#and we can’t do almost anything to help her!

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hold My Hand, Part 2

TFW 2.0 & Winchester!sister

Requested by @casmustdiee and Anonymous

Synopsis: Jack tries to get you used to being back in the bunker, but things keep going wrong.

Warnings: angst, some torture, continuity errors, only half proofread

A/N: guys I’m still alive!

“You want anything to eat?”

You had been slowly emerging more and more from within yourself after the boys had brought you back from Asmodeus. Still, you rejected Dean’s offer of food with a tiny shake of your head.

“I’ll take a sandwich,” Jack piped up, and Dean was about to tell him to make his own sandwich when Jack gave him a hard stare. Dean had no clue what the look meant, but given that Jack had been the one to get you out of your room and talking, Dean had no choice but to trust that the kid knew what he was doing around you. So Dean made the sandwich, and he watched as Jack cut it in half, eating one half before very deliberately pushing the plate away—towards you—as if he didn’t want it anymore.

Dean caught on right away.

“What, you’re just gonna let that go to waste?” Dean asked.

Jack shrugged. “You can have it.”

Dean shook his head. “Your taste in sandwiches is crap, you and Y/N are the only ones I know that actually consider peanut butter and banana a delicacy.”

“They’re great, right Y/N?” Jack asked, earning a nod from you.

“Whatever.” Dean through his hands up. “I’m gonna make me a real sandwich.” He purposefully turned his back to you, not wanting you to feel stared at.

“I’m gonna go find Sam,” Jack said. “He might need help with research.” He hopped off his chair and left the room, leaving you almost alone with your half a sandwich.

By the time Dean had finished making his food and turned around, Jack’s sandwich was completely gone, and you looked a little brighter than you had a minute ago.

…

It was Jack’s turn to need help adjusting, and you were there every step of the way—or at least you tried to be. It was hard, since you were also trying to make sure Sam was ok after Michael disappeared, taking Dean with him.

“I thought you were training with Bobby,” you said when Jack all but stumbled into the kitchen.

“I was,” he huffed. “I just…I can’t seem to get it right. It was all so much easier with my powers.” Jack shook his head. “I just feel useless.”

“I know what you mean.” You swallowed.

“What?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not useless.”

“Lately I am.” When Jack continued to stare at you with that questioning gaze, you seemed to freeze up, unable to finish your thought.

Jack stepped closer to you, taking your hand in his own and giving you a bright smile.

“You’re not useless,” he said again.

You seemed to draw strength from his hand in yours.

“Dean’s always been there for me,” you began. “Always. For anything I’ve ever needed. And now…now he’s being dragged around by some archangel, and I feel like I can’t do anything to help him.”

“It doesn’t just fall on you,” Jack said. “We’re all going to find him. I just know it.”

…

“He’s gonna be ok, right?”

Your brothers couldn’t even look at you as you watched Rowena pack up her bag. You’d finally gotten Dean back, only for it to seem like you were now losing Jack.

“There’s nothing I can do.” Rowena glanced at you for a second before turning away. “I’m sorry.”

“But—but we have to do something—“ you started to follow Rowena as she turned to the door, but Sam stepped in your way. “We can’t let Jack die!” You tried to move around Sam, but he grabbed hold of your arms.

“I’ll talk to Rowena. I think you should stay with Jack,” he said.

A fit of coughing from Jack caught your attention, and you relented, going quickly to his side.

“You’re gonna be ok,” you promised. “We’re gonna fix you.”

Jack smiled at you and squeezed your hand, but he didn’t speak.

Dean followed Sam outside, unable to bear the scene any longer.

…

They couldn’t get you to leave Jack’s side. He’d been dead for hours, but you still wouldn’t leave.

Dean had seen you like this before—you’d been the exact same way when you were only three years old, and Sam had died for the first time.

Sam had seen it too, only a few short years ago, when Dean had died. He’d had to all but drag you away from the body.

“Hey, kid,” Dean began. You didn’t even look at him. “Kid, maybe you should—“

“I’m not leaving him alone.” Your voice was firm, and Dean noticed that your grip on Jack’s cold hand tightened. “He doesn’t like to be alone. I’m not leaving him alone.”

“Sweetheart—“

“Why couldn’t I—“ your voice caught. “Why couldn’t I save him? He needed me, and I couldn’t save him.”

Dean swallowed. “You…we did the best we could, kid.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” You finally tore your gaze away from your dead friend, and Dean’s heart broke all over again at the look in your eyes. “Jack saved me, and I let him die.”

“Hey.” Dean shook his head. “This is not your—“

“Dean.” Cas stepped into the room. “Sam just left. I don’t know why, but—“

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet. “We need to find him.”

He left with Cas on his heels. You could hear Dean arguing with him the whole way out of the bunker, but you still didn’t move.

“Jack—“ you took a deep breath, squeezing Jack’s hand and wishing he would squeeze back. “Jack, I just…I miss you. And I’m so sorry, and…and I just want you to come back, ok?

“I just want you to come back.”

…

You got your wish, even if it wasn’t in the way you expected. Jack was back, but he didn’t dare use his power at the risk of losing his soul.

You didn’t care. Power or no, Jack was your best friend. But things never stayed good for long. You guys still had to fight Michael.

And it wasn’t looking good.

“If I just had my powers, I could beat him. If I could use them—“

“Jack, if you use them you lose your soul.” You shook your head. “I just got you back. And I’ve seen what losing a soul does to people. I can’t go through that again. We don’t need you to fight all our battles, Jack.” You reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’re just glad you’re here with us again.”

Jack squeezed your hand, a fleeting smile crossing his face.

“Me too.”

…

“When I gave up Dean, you didn’t think to question why?”

Jack’s hand was firmly in yours, as if he knew your intentions. You’d just watched Dean go from your big brother back into the archangel that was stealing his body, and Jack knew you wouldn’t take it well. He was right. All you wanted to do was go to him, to shake him around until Dean came back, but Jack wouldn’t let go of your arm.

Michael and Sam were arguing, but Jack ignored them as he leaned forward and whispered in your ear.

“We’ll get Dean back,” he promised. “Just be patient.” Jack’s hand squeezed yours, and it felt like he was dragging you back down to earth and clearing your head from the clouds.

…

The fight was over quickly, although it left all of you bruised. But at least Michael was now in the angel cuffs and back in the bunker. He was surprisingly calm about being captured, but that didn’t keep him from threatening anyone near him.

It didn’t help that monsters would be banging down the door any minute, thanks to Michael’s control over them.

“I’ll watch him,” you told your brother. “You guys secure the bunker.”

“Be careful,” Sam said.

“With the chained up archangel?” You tried to look relaxed. “C’mon Sam, I’ve got the easy job here.”

It would’ve been easier if the archangel wasn’t wearing your brother.

…

“So they send their weakest link to watch the archangel.” Michael was doing your best to faze you, so you did your best to ignore him. “I think I should feel insulted.”

“And you think I care why?” You cursed the subtle way your voice shook, and hoped that Michael couldn’t hear it.

“If Dean was…here…I’m sure it would worry him.” Michael leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “He doesn’t think you’re a very good hunter.”

“And I should listen to you?” You scoffed, but you doubted your voice was as steady as you wanted it.

“Well, I am in Dean’s head. And he doesn’t think you can do it, he never did. After all, it’s not like you’re a real Winchester anyway.”

“Dean thinks that?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it.

A smile crept its way onto Michael’s lips, and he seemed suddenly more interested in you.

“What did you expect him to think? You’re not Mary’s daughter, you’re not his real sister. You’re not like Sam to him, you never have been.”

“I—“ your voice caught in your throat. You wanted to tell Michael that it wasn’t true. You wanted to say “screw you,” you wanted to say “Dean would never,” but your voice wouldn’t work.

“Hey!” Sam’s voice startled you, and his hand was suddenly on your shoulder. “That’s enough,” he barked at Michael. “Hey.” He looked back at you, his voice softening. “Why don’t you go hang out with Jack, I’ve got him for now.”

“Actually, that won’t be necessary,” Michael spoke up. “The plan has changed, and she’ll be going with me.”

“Excuse me?” Sam glared at Michael, unfazed. That is, he was unfazed…

Until Michael stood, dropping the angel cuffs to the ground.

“The rest of you I’ll leave to my friends outside.” Michael threw his hand out, sending Sam flying away from you. “But the girl…” Michael had a hold of your arm before you could back away. “You won’t have to worry about her anymore.”

…

In the blink of an eye, you had been taken from your home; you and Michael weren’t in the bunker anymore. You’d returned to the office building that he’d turned into his personal headquarters, only this time there were half a dozen monsters in the main room. You found yourself leaning away from them, until you realized that that meant you were leaning towards Michael. It was hard to see monsters and not natural gravitate towards Dean.

This isn’t Dean, you told yourself. And you can’t forget that for even a second.

“Sir.” A werewolf stepped closer to Michael. “I thought you were—“

“Just a little change in plans,” Michael said. “Your werewolves are still locked onto my previous location?”

“Yes sir,” he said. “They should be at the bunker any minute.”

“Good.” Michael nodded. “You may go. And take the rest of these—“ he gestured at the other monsters in the room “—with you. I have some things I need to take care of in here. Alone.”

“Is that a Winchester?” Another of the monsters was eyeing you hungrily. “Did you bring us a little snack?” He started to approach, but a single glare from Michael stopped him in his tracks.

“If I wanted you to eat her, I would’ve told you that. She’s mine, understand?” Once the monster nodded, Michael smiled sardonically. “Good. Now go.”

The monsters cleared out quickly, and soon you were left alone with the archangel that taunted you with your big brother’s face.

“What am I doing here?” You tried to force your voice to come out strong, but the self-satisfied smirk that came across Michael’s face as he looked down at you said that you’d done a horrible job at that.

“You know what I’m doing here, right?” Michael asked. You didn’t answer—you could tell it was a rhetorical question—but the pleased look in Michael’s eyes at your silence had you wishing you’d said something sarcastic, like Dean would have. “I’m building a better world,” Michael continued. “Humans have had their time in the sun, but they’ve never amounted to anything. It’s time they got knocked of their pedestal. That’s why I’m having my monsters kill and turn them.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you kept me alive,” you argued. Michael’s eyes flashed in anger at your interruption, but he continued anyway.

“You’re different than your brothers, and from the rest of those fools in the bunker. Jack is too powerful to bother with, and Cas and your brothers…they’re too stubborn. But you…you’re young. Moldable. I have a plan to make this world my own, with the monsters on top. But humans…I’m keeping a few alive. Some for the monsters to feed on. And some…some who I think could be useful to me. You could be useful, with some…modifications.”

“What modifi—“

Michael’s hand shot out and closed around your throat, and before you even knew it was there you felt your breath stop.

“The first improvement I plan to make is to shut. You. Up. You need to learn your place here.” The hand around your throat was pushing down, and you felt yourself fall to your knees under the pressure. “Your life is a privilege, not a right.” The vision of Michael above you was starting to go fuzzy, but you could still make out the coldness in his eyes. “And privileges can be taken away. Do you understand me?”

You nodded mutely, and the pressure on your throat disappeared.

“You are just an example of what all humans will be. Well, all the ones I allow to live. You exist to serve those greater than you. You exist to serve me.”

“My brothers—“ Michael glared at you, but he didn’t stop you, so you continued. “My brothers will stop you. And Cas and Jack, all of them, they can stop you.”

Michael smiled patiently. Mockingly.

“You don’t really believe that,” he said. “You know your little family back in the bunker is as good as dead. And Dean—“ Michael tapped his forehead “—is tucked away quietly. I have him under control.”

“They’re stronger than you think,” you snapped.

Michael smirked and patted your head. “That’s enough out of you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but when you tried to speak it felt like your lungs caught on fire. You curled in on yourself, rubbing at your chest while the pain slowly faded.

“As I told you,” Michael began. “You exist to serve me. If you use your abilities in a way I don’t like, I can take them away. And I will make it hurt. Every. Time.”

You stared up at Michael, until suddenly your eyes started to sting.

“Don’t look at me,” Michael snapped. “Keep your eyes down.”

You dropped your eyes down and whimpered as the pain slowly faded away, but Michael had already turned his attention to the opening door.

“Sir.” A vampire was standing in the doorway. “The bunker’s fortifications are stronger than we thought. It may take days to get through.”

Michael gritted his teeth. “Fine. Just get it done.”

Michael noticed the monster staring at you. “I see you’ve noticed my girl. This is how all humans who aren’t killed or turned should behave. Ever silent, ever obedient. Understand?”

The vampire licked his lips.

“Would you mind if I had a taste?” He stepped closer to you. “After all, a Winchester—“

“Yes, I would mind,” Michael snapped. “If you want a human, go get your own. I’ve given you the world as your oyster. But the girl is mine. Now leave me.”

You kept your eyes glued to the floor as the door swung shut. You felt the toe of Michael’s boot push at your chin, tilting your head up and in Michael’s direction.

“You should be thanking me. It would be so easy for me to let them rip you to shreds.” Michael’s eyes flashed blue, and you felt your throat tighten up. “What do you say?”

“Thank…you…” you gasped, and Michael released his magic hold on your throat.

“You’re a fast learner,” he commended. “Keep it that way, and this will be a lot less painful for you.” Michael twisted his hand, and you felt as though your ribs were twisting around and stabbing your lungs, your heart, everything. “But it can’t be completely painless. If you want a good omelet, you have to crack a few eggs. And I’ve been looking forward to breaking you.”

…

You never thought that you’d associate the sight of your big brother with pain. It took less than two days with Michael to change that.

You didn’t know if your family was still alive. You didn’t know if you’d ever see them again. You didn’t even know if Dean was still around in Michael’s head, or if he could see what was happening to you. All you knew now was pain.

“What’s the situation at the bunker?” Michael was talking to one of his many monsters, but you didn’t dare look up; not even at the mention of your family. “Are they dead yet?”

“I’m afraid not sir. But my people have told me that they’re about to break through the door now that they’ve gotten through all the warding.”

“Good. Tell them to wait until I get there.” You felt Michael’s grace tugging at your neck—your cue to look at him. When you did, he grinned at you, flashing all thirty-two pearly white teeth in a way that Dean never would have. “You’re going to come with me to watch the show,” Michael said. “And then you’ll understand just how hopeless you really are.”

…

“Y/N!” Sam’s voice was the first thing you heard when the bunker door slammed shut behind you and Michael; he wanted to do the killing himself now that the monsters had broken in. It took every ounce of strength you had not to look up and run to your big brother. Instead, you stayed obediently by Michael’s side, your eyes trained on the back of his shoes.

“Oh, she’s mine now,” Michael chuckled. “But I’m a moment it won’t matter to any of you.”

“You had your chance to kill us.” Jack stepped suddenly out from the side hallway, effectively trapping Michael between him and Sam. “And you left. Why?”

“I wanted to get things settled with this sweet little sister of yours before the massacre began,” Michael said, a cocky smirk twisting his lips. “No need for her to get killed when she’s making such a good little slave.”

“Leave her alone!” Jack’s eyes flashed yellow as he took a step toward Michael.

“Jack don’t!” Sam shook his head, and Jack stopped.

“It doesn’t matter what you do at this point,” Michael said. “I told you the story ended with your deaths, and I meant it. You can’t stop me.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Sam’s face. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

You hit the ground hard when Jack tackled you out of the way. His place was immediately taken by Castiel, who rushed Michael. Michael, taken aback, rose his hands to fight Cas a split second too late. Cas grabbed hold of Michael’s wrist and slapped the angel cuffs on him.

“They’ve been re-warded,” Sam piped in. “They’re stronger than they’ve ever been. Oh, and that warding that your monsters thought they got through? Cas booted it up again the minute you stepped inside. Your cavalry isn’t coming. At least, not in time.”

Michael scoffed, “In time for what? You still have no way to kill me, or stop me.”

“Actually we do,” Cas said. “We’re gonna get inside your head, and Dean’s gonna kick you out.”

…

“We’re gonna get Dean back,” Sam tried to tell you as Cas started to hook Michael up to one of the Men of Letters’ machines, but you didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the ground.

You could practically feel Michael’s eyes boring into you, reminding you to do as you were told and keep quiet. You didn’t think he could do anything with the angel cuffs on, but you’d learned to never underestimate Michael’s ability to punish you.

And you’d learned to never disobey him.

Sam turned his attention back to Michael—he could only fight one battle at a time, and getting Dean back took precedence for now—but Cas’s attention was suddenly on you. He walked up to you, leaning down in a failed attempt to meet your eye.

“Are you alright little one?” He asked. No answer. “You’re safe now, he can’t use his powers with the cuffs on.” Nothing. Cas sighed. “As soon as we get Dean back, we’re gonna help you, ok? You won’t have to be scared anymore.” When you still didn’t reply, Cas hesitantly turned his back on you to return to Sam and Dean.

“Me and Cas are going in after him,” Sam said. “Jack, we need you to stay here in case those monsters come in. And—“ Sam glanced at you, but you barely seemed to register anything going on in the room. “And make sure she stays safe, understand?”

“Of course. I won’t let anything happen to her…to any of you,” Jack insisted.

…

“Y/N?” Jack waited until he was sure Michael was safely in his own mind with Sam and Cas before he turned his attention to you. “Y/N, you can hear me right?”

You didn’t nod, exactly, but your head noticeably twitched up, so Jack took that as a good sign.

“Ok, ok good. I just wanna make sure you know that you’re safe. Michael isn’t gonna hurt you ever again, ok? Sam and Cas have this plan—they’re gonna talk to Dean up there in his head, and he’s gonna kick Michael out. He’ll be back to regular Dean, just like I said. We’re gonna get him back, Y/N. I promise.” Jack reached forward and wrapped his hand around yours. Your hand was limp in his, your fingers unmoving.

Jack sighed. “I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be, I promise. Remember I helped you after Asmodeus hurt you? I just want to help you again. I want you to feel safe again.”

Jack waited, his breath stagnant as he watched you.

Nothing. Not a hint of movement in your eyes, not a twitch from the limp hand that was still resting in Jack’s. It was like you weren’t even in there.

“I don’t care how long it takes,” Jack said. “I’m gonna help you come back.”

…

“I’ve got him.”

It was Michael’s voice, but it didn’t sound like Michael anymore. Could it be…

“Sammy, I’ve got him. He’s secure, he’s not going anywhere.” Dean. It was Dean. “Y/N?” The sound of that voice calling your name stopped your breath, even though you were almost sure it was your big brother now.

“Hey, wait—“ you heard the scuffling of feet and the sound of Sam’s voice. “Dean, don’t. Michael—he took her. He hurt her. I don’t really know how, or what happened, but…but just go slow with her.”

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice was gentle as he slowly stepped closer to you. “Y/N, it’s Dean. Would you look at me, please?”

This finally got a reaction. You tilted your chin up and lifted your eyes to Dean, but you still didn’t move or speak.

“Hey.” A relieved smile broke out on Dean’s face—at least he knew you were listening now. “Hey kiddo. You doin ok?”

The longer you stared at Dean, the more shallow your breathing became. Dean was just reaching for you, hoping to calm you down, when you suddenly turned on your heel and made a dash for your room.

“Y/N!” Sam called after you. The slam of your door was his answer.

…

You wouldn’t answer the door for anyone, even Jack.

“I’m gonna go in there,” Dean decided.

“Dean, maybe she just needs space,” Sam suggested.

“She’s been in there all day without a word.” Dean shook his head. “I’ve gotta at least check on her.”

‘’Maybe I should try,” Jack suggested.

“I’m doing this alone.” Dean’s voice didn’t leave much room for argument, but Jack tried anyway.

“You still don’t trust me around her?” Jack asked.

“It’s not about that,” Dean huffed. “I’m the one who did this, so I’m the one who needs to fix it.”

“Dean, it wasn’t your—“ Cas’s protests stopped when Dean held up a hand.

“It doesn’t matter. She still sees him every time she looks at me. I need to fix this.”

Sam was the first to relent, and he managed to get Jack and Cas to leave with him to give you and Dean some space.

“Kiddo?” Dean knocked softly, knowing you wouldn’t answer. He was right. “Kiddo, if you don’t say anything I’m just gonna open the door. You ok in there?” After a prolonged silence, Dean went on. “Ok, I’m coming in.” He twisted the handle, glad it wasn’t locked, and slipped through the door.

You were sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, your knees tucked up against your chest. Your whole body stiffened when Dean stepped into the room, but other than that there was no indication that you’d seen him enter; you didn’t look at him, you didn’t move.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. He sat next to you, and you didn’t react. “Would you look at me?”

Your eyes met Dean’s, and something scratched at the back of his mind.

“Are you just gonna do what I tell you to do?” Dean swallowed. “Is…is that what Michael made you do?” You stayed silent, so Dean prompted, “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Kid, you don’t have to do that. I’m not Michael, you know that right?”

“I…” your voice faltered. You took a deep breath. “I know. I’ll—I’m trying.”

“I never wanted him to hurt you,” Dean sighed. “I never meant for—“

“It’s not your fault, De,” you interrupted. “You’re not Michael, and…and nothing he said or did meant anything about you.”

“Ok, I got it.” Dean put his hand on your shoulder. “Now you gotta remember that, too, and stop being so freaked around me. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I told you, I’ll try…Dean?”

“Yeah kid?”

“Are you sure he can’t get out?”

When he saw you shaking, Dean reached out and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m sure. I’m never gonna let that guy hurt you again, ok? Never.”

You finally relaxed in your big brother’s arms.

“Ok.”

“Good. Now let’s go bother Sam and the angel gang.”

You laughed.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[scripts4dreamers]

Me and my one (1) friend who has also had their brain corrupted by the blight (dragon age) have been fighting about this for two days but I’m so sure I’m right, so I humbly present my thesis to you lovely people.

1. After the events of the Veilguard, if Rook and Neve ended up together, Neve tries to leave you.

LET ME EXPLAIN! (Spoilers for the Veilguard ending)

I love Neve. She’s my favorite romance from Veilguard, she’s an incredible character and she does not deserve all the hate she gets. Having said that, she does 1000% try and leave Rook.

The one thing we know about Neve, almost from the moment we meet her, is that she is not a believer. She doesn’t believe Solas is a god, at first, she doesn’t believe anyone will have her back, she doesn’t believe Minrathous will improve and she doesn’t believe she’s going to survive this job. But still she fights on, not out of a genuine belief that she can win, but because she has a soft spot for lost causes.

Neve has devoted her life to being the champion of lost causes. She tells Rook that, even if this job doesn’t get her, one of them will. She risks her life, day in and day out, in service of a city that has done nothing but hurt her. Neve believes she’s a dead woman walking, and all she wants to do is go down protecting the people of Dock Town because someone has to. Someone has to.

And then she meets Rook and Harding and now gods are real, and they’re destroying the world and oh well everything was always going to go down in flames, so why not help out? She’s always been a magnet for bad news, for bad luck, for the worst of humanity, so why not spend her last days fighting for what little good is left?

She tries to fight falling for Rook, but they’re everything she wishes the world could be. They’re the lifeline she’s been waiting for since before the world forced her to stop believing. They’re good and kind and full of life and how can she do anything but love them for that? But she’s already dead, they’re both already dead and she can’t survive another loss.

She throws herself into loving them only after she lost them to the Fade. Only after Harding/Davrin died. After her world already ended, because that’s when she really realizes how quickly it can all end and how much time she wasted pushing people away. The goddamn WORLD IS ENDING and the person you love is THERE and they’re REAL and they WANT YOU, so why not? What is there to lose? It’s easy to love someone when the world is ending. It’s easy to love someone when you’re both already doomed.

But then the world doesn’t end. The sun rises on a blighted Minrathous and they’re both still alive, and now she’s faced with rebuilding. There’s so much work to be done, she’s a bloody, scarred mess and the job she was brought in for is over, isn’t it? She’s not a cool noir detective who died saving the world anymore, she’s someone’s partner, someone’s friend and lover and those aren’t jobs she had ever prepared herself to take.

Suddenly, without the haze of panic and the urgency of stopping the gods, things look different. She needs a new apartment. Minrathous needs a detective. Life goes back to normal and Neve still isn’t a believer.

Of course, everyone says they’ll stay in touch. Bonds formed that can never be broken and all that, but Neve knows better. You don’t hang around once the party is over. You don’t give the world more ways to hurt you, more people to take. You don’t give people a chance to leave you.

So she leaves first.

She regrets it. She hates herself for it. She cries herself to sleep wondering how she could be such a coward, but she leaves. She packs a bag, writes a goodbye letter and leaves before morning.

Now, do I think her and Rook get back together? Absolutely I do. I just think that, with all the events of Veilguard happening in such a short time, there’s going to be some major questions for all the companions once the dust settles, and leaving before you can be left is Neve Gallus’ answer to those questions.

[lila-lou]

✨Family✨

Summary: This Christmas is your first with Emily, Beau’s teenage daughter. Between her shy smiles and sharp wit, she’s learning to trust you, and you’re creating a home together.

-Christmas Special-

Pairing: Beau x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 3377

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. ❤️

The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts, filling the air with a cozy warmth that made the chill of the Montana winter seem far away. Emily stood next to you, carefully arranging cookies on a tray. Her focus was intense, her tongue poking out slightly as she concentrated on making each cookie look just right. It was the kind of detail about her that always made you smile—a reminder that, even at sixteen, she still had that playful spark beneath her teenage independence.

“You think Dad’s gonna notice if I sneak one of these?”, she asked, glancing at you with a sly grin.

You laughed, rolling out another batch of dough. “Oh, he’ll notice. Beau’s got a sixth sense when it comes to cookies. Besides, don’t you want to save some for tonight?”.

Emily groaned dramatically, clearly unimpressed with your reasoning. “Fine. But the gingerbread man with the crooked smile is mine. Calling it now”.

Through the frosted kitchen window, you could see Beau and Cole outside in the snow. Your three-year-old son was bundled up so tightly in his navy-blue coat and matching hat that he looked like a tiny snowball himself. He was giggling uncontrollably as Beau helped him roll a massive snowball for the base of their snowman. Beau’s laughter was just as loud, echoing across the yard, a warm contrast to the cold landscape. You could see the way his breath fogged in the air as he crouched down, ruffling Cole’s hair every time he clapped his mittens together in excitement.

Emily noticed you watching them and sighed, setting the spatula down. “They’re having way more fun than we are. Why do we get kitchen duty?”.

You smirked and nudged her playfully with your elbow. “Because you agreed cookies were more important than frostbite”.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “That was before I realized how boring baking is. I don’t know how you do this for fun”.

“It’s not boring if you put your heart into it”, you teased. “Besides, you can’t tell me those cookies don’t look amazing. You’re doing great”.

Emily looked at the tray, a hint of pride creeping into her expression. “Yeah, I guess they do. And I’ll admit… it’s kinda nice being here”. Her voice softened at the end, almost like she was testing the words out.

You paused, glancing at her carefully. It hadn’t been an easy adjustment for Emily. This was her first Christmas with you, Beau, and Cole—her first away from her mom. While she didn’t talk about it much, you could tell it weighed on her. The little things gave her away: the far-off look she got sometimes, the way she’d hesitate before fully relaxing around you.

“I’m glad you’re here”, you said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s different, but it wouldn’t feel right without you”.

Emily shrugged, but you caught the flicker of a smile. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not bad or anything… I just—”. She stopped herself and focused back on the cookies. “It’s nice to feel like part of something, you know?”.

Your heart ached for her in that moment. She’d been through so much this past year, but she’d held it together with a strength that amazed you. “You are part of something”, you said gently. “And we wouldn’t trade you for the world”.

Emily didn’t respond, but her shoulders relaxed just a little, and that was enough.

Outside, Beau lifted Cole onto his shoulders, spinning him around as the little boy shouted with glee. The snowman project had apparently been abandoned in favor of an impromptu snowball fight, with Beau pretending to dodge the tiny handfuls of snow Cole tossed at him. The sight made you laugh, and Emily turned to the window, her expression softening as she watched her dad and Cole.

“They’re such dorks”, she said, but there was no malice in her voice—just affection.

“That they are”, you agreed, sliding the tray of cookies into the oven. “But they’re our dorks”.

Emily smiled, a small, genuine one that made you feel like maybe things were starting to fall into place. This Christmas might not be what any of you had imagined, but for the first time, it felt like the start of something real, something good.

Eventually, you set the rolling pin down, brushing flour off your hands as a mischievous grin spread across your face. Emily looked up, raising a curious brow.

“What?”, she asked, watching as you wiped your hands on a towel.

You nodded toward the door, your grin growing. “Come on”, you said, a playful spark in your voice. “Let’s show them what a real snowball fight looks like”.

Emily’s face lit up, and for the first time all day, she looked completely carefree. “Oh, you’re on”, she said, already tugging her sleeves down to head for her coat.

The two of you quickly bundled up, Emily grabbing a pair of mismatched gloves and tugging them on as you zipped up your jacket. The moment you stepped outside, the icy air nipped at your cheeks, but the laughter from Beau and Cole made it easy to forget the cold. They were crouched behind a pile of snow, clearly in the middle of their “battle”. Cole had a snowball in each hand, and Beau was dramatically shielding himself, shouting, “Mercy! Mercy!”, as Cole pelted him with what looked like more powder than ice.

“They’re not even going to see it coming”, you whispered to Emily, who crouched beside you, already scooping up a handful of snow.

“Divide and conquer?”, she suggested, her grin matching yours.

“Always”, you replied.

Together, you moved swiftly, using the yard’s uneven snow piles as cover. You watched as Emily targeted Beau first, her snowball hitting him square in the shoulder. He whipped around, stunned.

“What the—”, he started, before you launched your own snowball, catching him in the chest.

“Reinforcements?!”, Beau shouted, laughing as he scrambled to grab snow. “Oh, you two are in trouble now!”.

Cole, catching on to the new dynamic, screamed with delight. “Get ‘em, Daddy!”.

But Emily was fast. She ducked behind a snowbank, expertly avoiding Beau’s counterattack. Meanwhile, you were busy distracting him, tossing snowball after snowball, laughing so hard you could barely aim.

“You think you can take me down?”, Beau called, his Southern drawl coming out in full force as he lobbed a snowball in your direction. “I’m the king of snowball fights!”.

“King? You’ve already been dethroned!”, you shouted back, dodging his throw and quickly crafting another snowball.

Emily, ever the opportunist, took advantage of Beau’s focus on you. She came out of nowhere, launching a snowball right at the back of his head. The soft thud of snow hitting his hat was met with a stunned silence before he turned slowly, his mouth open in mock betrayal.

“Et tu, Emily?”, he said dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.

“Every man—or dad—for himself!”, Emily shouted, laughing so hard she could barely keep her balance.

Meanwhile, Cole was toddling over to you with his own version of a snowball, which was really just a clump of powdery fluff. He tossed it at your leg, giggling uncontrollably. “Gotcha, Mommy!”.

“Oh no, I’m hit!”, you cried, pretending to stumble backward into the snow. Cole squealed with joy, climbing onto your legs to “finish the job”.

Beau took the opportunity to scoop Emily into his arms, spinning her around as she shrieked, “No fair! No fair!”. The laughter echoed across the yard, a perfect mix of chaos and joy.

By the time you all called a truce, your cheeks were red, your gloves soaked, and your sides ached from laughing. Beau walked over, his arm slinging around your shoulders as Cole clung to his leg, still chattering about his “big win”. Emily joined you, shaking the snow out of her hair and grinning like she hadn’t a care in the world.

“Well”, Beau said, his voice warm and low, “I don’t know about you, but I think that might’ve been the best snowball fight this family’s ever seen”.

“It’s the only snowball fight this family’s ever seen”, Emily pointed out, but the teasing tone in her voice made it clear she’d loved every second.

You leaned into Beau, glancing at the three of them, your little makeshift family. “Well, I guess we’ve set the bar pretty high, haven’t we?”.

Beau smiled down at you, his eyes soft. “Good thing we’ve got plenty more years to top it”.

And as the four of you trudged back inside, shedding wet coats and boots, you couldn’t help but feel it: the warmth, the laughter, the love. This was Christmas. This was home.

Inside, the warmth of the house quickly thawed the chill from your cheeks. Snow clung stubbornly to Cole’s little hat and mittens, and his face was flushed bright red from the cold and laughter. Beau grinned as he scooped him up, effortlessly hoisting him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Cole squealed, kicking his legs playfully as Beau said, “Alright, buddy, time to get you warmed up and in some dry clothes before you turn into a popsicle”.

You followed them up the stairs with Emily trailing behind, her footsteps light and quiet as she watched the scene unfold. Beau pushed the bathroom door open with his elbow, still holding Cole, and plopped him down on the edge of the tub. The little boy wiggled as you knelt down next to him, gently brushing the snowflakes from his hair.

“Hold still, Cole”, you said, laughing as he squirmed. “We’re trying to help you, you know”.

“But I’m not cold!”, Cole protested, giggling as Beau wrestled with the tiny, wet socks that clung stubbornly to his feet.

“Not cold, huh?”, Beau teased, holding up one soggy sock like it was evidence in a trial. “Then what do you call this, Mr. Snowman? A fashion statement?”.

Cole’s laughter filled the small bathroom as he tried to kick his feet free, but Beau caught them easily, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “You’ve been like this since you were born, you know. Always wiggling around, never staying still”.

“Cause I’m fast!”, Cole declared proudly, pumping his little fists in the air.

“You’re definitely something”, Beau muttered, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he finally got the last sock off. “Now, let’s get you into some dry clothes before you speed your way into a cold”.

Emily leaned casually against the doorway, her arms crossed as she watched the two of you fuss over Cole. There was something soft in her expression, though she tried to mask it with her usual teenage coolness.

“You two are such parents”, she said, her tone laced with mock judgment.

You glanced back at her with a smirk. “Is that a bad thing?”.

Emily shrugged, but there was no edge to it. “No. Just… funny, I guess. You’re both so good at it”.

Her words made you pause for a moment, your heart swelling. It wasn’t often that Emily said things like that—openly kind and vulnerable. You met her gaze and gave her a warm smile. “Well, we’ve had a lot of practice with this one”, you said, nodding toward Cole, who was now giggling uncontrollably as Beau tickled his belly while trying to pull his shirt over his head.

Beau looked up at Emily, his grin wide. “And for the record, I’d say we’re pretty good at being your parents too. Even if you don’t let us put your socks on”.

Emily rolled her eyes, but you caught the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a smile. “I think I can manage my socks, thanks”.

“Good to know”, Beau replied, finally managing to get Cole into a clean, dry shirt. He scooped the little boy back into his arms and stood, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Cole’s head. “There. Warm and toasty, just like a marshmallow”.

“I’m a marshmallow!”, Cole shouted, making you and Beau laugh.

Emily chuckled too, though she tried to hide it behind a shake of her head. “You’re all ridiculous”, she said, turning toward the hallway.

You stood, brushing your hands on your jeans, and caught up with her as Beau carried Cole back down. “Ridiculous, maybe”, you said softly, nudging her shoulder with yours. “But happy. And that’s what matters, right?”.

Emily glanced at you, her expression softening again, though she quickly masked it with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sappy on me, okay?”.

“Too late”, you teased, following her down the hall. But deep down, you knew she felt it too—this warmth, this connection, this new sense of family.

As the evening settled in, the house glowed with the soft light of the Christmas tree, its twinkling bulbs casting warm colors across the room. The scent of cinnamon lingered from earlier in the day, mixing with the woodsy aroma of the tree. The four of you were sprawled on the couch, cozied under a thick, patchwork blanket.

Beau, of course, had taken up the role of ultimate family snuggler. He sat in the middle, his left arm wrapped firmly around Emily, who had only agreed to the arrangement after a dramatic eye-roll and a mumbled, “Fine, but just this once”. Despite her protests, she leaned into him, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.

You lay on his other side, his right arm draped around your shoulders as you nestled close, your legs tucked up under you. Cole, ever the little king of chaos, had stretched himself out across both your laps. His head rested on Emily’s knee, his little hands clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur, while his feet occasionally kicked up as he babbled about the cookies he’d eaten and the snowman that “almost stayed up”.

“Almost doesn’t count, little man”, Beau teased, ruffling Cole’s messy hair. “Next time, we’re getting it to stand no matter what. That’s a promise”.

Cole giggled, his voice sleepy but full of excitement. “You’re gonna help me, Daddy?”.

“Always”, Beau said, his voice soft and steady. “Always, buddy”.

You smiled at the exchange, feeling the warmth of Beau’s hand rubbing small circles on your shoulder. This was it—the quiet, perfect moment you’d been hoping for all day. Emily glanced at you briefly, catching your expression, and she smirked in that way only a teenager could.

“What?”, she asked, her tone playful but curious.

“Nothing”, you said softly, though the smile on your face betrayed you. “Just… this”.

Beau’s hand stilled for a moment, and he looked down at you, his gaze filled with a tenderness that never failed to make your chest ache. “Yeah”, he said quietly, “this is pretty good, isn’t it?”.

Emily groaned in mock disgust. “Oh, come on. You two are so gross sometimes”.

“You love it”, Beau said, leaning down to plant a quick, noisy kiss on the top of her head. She wrinkled her nose but didn’t pull away, and you noticed the small smile tugging at her lips.

“Do not”, she muttered, clearly lying.

Cole let out a loud yawn, his little arms stretching wide as he snuggled deeper into the blanket. “I love it”, he announced proudly, his words slightly muffled by the stuffed dinosaur he was still clutching.

As the evening wore on, Cole’s babbling grew softer, his eyelids drooping as the warmth of the blanket and the steady rhythm of Beau’s voice lulled him closer to sleep. He shifted, nestling deeper into the crook of your lap, his stuffed dinosaur still clutched tightly to his chest. You brushed a hand gently over his hair, smoothing down the messy tufts that stuck up from his earlier adventures in the snow.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Cole’s sleepy voice broke the quiet moment. “Emmy?”, he asked softly, his words slurring a little with tiredness.

Emily’s head popped up, her eyes widening slightly as she looked down at him. “Yeah, bud?”, she replied, her voice uncertain but kind.

“Will you read me a bedtime story tonight?”, Cole asked, his little voice so sweet and tentative it made your heart squeeze.

Emily blinked, caught off guard. “Me? Not Mommy or Daddy?”.

Cole shook his head against your knee, yawning widely. “I want you. Please, Emmy?”.

The room fell quiet for a moment, everyone waiting for Emily’s response. She glanced at you, then at Beau, like she wasn’t sure she was the right choice. Beau’s expression was warm and encouraging, and he gave her a little nudge with his elbow. “Looks like you’ve got a fan, kiddo”, he said softly, his tone teasing but gentle.

Emily hesitated for only a moment longer before giving a small shrug, though the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “Yeah, okay. Sure, I’ll read to you”, she said, her voice carefully casual.

Cole’s sleepy face lit up in a soft smile. “Yay”, he murmured.

As Emily and Cole disappeared upstairs, their voices trailing off as Emily tried to convince Cole that she wasn’t going to do all the silly voices, you turned back toward Beau, who was already shifting under the blanket. Before you could say a word, he stood up, effortlessly scooping you into his arms with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Beau!”, you laughed, clutching at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”.

“Kid’s occupied, we’ve got at least twenty minutes”, he said, his voice low and teasing as he headed toward the basement stairs. “I’m taking advantage of a rare opportunity”.

“For what?!”, you giggled, your heart racing more from the way he was looking at you than the movement.

“To spend some uninterrupted time with my wife”, he replied, his drawl making the words feel softer and warmer than they already were. “That’s what Christmas miracles are all about, right?”.

You couldn’t help but laugh, resting your head against his shoulder as he descended the stairs. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”.

“Yeah”, he said, his grin widening. “But also horny".

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he nudged the guest room door open with his foot and stepped inside. The room was small but cozy, its faint glow coming from the single lamp on the nightstand. Beau set you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering on your waist as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours.

“Finally”, he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “A little peace and quiet”.

You raised a brow, still smiling. “You think twenty minutes is enough for peace and quiet? With our kids upstairs?”.

Beau smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll take what I can get. Besides, I don’t need long to remind you how much I love you”.

The warmth in his voice melted any teasing retort you might have had. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “You’re pretty good at that, you know”.

“Good”, he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. “Because I plan on doing it for the rest of my life”.

And for a moment, the world upstairs faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the quiet, perfect stillness of the moment. It wasn’t long, of course, before the faint sound of Cole’s giggles echoed down the stairs, followed by Emily’s exaggerated sigh as she tried to coax him to sleep. But for those few minutes, it was enough—just you and Beau, tucked away from the chaos, stealing a little piece of Christmas magic for yourselves.

———————————

A/N: Let´s welcome Beau to the family. Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373

[vinylfoxbooks]

25 Days of Jegumas | Day 1 | Day 20 December 21 - Mistletoe Kiss | @noblehouseofgay | wc: 786

“What’s that, mummy?” Luna asks, pointing at the little plant that one of the characters in the movie is hanging up. The camera focuses on it for a while. 

Lily smiles at the little girl, “It’s called mistletoe. There’s a thing that really big kids and adults do where when two people walk under it at the same time, they have to kiss.”

“Kiss? But isn’t that something only mummies and daddies do?” 

James laughs gently, ruffling Luna’s hair, “No, it’s not. Sometimes friends can kiss, sometimes people can kiss and then never kiss again, sometimes they find the only person they’ll kiss for the rest of their lives, and that’s what your mums and me and Reg have.”

“So anyone can kiss.”

“As long as they both clearly want to, of course they can.” James smiles.

Pandora nods, “And kisses can be anywhere you want it to be, like…” she leans down at kisses her daughter’s forehead, “the head or…” she turns to where Harry is curled up in Lily’s side and pecks his forehead, “the forehead or…” she pulls Regulus, who’s legs she’s leaning against, down to her so she can kiss his cheek, “the cheek or…” she grabs next at James’ hand, bringing it to kiss their knuckles, “the hand or even…” finally, she pulls Lily in for a brief kiss, “The lips. As long as you both want to.” 

“Have you kissed under the miss-toe?” Harry asks, furrowing his brows when he can’t quite figure out how to pronounce the word. 

James nods, “We have.”

It’s one of James’ favourite memories of Regulus, something that happened before they even got together -- though it did play a hand in their relationship just a month and a half later. During a Christmas party that the Potters were having and that James had convicned Sirius to convince Regulus to attend, there had been mistletoe put around a couple different areas of the house. Leading into the ktichen, leading to the stairwell, hanging off the doorway of one of the less busy hallways. There was even one out on the porch in the backyard. 

James had helped their parents put it up and didn’t really care to get caught under any of the sprigs, so they had been carefully avoiding them. Regulus had done the same. But it was in a minor lapse of judgement where James found Regulus outside, just the two of them since there was some sort of event happening inside, and they had gotten so distracted talking to him becaue Regulus was actually talking back and it was the best thing James had ever experienced in their life. Yeah, they had exchanged a couple cards for holidays but there wasn’t anything between them, and they almost never talked. 

But here they were, standing outside alone and talking and laughing and Regulus looked so fucking good in the light from the moon and the Christmas lights strung around the patio. And then Regulus was looking up and his eyes were widening, making James snap their gaze up aswell, knowing just what they were going to find. 

Almost immediately, while still refusing to look away from the mistletoe hung perfectly between them, they laughed, “Well, look at that… I forgot that was out here.” Then they looked down to see the shorter, “We don’t- no one is out here to pressure us into kissing or anything, we don’t have to do it if we don’t want-” but they were cut off by Regulus surging forward, fisting the collar of their shirt, and pulling them into him. James went easily, arms going to wrap around his waist immediately.

When they finally pulled away, Regulus just sneered at James, “You need to learn to shut the fuck up sometimes, James.” Then he turned on his heels and headed back inside, leaving a very confused James behind in the cold. James later learned that Regulus walked away because he freaked himself out and thought that he had messed. Apparently he had gone to hide away in an upstairs bathroom for twenty minutes before Sirius found him. 

But James isn’t going to go into those details with their son or step-daughter, so they just leave it at that and let the kids turn to ask Lily and Pandora if they’ve ever kissed under the mistletoe before pressing them for more information on the tradition. Regulus’ hand finds James’, as though he was going through the same memory that they just were -- and it’s likely that he was, what with the fond look they find on his face when they turn to him. James squeezes his hand and focuses back on what Pandora is saying to the two kids.

Day 22

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 14

Hi guys!

We are at the end of this story... And this is the sad ending of it. There will have another part, were you can read an happy ending, coming in like one hour. Don't hesitate to tell me which one you enjoy the most!

And thank again for the amount of love, encouragement and everything I had during this story. It wasn't always easy to write it to be honest, it was an heavy one. But i liked it anyway.

Lot of love ♥

TW : Death, fight, angst, no happy ending, blood

Chapter Before

As they both are talking and fighting, neither Ona nor Tony sees the shape of the person coming next to them. Panting, the silhouette takes some time to take their breath. The fight was hard, as expected. Both Lucy and Kayla come from career districts, they both learned how to fight during their childhood and were almost prepared for the Games.

“Lucy won’t let anything happen to me” Ona states confidently.

She’s sure about what she’s saying, everyone can see it in her eyes. Ona doesn’t blink when she looks at Tony, who seems almost amused by her.

“Do you think so? I don’t see her here for now” he laughs softly.

His laugh is empty, without any fun. He looks like a psychopath in Ona’s mind, but she thinks it’s maybe better not to push him further. He seems close to a mental breakdown.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, showing his sword near Ona’s throat. Ona flinches but doesn’t try to back off. She doesn’t want him to think that he has any power over her.

“I could kill you, right now. She wouldn’t be able to do anything against it.”

He seems so sure of himself, looking at her from above, his smirks talking for him. But Ona has never had so little respect for him since the beginning. The brunette doesn’t even want to fight against him, he’s here standing while she’s sitting on the ground. How can someone’s ego be like this?

“Do you really think so?”

Tony turns around to face the person who just talked and Ona jumps on her feet when she sees them. It’s Lucy. Tony just has time to turn around before being hit right in the face. He falls somewhere near Ona, making her fall back with him.

Ona groans when she hits her head on a tree root, right where she was already hurt. She tries to get away from Tony as fast as possible, but the boy is grabbing her legs for his dear life, trying to drag her to him. But he’s less strong with his arms than he was at the beginning, Ona hurt him there before, and she knows it.

She manages to kick him in the chin, making him go back. Ona goes back on all four, standing again when she thinks that she’s away enough from Tony. He’s bleeding from his mouth and Ona deduces that he might have bitten his tongue.

Just when he was going to jump on Ona, Lucy grabs him by the collar of his jacket.

“Don’t even think about it” she groans, pushing him away.

Lucy is smaller, but Ona has to say that with her anger and the hammer in her hand… She looks impressive. Her green eyes stay on Tony, even when she throws the bow and the arrows at Ona.

But Tony just sneers, arming his hand and his sword before talking again.

“I don’t have any problem to kill you before killing her”

“Aren’t you sick of hearing you?” Lucy snaps.

Ona sees Tony’s face becoming darker, clearly not liking Lucy’s comment. Ona can’t help but smile at Lucy’s comment, the sarcasm of the girl always making her smile. She takes advantage of this little moment to have a better look at her girlfriend. She has blood on her body but doesn’t really seem hurt. She has some cuts on her arms, but nothing seems really bad.

“I’m sick of you” he answers.

Lucy snorts this time, waiting for him to attack first. He’s turning his back to Ona and the younger girl wonders if she should take advantage of it, but it seems to her that Lucy wants to defeat Tony alone. She has something to deal with, beginning with the fact that Tony seems to want what is hers.

The fight starts and is maybe not really fair, Tony has a sword which is longer than Lucy’s hammer, in addition to the fact that he’s bigger and then has bigger movements. But Lucy still manages to hit him several times, using her smaller form to move faster than him.

That was until…

“Wolves!”

Ona scream is a little bit ignored by the two others to be honest, until Lucy spots the urgence in Ona’s voice when she talks again.

“Lucy! Wolves!”

Lucy turns to the direction Ona is pointing, before groaning when Tony takes advantage of it to hit her on the arm. Lucy groans in pain and almost throws her hammer on Tony’s face, helped by the rush of adrenaline.

Just like Ona, she saw the four wolves walking in their direction, in the form of a diamond. They are white and she would probably have found them beautiful if they weren’t explicitly looking for their next meal.

Ona is fully concentrated on the animals, forgetting Tony for several seconds.

Wrong move.

The boy, seeing Ona not far from him, raises his sword once again and hits her right in her stomach. The pain is so intense that Ona isn’t able to say anything. It’s Lucy who screams something that the brunette isn’t able to understand.

She feels someone grabbing her and holding her protectively against their breast, before the person starts to run. Ona doesn’t need a lot of time to recognize Lucy.

“It’s okay, you will be okay” Lucy keeps saying.

Ona doesn’t really understand what is happening when she feels herself being shaken. But she trusts Lucy and if she says that she will be okay, she knows that she will be. It’s only the sound of the canon who makes her open her eyes again.

Her vision is gloomy, but she still can see Lucy’s face right above her very clearly.

“Is he…” she whispers.

“Dead. The wolves…”

Lucy stops her sentence, but she doesn’t have to talk more for Ona to understand. She’s glad that the animals chose the one of the three who will give them the most fresh meat.

“I’m so cold” Ona whispers again.

And it looks like it’s starting to rain. She feels one or two drops of water on her face, seeming strangely hot against her cold skin. But when she looks at Lucy again, she understands. It’s not raining. Lucy is crying.

“I’m dying”

She can only whisper for now, her strength just not here anymore. Lucy shakes her head, but Ona isn’t sure if it’s because she’s answering her that she isn’t, or if Lucy just couldn’t stand the idea.

“It’s okay” Ona whispers. “We are going to be okay”

She concentrates all of her strength to raise her hand and softly strokes Lucy’s face.

Lucy sighs softly when the sun strokes her face softly, sneaking between the blinds she hadn’t correctly closed last night. The sun is not something usual at this part of the year here, but today is a special day. It’s Ona’s birthday.

It has always been a shining day, just like if her dead girlfriend keeps sending her sign, saying that she’s still here. Just like she promised her before dying in the arena, seven years ago.

Lucy rolls on her belly, hiding her face in a pillow. She hates those days, but somehow it makes her heart flutter to see how many people still have clear memories of Ona. And she loves the idea that she isn’t the only one to celebrate with her despite everything.

Lucy just had the time to take a shower and get dressed before someone knocks on the door of her house. But Lucy smiles softly, knowing perfectly who it is. When she opens the door, a small silhouette jumps in her legs and Lucy takes the small girl from the ground to cuddle her.

Laia, Joan and Aitana’s daughter, is Ona’s certified copy. She has the same smile, the same cheeky grin and the same big doe eyes.

After the Games, Lucy made the decision not to come back to her District, but to come leave with Ona’s family instead. She got the Batlle’s approval before coming here, of course. It made several adjustments with the Capitol, but they finally agreed to give her a house in the victory quarter of the 8 and not the 4.

Then she gave the house to Joan and Aitana, choosing to live in Ona’s former flat. It’s maybe not the healthiest way to live her grief and mourn her girlfriend, but like she told her parents, she’s old enough to know what she wants to do.

The Batlle never judged her. They welcomed her into their family, making her feel really integrated in a family for the first time in her life. They maybe aren’t her blood family, but they are her chosen one and she would give them everything.

When Ona’s mother started to call her “Mija”, she understood clearly that the things were reciprocated.

“How are you?” Aitana asks Lucy, hugging her when her daughter finally agrees to go back on the ground.

Lucy just shrugs before accepting Joan’s hug. They are supposed to be at the train station in twenty minutes, to greet Alexia’s family. Like every year, Alexia and Olga are coming here to be with Lucy and the Batlle.

This year they will be here with a new addition though. They welcomed a little girl less than one year ago.

Keeping her promise, Alexia named her Ona.

“Tia I’m hungry”

Lucy looks back at her niece, who crossed her arm on her chest with her signature pout on her face. Lucy feels her heart clenched when she sees one more time a perfect copy of Ona.

“Didn’t you have breakfast?” Lucy smiles at the little girl.

She retains a bigger smile when she sees the girl looking guilty at her parents before answering. She knows that look too.

“Sí… But I’d like a mince pie, please”

“Of course” Lucy laughs softly. “Can I?” she asks Joan.

He nods softly and Lucy leaves for her kitchen to grab what to please her niece. This is something Lucy likes to cook from time to time and Laia loves them. Lucy always has at least one for Laia, no matter what. She still hears Aitana talking while rummaging in her cupboard.

“You can eat it while we are going to the train station, okay? Otherwise, we’ll be late”

The walk to the train station is pretty quiet from Lucy’s side, but the attention of the others is taken by Laia who is happily walking and running around. Ona’s parents join them at some point, and they all walk together to get to Alexia and Olga.

At some point, Ona’s mother grabs Lucy’s arm to link them together. They don’t have to talk, just an exchange of regards makes them understand each other. It is sometimes strange for Lucy to see that another woman understands her easier than her mother ever did.

Lucy misses her niece and her nephew, and she goes from time to time to District 4 to see them, but that's all. Going back there is very difficult for her, every time it’s like she’s separated from Ona once again.

“The train’s coming!” Laia says, pointing at it.

The four-year-old doesn’t wait for anything or anyone before starting to run towards the train.

“Laia don’t run there!”

Joan’s voice is audible by far without any doubt, but Aitana grabs his arm.

“It’s okay. She’s safe” she points out.

“But the train…”

“She’s safe.”

The married couple look at each other before Joan sighs. No one around says anything else, but Lucy understands perfectly. Joan lost her little sister; she was one of the most important people in his life. He might be dead afraid for her daughter, wondering how he can protect her from finding herself in the arena too.

They finally arrive at the train station, catching Laia who is jumping on her feet, waiting for the three people to get out of it.

Lucy can’t help but smile softly when she sees the small baby in Olga’s arms. She knows the two girls perfectly now. She saw her a lot during those last years and Alexia wrote to her every month to exchange news.

She heard a lot about Alexia thanks to Ona, and when Lucy got out of the arena winning, Alexia reached her very quickly. Alexia was devastated to have lost Ona, but she never blamed Lucy for anything. Just like the others finally.

Lucy hates it.

She would like someone who thinks like her. She doesn’t know why she need someone to blame her for Ona’s death, but the understanding and the care she received from anyone is making everything more painful.

Everyone coos while seeing the baby, who seems to have blond hair and light eyes, just like Alexia. To be fair, it’s a very beautiful baby.

“Do you want to hold her?” Alexia asks Lucy.

“Oh… I don’t know” Lucy mumbles.

“Here, take her”

Lucy mumbles something more, but Alexia ignores it prodigiously and softly puts her daughter in Lucy’s arms. The baby is looking at her already when Lucy puts her eyes on her.

A new life, an innocent one that she has to protect too, at any cost.

Like every other year, they went to Ona’s memorial together, putting Ona’s favourite flowers on her statue’s feet. And like every year, Lucy remembers Ona's last words.

“Just live your life. I’ll be waiting for you, wherever I am. Wherever you are.”

She still can hear Ona’s voice perfectly. She’s glad that with time neither her voice nor her face is blurred. She wouldn’t have stood it.

Lucy lost herself in the contemplation of the statue, Ona’s life froze in time. The statue was made by the most talented person in the Capitol, it is really similar to Ona. The colour has been perfectly chosen, whether it’s the colour of her skin, eyes or hair. But Lucy misses her laugh, the warmth of her skin and the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes when she smiles.

“We’re going back, Luce” Ona’s dad says softly.

Lucy turns away from the statue to look at her father-in-law. He has a soft smile and Lucy realises that Olga is just behind him. Lucy nods at him and she needs two seconds to understand why Olga is taking steps to approach her.

She still has Baby Ona in her arms, having cradled her almost unconsciously all this time. The little girl finally falls asleep, feeling easily confident in Lucy’s arms.

“Can I have her back?” Olga smiles.

“Of course! I just… Here” she mumbles, passing carefully the baby in her Mama’s arms.

She misses the warmth of this tiny human against her chest almost immediately. Olga smiles at her a last time and Ona’s father taps her shoulder two times before going to find the others.

“I’m coming. I just…”

“It’s okay. We know.”

Lucy nods and turns to face the statue again. Of course, they understand. It’s the same thing every year. They come together, they spend some time here together. Then everyone leaves except Lucy to go to Joan’s house, where Ona’s mother cooks Ona’s favourite meals. All together.

Alexia was here last year too, 8 months and a half pregnant. Lucy was almost sure that she would give birth on the train back home, but it wasn’t the case.

Lucy always needs alone time here and the others understand perfectly. They never know her when she was younger, those days in the arena changed her a lot. She’s not really smiling anymore, unless she is with Laia. She’s not really talkative either. She’s just here, seeming lost and sometimes so broken inside that the Batlle hate how they are helpless facing the pain of the woman who loved their daughter so much.

“I’m still waiting for you to come and get me” Lucy mumbles to the statue. “It’s been seven years, Ona.”

She’s now sitting on the ground, her knees pressed against her chest and her arms around them.

She doesn’t know where they would've been if Ona was still alive, but to be honest Lucy never asked herself this kind of question. It hurts too much. She doesn’t have any plan, any project now. She just waits.

The amount of money she has every year for being the winner of her Games is enough for her to live. She pays for her apartment; she works with her parents-in-law and uses the rest to buy presents for Laia or the others. The Batlle probably have the most well decorated houses around.

She knows Jana’s family too and she’s kind of friends with Jana’s sister. It’s a strange friendship to be honest, but Bruna is a nice girl. And just like her, she lost someone she loved deeply because of the Games. It makes it easier for them to understand each other.

“If you need me, you just have to look at the sky. I’ll always be here”

It was strange that it was Ona who needed to comfort Lucy when she was the one dying. But with this sentence she keeps looking at the sky. She sees Ona in every star, every planet, every rainbow, every sunset or every dawn.

“You are the best thing that ever happens to me”

Ona was the best thing in Lucy’s life too, so how is she supposed to feel like breathing correctly when Ona isn’t here anymore. It just doesn’t make any sense for Lucy. She was her everything. Now she just has nothing left.

If the Batlle hadn’t taken her in as one of their own, Lucy is certain that she would have given up a long time ago.

Watching Ona’s eyes slowly fade while she kept saying how much she loves her is still something very vivid in Lucy’s mind. She’s glad to have been able to say all those things to Ona, but she would rather be able to tell them again.

Soon, she hopes.

Because there is no world where she could forget Ona, even if she wanted to.

The Happy Ending

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: leya's struggles

authors note: this is super short and not anything major. literally wrote this in like half an hour. i could expound on it if people are interested. just wanted to give some insight to what it was like for roso and leya dealing with her ocd when she was younger.

only gonna tag a few people. if i end up expounding on it, i'll tag my usual "everyone" list.

words: 800

masterlist

warnings: angst, depiction of ocd in children

The sound of horns honking startles both Leya and Tama, the latter of which starts to stir in his car seat, single handedly exacerbating an already nightmare of a situation.

“Hurry up!”

It’s a single voice that’s followed up with several others, all expressing the same level of pressure and rudeness.

Solana is seconds away from marching over to the woman directly behind the suv behind her car when Tama’s soft, sleepy voice serves as a deterrent. “Mama, I wanna go home….”

A shared sentiment, one that makes most sense for him, as he’d either be back in bed by now or cuddled on the sofa with her while he takes a nap. 

Obviously, that’s not an option. 

“I know, baby,” she comforts. Solana does take a step back but instead of acting out of character, she directs her clear, unmistakable command to Jacob. “Shut them up.”

With a nod, Solana only catches his face shifting into that infamous scowl as he walks over to the cars lined up behind her, a line that has to be backed out into the street at this point.

With that handled, Solana moves back to the issue at hand. 

Leya continues to cry, sniffling as her little chest moves up and down. Solana can see the tips of her fingers turning red from the repeated, forceful buckling and unbuckling of her seatbelt.

“Leya….” Solana’s voice breaks. As best as she’s doing to maintain her composure, it’s a slowly losing battle. “Baby, it’s okay. We can g—”

“No!” Leya cries, shaking her head, still not looking at Solana as the concerned mother continues to gently stroke her hair. “I gotta—I gotta do it right, mommy, or something bad will happen!”

“Cataleya, I promise you nothing bad is going to happen, baby.” A reassuring statement she’s had to have stated at least ten times now over the past almost half hour that’s passed since the start of Leya’s episode. “But, you have to get out the ca—”

“No!” Leya begins to cry harder, once again going to remove her seatbelt, counting to three with her fingers before doing it all over again. A repeated, consistent, obsessive act that’s led to the situation they’re in now. A situation Solana has no idea how to handle. This is the first time it’s ever been this bad.

“What’s wrong, Leya?” Tama asks in his sweet voice, worry filling his little face as he tries to comfort her. Unfortunately, that only does the opposite. Leya cries out and jerks her body away, swatting his helping hand, prompting his bottom lip to poke out as he too starts to cry. 

“Leya, please don’t hit your brother.” It’s hard for Solana to be upset with or even scold her daughter, because she knows Leya can’t help it. Knows that it’s only because anyone else’s touch other than hers feels “wrong” to Leya, thus her reacting the way she did.  “Tama, it’s okay, baby boy. Leya just doesn’t feel good.” 

Solana is sure none of them are feeling good, especially herself, her hand moving to her small baby bump as a sudden wave of nausea washes over her.

God please, not right now.

Of all times, not now.

She just can’t handle this.

Solana moves to open the passenger door and reaches over to grab her cell phone out of the cupholder. Shaking, trembling hands move to Roman’s contact, as she too quickly hits the call button.

Three rings followed by a soft, feminime voice. “Mr. Reigns office, how can I—”

“Shit,” Solana curses and closes her eyes. She dialed his office number instead of his personal cell. “I’m sorry, Alicia, this is Solana. I need you to put me through with Roman.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Reigns,” she greets, voice kind but almost unsure. “Ummm—Mr. Reigns is in the middle of—”

“Alicia,” Solana doesn’t hesitate to interrupt. “Get my husband on this line now.”

The woman nervously clears her throat. “Of course.” A pause. “Just a minute.”

And it’s just about a full minute that passes when Solana hears her husband’s deep, baritone voice on the other end. “Solana? What’s wr—”

“I need you to meet me at the school,” she cuts in, emotion in her voice as her eyes start watering all over again. “I can’t—I can’t get Leya out the car. She’s—she’s stuck in a ritual, and I’ve got Tama, and he’s crying, and I can’t—I don’t know what to do.” Her voice breaks at the end, the overwhelming nature of it all finally trampling her

“Mommy, don’t cry,” Tama comforts, eyes focused on Solana from the backseat.

Solana is unsure if Roman can hear their five-year-old, because he’s doing the same, “baby, don’t cry. It’s okay.” It provides some solace but not as much as Solana knowing how to help her daughter could provide. “I’m on my way.”

[solarsturniolo]

wait i wanna hear about this frat boy 🫣

@zebonos GIRLLLL WHERE DO I EVEN START 😭😭

1. all of my friends say he’s ugly (he’s 6’3’’ sue me)

2. he snores SO LOUD

3. he punches and talks in his sleep

4. he has a cocaine addiction

5. he’s a bouncer at a bar that i’m a regular at

6. his head is too small and his eyes are uneven

7. he gets mad and insecure about my attraction to vinnie hacker

8. he is HORRIBLE at communicating (which was the ONE requirement i had when i agreed to let my friend set us up together. I said idc what he looks like, idc if he’s just wanting to fuck, he HAS to be good at communicating)

9. our second time together he marked me with hickies, begged me to stay the night, kissed me on my forehead, told me he wanted a future w me, etc

10. our 4th time together (we were awake for two hours mind you) he said he wanted to marry me 3 times, wanted to have kids with me 2 times, said i love you 4 times, planned what our engagement rings would look like, etc)

11. i ended up fucking his roommate and he had a talk with me about it. (“yeah…he’s a good guy, so much better than i could ever be for you…but whose bed are you in right now?”)

12. held my favorite pair of earrings hostage for a month

13. he does not like when i unadd him on snapchat and will ask ALL of my friends why im mad at him when ive told him i hate using snapchat for communicating bc its cancer.

14. he does not sleep in the dark

15. fucked a girl with an std

16. tried to get with me without telling me he fucked a girl with an std

17. tried to LIE about fucking a girl with an std

18. insane alcoholic. i watched him crush a 24 case of beer in two hours

19. doesn’t acknowledge me unless i’m actively ignoring him

20. he will STARE AT ME AND FOLLOW ME AROUND THE BAR ALL NIGHT if we are there at the same time (my friends have WITNESSED THIS HAPPENING) (( @megamett44-lover ))

21. will text me at 3:00-5:00 in the morning saying he needs to talk about stuff but i’m obviously ASLEEP

22. has not taken me on a proper date. (but he will buy my drinks and offers to buy me food if we go to cookout or mcdonald’s so i guess i can’t complain)

23. sleeps with socks on

24. hogs the blanket

25. doesn’t take out his trash and lets it pile up in his room

26. he has an awful haircut

27. left me alone immediately after sex for 23 minutes to go watch his roommate get his head shaved (no aftercare) and then was confused why i wouldn’t speak to him

28. did i mention he snores? did i also mention i get MAYBE an hour of sleep if i spend the night because its so bad??

29. tries to convince me not to make him use a condom

30. threw a fit one time bc a vinnie hacker edit came up on my phone so, in retaliation, he decided to look at thirst traps and sexual audios on tiktok for half an hour. i told him it was making me uncomfortable and told him to stop about six times and he only did when i threatened to leave.

31. would call me princess after i specifically told him NOT to do that.

32. beer pong with a bunch of his frat brothers is apparently a ‘date’ in his eyes…

33. didn’t acknowledge me at a party we were both attending until his buddy basically told him i wasn’t gonna keep pursuing him lmao

34. got so shit faced at the bar that he kept telling his frat brothers “isn’t she so pretty” “god im with the prettiest girl in (insert city name) right now” “im about to post her on my story” “should i buy her flowers” and i was so uncomfortable that i almost left the bar. (i had told him i wasn’t looking for anything serious and that pda made me uncomfortable)

35. he deadass chugged nyquil in front of me “to help him sleep”

36. has roaches in his bathroom (frat house)

37. refuses to smoke weed but will do 6 lines easy peasy???

38. not smart

39. thinks he can manipulate me (he can’t and it drives him crazy that i don’t fall for it)

40. asked me to find someone (female) to have a threesome with us (every inquiry made the same face before saying “no thanks”)

41. He hyper sexualizes my attraction to women

42. asked me if i’d block every guy in my phone for him (we had been talking for two weeks)

43. he’s an asshole to his dog and calls him mean names and hits his snout and shoves him around

44. he is persistent on trying to get me to blow him (i don’t do blowjobs. he knows this. still tries.)

45. he blew $160 gambling at the bar the night we went out 💀

46. he’s younger than me and extremely immature

47. he thinks listening to chief keef is an unheard of personality trait. (“i know all of the lyrics to Love Sosa” okay, so do 9 million other people)

Dude i could go on and on about this mf he’s WEIRD.

[loopyn3]

Great God Grove spoilers/character discussion ahead!

And some spoiler-y doodles

About Hector because of course it’s about him.

His entire arc is just so melancholic and tragic,

If I may, I’ve been taking a sort of deeper look into his mental goop so-to-speak, and I feel like his jealousy/anger surrounding King can be read in a lot of different contexts. It almost seems like it didn’t stop at simply King being the hot new thing and him being nervous he’d lose his place, but more so the idea that King didn’t have to change all that much about herself to be as deified as she seems. From what we know she’s very confident with herself, her God form even being pretty faithful to how she looks as a human(mentioned in the art book which you should totally go buy, it’s so lovely seeing all the concept art and the commentary is such a treat :]).

Meanwhile it’s kind of implied that Hector really had to claw his way up the spire, working tirelessly to help people, yes, but also to earn his place amongst the gods. He’s stressed out of his mind, he’s always working- I really can’t imagine he was all that stable to begin with in terms of self-identity/worth.

Plus, most if not all his relationships seem to be tied to this one purpose. I can’t imagine the thought of “if I fail I won’t have anything or anybody to go back to.” hasn’t crossed his mind AT LEAST once.

I reblogged a post showing screenshots of Robart and Peeps talking about how, as a human, he tended to act concerningly selflessly, almost seeming desperate. That really doesn’t come across as a normal reaction to just wanting to do good by people, at least not in a ‘normal’ capacity.

Hector, to me at least, comes across as a very self-critical guy. He’s always striving to do good by others… but also to be praised and adored by them. I can only imagine after so many years of toiling away, feeling that pressure building more and more to do well, spending years of his life hoping that he’ll be voted in that he’s sort of lost a piece of himself to this whole process? Something something ship of Theseus.

There’s this thing that happens when a project consumes your life, when it almost seems like your entire life’s purpose is built around this one thing that, once it’s done, it really doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything. What’s left is this sort of numb emptiness, the absence of said purpose.

What are you supposed to do, then? Now that it’s over? Is there anything left for you to do?

Did you even have a purpose in the first place?

So you desperately grasp for new projects, trying to find anything to fill that ever present void that just seems to never go away no matter how many sleepless nights you spend working and working and working-

Or maybe I’m reading too deep into it teehee

Point is, Hector is just so important he is my reason to wake up in the morning he means so much to me asjfkkfksfc ;;;;;

[bubbipond]

Bison had no intention (in the beginning) of being with Kant just as much as Kant/Style had/have no intentions of being with Fadel/Bison. Now this is just my opinion, and in no way, am I trying to be condescending (since I’ve gotten that before when I have made analysis posts). In a general sense, if you are easily defensive, maybe reading people’s opinions is not for you. But if you want to read because you like to read other people’s thoughts, enjoy. ❤️

I am going to use *10 Things as my reference because I think it leans more towards that adaption than it does *Taming. If you haven’t read Taming or watched 10 Things, this may help you understand what a lot of the fandom talks about. For those who have watched or read either of the references for THK we know that the story is that Kat (Fadel) is the impossible sister who will never marry, and that Bianca (Bison) is the sister that everybody wants. In order to get both of his daughter’s married, their father decides to make it a rule that the only way Bianca can get married is if Kat gets married. This leads to the plot of manipulating Kat into being “Tamed” by her love interest in the original text (the movie moves away from this and instead has Patrick love her for who she is).

Going back to Bison, his character reflects that of Bianca; the very popular, beautiful, and wanted little sister (brother). The thing that I think some people are getting wrong about Bison is that he is more of a loverboy than he actually is. In the movie adaption, Bianca has no intention of ever being with Cameron. I’d say she’s not even that into Joey either, just wants the popularity dating him brings. She uses him as a ruse to get Kat to finally date so she can date. In the beginning, she kind of sees Cameron as a cute puppy. Almost like this person that she can manipulate just because she knows they want something from her. She eventually does start to like Cameron, but there are trials that she has to go through to see that. That being said, I don’t think Bison initially wanted to be with Kant. I think much like Bianca he was trying to free himself from what he sees as a lack of freedom and free will.

It’s not that I’m saying he doesn’t want revenge for his parents (he obviously does, but that is seemingly a ruse by “mom” to keep them around). But it is more so that just like Bianca, his brother is an obstacle within itself. The issue here is that he loves his brother (just like Bianca loves Kat) but neither set of siblings truly knows the other. They fight to protect each other, but can’t even do that because how do you protect someone you don’t truly understand? The only person in the reference material who is truly a victim of the plot is Kat (Fadel) as they are the only people in their stories who have genuine feelings for Patrick (Style). At no point is any of it a joke or a game or even a ploy to get what they want. In general, neither Kat nor Fadel are that savvy and both are far too levelheaded to do anything that the other characters do. So when you look at the motivation behind Bison’s attempt at freedom, he has to be far more savvy than anyone around him.

This is because you have to keep in mind that both Bianca and Bison’s goals aren’t to trick or hurt their sibling. They are looking for someone who would love their “difficult” sibling while also getting something in return. Bison didn’t mean for Kant to hire someone to fake like his brother. Just as much as Bianca didn’t ask Cameron to hire someone to fake date her sister. They are both fiercely protective of their older sibling and that is why we constantly see Bison five steps ahead or paying attention to things that even Fadel isn’t. I think what adds to the story is that the stakes are much higher. In 10 Things you have a bunch of high schoolers dealing with pretty high school issues. But in this sense, you have people’s livelihood at stake. So I think it feels like so much more pain is being brought up than in the original media. It’s easier to find fault in Kant, Style, and Bison because we’re watching a bunch of people do pretty terrible things. But I think for this type of story, you have to kind of remove morals because all four are pretty morally gray. None of them are perfect people or, like in the movie, kids.

Anyway, that’s all for me! Bye!

*Taming = Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (play) *10 Things=10 Things I Hate About You (movie adaption of said play).

[poppitron360]

*raises hand slowly* Did… Did anyone want some fluffy Grace Siblings set to the backdrop of my Married Valgrace AU??

— — — — — — — — —

“Do you need any help with that?” Jason asked, looking down at where his sister was crouching, “Reyna’s pretty good at this stuff having lived on Circe’s island-“

“I can handle it on my own,” Thalia said, her tone not quite irritable, but a little flustered. She fumbled the long sheet of silk that hung around Jason’s legs, trying to hoist it up in the customary fashion.

She took a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket and studied it. It was a printed-out screenshot of a Pinterest board, taken from a demigod-safe computer in a New Rome Public Library.

“I’ve fought countless untold horrors,” she muttered to herself, “I’ve slain the unslayable. I’ve completed feats no mortal could possibly accomplish. I should be able to handle a frickin’ toga.”

Despite her frustrations, Thalia was doing very well- all things considered.

She went about pinning down the garment, smoothing the folds perfectly crisp, tucking and pressing the delicate fabric- she was being uncharacteristically gentle as she ran her fingers along the gold embroidery on the hem.

Jason helped where he could- holding the silk in place with his fingers, directing Thalia on where and what to adjust. Eventually they fell into the rhythm of it. There was a quiet sadness to this ritual. Jason could feel his sister grieving for all the moments she had lost with him. All the school uniform collars never smoothed down. All the medals never pinned to lapels. All the ties never tied. She was mourning the loss of a childhood. One they could’ve had together. Where she got to be a big sister.

She clipped the gold broach at Jason’s shoulder to hold the silk in place, and stood back to admire her handiwork.

Jason turned so he was standing in front of the mirror and adjusted the garment.

“Does it look okay?” Thalia asked, glancing at her reference pictures, “I’ve never even worn a toga before, you have more experience than me.“

“It looks great,” Jason assured her.

He turned to his sister. There was so many things he wanted to tell her. So many emotions it was hard to put into words.

Thalia reached a tender, almost motherly hand up to Jason’s cheek, the back of it brushing against the stubble on his chin.

“I can’t believe how much you’ve grown,” Thalia whispered, “It seems you came into this world only yesterday, and now… gods… married?”

She cupped his chin in her palms, and stood on her tiptoes and pressed her forehead against his. A little spark of electricity jumped between their hair. “I am so proud of you, Jason.”

Funny- Jason had worked his whole life trying to make people proud. His father. His friends. Camp Jupiter. They’d awarded him Praetorship and Pontifex Maximus, given him medals and wreaths and titles- but never had anyone said “I’m proud of you.”

And here Thalia was, staring in wonderment of him just standing there, just… existing. Jason hadn’t done anything to make her proud, and yet she was proud all the same. He’d worked his whole life for the approval of others only to realise the love he needed could be given to him unconditionally, by Thalia, by Leo, by the hundreds of friends and found family waiting out there- all for just being himself.

“Oh gods, I’m gonna cry-“ Jason said, hiding his face and wiping his eyes.

Thalia rubbed his back. “Let it out, brother,” she told him.

He fell into her shoulder and buried his nose in her padded suit jacket, letting his face sink into the warmth of his sister’s earthy smell.

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” she patted his arm, soothingly, “Now we should probably get going. You’ve got a man to marry.”

“You’re right,” Jason stood up. Thalia handed him a tissue, which he accepted and used to wipe his eyes.

Then he took a deep breath, and grabbed the door handle.

— — — — — — — — —

So! You all apparently loved my Married Valgrace AU. And if you didn’t… I loved my Married Valgrace AU. This is another little vignette set in the same world, or in any other world where Jason gets married! The fact that it’s Leo he’s marrying only comes up once, so feel free to swap it out for whoever you want in your head. This is just a short little bit of Grace Siblings fluff to keep the gremlins fed while I’m away for the holidays. Their siblingship is everything to me.

Also, for the record, Leo is doing the exact same thing with Nyssa in the other room.

Basically tagging my usual tags + anyone who left a nice comment on the Married Valgrace AU:

@ottpopfic @ginnyluna @groverapologist @echo-stimmingrose @demigod-shenanigans @lavenderfairiez @keefessketchbook @sleepyycapybara @euryvices-deactivated20241019 @123letsgobestie @kaleidoskuls @fairytalesociology @four-leafed-queer-gal @child-of-helios @green-tea217 @puzzled-pegasus @ollieisanerd @twomanyfandomshelp @lokiwiiiiiii @yoshuko-ew @keefessketchbook @xixovart @frayna-of-the-hollow @via-rant @daonedaonlyskh @hadeslegacyhephgirl @siimplyapril @pjowasmy1stfandom

[xiaominghao]

Too early for Christmas

Genre: fluff, crack ??

Pairing: Minghao x reader.

Warnings: barely proofread, this was funnier in my head, babygirl Minghao.

Yuin's note: At first I thought about writing this for Mingyu but the idea of Hao being such a loser was more apealing (I'm sorry Hao).

Hao, is that you?” you asked loudly, the front door had slowly closed and you didn’t hear anything else. There was no response. “Minghao?”

You heard a sound coming from the living room and thinking it was the TV or some video, you overlooked it. However, it was a little strange how quiet he was. As you walked toward the living room, Minghao was facing away from the kitchen entrance, right in front of the Christmas tree that was in the corner.

You cleared your throat to get his attention, and that made him shrug, slightly turning his head and giving you an awkward smile.

“Hello, darling,” he said in a trembling voice, “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Hi…” you greeted slowly, suspecting that something was going on. “Yeah, well. I just came to say that lunch is almost ready, can you help me with…?”

You heard the same noise as before, loud and clear. It was a bark and sounded very close; you glanced towards the TV but it was off, then looked back at Minghao, who swallowed hard as he gave you an even more awkward smile.

“Hao…” you stared at him seriously, crossing your arms. “Please tell me it's not what I think it is.”

He turned completely towards you, his head bowed as if he were guilty of something while cradling to his chest a small puppy with a large red bow tied around its neck.

He slowly lifted his gaze and swallowed hard, you stood there with your arms crossed and both eyebrows raised. “Um… Merry Christmas?”

“It’s too early for Christmas,” you replied, stepping forward defiantly, making him shrink back a little more.

“Merry… Christmas Eve?”

“Hao…”

He sighed deeply and straightened up firmly, giving a more serious air, as he usually does.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I know I was the one who said ‘no pets in the apartment,’” he defended calmly, but suddenly his expression changed. “But how could I say no to these little eyes and these tiny paws!?”

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend!?” you exclaimed, pointing your finger at him. “Xu Ming Hao wouldn’t be swayed like that!”

“Surprise, he did!”

“Get out right now and return it!”

“No!” Hao frowned as if you had said the most offensive phrase in the world, hugging the puppy like a spoiled child protecting his toys. “She was given to me by a sweet old lady who was giving puppies up for adoption. I promised I would take good care of her.”

“I’m sorry,” you crossed your arms again, not wanting to back down. “I can’t promise that.”

Hao tilted his head a little and with pouty face, he looked you straight in the eyes. “Would you do it for me?”

Your pulse quickened a little, your chest tightened. You still stood there with a straight face, but you didn’t feel as firm as before; you were really weak when it comes to him, too much to admit it.

Hao moved a little closer and gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Would you do it for me?” His voice low and sweeter than ever.

Seeing that you weren’t saying a word, he brought his face just inches from yours, his lips almost brushing against yours. “Would you do it for me?”

You swallowed hard and shyly turned away, averting your gaze so he wouldn’t see how flushed your face was and a loud growl escaped from your lips. “What name should we give her?”

Hao approached you and happily kissed your face repeatedly; he was feeling like the happiest man in the world. You were still a bit annoyed but seeing him so smiley made your heart ache in love.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured, turning your back to him.

“And you’re hopelessly in love with me,” he whispered in your ear, hugging you from behind to give you a little kiss on the shoulder. “Now, shall we lunch?”

“Sure, just let me… Why does my slipper feel cold?”

Both of you looked down, and the puppy was sitting by your foot, staring at you intently.

“Hao…”

He sighed to stifle a laugh. “Leave it to me.”

[klitzy-please]

Missing, But Not In Action

Leon Kennedy x Choir teacher! Reader

SFW; fluff: angst; not thoroughly proof read

Author’s Note: Haiii! Klitzy here! I’m so sorry if this seems a bit chopped, I’ve been busy and only had certain times to work on it! I hope y’all enjoy, and please put what y’all’s thoughts (and prayers) in the comments if comfortable enough to do so!

You pace back and forth, just waiting. You keep calling the DSO, but they keep telling you the same thing. ‘We have this under control, Y/N.’

You don’t believe them, you can’t believe them. If they had this under control, he’d be in your arms, kissing your face off before work, he’d be there helping you with breakfast as you brushed your hair and teeth. He’d just be there.

You tried calling his cell, but you still got that same result.

‘Hey, it's Leon, leave a message.’

Oh, how you hate his job.

You checked the clock, reading 6:30. Shit. If you stayed in that living room, you’d be even more late for work if you mopped in your living room any longer. You grab your bag and hurriedly rush out to your car, keys jingling as you trot hurriedly.

Getting into the metal box, you start the ignition and speed out of that driveway. You and Leon were lucky enough to find this cute little Victorian era house that had about an acre of land around it that served as your yard. The two of you wanted children, hell, you wanted to put. Anything in that yard. He even got you a puppy on your first anniversary of dating. The house was close enough to your job and it was basically out of your dreams. Your whole life was almost actually. Beautiful house, a hot and loving husband, a job you can’t get enough of, everything was perfect, other than what your husband does. for work.

You couldn’t help but think about what he was doing, you knew that if Leon got enough booze in him, he’d drunkenly cry about it to you, but right now, he wasn’t home. He wasn’t in your arms and he wasn’t drunk off of the new bottle of Jamison’s you bought initially for yourself.

Your train of thought was fought off by your phone ringing. It was hunnigan.

You pick up the phone hesitantly. “H-hunnigan..? Why are you calling me? Did something happen?” Your breath hitched in fear and anticipation.

You could hear her sigh “We found him… or at least a sign of him. I could be wrong, but it seems that we should be able to get connected to him soon.” Hunnigan swallowed hard. She was also a bit uneasy about this, but for different reasons.

“Well I don’t know if that’s a good thing… he should’ve been home by now.” Your eyes dart around as you park your car in the “teacher of the year’ spot. “Wait.. how do you know it's actually him?”

“Well, we don’t truly know. But what we do know is that it's in the area that he was sent to…” Hunnigan swallowed hard. “Look, I’m not supposed to say anything, but it’s Leon we are talking about. The mission was a domestic one. Ergo, he’s still in the states… We might be able to get something out of that…”

“You’re actually serious, right? Please tell me you are.” Your lips start to bleed from all of the nervous biting you’ve been doing.

“Yes, I am… I’ll get back to you once I have more information…” Hunnigan clears her throat. “How did you know it was me calling?”

You relax a bit. “I’ve been calling the DSO so much, they just gave me your personal number… I could ask you the same actually.”

Hunnigan chuckled. “Well, I looked through Leon’s emergency files… you were listed as the spouse there. Also, I’m not going to ask why they gave you my personal…”

“Noted… hey, I’ll get back to you later. Please tell me what all you can. I really can’t spend another night not knowing if he’s safe or not.” You tried to stable yourself and swallowed your tears to your best abilities.

The two of you bid your farewells and then hang up. Now, all you have to do is go clock in, check your mailbox, answer emails and get all of your music sheets organized for the 6 periods you teach in a day.

You sit down in your empty classroom in silence. You don’t even want to check your emails, your eyes dart to the pictures of Leon that sat on your desk that was encased in a cute metal frame. It was one of the first dates you ever had with him. You were looking for some vinyls to add to your collection and funny enough, Leon was in that same exact music store looking for some cds for his new (and soon to be totaled) car.

You can’t help but gain a bitter-sweet smile on your face.

Before you knew it, the bell had rung. It was homeroom day… yay.

The bell rang long and a group of kids started to pile in just as always. You sat down at the piano like you’ve done the past a decade you’ve been teaching here.

A tall, blonde kid walks into the class, eyeing you. He’s a junior if you are correct. He’s in your 6th period.

“Mrs. Kennedy?” The kid asks you.

Your mouth opens and then closes. “Uhm.. What's up ,sport?” You ask awkwardly.

He gives you a look before handing you a piece of paper. It’s a permission slip. You nod your head at him and he takes a seat in his respective spot. you can’t help but look at it, to be fair you forgot the kid’s name. It was something that sounded familiar enough.

You read the paper to see the kid’s name. Leo Kents.

L.K..

—————————————————————————————————————

‘L—Le—Leon-n-n!’ Leon’s comm rang as he tried to go somewhere with service. There was an outbreak in rural appalachia. Close enough for him to get home in 3 hours or sped fast enough. He grabbed the thing and proceeded to bang it on his thigh.

“Hunnigan?!” Leon yelps.

“Oh thank g——————safe.” Hunnigan beeped through.

Leon’s brows furrowed. “What? I… I can’t understand what you are saying…. Ah hell, the job’s done… I’m going home.” Leon put the device in his pocket after turning it off, he needed to get a car…

—————————————————————————————————————

It was about 12 in the afternoon and your lunch would be finished in about half an hour. All you could do was stare at your phone. You knew that they’d find him. Hunnigan promised! Right? I mean she told you that they found a sign, so the possibilities are endless.

You sighed exasperatedly as someone knocked on your door. You looked up to see a head pooping up to look through your window. As you stood to see who it was, a second head of hair popped in the window also, at that point, all you could do was chicken to yourself.

“What is it? Shouldn’t you be at lunch or something?” You lean against the door frame looking at the girls expectantly.

The girl first spoke. “We came to tell you our song choices for S/E. You told us that you’d get back to us by December, and here we are.”

Your eyebrows raised as you nodded your head. “I did say that, didn’t I? So, why is it that y'all came to me instead of vice versa?” The two girls blushed at the question which was more of a statement than anything.

“Well, we wanted to go over the ideas. We have many but we mainly have two to show you.” You boy finally piped up. The girl gave you a nod, agreeing.

You sigh and move out of the way so they could come in until it was time for their next class or however long it took them to go over the songs with you.

You start to read the music sheets that they provided you, all you could do was look at them in shock.

“Seriously? I understand ‘As the snow begins to fall”, but ‘When I am laid in earth’?’ You blinked at them in surprise.

The boy chuckled, almost like he knew you’d say that. It was a very odd mix of two songs with two very different voice ranges.

You sighed and shook your head. “If that’s what makes you happy.”

You put down the sheets into your fabric covered lap. All you could do was give these kids a weak smile. At this point, you just wanted them out of your room. You didn’t have to deal with these two and their jokes for another two periods and all you wanted was just a break.

The pair looked at you with looks of triumph and satisfaction. They finally bid their adues and went out of your classroom.

The second they walked out, You ran to your cell to check for any more calls. None.

You bit your bottom lip hard. When in the hell would she call you back?

—————————————————————————————————————

“Baby cakes?!” Leon practically screeched as he ran into the house. Stupidly, he came from the back door. Somehow, he found a ride that’d take him to the gas station closest to your place.

He rummaged through each and every room he could, looking for you. All he could do was yell and scream out your name. He needed to find the love of his life. His world.

The only thing that stopped him was the sound of Hunnigan tapping back in.

“Hunnigan?” Leon barked.

“Leon?! Where are you?! Did the assignment go through well?” Hunnigan shot questions at him quicker than an auctioneer could even talk. This, of course, made the infamous agent chuckle.

“I’m back home… I was looking for Y/N. And yes, it was completed. Once I get to my wife, I’ll be in shortly to put in the documents… though I think back up could easily finish that.”

Hunnigan gave him a glaring look through the screen. “Well they are only there for clean up. You, on the other hand, are the person who was sent in to get the information needed and take out whoever was wanted. But I’m sure your wife and the safety of the country must come first. I bet our boss would just love that!” She quipped, making Leon sour.

“Well, I bet she’s pulling her hair out of her head at the moment… It’s only for a few minutes, she at least deserves that much. And besides, she doesn’t answer her phone at work often.” Leon tried to reason.

Hunnigan leaned back into her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Well one of those few times must’ve been today. I talked to her.”

Leon’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?! Is she okay?”

“Leon… She’s more worried than anything. You haven’t been home. I think she’s a bit desperate.” Hunnigan chuckled. “Hell, she is desperate. She got whoever to give her my personal cell!”

Leon laughed at the mention of your sudden desperation.

“Look, I’ll just put in that you are en route to the main office.” Hunnigan started clicking away at her keyboard.

Leon smiled, relieved that he could at least do this. It was almost rewarding.

—————————————————————————————————————

You reread the score in front of you, making sure to play it just right this time. The students sat there quietly, some murmuring about the sudden and rare fatigue, others, zoned out, reading over their own sheets of music.

Your eyes closed as you sighed out of your nose. ‘You got this’, you told yourself.

your fingers played around on the keys, re-warming them up. You hit the starting notes, the time signature being pentatonic and a 3/2. Suddenly, the rhythm came to an abrupt stop. The students looked up at you as you waited for their expected gazes.

“Open to the beginning of the song, but go to the last measure.” You chirped as you brushed the bangs of your hair to the side, studying the way your hands rest on the piano. As if you were programmed, your fingers fell onto the keys, playing the melody of the music.

Your playing almost took you away from reality, from the aching pain of a very long period of not seeing your husband, from the aching pain that your life just loves to inflict. The sound of the piano brought you to a bit of peace as you ended at a different measure. You look at the children, who were closing their folders and putting them up. All you could do was give them a small smile. It was just about the end of the period.

You stayed. Silent as you watched them get up to the sound of the bell as if they were robots, moving to commands. You silently waved goodbye as they curtly walked out, one-by-one.

The second the last kid walked out, your face dropped. You turned back around, you sighed as your head fell into your hands. No call from hunnigan, no Leon, nothing.

“Why did I get myself into..?” You silently mumbled.

You shot up as you looked at the ceiling. You sniffed, holding back your tears. You had students coming in at any minute. You couldn’t just let them see you like this, they didn’t need to see you fret.

You sat there on the bench, basking in the loneliness that you didn’t know would be interrupted sooner than you were hoping for.

There was a knock on the wooden door frame, making you jump.

You quickly scrambled to your feet, flattening out your skirt and fixing your sweater. You twirled around with a hopefully convincing smile plastered on your face.

You opened your mouth, trying to cover up what you were just doing, as though it would paint you a good excuse. Let’s just hope they weren’t there for long.

“Hey! How can I-” your smile faltered as you stared at the taller, tired being in front of you. “Oh my god…”

Suddenly, your eyes filled with tears, threatening to ruin your perfect makeup.

Leon smiled as he hoisted himself off of the frame, making his way towards you.

“My sweet girl, oh how I’ve missed your ass!” He opened up his arms, just as he always did.

You sauntered towards him, grabbing him and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I… I thought you were dead? You left me!” You choked on your sobs out of relief, anger, and sorrow.

Leon felt his heart cave. He really did make you worry your head off, he really did put you through that.

He chuckled out of relief. “Well I’m here now, ain’t I? It’s okay, I’m here, I’m safe. We both are together.”

You know that he was right, but the feeling of him not being there lingered. You prayed that it was real, that he was actually holding you and not just some dream.

But this was no dream, he was actually here in your arms. Now, you could go back to your usual routine of drinking coffee on the back porch and watching old westerns as you ate breakfast on the weekends. Just for this little bit, your life would be normal. You knew to hold onto this little bit. Because soon enough, your Scottie would be gone again.

[raven-dor]

could you do a fred weasley ii story please? where they both like each other but it's painfully obvious that they do, but both of them won't do anything.

love your writing BTW!!

LOVED THIS REQUEST!! this is getting posted this TUESDAY at 4pm EST, so keep an eye out!!

until then, here's a sneak peak of close to you...

“Fred.” 

A beat of silence. “Everything alright, love?” 

“Can you-” She took a deep breath. “I need your help.” 

“With?” His voice sounded tight. 

“The dress… I can’t-” She huffed, picked up the front of the dress, and walked out of the dressing room. “The lacing...” Fred just stared, and her heart started racing. “Stop looking at me like that.” He stepped forward, his eyes dangerously full of mischief. 

“Turn around.” 

“Excuse me?” She tilted her head. 

“The lacing.” He whispered. “Turn around.” 

“You picked the perfect dress, Freddie.” 

He smiled to himself, tightening the laces once more before tying a bow. “It’s nothing…” She turned around, and he realized how serious this moment had become. “You look like the moon itself.” She laughed, actually laughed. He almost glared, here he was complimenting her, and she laughed at him. “What’s so funny?” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you looked so serious when you said it.” 

“Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping on his face. “Well, remind me to never compliment you again.” 

“No!” She begged. “Please, don’t.” 

“Fine, fine.” Somehow his arm had found its way around her waist, and time seemed to stand still. “You’ve convinced me.” 

“What are we doing?” She whispered. “This-” 

“Y/N.” His eyes were desperate. “I need to kiss you now. Is that- okay?” 

She nodded her eyelids lulling. “Yes.” 

“I- I’m going to-” 

“Fred just kiss me.” Her voice was ruder than she intended it to be, her eyes widening. “I only-” 

“I don’t think we should.” He whispered. “It would only-” 

Tears pricked at her eyes. “Can you undo the laces please?” 

He nodded. “I’m sorry-” 

“Fred, just do it.” Her voice was harsh, and his fingers fumbled with the strings. “And don’t apologize to me. We both wanted to, just…” The dress was loose, barely holding it up as she turned around. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.” 

“I-”

“Promise me!”

“I promise.” 

She shoved past him, pulling the curtain shut. “I think you should leave.” 

“Y/N…” 

“Fred, go away.” 

Her tone dripped with venom. He’d never heard her sound that betrayed, more angry, and it made him want to stay even more, to help her and make up for his cowardice. “Love, let me-” 

“Just stop!” She pushed away, shutting the curtain. “I think it’s best if we take a break.” 

“A break?” His voice sounded nervous. Good, she wanted him to squirm like she just had. “From what?” 

“Whatever this is Fred. I’m tired of it.” She walked out of the dressing room, glaring at her best friend. “I have feelings for you and I can’t- I can’t be around you like this. So please just don’t talk to me.” 

She stormed out of the shop, leaving Fred alone with his thoughts. He was empty, he realized. It was stupid: honestly, the most foolish thing he’d ever done, backing out of something he knew he had wanted to do for ages. She was right, he was a coward. How many, he asked himself, could stand in the face of perfection itself and not crumble? He pushed open the curtain, frowning at her dress thrown on the ground. 

“Excuse me?” He stood up, turning around to see an older witch looking at his with evident concern. “Is everything alright?” 

“I’d-” He took a deep breath, folding the dress delicately. “I’d like to buy this dress please.” 

The older witch smiled, leading him to the register. “She’s very lucky.” 

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m the lucky one.”

[dixonsbrat]

❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

is so fucking rosita espinosa coded PLEASE i’m dying for vee’s rosita rn take all my money 💥💳

── .✦  𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ┆ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐚

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; you get injured while on a supply run with rosita and she patches you up

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; established relationship, girlfriend!reader x rosita espinosa, mentions of walkers, blood, injuries, death, gore.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 1.2k .ᐟ

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; i’m actually so obsessed with rosita that this ended up being way longer than i intended it to be .ᐟ

you don’t feel it as it happens, not until after the small group of walkers has been taken out, laying on the ground before you in a bloody, gory mess.

rosita stands on the other side of the pharmacy, blowing the hair from her face and wiping the sweat from her hands as her eyes lower to your arm and then widen with realisation.

“oh, god. your arm,” she points to the gash across your limb, a small trickle of blood running down your skin.

“wha-shit,” you grimace, inspecting the new injury and then to the broken glass that was beside you, “i must’ve cut it when the walkers attacked.”

rosita is by your side within moments, stepping over the now permanently dead walkers to study your wound. she takes your arm in her hands, turning it gently to assess the damage. her touch is soft, careful, almost like she’s afraid she’ll hurt you even more. “it looks deep. not deep enough to need stitches though,” she remarks, a slight frown on her face. “does it hurt at all?”

“no, not really. at least not right now,” you shake your head. you both knew that it was only a matter of time before the adrenaline that was coursing through your body from fighting off the walkers would wear off and the pain would start to kick in, but for now, rosita was just grateful that you weren’t in too much pain.

she gives you a small nod, still clearly concerned. “let’s get you cleaned up before it gets infected. there’s who knows what on this broken glass.”

you watch as she glances around the pharmacy with a thoughtful look on her face before turning towards the shelves and beginning to rummage through anything and everything to find some antiseptic and something to clean it with. she eventually finds a clean rag, a couple band-aids and a small unopened bottle of rubbing alcohol tucked away in an old storage cupboard in the corner and returns to your side.

“sit,” she instructs, gesturing for you to take a seat beside her as she sits down on the ground. the tone of her voice is authoritative but soft, and you can’t help but do as she says.

“yes, ma’am,” you respond jokingly, your lips curling into a slight smirk as you sink down beside her.

rosita rolls her eyes, fighting the urge to smile as she begins to unstopper the bottle and tips a little bit of the liquid onto the cloth. “i’m trying to save you from an infection, smartass. this is a very serious matter, now shut up and let me look at it.” her tone is teasing, her words light, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes that she only ever seemed to have for you.

“i’m sorry, you’re right. this is a very serious matter,” you match her teasing tone, nodding your head while fighting the urge to smile.

the corner of her mouth twitches, a smile fighting to take over her face and she lets out a sigh of mock annoyance, “can’t have you dying from infection, can we?”

you hum, “mmm, don’t know how you’d ever go on without me.”

she grins, gently taking your injured arm in her hands and gingerly lifting it up to examine the wound more closely. it’s a good thing that she was so focused on cleaning and patching you up now, or she might have noticed the way your eyes followed her fingers as they gently caressed your skin.

“hold still. this might sting a little.” she meets your eyes for confirmation and you nod, bracing yourself.

the alcohol wipes over the cut, and just as rosita had warned, the sensation was painful and stung like hell, but she moved gently and efficiently to ensure that every part of it was free from dirt. you grimace slightly, letting out a small hiss which makes her eyebrows knit together with concern and she gives your arm a firm squeeze as a silent apology.

“almost done,” she continues to clean the wound, her touch is delicate and precise, but also careful not to cause you any more pain. her face remains expressionless, though you can see the clear look of concentration in her now narrowed eyes.

you can’t help but watch her as she meticulously tends to your wound, as if caring for you came so naturally to her.

eventually, she sets aside the cloth with a small huff of satisfaction, studying the wound and letting out a sound of contentment that it was now free from dirt and filth. it was still raw, and it would probably sting for a while longer, but at least it was clean.

her eyes flicker up to meet yours and she smiles, placing the band-aids over the wound, “just one last finishing touch,” she says and presses a gentle kiss to it, giving your arm another small squeeze before letting it fall back into your lap. “there, all better.”

your heart flutters at the gesture, your eyes not leaving her for a moment, “my hero.”

“shut up,” she rolls her eyes, leaning back against the wall as she glances down at your arm, just to make sure your blood wasn’t seeping through the bandages, and to hide the light crimson on her cheeks.

there’s a small comfortable silence between the two of you, and for a moment you both just sit there, breathing the same air, relishing in the other’s presence for a few more minutes before you finally speak, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“it’s good and all, but you did miss one thing,” you raise your brows as you slowly shake your head.

rosita tilts her head to the side, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, “and what is it exactly that i missed?”

you lean a little closer, your eyes wandering her features. taking in the deep brown of her eyes and the way her lips curl into a small smile. “you missed something… right here,” you point to your lips.

she lets out a scoff, her eyes darting from your lips to your eyes then back again, “guess i’ll have to fix that then, won’t i?”

you nod, your smile widening, "definitely."

“you’re insufferable, you know that.” she shakes her head, but doesn’t ask it, she states it, leaving you no room to argue. though despite her words she can’t keep the smile off of her face as she brings a hand up to cup your cheek. her touch is soft, just as it had been while she was tending to your wound, and her thumb gently brushes across your skin, her eyes never leaving yours.

“yeah, but you love me,” your voice is low, managing to get the last word out just before she closes the space between you both.

“unfortunately, you’re right.” she murmurs against your mouth, a soft huff of laughter escaping through her nose as her lips continue to move against yours.

her free hand comes up to grasp your chin, angling your head to deepen the kiss and a small hum of contentment escapes her. when she pulls away, she lets her forehead rest against yours for a moment, before taking in a deep breath. “satisfied now?”

you nod, and hum with approval, “very.”

“good.” she sighs, pulling away and standing to her feet before offering you a hand to do the same, “now c’mon you, we should get moving before it gets dark.”

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

wow I hate everything abt the world

[greyhavensking]

do I think bleach is a good manga, narratively speaking? no

did I enjoy reading it anyway? absolutely