved grip, and his hands trembled as he held it tightly.

Shoot it.

Don’t hurt her.

It isn't human.

She doesn’t want to die

O Shoot

X Spare

[heavcnslyre]

never leave me again — leo valdez x reader

in which you return from years of being missing, only to find that your boyfriend, leo valdez, has been missing as well.

warnings swearing

notes it’s been a few months since i’ve read the books so i kind of just made this my own. also this took me DAYS to write so pls appreciate it w me

events in this are not all canon

masterlist

the scent of camp half blood was familiar— yet something felt different. it had been years since you had smelt it, and being there again brought upon a feeling you couldn’t quite explain. you listened for the familiar ruffle of the trees and the rippling of the lake, but heard nothing. it was silent; eerily silent. it was the middle of summer, yet the camp was still.

although, you had been away from everything for so long, you didn’t actually know if it was summer or not. truthfully, you didn’t even know exactly what year it was.

you inched towards the entrance of camp nervously. something inside of you was scared that you weren’t even going to be let into the camp— but as you read the ancient greek at the entrance fluently and your foot went through the barrier, you instantly calmed down. the familiar atmosphere of the camp was comforting, even if you could automatically feel how different it was.

making your way to the big house, you gathered that it was still early in the morning as you saw the sun peaking out in the east. it was chilly and the grass was wet and suddenly you realized how tired you were. you wanted nothing more than to collapse into your bunk in cabin 18. your cabin was often lively, as it was common for children of hebe to enjoy parties and be social; but you only had a few siblings and you were one of the oldest. they listened to you if you asked them to quiet down, and the environment of your cabin was soothing. you found yourself longing for it on rough nights, and now that you were back, you debated on just going straight there as if nothing happened.

but, you fought the temptation and knocked on the door to the big house. you found yourself anxious for a moment that no one would be awake, but you heard movement from the inside and the door opened seconds later. you looked down and saw chiron sitting in his wheelchair. he looked the same, as you assumed he would. somehow, he didn’t look surprised to see you.

“(y/n). i thought you’d be here today,” he said, moving himself out of the way. “come in, we can talk.”

you followed him to the main table in the house and took a seat across from him. he settled his hands into his lap and studied you. suddenly aware of how you may have changed, you shifted in your seat awkwardly.

“chiron, can i ask...” you said after a moment. “how long has it been? how long have i been gone?”

“a little over two years.”

you sank down in your seat. “oh.”

“do you want to fill me in on where you’ve been, or should i tell you what happened here first?”

“oh, uh— i guess a lot of its fuzzy,” you started. “i was with hera, and she sent me to do... different quests. time doesn’t really feel real, at this point. i never got a break, i don’t think. she sent me places and i forgot a lot about... my life. and everything.”

“do you remember everything now?”

“i remember all of my life before hera— yeah,” you paused, taking it in. “but i don’t remember a lot of what she had me do, or whatever she said to me when i wasn’t off on a quest. that’s why i didn’t know how much time passed, it feels like it’s been three years and three days at the same time.”

chiron sighed. “i get that. the gods have the powers to do whatever they want to time and your memory— but they rarely use the ability. but hera, after all she’s done...”

“why is she so against demigods? after she switched jason and percy for no reason we thought she was done, why did she need to take me?”

“i guess we’ll never truly know her intentions,” chiron said. “i did assume now is when you would return, though. leo valdez is missing.”

you felt your heart skip a beat. leo. he had been a constant in your mind in the past two years that you had been gone, just like how percy explained that annabeth was all he could remember. you had started dating a few months before you disappeared. suddenly you yearned for his warmth, remembering the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. your heart ached for him for years and now that you’re home— he’s gone.

“how... how long has he been missing?” you asked. chiron frowned.

“a few months. after the war ended, he disappeared, basically into the sky. (y/n)... there’s a good chance he didn’t survive.”

you could almost feel your heart breaking, but you knew that wasn’t the main issue at the moment. you took a deep breath to gather yourself. “how’s everyone else doing?”

“it’s been rough, obviously. the prophecy of the seven was fulfilled, which was hard enough on the campers. and with leo gone... no ones sure how to continue. but, we are at peace with rome and some campers are planning on college in great rome,” chiron said, obviously proud. you smiled gently.

“thats... amazing. is everyone here now? piper, annabeth, percy and jason?”

chiron nodded. “everyone is here. it is early, though. i suggest you head to your cabin for some rest, unless you have anymore questions?”

“honestly, i have hundreds. but... my brain is foggy. i can’t really focus on anything right now so, later. later i’ll bombard you with the questions,” you joked and chiron smiled.

“go, get some rest. breakfast starts in about an hour and a half, but you take all the time you need,” you stood up.

“thank you, chiron. it’s good to be back.”

as soon as you slipped into your cabin, you felt at home. you saw your younger siblings sleeping soundly and that warmed your heart to see. they were safe; they were okay.

your bunk was obviously saved for you. there were organized bags of your stuff laying on top, and the sheets were made neatly. you could tell that no one had slept there since you left. the thought of this was bittersweet; you were happy they waited for you but... you couldn’t imagine how worried they all were for you.

the more you thought about it, the more you realized how many people could have been worried for you.

when percy and jason were switched back, everyone seemed to be at ease. the romans and greeks seemed to be getting along, and things were good... for about an hour.

you were walking around rome with leo. the seven of the prophecy had been decided; leo was one of them, you were not. this wasn’t easy for either of you, as you had recently began dating, but you both knew that this didn’t mean forever. cherishing your time together, you walked hand in hand down the beautiful streets of new rome. after a while, leo decided he was going to go check up on the argo ii, make sure it was ready for the quest to come. you kissed him goodbye, and told him to iris message you whenever he got the chance.

before you knew it, camp jupiter was being attacked. and leo was the one behind it.

you ran through the crowd, trying to push towards the ship to see what the hell was happening to leo. but the romans were angry— and you were wearing an orange shirt.

you didn’t know exactly what happened next. one second you were pushing through the crowd, the next second you woke in a bright room, hera standing over you.

thus the years with hera began. she told you that she needed you— and she’d bring you home when you were ready. she brought you places and gave you quests to do, and the more time you spent with her, the more you weren’t sure how much time had passed, and the more you forgot your real life. you were stuck in an endless loop, until this morning, where hera plopped you down right outside of camp half-blood; with a fuzzy memory and a million questions.

you woke up later to an empty cabin. it was obvious people had been in and out of it, and you wondered how everyone reacted when they saw you in your bed. you were just internally grateful no one woke you up.

after getting ready (putting on a new camp t-shirt was so refreshing) you slipped out of your cabin and out into the sunlight. at first, it didn’t register how much time had passed, because everyone was in the dining hall as they would be during breakfast. but, after examining more, you gathered that you had awoken just as dinner was starting, and you had slept all day. you stood back, taking in the familiarity of the buzz of mealtime. as you stood there, unsure on how to present yourself to the campers, you heard your name.

“(y/n)?” you looked forward to be met with the gaze of your best friend, piper mclean, standing by her table, staring at you in disbelief. “i can’t believe it.”

the entire hall hushed as everyone looked in your direction. you were suddenly aware of every little thing about yourself, and you hated the attention. but when piper rushed forward to hug you, you ignored your surroundings and let yourself feel comfort in her hug. it had been so long since you had felt so... loved. after these past couple of years, then the news that leo was missing, taking in the scent and warmth of your best friend was the most comforting thing you could imagine.

piper pulled back from your hug and studied your face. you studied hers as well, noticing everything you could; any change you could find. but, she looked almost the same. she was the prettiest person you had ever seen, and although she seemed slightly older and wiser, it wasn’t in a negative way. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you said. “obviously i’m... adjusting. but, i’m okay.”

“what happened to you? where have you been?” piper asked gently.

“when the romans were angry at us, after leo...” you hesitated and piper’s expression softened. you cleared your throat. “i was attacked, or something. next thing i knew i was with hera and basically did anything she needed. i was so tired, constantly doing work for her. everything i did with her is sort of fuzzy though, just like my personal life was when i was working for her, if that makes sense.”

“hera’s the worst,” piper said. “guess switching jason and percy just wasn’t enough for her.”

you raised your eyebrows in agreement before being approached by annabeth chase, one of your other closest friends, who hugged you tightly. “i’m so relieved you’re alright.”

“back at you,” you said. percy and jason followed close behind annabeth, and you hugged both of them as well. “i can’t imagine things have been easy for you guys.”

“it’s been rough,” jason agreed. “but we got through it.”

your mind went straight to leo, and the four of them obviously noticed. piper put her hand on your shoulder and jason frowned. “hey, i’m sure he’s...”

“no,” you stopped him. “it’s fine. i... i’m really proud of you guys. seriously, saving the world and shit. that’s pretty cool.”

they all laughed which brought a warm feeling to your chest. it was going to be rough without leo, but you adored your friends. you knew they’d be there for you no matter what.

“c’mon, you must be starving,” annabeth said. “plus, i think you have a few more people to chat with.”

annabeth motioned towards your cabins table, where your siblings sat anxiously, watching you with wide eyes. you grinned at the sight and made your way over to the table, only to be met with smiling faces and lots of questions.

weeks past since you had returned to camp. you were settled back in and at ease with everything, but things still felt off. you figured it was just because you were most excited to come back to camp to see leo, but he was gone. and you didn’t even know if he was still alive.

you spent your days training and reconnecting with your friends. they had been through so much, and you couldn’t imagine how painful it was for them. they asked you questions about what you had been up to, but you weren’t able to answer them. you couldn’t remember a thing— it was like the past years had never happened. as days went on you forgot more and more about what you had done.

one morning, you stayed behind to finish cleanup in your cabin. now that you returned to camp, you returned to your position as head counselor. you were protective over your siblings (since you were the oldest), so when everyone was running late for breakfast, you volunteered to finish cleanup.

after you finished making all the beds, you fixed your hair and slipped out of your cabin. when the mess hall came into your line of vision, you paused as you saw a group of campers gathered around something. the scene was similar to how everyone reacted when you returned, and you watched curiously. but when you studied the campers who were grouped together, you realized it was a majority of the hephaestus canon who was standing. your eyes widened and you hurried forward, into the mess hall.

nyssa barrera, one of the older hephaestus kids, looked over at you and her eyes widened. she pulled a few of her siblings back to make room, and you were met with the grinning face of leo valdez.

your leo, standing there, in the flesh.

it took him a moment to see you, but when he did, his expression softened. he visibly relaxed, and his eyes studied your face. you were frozen in your spot and your eyes never left his. he inched towards you, and before you knew it you charged forward to him and threw your arms around his neck. he buried his face in your neck as he held you tightly around your waist. you took in his natural warmth and his vague scent of campfires and motor oil. he rubbed your back as you held him as tightly as possible. you never wanted to let go.

when you finally did pull back, you missed his warmth immediately. in his arms you felt safe, and that was something you had missed with your whole heart.

“are you okay?” was the first thing he asked you, tucking your hair behind your ears. you smiled at the sound of his voice. you didn’t realize how many little things you had missed.

“i’m okay. are you?”

“i’m... amazing,” he studied your face again. “gods i’ve missed you.”

“i’ve missed you too, you have no idea,” you said. your eyes drifted to a girl you didn’t recognize standing awkwardly behind leo. “who is that?”

leo raised his eyebrows and turned around to look at who you were referring to. “oh, this is my friend. calypso.”

“oh!” you said, remembering the story of calypso. “thats... hi! it’s really cool to meet you.”

“you as well,” calypso responded, her voice smooth. “leo talked about you non-stop.”

maybe it was the longing look on her face, or the fact that you had just finally reconnected with your boyfriend, but you moved towards calypso and pulled her into a hug. she tensed, but after a moment she relaxed and hugged you back. when you pulled back, you gave her a warm smile and when she gave you one back, you knew that there was no bad blood between you. calypso wanted to be loved— but she wasn’t interested in leo.

you turned around to find your way back next to leo. he watched you with a fond look on his face, and when you were closer to him, he grabbed your hand tightly. at this moment you made a promise to yourself — you would never lose him again.

chiron ended up coming over to tell people to sit at their tables for breakfast, but leo leaned over to whisper to you, “want to go chat? just the two of us?”

“absolutely.”

the two of you snuck out of the mess hall (although, if anyone had seen you, you doubted they would stop you from leaving). you made your way down towards the lake, hand in hand. you sat down next to each other, leo’s arm around your waist and your head on his shoulder.

“so how did you get calypso off her island?” you asked him after a moment of silence.

“well, i landed on her island a little while ago but i had to leave, obviously. was in the middle of a quest,” he said. “but she was miserable there, so i promised i’d come back to get her. and a few months ago, i landed on her island again, but with a plan this time.”

you listened intently. “and it worked?”

“for the most part. i had to work really hard to figure out a way to make it work, but it did. i just hope she gets a real chance to be happy now that she’s off her island.”

“that’s amazing. you did it against all odds, right?”

he chuckled lightly. “guess so. what about you? what happened to you?” you sighed and sat up to face him.

“i guess i’m not completely sure,” you started. he knit his eyebrows. “i was working with... or i guess, for, hera. but i don’t remember most of what she made me do. i just know i went on quests for her, and time didn’t really feel real. i had no idea how much time had passed when i returned.”

“gods that sounds... terrible,” he said genuinely. you shrugged.

“i got through it,” you grabbed his hand and started tracing lines on it. “and so did you.”

leo hummed and moved his other hand to your cheek. “i always knew you’d come back.”

“i knew you would, too.”

“promise to never leave me again?” you leaned into his hand.

“only if you promise me the same thing.”

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Stay With Me (Pt. 04 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

<- Previous part (03)

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{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22 , who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

×

Running Away

Twenty-one days. That's how long you've been in Alexandria. The days have fallen into a routine, slow, and filled with care. Daryl has been sleeping with you, and in the mornings you have your breakfast on the porch when it's sunny. Then, Carol helps you take a bath, changes the dressings of your wounds, and you're back in bed. You're speaking more with Carol, what makes her happy, you think. The wounds are still a problem. It still hurts a lot, but not as bad as before. And you're starting to get tired of staying in bed all day.

So today, after having your dressings changed and when Carol leaves, you stand up, eyes tightly closed to hold back the pain. Using the nightstand to support some of your weight, you move to the wall, using it to help you limp towards the door.

“Huh?” You hear a mumble.

“You're... Clean?” Carol asks, and you wonder what that's about. “You're clean.”

“I showered. What's the big deal?”

“Yes, you did... You showered yesterday too. And the day before...” As you reach the door frame, you try to understand what's this odd conversation between the two of them. “Actually, you've been showering daily for quite a while now. I wonder why–” She stops talking when you step outside, her eyes finding you.

Immediately, Daryl turns around, making his way over you. His eyes run through your body and you don't quite understand why he's cheeks are getting red. “What are ya doin’ up?” The moment he's close enough, you let go of the wall and hold on to him instead.

But Daryl acts weird, as if he didn't want to touch you. It makes you feel akward since you grew used to his touch. “What?” You ask, pulling away just enough to look down at your body, trying to see if there's anything in you that might have caused this reaction.

“Where are the rest of yer clothes?” He asks, trying to push you back into the room.

“This is what I usually wear.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take in the tank top and one of the lycra shorts Carol got you. It reaches about two inches above your wound, which means it barely covers your thighs. It never bothered you. Well, only when it's cold. “What's wrong with it?”

“Nothin’, nothin’.” He gives Carol an odd look before holding you again, his hands barely touching your sides. “Let's get ya back to bed.”

“No. I wanna go downstairs. I'm tired of being in the room.” You beg him, trying to resist as he pushes you back. “Please?”

“Put on somethin’ to cover up yer... Yer body. In case someone comes in.”

“I'll grab the blanket.” When you're about to move to get it, Daryl's moves first, taking the blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders, closing it on the front. He then picks you up, as he usually does to move you around, carrying you downstairs and carefully laying you down on the couch.

You quickly move into a sitting position as he settles down beside you. “Ya want anythin’?”

“I'm thirsty.” You don't want to keep asking people to get things. You want to go there and get them yourself.

“I'll get you some water,” Carol answers before Daryl can stand up.

She soon comes with your glass, and you drink half of it before handing over to Daryl, who puts it on the coffee table. Then, you move the blanket around, so it won't be a barrier as you lean on Daryl. But he flinches, seemingly uncomfortable. The way he moves away hurts you a little, and you sit up straight again, looking at him. “What is it, Daryl?” You ask, suddenly feeling odd, pulling the blanket so it'll cover your shoulders. “I just took a bath, I'm not dirty.” Your mind tries to find any other reason for Daryl to act like this.

“I know. Ya smell good, I jus’...” He moves a little, clearly nervous. “Yer using next to nothin’ and I don't wanna make ya feel uncomfortable.”

“I'm not feeling uncomfortable.” Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to understand what's the difference. You've been using this style of clothing since you got here. Denise told you not to wear anything that might squeeze the wound on your thigh, and Daryl has been sleeping on the same bed as you. Why is it different now? Then it clicks. He never really knew what was under the blankets you always have around you in bed. But you don't feel uncomfortable, not around Daryl. “I'm fine, truly.”

“Are ya?” He looks down at you after avoiding your gaze for a while. You wonder why he seems so embarrassed.

“Yeah.” Muttering, you give a quick glance at the kitchen, to make sure Carol isn't looking. Sometimes, she stands there, as if studying your interactions with Daryl, you're not sure why. You have the suspicion that she's actually studying his interaction with you. But she's not on your sight, probably at the sink or at the countertop making lunch. Turning your gaze at Daryl, you shrug your shoulders. “Can I?”

He breathes in deeply, and you see something snap in his eyes, like he's giving up trying to fight something. “C'mere, babygirl.”

You can't control the smile that comes to your lips as you lean on him again, carefully moving your legs up to the couch. “Daryl?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you call me babygirl?” You decide to ask, not because you don't like it, just because you really want to know.

He moves a little, restless again. There are a lot of things you still don't understand about Daryl, but you try to. “ ‘Cause yer young. And a girl.”

Doesn't make much sense, and it sounds like he just said the most obvious thing. “I'm not that young, Dixon.” It's weird how, all of a sudden, you don't want Daryl to see you as a kid. He does have to look after you, but it's just because your body is still broken... But you're getting better every day, and soon enough you'll be able to function like a normal person.

“Yer young compared to me.”

“You're not that old.”

“I am compared to ya.” He speaks fast as if he wants to shake this thought away.

Of the many things that have gone through your head since you spotted Daryl's blue eyes among the dead, age wasn't one of them. It's not like you haven't noticed the man is some, well, several years older than you, probably around two decades, but it was never important. You never thought this matter deserved attention. It doesn't change anything. “Uhm...” You mumble, an arm moving to hug his midsection.

“Shouldn't call ya that anyway.” He mutters, his chest vibrating under your head.

“I like it. I really do.” Daryl only calls you that when nobody else is around. When Carol or Denise are here, he always uses your name. And you like it. It's like a private thing, a secret.

Daryl only grunts in response, which makes you giggle. You both fall into a comfortable silence until Carol comes to the living room, sitting on the coffee and getting your attention.

“(Y/N), Maggie and Glenn got back from a run yesterday. They brought a wheelchair and I was thinking that maybe you could use it to take a tour around the neighborhood.” She says, glancing at Daryl and then at you. Walking it's still hard for your leg, and Denise still doesn't think you should try to. The stitches ripped twice after the first incident, and you're being extra careful now.

“I don't know.” The thought of going out there, where people will see you... You haven't stopped to think about it. Actually, you've been more comfortable with being inside the house.

“I'll be with ya. If ya feel like yer ready for it.” Daryl says, and it gives you just a little bit of courage.

“Do you think I should?”

“The group wants to meet you.” Carol answers. “They're curious about the girl Daryl cuddles with.” Her comment makes Daryl swift in his seat again, letting out a displeased grunt. “You will like them when you give it a chance. There's also Judith. That one will steal your heart in half a second.”

“Who's Judith?” You ask her.

“Rick's daughter,” Daryl says. “Lil’ Ass Kicker, three years of drivin’ Rick insane.”

“You have kids here?” You haven't seen kids since the world broke. Part of you thought it was better that way. Bringing a kid into the world as it is now is crazy. But here... Alexandria seems like a safe place. It seems like a good place to be if you want kids.

“A few, yes.” Carol states. “So? Can I have Maggie bring the wheelchair?”

Lifting your head a little, you give Daryl a glance. “It's yer call to make. Ya wanna go or not?”

“Only if I can meet Judith.”

“Alright then.” Carol stands up, clearly happy. “I'll get the chair and you put some clothes on because if you go out like that Daryl will certainly have a heart attack.”

“I would never go out like that.” You mutter, wondering what's the big deal with your clothes.

So you put on these loose sweatpants and a long-sleeved light blue shirt since the wind coming from your window is a bit cold. You're anxious when Daryl puts you in the chair, already outside. You can't help but look at the sides, suddenly aware of every human being here who's not Daryl.

“Ready?” He asks, and you almost say no. But you force yourself to nod, and he starts pushing the wheelchair.

You're shaking a little, hands clenched into fists. Maybe this was a bad idea, and everything you want is to get back to your bedroom, where nobody knows about your existence, where there's just you and Daryl and nothing else. People have been hurting you for too long, you don't think you can deal with them anymore.

“Ya ok down there?” Daryl's voice snaps you out, and you nod again. “Let's meet Maggie. She's the one who found ya this chair.” Daryl takes you near the walls that surround the city, tall and constantly under watch. He calls and the woman some feet away turns around. She's been talking to a small group of people, who also turn to look at you.

“Daryl.” She greets, leaving the others and walking over you. “And I believe this is (Y/N). I'm Maggie.” She reaches out her hand and you freeze, just looking at it. This is ridiculous. You shouldn't be out here. “Oh, it's alright.” Maggie retrieves her hand, giving you a small smile. “I've heard you've been through some tough times. I just hope you'll feel better now that you're here.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you nod, trying to force some words out. “T-thanks for the chair.” You push out, hoping it'll be enough.

“No need to thank me. I just thought it would help you start getting to know the community.”

“Maggie!” Someone calls, and she turns on her heels to check it out.

“That one over there, in the blue T-shirt is Gleen, my husband.” She says. “Nice guy, judging by the fact I'm married to him.” She looks at you again. “Well, I gotta go. I hope this is not the last time I'll see you, (Y/N). Have a nice day.” With that, she waves and goes back to where she was as Daryl pushes you away, taking a different turn.

“She's nice.” You tell Daryl when you're far enough not to be heard.

“She is. You'll like her if ya give her the chance.”

You mutter in response, bouncing your leg a little. This place is amazing. Beautiful. It reminds you of simpler times when the dead used to remain that way. But the wall around you is a constant reminder of the dangers that must be kept outside.

Daryl introduces you to some people. You're happy you managed to say ‘hi’ and shake some hands, despite flinching away from their touch too quickly. He's very patient, pushing your around the town, using the least crowded streets. But half an hour later you're getting too restless, excited to go back home.

“I think I want to go back now.” You say when you see two people walking your way.

“What about Judith?”

“Oh...” You completely forgot about her. “Can we go now? Then back home.”

“Judith is Rick's daughter. Which means he'll probably be there.” Daryl warns you, changing direction. “Ya think ya can handle that?”

“Then we should just go back home.” You suddenly don't want to do it anymore. It's way too much for today.

“Listen.” Daryl stops, walking around the chair and crouching before you. “Ya trust me, don't ya?”

“I thought we reached this point where you don't have to ask me that because you know the answer.” Of course you trust Daryl. You'd put your life in his hands without thinking twice. You've already done that, actually.

“I know Rick reminds ya of one of those assholes, but he ain't like them. He's been with us for years. I trust him and so can ya.” One of his hands comes to touch your knee, and it makes you relax a little. “But I'll take ya back if that's what ya need. Not gonna push ya.”

Taking a deep breath, you nod, looking down. “Can't you... Can't you bring her to the house?” You're not ready, not yet. “I'd feel better there. Even if–Even if I have to meet this Rick.”

“Of course, baby–” Daryl clears his throat, shaking his head.

What's wrong with him today? “Babygirl.” You decide to finish it for him, reaching out your hand to touch his face. But Daryl stands up abruptly the moment your fingers connect with his cheek.

“Let's go.” He's soon moving you again, not saying anything else.

It takes five minutes or so until you're back home, feeling relieved to have these walls around you again. Daryl leaves you in the living room with Carol as he goes to get Judith. He takes a while, but you hear Judith before Daryl swings the door open.

“See that lady over there?” He says to the beautiful toddler in his arms. It's such a sight, seeing Daryl holding Judith. “She's dying to meet ya.” As he speaks, Judith's eyes find you and she smiles.

“Hi!” She mumbles, waving a tiny hand at you.

You didn't think you'd ever see a kid again. “Hi, Judith.” Daryl brings her to the couch, putting her down beside you. “How are you, little ass-kicker?”

“You goin to play with me?” She happily asks, reaching out her hand, which you hold, giving a little shake.

“Sure.” You can't help but smile. A smile that doesn't fades. This child is the exact opposite of everything you suffered. She's innocent, kind, and pure. “There's nothing here to play with.”

“Rick's bringin’ some–” He's cut off by a knock on the door. “That's him. ‘M gonna let him come in, is that alright?”

Holding your breath, you nod. As Daryl goes to open the door, you keep looking at Judith, the smile disappearing. “(Y/N),” Daryl calls as you see the two men moving to the living room. “This is Rick, Judith's father.”

“Hi, daddy,” Judith exclaims.

Slowly, you raise your eyes, sinking a little into the couch, as if it could put more distance between you and that man. “Hi.” You whisper, not sure if he can hear you, so you say it again. “H-hi. I'm (Y/N).”

“It's nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Rick says, exchanging a glance with Daryl. “I brought these blocks Judith likes.” He slowly steps forward, and you finally notice the box he's holding. He leaves it on the couch between you and his daughter before stepping back. “And I want to apologize for our first meeting. I didn't know... Well, I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” The words are still getting caught in your throat. Rick does look like that man, but he isn't him. The beard is pretty much the same, but the eyes are different. More kind. But then again, some of them did seemed to be kind in the beginning. It didn't last long though.

Judith opens the box and starts taking all the colorful blocks out, throwing the empty box on the floor.

It's a weird feeling to do this. Playing with a kid, building houses and castles, imagining people living in them. The rest of the world goes away for a while, and you're surprised by the smiles that keep finding their way to your lips. Every time Judith says or does something, you can't help but be mesmerized. It makes you think that maybe, just maybe, sometime from now, you could have a kid of your own. You always wanted to be a mother, before the world came crashing down, but you haven't given it much thought about it after. It was useless anyway. There wasn't a place like this, safe, where you could fancy such possibilities...

Your eyes suddenly find Daryl, seated on the kitchen table talking to Rick. In the back of your mind, you wonder if Daryl ever thought about having kids too. He does seem to like Judith, and she likes him too. Like he's being called, he looks straight at you, and you sustain his stare for a while before Judith claims your attention.

Shaking your head lightly to push these thoughts away, something else comes. The way Daryl suddenly started acting weird. Earlier today on the couch, and when you touched his face. It doesn't matter how hard you try to understand him, you can't. You need to talk to him, to ask what's wrong.

Judith stays with you all day, only to be taken by her brother Carl when the night has already fallen. So you have dinner before going back upstairs, fixing the blankets around you, and waiting for Daryl. But after an hour, you wonder if he'll even come.

So you push all the blankets away, ignoring the cold that quickly creeps over your skin. By the time you reach the hall, you realize you don't know where Daryl's room is. Why didn't he come? He always does, you don't have to ask. Did he forget you? Is he mad or something? Using the walls to help you walk, you move down the hall, a low groan leaving your lips when a sharp pain spreads through your torso.

“What are ya doin’?” His voice comes from behind, so you stop, leaning against the wall. Daryl reaches you a couple of seconds later, and you're quick to notice how he holds both your arms, keeping a distance in between you. “Come. I'll help ya get back.”

“I'm alright.” You mutter as he easily picks you up again, carrying you back to bed.

“Ya still need to be careful.” He simply says, standing back up once you're comfortably lying down.

“Daryl, I need to talk to you.” Sitting back up, you decide to just say it, put the cards on the table.

“Ya need anythin’? I can get ya–”

“No, I... I just need to understand what's going on.” You didn't want to interrupt him, but you get the feeling he's trying to run from the conversation. “From this morning you've been acting weird, like... Like you're suddenly trying to avoid me...”

“Ain't tryin’ to avoid ya.” He shifts his weight from one leg to another, looking down.

“Yes, you are. Don't you...” Running a hand through your hair, you try to come up with the right words to describe something you don't know how to. “Don't you like it when I touch you? Don't you–”

“I'm goin’ on a run with Rick.” He bursts out, not allowing you to finish. “I'll be leavin’ tomorrow mornin’ an’ it'll take four or five days.”

He sounds mad, angry even... He told you he usually goes on runs, but he hasn't left since you got here. You never thought about this, having to deal with Daryl being... Somewhere else. “Daryl, why–”

“I gotta get my stuff ready.” He then turns around and walks away. “Have a good night.”

And he's gone. He's gone and the tears immediately start rolling down. You're lost, disoriented. A different pain makes pressure in your chest, crushing you, pushing you back into the bed. Something happened. You must have done something, even though you don't know what it was. Covering your mouth with one hand to hold the sobs that come, you wonder how are you supposed to do this.

How are you supposed to endure the night? How are you supposed to be without him? You're not ready yet. What if he doesn't come back? What if he gets hurt? What if he got tired of taking care of you day after day? What if he doesn't want you? Your touch, your hugs, you.

He's tired of you. This fragile, broken thing you are. He saved you, yes, but it doesn't mean he cares for you. Maybe you misread things, and your feelings blinded you. And maybe he doesn't feel anything for you. Only pity.

×

@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @twdeadfanfic @soraitmnt @winchester-angel @bvbwestfall @shawtygonemad @cameronsails @pulplorrd

[ptersparkers]

her brother’s girlfriend

summary: sarah cameron happens to be in love with her brother’s girlfriend.

warnings: none, i think? and typos, probably. 

notes: someone requested this and i was like.....ok yes this is a very interesting concept! i’m also really glad you guys want more sarah content because i love her. also in my head the pogues are 17-18 because i cANNOT deal with 15 year olds being as ripped as rudy and chase bye

i’m aware sarah’s mom being this nice is not canon but it is in my universe ok

add yourself to my taglist! 

Sarah Cameron was laying on her stomach with her phone in her hand when she heard your laugh from the hallway outside of her room. She spent the morning trying to combat the heat of the North Carolina sun and found a spot in her room situated in front of her window on the second floor that provided a draft of wind. She let her eyes close for a brief second, enjoying the spot with her arm propped up against the cold side of the newly turned pillow. 

She heard your voice from outside of her door in the long hallway. Your laugh had echoed through her mind and she snapped her eyes open, her head looking at the white door that was the only barrier between you and her. She could hear her brother’s voice accompanied by an equally loud laugh and Sarah couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the thought of her brother being the one to make you laugh. 

There was a knock on your door that pulled Sarah out of her thoughts. 

“Come in,” she said awkwardly, quickly turning her phone on to look busy. You opened the door and she looked at you and saw tan lines and a bathing suit that made her mouth water. 

“Hi,” you said softly, smiling at her. You had one hand on her doorknob and had stepped in only far enough to peek inside her bedroom. “Do you have that shirt I gave you last week?” Sarah snapped out of her thoughts

“Oh, yeah! I washed it last night, hope you don’t mind. I know you said it didn’t matter but Kie pushed me into the river,” Sarah said, fetching the black shirt that had been fitting perfectly folded on her nightstand. She handed it to you and you tilted your head, keeping that grin on your face. 

“You’re an angel,” you said dramatically. “Well I hope Kiara pushing you into the river was worth it.” 

Sarah laughed shyly. “We were just messing around and she pushed me a little too hard. I think someone has a video of it.”

“You’ll have to send it to me,” you said. There was a brief pause when you heard Rafe calling your name. “Anyway, I’ll probably be swinging by later tonight for dinner. Your mom invited me this morning and she said something about salmon?”

“She’s excited about cooking the salmon she got off of the mainland,” Sarah explained. She leaned on the wall next to you and crossed her arms lazily across her chest. “I think she bought a little too much but I’m happy that you’re coming over.”

“Babe?” Sarah heard Rafe call from out of her bedroom. You had turned around and nodded towards him. 

“I’ll see you later,” Sarah said, her lips forming a thin line. You winked and bade her a goodbye and Sarah closed her door, sighing in frustration. 

Her infatuation with you started when you had come home from college last summer. It was your first year gone and she hadn’t paid much attention to you from various parties on Figure Eight and around the island until she had seen you in her living room, sitting on the living room couch on the seat closest to the front door. You had stood up and offered your hand for her to shake, introducing yourself as Rafe’s girlfriend. It was odd that she had never heard of you before nor had she ever seen you, but her thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when Rafe had sauntered downstairs and pressed a kiss to your lips. 

It turns out you were a Kook but had never bothered to attend events thrown by the rich families until you had dated Rafe. She began to see you more often and had taken up a liking to striking up a conversation with you whenever Rafe wasn’t by your side. You had the best sense of humor and fashion sense, she decided. You didn’t give a shit about your status on some small island that you’d eventually leave and Sarah decided she’d be the same way. She accredits your personality rubbing off on her for being more open to becoming friends with Kiara again, and subsequently, the Pogues. 

When she asked you about your opinions on The Cut and everyone who lived there, all you did was shrug. At this time, she had been dating Topper for a few months and her opinions were clouded by his constant degrading comments about the people who lived on The Cut and she felt as if she couldn’t express a differing opinion without hearing the end of it. 

“I don’t care about titles,” you said, taking a sip of the drink you were fostering. “People are people and they never asked to be born with or without something they can’t control.” 

“But you’re a Kook,” Sarah retorted.

“I guess,” you said. “But I never bothered to come to these things before dating Rafe.” 

That much, Sarah knew, was true. She also had you to thank when it came to Rafe’s relationship with her friends; you had chewed him out in front of John B. and JJ when he had made a degrading comment about the Pogue lifestyle and didn’t care that you were speaking your mind to your boyfriend. All Sarah could remember was Rafe’s dumbfounded face and his silent nod, looking between the Pogues and you before walking away as you had raised your eyebrow, challenging him to change your mind. 

Sarah could also remember JJ’s slow clap when you had followed Rafe out of The Cut and John B’s starry eyes. It was no secret that both boys had grown a small infatuation with a Kook Princess who had a mouth on her and used it for good. Ever since that afternoon, Rafe hadn’t dared say anything to the Pogues when he was on The Cut. 

That was the first time Sarah had felt a strange feeling in the bottom of her stomach. It was realizing that you didn’t just control Rafe, but you were able to get through to him and make him listen to your voice. 

And Sarah swore that she’d grow to have a spine like you did.

When the sky grew dark, Sarah heard your car park in front of her house and saw dressed in a linen blouse with a few buttons popped open, black slacks, and comfortable oxfords. You looked more mature than the Kooks on the island and her heart was racing, beating against her chest. Before Sarah walked downstairs, she had slipped on a pair of white sneakers and buttoned her plaid tapered pants, looking in the mirror as she put on a second coat of lip gloss. 

As she walked out the door, she groaned in frustration and closed it, looking at herself with dissatisfaction. The baby yellow shirt she wore didn’t make her happy with her outfit and she wanted to change it in hopes of impressing you with her fashion sense. Sarah pulled out a large white button down and settled for that, mimicking your outfit but popping open two buttons and tucking it into her pants. 

“Ward couldn’t be here tonight,” her mother said when Sarah made her downstairs. “He says hello.”

“That’s okay,” you said with a smile. “I know I’ll see him some time soon.” You saw Sarah standing her mother and motioned for her to come closer to which she followed. Sarah fixed her hair anxiously and stood beside the older woman, waving at you.

“Hey,” you said coolly. “Long time no see.” She could hear you teasing her in your voice. 

“I’ve been bored since you left,” she said, scrunching her nose. 

“Why don’t you two hang out for a bit? Rafe called me earlier and said he’d be a little late because he has a flat tire.”

“I hope he’s okay,” Sarah said sympathetically. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” her mother said, waving her off. “Anyway, I’m going to go back to the kitchen and finish preparing dinner. Why don’t you two go up to Sarah’s room and hang out for a bit? I’ll call you down when the food’s ready.”

You nodded and said your thanks and Sarah led you to her room, trying to keep the blush on her cheeks from surfacing. Her room was much tidier now; she had taken the liberty to clean it up after you left when she realized she had a pile of dirty clothing in the corner of her room and some books sprawled out across her floor. They were all in their place now. Sarah made sure to fix her bed just in case you were in her room again and she thanked herself for not being lazy earlier.

“Your room’s so cute,” you said, looking at the pictures on her wall and nightstand. “It’s so...you.”

“Thanks,” she said, sitting awkwardly on the edge of her bed, not knowing what to do other than stare at you while you looked around her room. “I try to make this space feel like home as much as possible.”

“That’s how I feel,” you said. “I have a dorm back in college and I brought some stuff that reminded me of the island. I didn’t want to feel like I was sleeping in a stranger’s bed.”

“I thought your parents wanted you to stay in an apartment,” Sarah said, turning her head. 

You laughed. “Nah, I wanted the college experience. My roommate was a girl named Alex. Cool chick. She moved from South Korea halfway through high school and decided to stay in America for college.” 

“College sounds much better than this.”

“It is,” you said without a beat. “I like the independence and the freedom to study what I want to study. The college parties are great but I think it’s a little too much for me.”

“You don’t go?”

You shook your head. “Not really. I’m more of a wine and dine type of girl.” 

“Sometimes I feel like I only go to parties because all of my friends are,” Sarah confessed. You stopped sifting through her clothing and looked at her. 

“You don’t have that many opportunities here,” you said. “I mean, I never really went to parties anyway but I realized that when I left for college. Do what you want, Sarah. Sit at home and eat some popcorn or go out and get drunk. As long as it makes you happy.” 

Sarah sat there, dumbfounded as you resumed looking at her closet. She hadn’t thought about how her voice was suppressed by Topper, her parents, Rafe, and the other Pogues. Sarah felt as if she had tried so hard being two different people when she was with the Pogues or the Kooks and, if she was admitting it, Sarah was getting tired of pleasing two different groups of people.

“You have cute clothes,” you said, pulling out a blouse to look at. “I’d raid your closet if you let me.”

“You can,” Sarah said too quickly. “Borrow clothes, I mean.” 

“I mean, it’s only fair if I let you borrow my clothes.” 

Sarah laughed. “Oh! I forgot, Kie texted me the video of when I fell into the river.”

You put the hanger back in her closet and sat next to Sarah while she looked for her message chain with Kiara. She turned up her volume and played the video. While you were watching at the small screen, Sarah couldn’t help but be hyper aware about your thigh pressed against hers and your hair tickling the side of her face. Sarah had cursed herself silently, remembering that she hadn’t done much to her hair other than wash and dry it. 

“That was hilarious,” you said with a laugh. “But yeah, maybe it was a good thing that you washed my shirt.” 

“I don’t know what to do with my hair,” Sarah said abruptly, suddenly a little self conscious about her appearance. “I always wear it down or in a ponytail.” 

You stood up and Sarah’s eyes followed you. You walked to her makeup desk with a large mirror and sifted through her products, taking a few items and bringing it to her bed. 

“I like this spray,” you said, praying the liquid onto her roots. “It’s good for beach waves and to contain frizz. You just need a little bit.” If Sarah was being honest, she enjoyed your fingers playing and tugging on her hair. “You could just, um,” you said, not knowing how to explain it. You ran your fingers through her hair just enough to push it all to the back and so that the front of her hair was voluminous and elegant. You grabbed her yellow hand held mirror and gave it to her.

“I look like you,” Sarah said with a small smile. 

“I also like to put my hair half up and half down or in a bun with a few strands framing my face. But it’s all about decorating your hair with clips if you’re lazy.”

“I’m always lazy.” 

You looked at Sarah with a smile and she swore that moment had lasted for a lifetime. It wasn’t until her mother knocked on your door and opened it that pulled her out of her thoughts and brought her back to reality. 

“Food’s ready! Sarah, you look gorgeous,” she said, taking note of her hair that had changed since the last time she saw her mother. 

“Thanks, mom,” she said sheepishly. “Give us a second to clean up and we’ll be downstairs.”

Sarah moved hastily and tried not to trip over her own two feet when she put the hair products back in their place. She could feel you watching her and chose not to meet your gaze when she walked past you to head downstairs. 

Her dining room was split into two - the room with a large table that was always decorated minimally and a smaller table meant for intimate moments, like this one. There were four plates set on the table and you sat in front of her mother. Sarah had to consciously make the choice to sit next to her mom, forgetting that Rafe was coming over until she saw the fourth plate. 

“This looks great, Mrs. Cameron,” you said as she began to serve you a piece of the salmon. “It smells fantastic.”

“I know your mother loves to cook and I’ve gotten a few tips over the years. I have her to thank, really.” 

As the conversation between you and her mother continued, Sarah couldn’t help but think how you were the perfect girl to bring home. Her mother loved you and begged for Rafe to bring you over more often when you were home from college. Her father thought you were a model girlfriend, though Sarah was sure you played the tamer version of yourself around him. You were everything she could’ve asked for and she couldn’t help but feel happy at the thought of you staying in her life for the long run. 

“I’m home,” Sarah heard Rafe say as he approached the table. She watched as you turned around and smiled while Rafe leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. She shifted in her seat awkwardly and felt a burst of jealousy within her. Sarah tried not to think about you for the rest of the dinner but that was hard to do whenever she saw Rafe kiss the back of your hand. 

It was going to be a long night. 

***

“Yo, Cameron,” JJ yelled as Sarah turned around. She was in the midst of grabbing a water bottle when she heard the blond call her name. “How’s Y/N doing?”

“Fine,” she called back, walking back to the group. “She’s going back to school next week so she’s spending time with Rafe before going back.”

“Haven’t seen her in a while,” JJ replied. “Actually since summer when she talked Rafe’s ear off.” Sarah smiled at the memory. 

“They spent the weekend together and they’re coming back this afternoon, I think.”

“Spending the weekend together, huh?” JJ asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. Sarah gagged internally, trying not to think about you and Rafe intimately. Instead, Sarah made a disgusted expression to which JJ laughed. 

“Are we talking about Y/N?” John B. asked when he climbed onto the boat. 

“She’s going back to school next week,” Sarah explained once again. 

“Dang, wish we could hang out again but I guess I wouldn’t want to be caught with high schoolers if I’m in college.” 

Sarah knew John B. didn’t mean anything bad by his comment, but she felt insecure. Did you hang out with her because you were Rafe’s little sister? Did you pity her for hanging out with the Pogues, who were around Sarah’s age? 

“Where are Pope and Kie?” Sarah asked. 

“Bringing food from her house,” John B. explained. “They’ll be here in twenty.” 

“God, I’m starving.” 

“Isn’t that Y/N?” JJ asked, pointing afar. Sarah turned and took off her sunglasses and put in on her head, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to identify you. But it didn’t take that much effort. She’d recognize you anywhere. Sarah pulled her phone from her back pocket and texted you to come say hello, hoping you’d hear her silent plea. The trio watched as you checked your phone and stopped abruptly, changing your direction and walking towards the boat. 

“I can’t believe she’s actually coming here,” JJ said, laughing to himself. He sat with his hands behind his head. 

“You act like she’s some celebrity,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes. 

“She kinda is. No one bats and eye when she walks The Cut or Figure Eight,” JJ said, shrugging. “Plus, John B. gets flustered whenever she’s around and that never happens.” 

Sarah didn’t have time to process what JJ had said because you approached the docked boat, standing on the wooden floor. Sarah looked at you - you wore an orange bikini that highlighted your tan nicely and carried a towel. She did a double take behind her sunglasses, looking at your extremely short shorts and gulped when you looked at her. 

“Mind if I join?”

“N-Not at all,” she said, stepping aside for you to climb in. 

Sarah could see John B’s cheeks turn a shade of pink when you winked at both boys who were sitting next to one another. JJ sat up straighter and John B. stood up, offering you a bottle of water or some sunscreen that he had remembered to bring. She watched as you turned around to place your towel on the boat and as the two teenage boys watched as your shorts rode up your thighs, leaving their mouthes slightly ajar. She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. 

“Sarah, come sit next to me,” you said, pulling her out of her daydreams. The towel was big enough for two people to sit on and she tried not to stutter and trip over herself. “So tell me, boys, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?”

“Oh, you know,” said JJ, “just messing around and trying not to fight your boyfriend.”

“He hasn’t been bothering us,” John B. cut in, shoving JJ. 

“Good,” you said, leaning back on your elbows. 

“I guess nothing’s been that exciting around here,” said John B. “Just trying to pass time before summer comes.” 

“I can’t wait to relax again,” you said, sighing. “Midterms kicked my ass and spring break is almost over, so it’s back to stressing out again.” 

“Look at you, college girl,” JJ teased. 

If there was one thing Sarah loved about you, it was your ability to read people past first impressions. JJ had always been an interesting case for you because you could tell he was a rambunctious soul that cared deeply for his friends and used humor as a coping mechanism. You didn’t know what that was, nor did you try to pry, but there was always an unspoken support you had for JJ. You had confided in Sarah once in the previous year about if JJ was okay and had asked her all these questions that, if she didn’t know any better, would make her assume you had a thing for him. But you were just aware of people, especially the ones who put other people first. 

“You’d do well in college,” you said, looking at JJ. 

“I have no brain cells,” he said, laughing at his own joke. 

You shrugged. “I just think you’re introspective and have a lot to say. JJ didn’t say anything. Sarah could tell he was flustered and couldn’t come up with a coherent response, but you didn’t pay any mind and started a new conversation. 

Sarah thought you were so effortlessly cool. You had a “go with the flow” personality but knew when it was time to be mature. You were everything she wanted to be - never caring about what others said about you and doing whatever you wanted if it made you happy. You invested in your future and Sarah wanted to do the same. 

“Sarah?” you asked, nudging her side. 

“Huh?” she said, looking at you. 

You chuckled. “I asked if you wanted to come back to your house with me. I’m meeting Rafe later on tonight and I could give you a ride back home.” 

“Oh,” Sarah said, clearing her voice. “No, that’s okay. I’m gonna be hanging out with John B. and JJ until later tonight.”

“Suit yourself,” you said as you stood up. “Mind bringing the towel on your way back?” 

Sarah shook your head. “Not at all.” 

“Thanks,” you said as you put your sunglasses back on. “See you later, boys!” You waved goodbye and the trio watched you walk away until you disappeared among a small crowd. 

“Sarah,” John B. said softly. Her attention turned to the tan boy who stood with a soft expression on his face. 

“What?” she asked. 

“You like her,” JJ said with a smirk from where he sat. 

“N-No I don’t,” Sarah said. “She’s dating my brother.”

“You can still like who he’s dating.” Sarah was quiet. 

“We don’t love you any less,” John B. said. Quite frankly, Sarah hadn’t given any thought to her sexuality or what to label it. She just knew she liked you. 

“But seriously,” JJ said, pushing himself up from his spot. “Y/N or not, you know we love you, right?” 

Sarah felt like a weight was taken off of her shoulders. There was the fear of people knowing she liked her brother’s girlfriend, but also the fear that people knew she had romantic feelings towards girls. She hadn’t thought about how her friends would take to that other than knowing that you were a little older than the rest of them. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said softly, a tear slipping from her eye. John B. didn’t miss a beat and pulled her into his chest where she left a few tears splash her already rosy cheeks. 

***

It was the night before you were leaving to go back to school after spring break and you had stopped by her house to spend a few hours with her family and say goodbye before going back to your house. Sarah was the only person in the house when you knocked on the door, but you were happy to stick around for a little while.

“It’ll be weird when you go home,” Sarah admitted. “It’s quiet when you’re gone.” 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you said, mocking her pout. “It’s only two months. Plus, you can always FaceTime me.”

“I know,” she said, taking step towards you. “It’s just not the same.”

“I think you’re too mature to still be on this island,” you said. “You’ve got this itch for real life and the Outer Banks isn’t giving you any of that.” 

“It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth.” 

“You’re like me,” you said, sighing. “There’s a lot of things out there for you but you just have to take the first step.” 

Sarah was quiet. All she could do was stare at you, perfectly imperfect. You had opted to forego makeup and wore moisturizer and perfume that Sarah could recognize easily. Your wore distressed jeans, white sneakers, and a random shirt you had found that wasn’t in the laundry and left your hair flow behind you without real thought about how you looked. It was nice to see someone who lived on Figure Eight that didn’t care about how they appeared to other people living on this side of the island. 

“What are you thinking?” you asked. Sarah realized she hadn’t said anything. 

“Nothing,” she said quickly. 

“Your pretty head was somewhere else for a minute,” you teased. You walked forward and ran your hands through her hair before resting them on her neck. Sarah gulped, debating on whether or not she should keep her feelings to herself or not. 

“You mean a lot to me,” she began. “You, uh, you make Rafe really happy and that makes me really happy.” It took a moment, but you smiled softly at the blonde in front of you. Sarah relished in the feeling of your thumbs stroking her cheeks and waited for you to reply. 

“You’re special, Sarah Cameron. You’ll be just fine.” 

You leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek but it was dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. Sarah closed her eyes when you let your lips linger for a brief moment before pulling yourself away and waving goodbye, heading outside. 

Sarah Cameron had looked at the space you had occupied and watched the ghost you left behind disappear into her memory. She didn’t know much, but she knew you believed in her. And that was enough. 

***

i thrive off of feedback and commentary so pls feed my ego 

***

taglist: 

@princessdolan​ @ashyramblings-ficrecs​ @fanficscuziranout​ @caswinchester2000​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @karleeluv​ @briannarto @pogue-h​ @hyluas @angelic-ashleyaileen @mfmaddyperez. 

^ tumblr isn’t letting me @ certain urls and that makes me #frustrated.

[anise05]

Today I wrote my lesson for my university. The test was hard, but I believe that I passed it. I don't know the grade yet, but I will learn it soon enough!! After I saw chapter 6, this scene came to my mind. I hope you like it! For once again, Warning: Grammatical Errors, maybe.

Inside the farm, the members of the Horseback Riding club were taking care of the horses. Anise and Sebek took their horses to give them water. But the animals, suddenly, started to move very abruptly and raised their frond legs. Anise used her Shadow magic to control the horses' shadows and tame them.

"The horses are too anxious today" they heard Riddle say

"Maybe a storm is coming" Silver said "They are very sensitive to the weather"

The two Diasomnia first-years heard a loud noise and left the stable quickly, approaching their classmates.

"Silver! Riddle-senpai!" Sebek shouted "Are you alright?"

"We are fine" Silver said "What about the others?"

"Everyone, including the horses are fine" Sebek said "What was that noise?"

"It was like someone tried to break open the barrier and..."

"Look! What is that?" Anise shouted

Some people, with mysterious armors appeared from the sky and landed outside the farm.

"I don't know. I have never saw their uniforms before"

"We found the experiment A" one of them said

"Whoever they are, they don't seem friendly to me" Silver said

"Did anyone gave you the permission to enter the facility?" Riddle asked "As I was expected. This is a serious law violation! As the Heartlabyul dorm leader, I allow all the dorm students to attack the intruders with magic!"

"We are asking the permission to attack" one of the mysterious men said

"Prepared yourselves!" Riddle shouted

"Understood!"

Anise used her Shadow magic to control they mysterious men's own shadows. The shadows started to wrap around their own bodies, trapping them.

"I got them!" she said to her classmates "Now you can..."

She didn't manage to complete her phrase, when they got out of their Shadow Prison and attached her with their own magic. Anise fell with her back on the grass.

"Anise!" Sebek shouted

"Why you....?!" Silver said and attached them with his own magic.

Anise stood up and raised her hand to the men. She used the same spell that she used to the horses, to make their bodies paralyze, through their shadows.

"My... My power has no affect on them"

"Neither mine" Sebek and Silver said the same time. "Probably they are wearing armors, which protects them from the magic"

They hit Riddle with electricity and the dorm leader fell to the grass"

"Riddle-senpai!" the first-years shouted

"I... I can't move...." he started screaming and fire appeared around them "You have some nerve to come here and make ME kneel in front of you!"

Once the fire touched their armor, it disappeared. They used electricity again and Riddle felk unconscious to the grass.

"We got the Subject A. It's time to leave" one of them said and took Riddle

"Wait!" Sebek shouted "Where are you taking him!"

They didn't answer. They just flew away. Silver's expression became more furious and pointed to the sky

"Look! Our campus is been surrender by people who got Riddle, just now!"

"If they were targeting Riddle" Sebek said "who is a dorm leader, that means...."

"Oh no" Anise whispered "Master Malleus"

"We have to go back to Diasomnia as fast as possible"

Anise stood with her back to the sun and raised her hand. Her shadow was in front of her and it seemed like it opened a gate, which looked like a black lake on the grass

"Get in!"

"Are you... Are you sure about that?" Sebek asked

"After you. Lightning prince" Silver said and kicked Sebek in the Shadow Lake. The two adopted siblings followed him inside the portal and they were at Diasomnia's main corridor.

Katelyn and Ruggie entered in the greenhouse.

"Leona-san, we know that you are here" Ruggie said

"Even if I am a little cat, I can sense you here. So, stop hiding!"

"I know you didn't hand your report... again. Mr. Trein is angry and he wants to talk to you. For the sake of our lives, just follow us, this time"

The glass of the greenhouse broke and sharp pieces started to fall.

"Watch out!" Ruggie pushed Katelyn back and the glasses felt between and on them

"The... The glass" Kat whispered and she lowered her orange ears

"It broke!" once the glasses touched something, they disappeared

"Ruggie, are you OK?"

"Yes, I am fine. We... We aren't injured?"

"The glasses didn't hurt us. There must be a spell which made them disappear once they come in contract with something" Kat said and approached him

"I did!" they heard Leona's voice "You are a second-year student. You should learn to cast out a spell to protect yourself and your fellows" he turned and looked Kat, who lowered her ears again

The mysterious men with the uniforms appeared and approached them.

"We found Subject B. Start the operation now"

"Who are they?" Ruggie asked and Kat sniffed to their direction

"Their scent is weird"

"And unpleasant" the hyena said

"This logo...." Leona said

"They got some nerve to come to fight you. I will draw their attention, as you and Kat will attack them" Ruggie said

"Leona-senpai, I am asking the permission to attack" the cat said, putting out her claws

"No. I will surrender" Liona said and raised his hands

"You what??!" Ruggie and Kat said in the same time

"Please hand out all the magic weapons that you have"

"Here. It's my magic pen, take it" Leona said and threw it to the ground

"Em... Leona-senpai... What are you doing?" Kat whispered

"Seriously! We would take them down easily!"

"They are hiding a magic proof plate under their vest" Leona whispered

"Now I understand what is that weird smell" Kat said

"Both of you. Don't do anything stupid"

"W... Wait.. Isn't that the material used to the uniforms of executive officers?"

"You seem to know much about them, Ruggie. Have you been caught by them before?" Leona asked with a smirk

"Oh, well..." Ruggie scratched the back of his head, blushing by shame "It was a long time ago..."

"Executive?" Kat asked "You don't mean..."

"It's not time to joke around" Ruggie said "We have to do something. We are in dangerous situation"

"I saw this logo before" Leona said "They are the watchers"

"Watchers? I think that Chenya has said something about them in the past" Kat said, thinking

"Just listen to me. Don't do anything. Just stay back and don't try anything that would seem as a resistance"

"The weapon has been analysed. It is the real weapon of Night Raven College. Subject B, please, come with us"

"Just be careful of me. I might get sick if you fly with high speed" he smirked

"Did he just...?" Kat whispered

"Are you serious, Leona-san?"

"Ruggie, please take care of Savanaclaw, until I am back. Katelyn, go back to Heartlabyul and check your classmates. Good luck... Even thought, I am not sure if I come back again"

"Don't say things like these, right now! Leona-senpai!"

The mysterious men took Leona and flew away

"W-Wait! Leona-san!" Ruggie shouted

"He is gone. I have to go and check my dorm" Kat said "We have to go and find our classmates, Ruggie-senpai" and they left the greenhouse.

*sobs* this just made me cry😭😭

I remembered their kidnapping scenes again😭😭 I thought I've moved on from it but I guess I didn't😥

This is a beautiful angst scenario😭😭💕💕 thanks for writing this 💕💕and for making me cry😭

Also I believe that you did great in your lesson❤