#and he's got a little brother that's about a thousand times smarter than him

[goodlucktai]

name your courage now

one piece word count: 2k pairing: usopp & luffy my piece for the @opfluffzine ! @beasttrash drew some absolutely lovely art to go with my fic, go take a look if you'd like ! title borrowed from the moon will sing by the crane wives read on ao3

x

When Usopp was seventeen, he met a man who made him feel small. 

It wasn’t the first time in his life someone looked at him and found him wanting. But it was the first time elevator eyes and a sneer had caused a deep pang of uneasiness to take up residence in his gut.

“This guy?” the stranger had said to Luffy, incredulous. “Come on, you can tell just by looking between us that I have more to offer than he ever could.”

He was trying to cozy up to the rookie captain already making a name for himself across the blues. He wanted to tag along, take the easy street to adventure and infamy. He couldn’t seem to understand why Usopp, of all people, had a spot, while he didn’t. 

Until that point, Usopp had never had any compunctions about his own physicality. He had a runner’s body, lithe muscle that got him from Point A to Point B swiftly, and the excellent cardio required to scream every step of the way. He would never try to go toe-to-toe with someone like this man—a little taller than Zoro, a little broader in the shoulders, more muscled than the nineteen-year-old former pirate hunter by virtue of being about a decade older. 

But Luffy’s first mate had a devil in him that made him an actual walking natural disaster. This stranger just seemed like the type of bully who was used to using his size to get what he wanted, and his handsome, chiseled face when brute force failed him. 

Luffy had looked at the man the way Usopp imagined the sun might look at a satellite, a glancing interest in this tiny, inconsequential thing that decided to cut boldly across his view. 

Then he looked at Usopp and the shape of that regard changed completely, all warmth and light and safekeeping—the sun looking at one of its planets, Luffy looking at someone who was his. 

Usopp knew how special it was to have that sunlight in his life. He knew better than to think, even for a second, that the special one was him. 

“Who are you?” Luffy said plainly, as if he hadn’t been present for the introductions that had happened literal minutes before. 

The stranger’s face flushed with humiliation, and Zoro’s low chuckle rumbling around them like thunder certainly didn’t help. 

“Shall I get rid of him, captain?” Zoro said with a courteousness that felt dangerous in the moment. 

Luffy, as petulant as any spoiled little brother or soon-to-be king, said, “Just get him out of the way! Usopp was telling a story.”

The stranger chose to take himself out of the way, proving he was at least a little smarter than most wannabe big shots they bumped into. Even after he had disappeared down the road—even after the encounter had drifted back into the company of one thousand other encounters that wouldn’t even make it into the footnotes of their crew’s grand tale—that oily uncertainty remained in Usopp’s stomach. 

Looking back, it was stupid. But it was the first time Usopp felt worried that his place could be snatched away; that someone more deserving could take his spot. 

He knows that he’s lucky, that fate decided to be kind to him that day it brought his future right to his front door. He knows he never would have mustered the courage to go meet his destiny on his own, because Usopp was a runner, and a coward, and only as strong and fast as he needed to be to race away from danger, not towards. 

Then his family was ripped apart. Then Luffy suffered, alone and out of his reach. Usopp clutched a newspaper in hands that shook and imagined, for one second, a world without Luffy’s sunny smile. 

He needs me, Usopp thought. It wasn’t a lie to bolster himself in a moment of crippling insecurity. It wasn’t an act of silly, self-important grandeur to make Nami scoff or Chopper giggle or Sanji roll his eyes. It was a frightening, heavy thing to hold, something he was halfway tempted to put down, and that’s how he knew it was the truth. That’s how he knew he had to keep holding it. 

Usopp worked hard on himself in those two painful years apart, let himself go and then dragged himself back kicking and screaming. He has plenty to show for it, his body a machine as trustworthy as the ones he and Franky build together in their workshop. Just let someone try to take his nakama away again. 

I could carry any one of you, he thinks sometimes, gazing at them over drinks or under the stars, feeling settled in his skin and bones in a way he never was before. If you needed me, I'm strong enough to carry you now.

They meet that man again one more time, when Usopp is twenty.

On the main street of a city they’re poking around for the afternoon, they stumble upon a seaside restaurant's soft opening. Sandwich board menus planted in the street boast cheap specials for couples due to some local holiday. 

Usopp and Luffy lock eyes, and grin, and slide into each other’s space with the ease of people who have put their lives in each other’s hands on the regular. When they amble up to join the queue, they don’t get any second glances.

The shape of Luffy against Usopp’s side is familiar. His hair is stiff, starched with sun and sea salt, but it bends to Usopp's whims when he finger-combs it back into waves. 

Luffy isn’t handsome in a textbook way, isn’t pretty the way people like Vivi and Cavendish are, but he stops strangers in their tracks regardless. Gazes linger where he goes, maybe because humans at a base level can tell when a god is walking with them. 

Or maybe it’s his huge brown eyes. Even odds, Usopp decides, grinning when Luffy pushes into his touch like a pampered pet monster. 

“If we don’t have enough for the bill we can just run away,” Luffy says none too quietly, because he’s very much a product of the two half-feral older brothers who raised him.

“We’ll have enough,” Usopp reassures, even though he’s not entirely sure. Things will work out one way or another. He's learned from the best, after all, and while he’s no Nami, he can charm a few hundred bellies off the bill at the very least. 

Their chatter attracts attention. One of the two girls holding hands in line ahead of them scoffs, good-humored, and her partner giggles. A man walking down the street does a double-take and stops in his tracks.

Usopp recognizes him, even if it takes a minute. He’s smaller than Usopp remembers. The years haven’t been kind, weathering away his roguish good looks. Now he wouldn’t stand out of a crowd one way or another. 

In a split second, Usopp can see the spark of something like blame in his eyes. He looks like he’s about to start a fight.

“Hey, Lu, I bet they’ve got free samples up at the front,” Usopp says, giving his captain a nudge. “Get us something good, I'll save our spot in line.”

“Good idea!” Luffy’s off like a shot, thankfully barreling around the queue of customers instead of through it. Usopp spares a moment of sympathy for the waitstaff if there aren’t actually any samples up there and then turns his attention back to the stranger. 

Usopp folds his arms and sets his shoulders back, a broad wall between Luffy and this guy who thinks he has a right to ruin their fun day off. 

“For all you know, we’re on a date,” he says dryly. “Make it quick.”

“I just don't get it,” he says, jaded and unhappy with whatever turns his life has taken. “Why did he take you with him? What makes someone like you so special?”

“Yeah, you really don’t get it,” Usopp replies, not unkindly. 

None of us were special until he picked us out of the blues and made us that way, he could say. He saw something in us that no one else did, that hadn’t even existed yet, he could try to explain. Maybe we just got lucky. 

But there’s more to it than that. That’s only half the truth. 

They chose Luffy, too. And that’s not a small thing. It’s not simple, or easy, or a choice they only had to make once. Luffy picked them, and they picked him right back, and all the hard work that came with him. 

Every so often, when his friends are being noisy and annoying, Usopp thinks I would do anything for them and he means it . He would fight tooth and nail to stay at their side. He would cling with his last breath to Luffy's flag. Even when it hurts. Even when he’s scared. 

There is nowhere else that he belongs, Usopp realized one day, and it’s the truth. It’s something he made true, over and over and over again. Maybe he did get lucky that day Luffy happened to meet him. 

But maybe Luffy got lucky, too. 

“I put in the work,” Usopp finally settles for saying. “This is how far it got me. I’m nowhere near done yet.”

The man scoffs, but it doesn’t have the condescending edge it did the first time they met. When he sizes Usopp up again, it’s not nerve-wracking the way it would have been once. 

If Robin was there to make it really funny, Usopp would say excuse me, my eyes are up here, like he does in dive bars when flirty strangers get a little too close for comfort, only to shriek in alarm at the extra ice blue eyes staring unblinkingly at them from Usopp’s face. 

The man glances over Usopp's shoulder and quickly withdraws himself from their conversation. Usopp didn’t need his obvious reaction to tell him that Luffy is scampering back, because his passive observation haki is finely tuned to his captain’s presence at all times. That, and the audible oof from a stranger in the crowd who didn’t dive out of Luffy’s path in time not to get trampled over was kind of a giveaway. 

“Oh, score,” Usopp cheers when he sees what is probably six times the suggested number of samples for any one customer clutched in Luffy’s hands. 

Luffy is watching the stranger depart, a confused frown on his face. He looks back and Usopp meets his eyes easily, a smile already curling the edges of his mouth because he knows what’s coming. 

Sure enough, his best friend says, “Who was he?”

The line moves up and now they’re within line of sight of the hostess podium, so Usopp resumes their fake date by slinging an arm around Luffy’s waist. He squeezes playfully, and Luffy actually squeaks in surprise like a rubber monkey, then bursts into bright peals of ringing laughter. 

It settles over the street the way sunlight falls on everything, casting the world in warm, rich gold.  

“He was nobody worth worrying about,” Usopp says, wishing he could say it to himself at seventeen.

Usopp used to be a liar and could even trick himself into thinking he was somehow worth standing next to his friends, the brilliant, incredible people that they were. 

Usopp is still a liar, when it suits him, and even a coward, but only when it’s good for a laugh. More than that, he’s an inventor and a storyteller and the best sharpshooter in the New World. Maybe sometimes he still flinches from danger, but he doesn’t let his crew run to meet it without him. He builds things and helps people and nobody has the power to make him feel like anything except what he is.

He’s someone worth betting your last beli on. Somehow, Luffy knew that from the very first moment they met. Usopp took the long way around, but he caught up eventually.

[philtstone]

title: check yes, juliet

Summary:

It doesn't matter that Juliet is a freshly-minted, top-of-her-class field agent (alright, so she hasn't actually been in the field yet) or one of the few women working for the Federal Bureau of Investigation's cutting edge check fraud department (just last week, their 20-year-old coffee maker broke and they ran out of number two pencils to mark up their overhead projector notes with): every time her mother calls, all she does is lament that her beautiful, intelligent daughter isn't meeting any eligible bachelors.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Maryanne sighs eventually. “All O’Hara women fall for liars, Julie. It’s our curse.”

Juliet has to wonder if she didn't scoff at her mother's claim a little bit too soon.

my brother & i had the earth shattering realization a month ago that the plot of "catch me if you can" (2002) is almost to a tee just a mildly alternate psych timeline and that thought has lived in my head rent free to such an insane degree that eventually 14 thousand words poured out of me in au fic form. im posting it so as many other people as possible can see the vision. and also because im sure theres one person other than me who revels in early seasons shawnjuliet's frankly insane levels of chemistry, lol. enjoy!

READ FULL FIC ON AO3

Excerpt:

“Your average bounced check would be routed to the bank it originates from, so you’d only really have a few days in one place before you were discovered. This guy’s been filing off the routing numbers, changing ‘em somehow – so cleanly and neatly that it’ll take a real sharp eye to notice. It’s all about the branch you’re cashing it in. A check cashed in at Chase Manhattan with the one changed to ten’s gonna bounce halfway around the country before anyone figures out it’s rotten, and by that point this asshole is long gone. The numbers go East, Central, West – you see how they cover 0-60, 70-80, and of course they require a special kind of ink to be recognized as real checks, which you’d all know if you’d read the report I circulated …”

Juliet doesn’t notice the full cup of orange juice in front of her until it’s too late. 

Her head’s still full of Carlton’s two hour long briefing this morning, during which she learned more about check fraud than she’d have ever thought a single person could in one lifespan. Certainly not Juliet, who’d originally studied literature at Florida State. Then again, back then she’d have never expected to end up an FBI agent, either.

Then there’s the wired, tense feeling in her gut that probably won’t go away ‘til this sting is over and they bring in the pathetic local guy Carlton’s been tracking for the last week. His MO is pretty girls in pastel dresses, which made Juliet the right man – woman – for the job. At least maybe doing this’ll help the guys in the office take her seriously as a field agent. And, well … she does love a nice peachy pink cardigan. The color goes well with her complexion.

“This idiot’s no real con man, he’s just a clown who can’t be bothered to work an honest job. Child’s play compared to the real thing. ” Carlton tends to pause here, angry that he’s got to acknowledge it like that – the real thin g. “ You know what they’ve been calling him in the papers these days?”  

Him . Always him. They don’t have a name on the subject yet, despite over a million cashed in fraudulent checks. Juliet hums and nods so her partner feels acknowledged. 

“ The skywayman . Pathetic. Like he’s some magician or something, instead of a two-bit liar who thinks he’s smarter than me. ”

“This isn’t personal, Carlton ,” Juliet says tiredly. “ It’s not like he knows who you are to be deliberately toying with you.”  

“Oh yes he is. I know he is. I know him .”

Her hands aren’t quite shaking, because that would be stupid; this guy, their local guy, shouldn’t have a gun on him, and if he does he’s not the type to shoot a woman. Juliet focuses on the paper in front of her and tucks a lock of her hair behind one ear. A window of ten minutes – that’s what Carlton said. Unlike Carlton’s unsub nemesis, they know plenty about this one. He’ll come in, dressed like the middle-aged schlub he is, loose tie probably, gray slacks, thinning hair. He’ll notice her, buy her a soda she’ll accept with a faulty check and then pick her pocket for the cash. The string of pearls at her neck makes her a sweet college girl whose parents have money. She mentally forces herself to stop chewing her lip and instead moves her right hand down to her lap, where she can pick at her nail polish without anyone seeing. 

“Well, obviously we wanna catch him,” Agent Dobson says, when they’re a third of the way through the morning briefing and half the room is asleep or dreaming of lunch. Juliet, of course, has been furiously taking notes. He means the Skywayman; he means the real thing. “But you gotta admit, Lassiter, there is a bit of a magic show to a good con, isn’t there? The press has that one thing right.”

“It’s not magic. It’s lies and deceit and a healthy helping of audacity, and a damn good typewriter. O’Hara, write that down. We’re gonna go through that list of makes and models again, see what we can come up with.”

Deep breath. Her purse, orange to match the cardigan, is in her lap. The gun’s in the purse. She’ll draw it, but not to shoot. This is the kind of work she’s begged the Chief for, and she’ll be just fine.

Maybe Juliet would feel less desperate to prove herself if this diner wasn’t in Miami, and her father didn’t gift her the only string of pearls she owns.

A voice clears itself quietly above her.

“Uh, excuse me? Hi, yeah, hi. That’s my seat.”

READ MORE

[geralallfandoms]

|DARYL DIXON|

The beginning of everything

Warning: None

Daryl Dixon x fem reader

Night had finally fallen, the stars began to populate the sky and the moon illuminated the empty and quiet streets of the city. The van that he had managed to buy after saving so much time was back at the mechanic with none other than the Dixons. Since she was little, she had formed a rare but beautiful friendship with the brothers, who at first had been a little annoyed by the presence of a girl, but over time she had gotten used to them.

The way home from work was too long, which led me to decide to spend the night with them and wait for my van.

Before I got too close, I felt something weird. Both the motorcycle and the two trucks were guarded, which was not normal since they were always left outside, the windows were closed and the television seemed to be off.

When my feet touched the wood of the entrance, the door flew open, without even giving me time to knock. Daryl was poised to attack, his crossbow inches from my nose, a knife in his hand and Merle standing next to him with a gun in her hands. He had always known that they got into some ugly business and that's why they always had to keep an eye out for strangers, but they would never go on the defensive just by hearing footsteps.

I raised my hands in a survival instinct, their faces softened when they saw who it was and it was the youngest of the brothers who quickly lowered their weapons, took my arm and dragged me into the house. Merle looked around for a few seconds and then locked the door, bolted it, and locked it with a table.

“What are you doing woman?” Daryl asked me as he looked me up and down and ran his hands over my shoulders and arms.

"Don't you read or listen to the news, beautiful? I thought you were smarter. "Merle added with a smile on his face.

"That would have to ask you. Do they receive me with a blast in the face and pure lead? I thought we were friends." Merle simply turned around and continued putting cans and everything he found in a box, while the youngest stared at me.

"Haven't you really heard the news? Have you not met anyone on the street? Damn woman, you never pay attention."

Noticing the seriousness in his words, it was impossible for me not to worry. I followed him to the chair in front of the television that I didn't know how it was still working and the three of us listened to the reporter's words.

–We repeat: do not leave your house. Take only what is necessary and go to the centers, there you will find medical attention, food and you will be safe. We still don't know where it comes from...- Before the woman could finish speaking, the cameraman took her arm, with her camera still on, and began to guide her down a corridor. Behind her, screams and what sounded like growling could be heard. Maybe an earthquake?

After running for a few minutes, they reached the terrace of the building. At this point, the cameraman didn't care to record the situation, he could only see the floor... but it wasn't until someone jumped on the woman, that I could see what was happening; The man had her arm, her teeth chewed desperately on her shoulder, tearing piece after piece. His screams were heartbreaking and only made my hands shake more and more.

Thousands of questions were going through my head. What was happening? Why did he attack her like that? Why don't I run into anyone like them on the streets? Will my family be okay? All the questions disappeared at the moment when the cameraman, desperately looking for a way out, pointed his camera at the precipice of the building, and down there, thousands of people... or what seemed like people, walked the streets at a slow pace, some faster, others shouted and stretched their arms towards where he was.

The moment I was about to ask how far this would go, how far they would broadcast it on television, he just jumped.

"But..." The words didn't finish coming out of my mouth when the brothers got up quickly.

"We're not going," Daryl warned as he helped Merle pack the missing items into the boxes.

"Where?" The nervousness in my voice was present.

"Wherever, we will not stay. You're coming with us, beautiful." The older man answered as he threw a backpack at me.

"I...I don't-I don't have to look for my parents...my brother-"

"Hey, hey...we have to go. You already saw how everything is in the city, I promise we'll look for them later."

I got up from the chair without hearing his words. I was not going to leave my family. But as I approached the door, arms wrapped around my shoulders as Merle stood in front of it.

"Y/n...we have to go." His arms stretched out to surround me like letamekte, getting trapped in her embrace.

"I promise you that we will look for them, beautiful…" finished the mayir of the brothers while he wiped away the inconsolable tears that rolled down my cheeks.

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

Hello!! how are you? I hope you liked it! I would love to know if you liked it and I would gladly take requests, it sound fun💫

Thank you!!❤

[mintychristianwitch]

giving your All when they don't want All of You

Yesterday I was volunteering at a local Maker Faire and it made me nostalgic for times before. I throw my all into volunteering, always have, because I believe that if you are going to do something then you should do it wholeheartedly. My family has always had a strong work ethic instilled in us since the time of my great-grandparents who were some pretty revolutionary and forward-thinking farmers.

My family has always been a matriarchy, we all knew that my great-grandmother was the head honcho. She was in charge of events, finances, family affairs, conflict resolution, politics, and, most interestingly, she was the spiritual head of the family. In 1945. My great-grandfather always said "politics and religion you keep in your wife's maiden name," and that wasn't a sexist joke, he fully meant it. My great-grandmother's twin sister was a preacher and when her preaching days were done she was well known at the church for rapping her cane on the floor whenever the preacher said something a little too conservative or political. They were respected for being powerful and intelligent even though they were women.

That may seem like a tangent but it is actually a frame of my worldview when it comes to serving others. In my previous life my parents, brother, and I were regular volunteers at nearly every church event. More Sundays than not we were serving lunch, teaching Sunday school, watching the babies during service, running a coffee bar for 70 people after church, etc. We were the ones they would call when another volunteer fell ill or flaked because we always got the job done. My father was one of the only men who regularly put any effort into volunteering (the others who took it seriously were usually Freemasons, huh).

My former church functioned like many in that volunteers were always needed yet rarely respected. This was most definitely because they were usually women or people who identified as women at the time. Men who volunteered were overly praised, even my father. Over the years the pastor and the Elders began to winnow away the roles that gave women actual power in the church like deacon roles, Sunday school teaching, and so on. Volunteering for events was about the only thing women were allowed to do eventually, aside from being on the Oversight Council. The joke here is that the only women they let onto the council were the malleable ones. This church had slowly developed a very "women are equal they're just suited for different roles" kind of Christian misogyny.

I was always praised for my kindness, my hard work, my dedication, but I was rarely praised for my mind. I learned from a young age that questioning things or expressing liberal thoughts was frowned upon. I was regularly ribbed for being too loud, too colorful, having short hair, being forceful, wearing weird clothes. The assistant pastor was always very snide about me even though I was the only teen or young adult he could count on. I ran whole events with no recognition. There were no big moments, just a thousand little ones that let me know that I was only valued for my labor and my potential to create tiny little Christian boys one day. My mind was an inconvenient bonus.

My mother was regularly put down as being lesser than even though she is, no shade, way smarter and more intellectual than my dad, and my dad is a pretty darn solid theologian. She was disrespected by the Elders (all male) and the various men and even some women in our church time and time again. She participated in a Bible study with our former pastor and he grew sick of my parents (mostly my mom) because they would actually engage with the material instead of blindly agreeing with what he said, so he cut them out of his life. We still had to go listen to him preach on Sundays though. They were close friends for 10 years. That was perhaps the first time I realized that I couldn't reconcile my beliefs with this church and it wasn't long after that that I was able to leave. My parents remained, partially out of fear and partially because they are stubborn and they don't back down when pushed. The same thing happened later with an Elder that we thought was a nice guy. Oops. By the time they left only men were teaching Sunday school classes and most mixed-gender Bible studies were being led by men. Gross.

One of the malicious parts of church volunteering is that you are supposed to volunteer and not want credit according to God or some shit, and its true, you are supposed to have the heart of a servant, but I think that preachers forget that they are not our masters. They are supposed to be serving us. They are supposed to treat us with respect. Instead they let men take credit for women's work or they force women out of leadership roles and then claim that women don't measure up. Fuck that, and fuck them. Only God has the right to claim mastery over me, and I doubt that a loving God would choose to emotionally abuse me while simultaneously demanding my physical and emotional labor. I deserve respect. My father wired that whole church for free during a time when my family was dirt poor, and he did the maintenance for free for years, but the second he became a Freemason all those years of loyalty amounted to nothing.

I find that one of my favorite memories of volunteering is being able to tell people what needs to happen and have them listen. Its a soft kind of power. A few months before my parents decided to finally leave I had gone back to serve at the funeral of a friend and his daughter who had both passed. We needed more water and no one knew where to get any so I marched up to one of the new asshole pastors, one who didn't know me, and started demanding he help me find the water bottles we needed. He was so stunned that he just did it and let me order him around the church like a confused sheep unlocking all of the doors that the volunteers didn't have keys to.

Yesterday was much the same, the maker scene in my area is very male-dominated even though "everyone" is welcome. I noticed that my female friends who were running the maker faire were very stressed and running all over the place but the men who were volunteering were just wandering around, chatting, being goofy. Blood = boiling. So I rolled up in my cute dress, pink robot earrings, and pink pigtails and made it everyone else's problem. I rocked the shit out of my eight-hour volunteering role and I raised hell for anyone who wasn't doing their job right. Tomorrow when we debrief I am going to complain about the men on that committee. I am done letting men take credit for getting things done and letting women take the fall.

[chaos-monkeyy]

New SGA kinkfic started... There's a deeper reason behind John's falling out with his family when he was younger.

Content warnings for the fic as a whole: Underage (teenage John); eventual angst along with the fun smut; heteronormativity and homophobia; plus dysfunctional family shit. Oh. uh, right. And all the sibling incest 😅 Full tags on AO3, teaser below the cut xx

Chapter 1: Like old times

It starts when Dave’s eighteen, during his first year at college. 

He’s home during the first term break, and he’s been a little nervous coming back. He and John have always been close despite the few years’ difference between them, and Dave has found himself, quite privately, slightly worried that him being away like this will somehow… change things between him and his younger brother. Even though he hasn’t really been gone all that long. 

But it doesn’t change anything. To Dave’s quiet relief, he and John are right back to being inseparable almost from the moment he walks in the front doors. More so, even, than before Dave had left; as though they’re making up for the lost time apart. 

It’s not a long break, and aside from the expected parental interrogation about the school term and being expected to show up for dinner every night— appropriately dressed, of course, and on time— Dave and John are mostly left to their own devices. 

Just like old times. 

It’s familiar, comforting, and eases a little tension Dave doesn’t really realize he’s carrying until it lifts. Not that his first semester at college is going badly. He’s near the top of his class, he’s got the build and the upbringing to excel at pretty much any sport he chooses, and… people like him there. He’s not the rich kid anymore; he’s just one more rich kid instead. 

People like him, and more importantly, girls like him. 

John wants to hear everything Dave will tell him about college outside of class. He’s not worried about the classes themselves; Dave didn’t expect he would be. John’s even smarter than he is and they both know it, even if John does like playing dumb most of the time for some unfathomable reason. The whole thing is going to be a breeze for him once he gets there. Unfairly so; or at least, Dave would be more than a little envious if it were anyone but his little brother. John is just… too damn likable to get annoyed at for something like that. 

What John really wants to know about, what makes him perk up and listen intently and ask a thousand questions, is what Dave gets to do with his free time away from all the stifling rules and constant oversight of living at home. 

“They’re pretty fucking great,” Dave tells him, the day after getting back. They’re out away from the house, back behind the old, unused stables up the hill so Dave can sneak a cigarette before supper without any real risk of getting caught, and John’s just asked him about the parties. 

“Yeah?” John asks, and Dave nods, watching the sun drop towards the horizon. 

“Oh, yeah. Booze, weed. Sex,” he adds, pretending it’s an afterthought, like he’s not bragging about it even though he knows he absolutely is. 

“D’you get laid a lot?” John’s turned towards him now, still leaning against the stable wall. There’s a real bite in the air tonight, though not quite enough for their breath to hang in the air. 

Dave takes a last, long drag of his cigarette before dropping the butt and grinding it into the dirt with his heel to hide it. “C’mon man, what d’you think? Of course I get laid a lot,” he says, and shoots his brother a broad, cocky grin, spreading his arms wide. “Just look at me.” 

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Only six chapters left omg -Danny

Words: 1,687

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Movie’ -by Blake Rose

xxxiv: Unrequited

"I don't like their idea."

"I thought so."

Parker frowned, it was hard to see his face since he was sitting on the side of the bed that moonlight couldn't reach, but she could feel his worry. "Using you as bait is a terrible idea! That guy threw a spear at you with no hesitation, do you think he'll stop to talk this time?"

"No," she shrugged, "the point of this is precisely so I figure out a way for the others to stop him before he gets close enough to kill me. If he goes out of control, if I see the others won't make it, I'll kill him."

Parker sighed, fingertips grazing her knee. "If I could stay..."

"That's enough," she said firmly.

"Okay," he got up without putting up a fight. "Ready when you are."

Cat laid down and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and began to shapeshift, growing in size, and getting heavier.

"Man, for someone who claims to be hunting beasts, he sure looks like a half-bear himself..."

"Don't distract me," Cat flinched at the sound of Kraven's voice. "You know what to do if I get blocked up, right?"

He twirled the baton in the air, though he didn't seem excited. "Are you sure that's the only way?"

"It's the fastest," she responded. "Now quiet..."

Cat focused on the hunter's memories and got glimpses of thousands of moments. She discovered Kraven had been terrified of her since the start, why he was so brutal during the conditioning, he needed to feel in control. Then she saw Nightcrawler. Kurt was obedient, fast, and a little creepy, so he didn't have Cat's predisposition to question first, act second.

When Kurt turned against them to help Cat, Kraven decided to start hunting the mutant race, and he swore she'd pay for her arrogance. He changed to achieve his goal, injected himself to become stronger and harder to kill. He went after Cat to prove that she had a streak of dumb-luck moments and he was capable of ending it.

Cat inhaled sharply and she sat up. Her body shrunk and changed, Parker dropped the baton on the floor so he could cup her face and make sure she was fine. "It's okay," he cooed, "take a breath, Jane Doe, you're safe..."

Cat blinked rapidly. "I got it..."

"Yeah?"

"I know how to stop him..."

"You want water?" Parker seemed to care more about her than the information she'd gotten.

"Yes." He passed her a glass, and she drank half of it before continuing her explanation. "It's his pride."

"What?"

"He never subdued me, not entirely. When he sent Nightcrawler after me, I convinced Kurt to quit... s'not because I blew the lab, or 'cause of his brother's death, or even the money... he wants to prove I'm not smarter than him."

"He's hunting you for fun?"

"Pride..." she repeated. "But I guess it's fun for him, he likes to know he's got me cornered."

"Cat, don't go."

"What?"

"This is a sick game he's forced you to play for years, and even if you get him, who's to say he doesn't have a plan B? That he's not gathering a team to kill yours?"

Cat rubbed her forehead. "That's not how he works."

"He doesn't have any power over you! Going to him is asking to get hurt!"

"You don't get it!" Cat snapped. "I can't ignore him, Peter, he'll go after my friends, innocent people—"

"Don't you dare tell me this is about saving your friends, 'cause I know it's not," Parker looked into her eyes like he could read her thoughts.

Cat scowled. "So what if it's not?"

Silence. The kind that buzzed and crushed her down and against the wall, forcing her to admit something she didn't want to. The young man walked away from her. "Your hand keeps trying to reach and you tug it away every time..."

"Reaching for what?"

"Me." Peter Parker had guts, she couldn't deny that.

"Listen," she began, voice stern. "You show up like it's not a big deal—"

"It is a big deal," he interrupted her. "That's what I came to say."

She tilted her head, too stressed to make sense of his words. "Elaborate?"

Parker's hand fidgeted with the multiversal gizmo around his wrist. "I ran a few stats every time I traveled, just out of curiosity..."

"And?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "The readings are unstable." He hurried to explain further. "Not by a lot! But it's... it's definitely happening. See it as a curtain, alright? The light went through it but it wasn't noticeable until I poked the gap. The more I poke..."

"The more it opens," she said, eyes filling with concern. "Just like I said."

"But we didn't know you were right until now, so you're welcome," he said cynically. "You were right. I'll stop."

Cat stared at him, and to Parker's surprise, she teared up. "I told you," she says shakily. "And you still came back. What if you... if you get cancer or—"

"Woah, there is no proof that's even a possibility!" He tried to reach her, but Cat crawled away.

"Stop—Stop!" She said, pointing a finger at him. "How many?"

He paused. "What?"

"In theory, how many times can you travel back and forth before it becomes a problem?"

Parker looked down, scowling at his feet. "Could be a million, could be ten... I don't know."

She gulped. "Is this the last time we see each other?"

"No," he answered right away, then hesitated. "Unless you want it to be."

"What?" she replied in disbelief. "Why are you placing the responsibility on me?"

"I'm not, what I'm saying is, there is a way we can see each other still," he continued carefully, "if you consider visiting me instead."

Cat let out something between a scoff and a laugh. "You gotta be kidding me."

"We've changed and we've grown, Cat. I've learned so much since the last time. I'm stronger. I'm better. I know how to love someone and I know what I'm doing," the way he said all those things made her feel like he'd been thinking about it for quite a while. "So please, let me show you... If you let me, I swear I won't let you down."

"Do you really?" She raised her voice. "Do you know what you're doing? I'm not a girl you ought to rescue from her tough life, and I'm not a... replacement— of whatever you lost when... when Gwen died."

"I'm not looking for a replacement. I'm always looking at you."

"You know I can't do it," Cat pushed herself out of bed. "Leaving would be like giving up."

"I'm not asking you to leave for good!" He followed her out of the room. "I know you think you can't, but love isn't about blind faith, Cat. It's knowing who a person is and trusting them anyways. It's never too late to start over. Everyone makes mistakes. We deserve another chance. You deserve a chance!"

Commitment. Reciprocity... Something else.

"Your solution is just nonsense— it's a pipe dream!"

"Says who?"

"Three different universes!" She exclaimed. "One in which I don't end up with you, and two where I don't even exist! If we were meant to be, you'd have a Copycat, it's crazy to think that whoever controls this shitshow—"

He let out a bitter laugh. "If you're always placing the responsibility onto something that doesn't exist—"

"No, that's not..." She couldn't meet his eyes. "I just happen to have common sense."

"Please..." the young man was practically begging at her feet, his big brown eyes wide with desperate hope. "Let me have a chance to make you happy and... for me to finally stop being alone. Give me this one thing and I swear I'll never take it for granted. I promise."

"Peter... How do you do it?" She asked tiredly. "You lost the girl of your dreams and yet you still fell in love again... Why?"

"I'm scared shitless," he lets out a short laugh. "But I still want to be happy. Don't you?"

She tried again. "I have a chance to save you from getting a type of heartbreak that we've gone through enough times. I care about Peter Parker, and if I ruin you... there must be someone better in your world, your MJ, remember?"

"No, don't even..." he lifted a hand to stop her. "I understand..." Parker shook his head and let out another laugh, but this one came out beaten. "How many times do you have to say no for me to get it?" He turned around and went back to the bedroom.

M.O.U.S.E. announced Harley was calling her. Cat felt she would regret it if she didn't continue the conversation, but the call was important too. "Answer, Mouse." She took a deep breath before talking. "Harley, I know what we—"

"Hi, beast."

She almost fainted. "Sergei."

"Your friend was stupid to come here alone. He's still alive, but he won't be for long if you don't come to get him. The hunt begins now."

"You fucking coward," she replied tensely. "If you touch him, what I did to Russo will look like child's play compared to what I'll do to you!" She hung up just in time to hear the window of her room opening. "Peter!"

Dammit. Who was he to demand her to make a choice on the spot? He didn't even know! He didn't know... That was the problem, right? He was scared of his feelings and yet he was taking a risk, but he felt it was unrequited because Cat couldn't bring herself to speak up.

Part of her wanted to hold onto the idea, but she was constantly slapping her hands away from it. Giving him entrance meant throwing big parts of her life so he could fit. Was it worth it, when love was so brittle? The pain, the sacrifice... was it fair? He would have to suffer just to get her crumbs.

All of the Spider-man she'd met deserved love that cleared skies and lightened the weight of their shoulders... and she wasn't that. If her world needed her like now, if she had to choose between the world and him, she would choose the world, and she couldn't promise her answer would change with time. There was always a bigger purpose.

"We're not doing this right now, C.C.," she groaned, rubbing her eyes. "One day at a time..."

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​​​​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​​​​​​ @espressopatronum454​​​​​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch @slytherinnqueen​

[evilkitten3]

i think one thing i hated about thor 3 that i never see getting discussed in thor’s response to loki’s reappearance on asgard post-sakaar.

ignoring the extremely weird behavior loki’s been displaying throughout the movie (especially the whole “your savior is here” thing which. makes me miss tdw’s “ta-da” line), the last time thor and loki interacted in the film was thor leaving loki to be electrocuted on the floor with no way of freeing himself while telling him that they probably shouldn’t ever see each other again.

thor arrives on asgard with val and bruce. and that’s it. he’s taking on the goddess of death in the realm where she’s at her most powerful, her giant zombie wolf, and her horde of undead warriors (and skurge but like. this isn’t the comics; skurge isn’t a threat here) with two other people. not that the three of them aren’t pretty fucking dangerous, but there’s no way they can win this; they’re outnumbered and outmatched. oh, and the ship they’re on (the commodore) is fucking tiny.

loki literally shows up with a small army and a ship big enough to fit all of the survivors on. and thor’s response? “you’re late”

this isn’t fucking lord of the rings you actual sack of shit this is the absolute last person in the universe who owes you anything showing up to save your reckless ass. fucking heimdall at least gives him a “welcome home” and is overall pretty damn friendly given everything that’s happened between the two of them. which i personally find hilarious given that in the actual ragnarok loki and heimdallr are supposed to kill each other.

but anyway, i think that particular interaction between thor and loki showcases everything ragnarok did wrong with their relationship specifically. namely, it was one of the worst possible conclusions to the arc started in thor 1. in t1, loki is struggling to feel like his existence means anything next to thor’s, and thor is so hotheaded and generally oblivious that he’s completely unaware of how deeply loki is affected by his casual remarks. obviously a1 and t2 have things significantly worse, for fairly understandable reasons, but the overall connection between them was still easy to see - brothers who cared for each other at one point but were caught up in such a toxic family dynamic that they were incapable of even properly communicating with each other.

come thor 3, though, thor’s not even pretending to care. he’s entirely indifferent to the guy who has been by his side for over a thousand years. i’d say he treats loki like a dog, but honestly, he treats loki more like a boomerang - just an object you throw at your problems and if it doesn’t come back then it’s probably broken and you should just throw it away.

loki and thor didn’t “reconcile” in ragnarok. thor stopped caring about anyone else (don’t get me started on how he treated bruce/the hulk) and loki gave up on ever being treated like a person. i’m not sure if loki sacrificed himself in infinity war to save thor or to get away from him. and honestly i don’t know if loki was sure either.

[songmingisthighs]

[19.06] mafia!hongjoong × reader

⇀ you were interested in hongjoong, a notorious leader of a very successful mafia organization. sadly he didn't see you that way. if only he knew the true you before making a rash judgement

⇁ tw : mafia life, angst, mentions of black market activities, death, violence, dark stuff. read at your own risk.

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author’s imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

The door to Hongjoong's office opened and in walked his right hand, with a teasing smirk on his face. Hongjoong looked up from the paperwork on his desk and looked up to the man with a raised eyebrow, "what are you smirking at?" he questioned.

Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door, "there's someone here for you," he said whilst holding onto his laughter. Hongjoong shifted his gaze from his friend to the door and then back to him again, "who?" "your girlfriend," Seonghwa teased.

Before Hongjoong could throw anything at him, though, Seonghwa had run off, laughing heartily.

Not long after, you came into his office with a wide smile. As per usual, you were dressed to impress, head to toe with a black and white vintage channel mini skirt and blazer, adorned with a channel necklace and earrings. As you walked in, Wooyoung, one of Hongjoong's trusted men, looked at your passing figure with mouth hanging low and a starstruck look on his face. But you didn't care, you only had eyes for Hongjoong.

It has been roughly five months since you started dropping into Hongjoong's office. Your dad, an equally highly successful head of the mafia from where you're from, wanted you to get married to expand his business and make more allies. He gave you several options but you were immediately intrigued by Hongjoong, one of the mafia heads he made a partnership with by providing him with weapons. The comprehensive file your dad gave you did Hongjoong no justice so you decided to get to know him for real.

Unluckily, Hongjoong is very secretive and protective of himself and his family (re: his brothers; his most trusted men in the mafia). He had been betrayed so many times before and his thirst for revenge both became his strength and downfall. While he managed to build a highly acclaimed mafia organization at such a young age, he closed off everyone who he deemed not worthy of his attention even after only seeing them for less than five minutes.

Sadly, that included you. You weren't the only one who got a comprehensive file on the other, he too had one of you. A straight-A student from Wharton with hobbies consisting of horseback riding and charity? He wondered whether you were preparing to take over your dad's mafia or to steal the Crown of England and be its ruler.

Hongjoong tried his best to hold in a groan of annoyance but even so, some still escaped him and you heard it. Though you were used to it so you just ignored him.

"Hi, Joong," you grinned widely at him, walking in and putting a medium-sized box of cake on his desk after closing his door. "Don't call me Joong," he grumbled.

In all honesty, your bubblegum personality sickened him. He knows for a fact that no one is that happy-go-lucky and excited and has rainbows shooting out of their asses 24/7. So there has to be something you were hiding from him.

You only chuckled at his response, "You're a sourpuss, you know that? You're gonna have wrinkles before you hit thirty if you keep frowning all the time like that," you said as you focused yourself on opening the cake box.

Inside it was the cake you made for him. All the times you visited him, you never made him something from scratch. You were trained to be the head of a mafia organization one day, not in the kitchen. So that cake was the very first thing you made and you were beyond proud of yourself.

"Look," Hongjoong exhaled sharply, starting to get annoyed even before you did anything, "You came at a bad time, I need to get a hundred thousand things done before tonight, in case you didn't realize, my organization is-" "in the brink of war with Stray Kids, I know, I've read the reports," you simply said, hands moving to cut the cake in front of you to hand to him.

"I have connections with the leader's soft spot, the foreigner one, I can make a deal that would help your case if you would jus-"

"NO!!!!" he yelled out, slamming his hands onto his desk, startling you so much that you accidentally dropped your knife and stepped back a little.

Maybe it was the stress of having to deal with things alone, or maybe it's just him finally snapping from overthinking about you, but one thing's for sure is that he had had enough. He needed to put you in your place.

"You may be your daddy's little princess back home, all dressed in white and pink and lace, showered with Channels, Tiffanys and your hoity-toity prestigious Wharton degree. But here, you're nothing, got me? You understood nothing about having to work your ass off to get the recognition and rewards you deserve, you had your daddy behind you this whole time and that's very convenient for you. But don't come here and act like you know shit, okay? Our worlds are different, you came from a cotton candy palace, I came from the ditch, your opinion means less than shit to me," he spat out so quickly, he didn't realize that your expression changed to something that he had never seen before.

Your eyes were blank and glazed, lips slightly quivering and chest heaving.

Hongjoong thought that he had really put you in your place and he was about to celebrate the fact that he might finally drove you away when you opened your mouth.

"Cotton candy palace? Not understanding having to work my ass off?" you choked out.

At first, Hongjoong thought you were gonna cry. But a sadistic, maniacal laugh resonated in the room from where you were doubled over, holding onto your stomach.

It was Hongjoong's turn to be stunned into silence.

"Oh my god, I thought you were smarter than that," you muttered as you calmed down, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes, "you think that this is who I am?" you asked with a raised eyebrow at him.

Hongjoong was confused about whether or not he should speak. It was the first time anyone had ever stunned Hongjoong and Hongjoong didn't know what to do.

"I was born from a girl who was en route to be sold in a human trafficking ring, I came out premature and was about to be sold to a satanic cult as their sacrifice but my 'dad' 'rescued' me. I was stored in a facility with thirty other children, we were trained to be assassins since before we could walk, brainwashed with ideals that ruined our brains. One by one, each year some of us were taken out if we show a lack of improvement or no promise," as you talked, you took off your earrings and necklace and put them on Hongjoong's desk.

While you ran a hand through your messy hair, you stared into him deeply, "I was seven when I first killed someone, my last competition. She was two years older than me and she was sold by her parents for coke money, or as the warden told us. We were reminded every day of how worthless we are so we wouldn't rebel and escape. But even in despair, I wanted something more. That's where daddy came in. He was impressed with me and he took me in as his daughter, telling people one of his whores were pregnant with me to assure my legitimacy. I was schooled in my own private red room. I had to fight for my right as a human being, I made deals with my dad to be able to go out with bodyguard escorts for only an hour every month,"

Hongjoong's eyes followed your hands that gripped onto the edge of your skirt, "did your little binder wrote that I went on my first official mission when I was just twelve? My dad cut the ballet lesson that I trade in for 120 hours of combat training short to gear me up, put me in a room of adult men and sent me off to plant an active bomb in 5 minutes in an air vent of the headquarters of his rival, crazy, right?" you chuckled humorlessly whilst ripping your skirt off to reveal your black shorts inside, a knife and a gun holstered on your thighs were revealed, making Hongjoond's eyes widened.

He never would have imagined someone like you to carry weapons under your very girly outfit. Or to even have such a traumatizing backstory.

"My whole appearance is compensation for my very dark upbringing, I wanted to hide it all. My dad told me I was stupid, that I belonged in the dark, dark world. But when I went to Wharton, I tried to change myself. I thought that I might be able to be the person I wanna be by marrying someone my dad approved so I don't have to take over wholly, I could just be the voice by the side, lending my skills and help the organization indirectly,"

You looked down at your heels clad feet for a second, letting your toes point and moving them from left to right to see what it looks like.

At this point, Hongjoong felt bad for having blown up at you. You had only wanted to spend time with him and even if he didn't want to see you, he could've said it nicely. Hongjoong never felt like this before, it was very weird for him.

He was about to walk over to you when you suddenly took your heels off in a flash and threw them both at Hongjoong so hard that it embedded deep into the wall on either side of his face.

Your usual smile was replaced with a frown, the eyes that usually twinkled showed nothing but darkness. He barely recognized you and he was on edge about it.

"You made your standing with me perfectly clear, Kim Hongjoong, while my dad is one to stop things before they become an issue, I like to see how things unravel," you smirked at him.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, not being able to process anything.

"It means that your partnership with my dad is off, good luck finding a new weapons supplier," you spat out before turning around to leave the room, leaving traces of yourself behind at his office.

Hongjoong wanted to call after you, try to make things better somehow. But his head still couldn't even wrap around the shocking information you had just revealed.

Not long after you left, Yeosang came in but stopped at the door, scanning the room that was littered with remnants of you. "What the fuck happened here? Did a hooker tried to kill you!?" he asked, still confused at the situation.

When Yeosang looked up, he saw Hongjoong in a way he had never seen him before.

Nervous.

"I-I- I think I just forged a war between us and the largest mafia weapons manufacturer on the eastern hemisphere," he uttered out.

[sunoorintarou]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 1: 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 3𝐬: 𝐄𝐧𝐡𝐚 02𝐳

Warnings: Vampires, blood, slight stalking ig, implied kidnapping, nothing too detailed and serious, just 02z being,,, normal vampires?

Since your childhood, you've been told time and time again by your grandmother that troubles comes in threes. You had always assumed she meant you and your two siblings or even her daughter, your mother, and her two siblings who also had three children each but now you're at an age where you're starting to believe that she was, perhaps, right. Especially considering the 3 vampires, yes, as in the undead eternally living creatures said to suck the blood of the living, that stood in front of you and seemed like nothing but absolute trouble.

You may be wondering how you got into this situation, well, it wasn't a silly dare to visit some abandoned place or some sketchy transfer student love story where you decided to befriend them regardless of all the red lights, followed by blue lights, then followed by a loud wee woo wee woo sound that was almost impossible to ignore. In fact, you considered yourself quite a smart, rational person.

When the boys had moved in next door to you, you swore yourself off interacting with them simply because of the horrible feeling in your chest whenever you were near them. There was something, off, about these boys. Other than the fact they seemed to be the typical partying play boys you despised. You had assumed, incorrectly, that it would be easy to avoid them considering you rarely left your house, your friends often coming to visit you instead knowing your house bound nature. But one Saturday morning you had walked down the stairs to greet your parents (your siblings were still asleep) and lo and behold there at the table sat with them were the very boys you had been avoiding like the plague. Despite your panicked glances and vigorous head - shaking, you mother seemed oblivious to your obvious attempt at escaping and instead sat you down before making you introduce yourself.

The intimidating one with the short black hair that specialized in sweet talking which your mother seemed to have fallen for hook, line and sinker was Jay, the overly friendly one with the longer black hair and calm demeanour who reminded you of your grandmother's golden retriever was Jake, and the tall cocky one who seemed confident, too confident actually, with the oddly sharp teeth that kept staring at you was Sunghoon. A match made down below you'd say.

You were constantly on edge during what you'd name as the worst breakfast of your life trying to eat as quickly as possible while avoiding conversation. Your mother apologized for your behavior before explaining, "She's always like that." to which you received a chorus of understanding words and "comforting smiles."

Maybe you were being irrational or rude, but you've watched enough horror movies to realise that once you think of, "giving them a chance, you might have them all wrong," you'd be a goner. Your gut has never lied to you to this day so you therefore had no reason to doubt it.

After that day however, it seemed as though they were everywhere you went. When you walked outside to fetch the newspaper, Jake just so happened to be in their yard playing with his dog and trying to make conversation which you skillfully dodged. When you had got home from school, you almost had a heart attack seeing Jay in the kitchen helping your mother fix dinner while she praised his cooking skills and kindness, not seeing the glint in his eyes that gave you chills. When you had gone to the library to study, Sunghoon just so happened to be there too, sitting next to you and greeting you before stealing constant glances at you as you attempted to study. And of course the one time you decided to go out to a cafe with your friends, Minju had mentioned that a group of boys sitting at the back of the cafe were staring at you and asked if you knew them. And of course it was your neighbours you were quite frankly sick of seeing. Where were their parents? Shouldn't they be more concerned about their not so little monsters running around and wreaking havoc!

And now that leads to today. Your friend's older brother, Jaemin, had insisted he drop you off at home after staying late at their house to study. You weren't going to deny a ride over walking home in the dark and agreed happily, making light conversation until you arrived home. Jaemin had always been a sweetheart so you didn't mind spending time with him.

However, when you got home, the lights were off and you immediately paused, even though you knew your family wasn't home, they'd still always leave the lights on for you. You immediately walked to the door, scared to see it already unlocked and fumbled for your phone, calling your sister Yeji.

"Y/n? Are you OK? Did Hyunjin eat all the sweets I left for you-"

"D- did you guys leave the door unlocked?"

"Why would the door be unlocked- Oh! Hyunjin was supposed to lock up and meet us here, but he's with his girlfriend and hasn't come here yet, knowing him, he probably forgot because he was too occupied with her."

"Oh, yeah OK, OK."

"Why? Is something the matter? If there's a problem, I can call him and tell him to pick you up?"

"No- actually, yes, yes please, I have a bad feeling about this."

"OK, I'll phone him, I promise it will only take a second, then I'll phone you back, please stay safe."

You nodded, feet planted on your doorstep as you rushed to call Minju, knowing your best bet was to stay on the phone with someone at all times in case anything happened. In a split second however, your phone was gone and you felt a presence behind you. Your heart rammed against your rib cage as though it were trying to escape the confines of your chest before you whirled around, coming face to face with the trio that had been terrorizing you.

Sunghoon held your phone in his hand, he, Jay and Jake watching as your kept your face nonchalant, eyes barely wider than usual.

But what did make your eyes widen was the mysterious red stains on their clothes and skin as you scanned their forms. Your mind raced at a thousand miles an hour, wondering if you had been living next to a group of serial killers this entire time, until you noticed their irises turn a scarlet red and Sunghoon's fangs glint in the moonlight. You had always been a believer of the supernatural, so your natural assumption was-

"Vampires. You're all vampires."

The trio seemed impressed by your answer, Jake letting out a chuckle before patting your head lightly. You couldn't move, the sheer shock and adrenaline coursing through your veins as your body made the fatal decision to neither fight nor flight but to freeze.

"She actually got it right, I'm impressed." He grinned, the other two nodding in agreement.

"She seemed to be on the smarter side, at least a little smarter than the others." Sunghoon chimed.

The sound of Hyunjin's car driving up the street became louder and louder. You hoped and prayed he'd be able to get here before anything happened, but unfortunately for you, the trio had other plans.

"Oh, looks like we might get interrupted. But what's the rush, let's take our time and explain things to her. But for now, goodnight princess."

You were confused, ready to object to Jay's words but before you could do anything, everything turned dark and your mind doubted you'd ever see the light of day anytime soon.

[vagabondreamer]

After the Fall (1)

Pairing: Lucifer x Angel! Fem! MC

Word Count: 2.5k

Series Summary: Angel! Fem! MC is part of an exchange program that sends her to the Devildom for a year.

Chapter Summary: MC has a rude awakening when Michael orders her to go to the Devildom. Some pleasant and unpleasant first impressions of the brothers.

Author's Note: My story will follow some events from the Obey Me! game, but will deviate since MC is an angel.

***

You march into Michael’s office unannounced, a small letter in your grasp.

“Michael, what is this?” You hold up the paper to show him.

“MC, it’s rude to enter without knocking,” he scolds you. “It’s an exchange program. You’ve been chosen along with two other angels to go to Devildom.”

“Yeah, I can read that! Why do I have to go?” Michael sighs and meets your upset gaze.

“It’s to improve relations. And as Lucifer’s replacement it’s your duty to engage in these politics.” Michael places his hand on your shoulder in a friendly manner. “I know it’s been tough, and I know you’re still learning, but you will go.” His tone changes, much more serious this time.

“Yes sir.” You turn to leave his office.

“Oh and MC? Check up on Lucifer for me.”

“Yes sir.”

You left his office, and started towards your home. There was so much to do, but so little time; Michael must’ve sprung this up on you so you wouldn’t get much of a say. You looked down at the letter to see who the other angels were: Simeon and Luke. Simeon was a familiar name, you never got to meet him, but you knew he was close to Michael. Luke, on the other hand, you had no idea who he was. There were thousands of angels in the Celestial Realm so that wasn’t too surprising.

You packed your essentials, and said your goodbyes to close friends. Michael said he’d take care of your duties - which worried you. Were you not doing a good enough job? Was he going to replace you? Shaking your head, you told yourself not to worry. You only had to get through one year; and one year was nothing compared to the lifetime you lived.

One year in the Devildom.

One year with Lucifer.

***

It was early morning, the sky was bright and the air was fresh. Rolling to your side, you saw your luggage sitting next to the door. You jolted up.

“I thought that was a bad dream.” Rubbing your temple, you get out of bed and quickly get ready. There wasn’t a time written on the letter, but it was safe to assume you were already late. You rushed to the gates, and saw the other two other angels.

“I can’t believe we’re getting sent to the Devildom! There’s demons there!” The small boy complained.

“Well, demons need a home, too,” the other one teased.

Michael was also there.

“Ah, MC, you’re late.”

“I’m sorry. I -”

“This is Simeon and Luke, you should get to know them,” he interrupted you.

You shook their hands and introduced yourself. Never having met either angel, you were surprised with their looks. Simeon was absolutely gorgeous - formed by God himself. Luke, well, he was much younger than you anticipated; he must’ve only been a thousand years old - if that.

“Alright, it’s time to go. Be on your best behavior, you three represent the Celestial Realm.”

Everyone nods, and heads into the portal, one by one. You look back, saying a temporary goodbye to your beloved home.

Stepping out of the portal, the first thing you notice is how dark the environment is. The second thing you notice is that you’re in a large council room with a group of young men.

“Welcome to the Devildom,” a handsome man with red hair says. “I’m Lord Diavolo.”

You nod, giving a small smile, your stomach is doing flips.

“This is Lucifer -” Lord Diavolo continues his speech, but at the mention of Lucifer you tune out. Your eyes travel up and down him, trying to engrain his image to your brain. Never had you met him, only hearing the stories about him and his brothers. He looked mean.

“MC?” Lord Diavolo calls out again.

“Ah, yes?” Your cheeks light up, he kindly chuckles at your embarrassment.

“I was asking about what you do back home?”

“I-I’m a seraph.”

“You look young to be a seraph,” Lucifer responds boredly. Holding back the urge to roll your eyes, you cross your arms.

“I was created right after the war. In fact, I’ll be promoted to an Archangel after my training.”

Lucifer scoffs at this.

“You really think Michael would make you an Archangel?”

“I am your replacement, after all.”

He didn’t have a comeback for that, and by the look on Lord Diavolo’s face, he was not to continue quarreling. You meet the rest of the brothers: Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, and Beel. Perhaps your memory was jumbled up when you walked through the portal - you swore there was another brother. They have interesting personalities to say the least, you were glad you didn’t need to interact with them that much.

“Lord Diavolo, where will we be staying?” You assumed you three angels would be lodged together - oh how you assumed wrong.

“Right, well, there’s another exchange student - he’s a human. He’s requested to stay with angels so that he can learn more about them.”

“Okay, that’s no problem.”

“The problem is Purgatory Hall only has three rooms. And I’ve been told that Simeon is Luke’s guardian. I doubt you’ll want to share a room with another man, so the only other option is the House of Lamentation.”

“House of Lamentation?”

“It’s where we reside,” Satan speaks up. “Oh and it’s haunted.” Was he trying to scare you?

“It ain’t haunted! Stop talkin’ like that before you invite spirits in!” Squeals Mammon.

“Both of you, enough.” Lucifer grabs Mammon by the collar. “You’re going to look after her, and make sure nothing happens to her, do you understand me?” Mammon mumbles complaints but is otherwise compliant.

“I don’t need a babysitter. I can protect myself.”

“You’ve never met a demon until today, you will be escorted for your duration here.” You disliked his smuggish tone. He thought he was better than you. A smart retort would have come out of your mouth had it not been for Simeon.

“MC, I’m going to take Luke to the Purgatory hall, I’ll see you later.”

“It was nice meeting you both.” You say your goodbyes and follow Mammon. The walk to the House of Lamentation was full of fussing coming from your demon counterpart.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck babysitting a dumb angel.”

“I’m not exactly thrilled about it either.” You mumbled. “In fact, there really is no reason for you to watch over me. After all, I am a powerful angel. Simeon doesn’t need a babysitter so I shouldn’t either.”

“That’s right! I just need to show you how to get around, but you can totally take care of yourself. Huh, you are smarter than you look.” He’s one to talk.

Mammon showed you around the town real quick and then led you to the House of Lamentation. You had gotten quite a few stares, your outfit made you stick out like a sore thumb. Your body was adorn with a flowy white dress with gold accents, and a gradient teal cape draped over your shoulders. You made a mental note to go shopping for clothes as soon as you could.

“Alright, this is it.” You entered through the front door - the house was grand, it was more like a mansion. Mammon led you to your room, said ‘see ya’, and left just as quick.

Sighing, you sit on your bed. The covers were pink, you wondered who was the last occupant. The day had barely started and you already felt overwhelmed. Had it been up to you, you would’ve just stayed in your room and avoided the brothers all together. But a single knock at your door ruined those plans. Getting up, you reached for the door knob and opened the door. In front of you was a giant - his name was Beel, right? You were having trouble keeping track.

“Hi, MC. I was wondering if you were hungry.” At that moment, your stomach started to growl. That’s right, you were in such a rush this morning that you didn’t get to eat. In response, Beel’s stomach growled right back. A small blush covered his cheeks. “Want to go get lunch?”

“Sure.” You followed Beel not knowing where he was taking you; he went on and on about Hell’s Kitchen and how delicious their food was, so it was safe to assume you were headed there.

The restaurant was fairly busy, and you could’ve swore you heard the staff groan when you both sat down.

“Do you come here often?” You cringed at yourself - that sounded like an awful pick up line. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh yeah, I know the menu by heart. And when they come up with new stuff, I’m always first in line.”

A waitress came by to take your orders. Beel ordered the whole menu and then some, the waitress then looked at you; you weren’t sure what to pick, so you guessed and hoped it would taste good.

“So, tell me about yourself Beel.” You placed your chin in your hand, giving him your undivided attention.

“Myself?” He ponders for a moment. “I’m the Avatar of Gluttony.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “I’m the sixth-born. And...I have a twin brother.”

“Twin? Which one?”

“Belphie...you haven’t met him.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, so there was another brother.

“Where is he?” Beel adjusted in his seat and avoided your eye contact.

“I can’t say. Just don’t mention it to Lucifer, he’ll get really mad.” You decided to drop the topic, and just in time the food was being brought out.

***

The plan was to avoid the brothers, but after hanging out with Beel you decided he could be an exception. When you got back to the house everyone was actually there this time. As you walked back to your room, another demon stopped you - this time, Asmo.

“Ahh! You look so gorgeous! You must tell me your skincare routine right now!” He practically drags you to his room, not giving you a chance to protest. He sits you down at his vanity, poking and prodding at your cheeks. “You’re not wearing any makeup?” He gasps.

“No, Michael doesn’t really allow it. He says being too vain is a...sin…” You shut yourself up, quickly realizing you’re in front of the reason Michael says that. Asmo laughs.

“Well, Michael can’t tell you what to do down here. Please let me do your makeup!” Asmo has a good point - Michael wasn’t down here, and a little makeup wouldn’t be as sinful as he says.

“Okay, sure!”

Asmo worked on your face for about an hour and a half - to say he was a perfectionist felt like an understatement. You weren’t even allowed to look at your face until he was done; right then and there, you promised yourself to never let Asmo do your makeup ever again.

“Ta-da! I’m all done.” Asmo spun you around so you could look in the mirror. To say you looked beautiful was also an understatement.

“Wow…” You didn’t know what to say; your skin was flawless, your eye color popped, and your lips looked kissable.

“You look absolutely radiant.” For a moment you forgot where you were and you forgot who you were with, but you engulfed Asmo in a big hug - making sure not to ruin your makeup. “You’re welcome!”

“Would you want to go shopping one of these days? I really should get new clothes.” Asmo’s face lit up at the mention of shopping.

“Of course, darling! But what’s wrong with what you’re wearing now? I absolutely miss wearing my angel garbs.”

“It just grabs a lot of attention.” You hold up a hand to stop Asmo from interrupting. “I know what you’re going to say, attention isn’t always a bad thing. But, I just don’t want a bunch of demons to know I’m an angel.”

“Well the problem isn’t your clothes, MC.”

“What do you mean?”

“You literally radiate purity. All angels do. You can be dressed like a whore and they’d still know you’re an angel.”

“Oh, I suppose you have a point.”

“We can definitely still go shopping though!” You nod in agreement.

“That’s great! Well, I should probably go look for Lucifer and actually discuss what my day-to-day routine will look like.”

You gave Asmo a goodbye hug. Beel and Asmo would be the only two boys you don’t avoid - at least, you kept telling yourself that.

***

Walking around the house, you looked for Lucifer’s office. Michael always complimented Lucifer’s work habits - something you lacked in comparison. Now, you definitely weren’t lazy and your tasks were always completed, but because of Michael everything felt like a competition with someone who wasn’t even competing anymore.

You saw a door slightly cracked and peered in. Just your luck, it was Lucifer’s office. Barging in without knocking first, you find him at his desk full of papers.

“Hey, Lucifer, I’ve got a couple of questions about my time here.” You ask as you get a little too comfortable in one of his chairs.

“Do they not teach manners in the Celestial Realm anymore?” You recalled Michael always nagging about you barging in unwelcomed. Old habits do die hard.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” You sit up straight, feeling like you’re about to be scolded. Instead, Lucifer sighs and puts down his pen.

“What kind of questions?”

“Well, what am I going to be doing?”

“You’ll be attending RAD, just like the rest of us. You’ll learn the history of Devildom, law, potions, just like any other school.”

“School?” Your body slumped in disappointment; you had graduated and become a seraph what felt like only a few years ago, you really had no interest in RAD whatsoever. “What about meetings with Lord Diavolo?”

“What about them?”

“I was sent for relations, not academics.” Getting up from your seat, you move to stand in front of his desk.

“This is an exchange program. You’ll go to school and when Lord Diavolo sends for you, I will personally tell you.” He picks his pen back up and continues his work.

“Michael said I was here to talk politics.”

“I’m sure he did say that.”

“Then why are you treating me like a child?”

“Because you’re acting like one.” You scoff at his response. “Honestly, I can’t believe they created someone like you to take my place.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Childish, impatient, insecure, self-important, oh and you have no manners. You’re nothing like me.” Your hands balled into fists in anger.

“News flash, Lucifer, there’s a reason I’m not you. They don’t want another...incident.”

The pen he was holding snapped into two pieces. Maybe it was the way you said it, or perhaps that you were a reminder of his worst memories, but Lucifer subconsciously turned into his demon form. In retaliation, you turned into your angel form. You only had two wings, compared to his four - another way you were inferior to him.

“Get out.” You stood there, processing what was happening. “NOW.”

[flysafepapi]

best interests (do you understand?) 8/?

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Ollie x OFC John x platonic!OFC Tommy x platonic!OFC

tagging: @the-makingsofgreatness​

Summary:  Even in the short amount of time it’s been since Amelia moved to the city, she’s heard all sorts of stories about them. The Peaky Blinders. More than half of the stories, she suspects, are wildly exaggerated and  little more than idle gossip traded when people are well into their cups. Even so, she made a promise to herself to stay away from men who looked like trouble, especially after the last time, and if anyone in this dreary city was trouble, it was them.

masterlist

“I was married once, before,” Amelia says, rubbing her thumb over the gold band on her left hand. The details of her life before this, before London, have been deliberately kept a mystery. Ollie knows some of it, from little things she’s let slip in conversations, things she’s deemed safe enough to talk about. Alfie knows, but that was a given. She’s never said a thing to anyone else, until now. 

“When I was sixteen, I fell in love with a neighbourhood boy. Not one of my brother’s friends, I was never that foolish, but someone we all knew. He was sweet to me, and kind, at first. Even my parents were fooled by him, enough to say yes when he went to them to ask if he could marry me. But my brothers weren’t.” 

She lights a cigarette and leans back in her chair, tilting her head back to blow the smoke out in one thin stream. In the dim light, it almost looks beautiful, in a way. 

“They were against it from the start, and I should’ve listened to them, but I didn’t like them very much back then and thought they were just trying to ruin my chance to be happy.”

“What did he do?”

Esme doesn’t look at her, but Amelia knows she’s listening regardless. Everyone else is gone, thankfully, off to wherever it is they go when the work is done. The Garrison, she guesses. 

“He broke me. And I thought I could hide it, or run from it, or- I don’t know. It started small, you know? Complaints that what I made for dinner wasn’t good enough, and bruises from his hands around my wrists. Didn’t take long before it got worse and worse.”

“Amelia-”

“My brothers were smarter than me, always have been, and they knew. I don’t know how, because I hid it as well as I could, but they knew. One day, they came to the house and took him away. And I never saw him ever again. And I never let myself get that close to anyone else again, until-”

For a minute, she stares up at the ceiling, lost in the memories. Sometimes, when the nightmares find their way back to her, she can still feel his hands around her neck when she wakes, locked tight around her throat. 

“That doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is that regardless of what his reputation might be, Tommy wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Long enough to know that he’s a liar, and a thief, and a thousand other things that would’ve gotten him locked away by now if he wasn’t one of the smartest people I’ve known. But he’s not one of them. Trust me, if you can’t trust him. I can’t tell you that it’ll be the happiest marriage. But sometimes being safe is better than being happy.”

“Is that why you’re with your man up in London? Because he’s safe?”

“God, no. He works for the only man in this country that could kill me and face no retaliation from my brothers.” 

“Why is that?”

Amelia’s never told anyone this, either. 

“He’s family too, and they know that if he killed me, it must’ve been for a damn good reason.”

~~~

“Just the woman we wanted to see!”

Her plan had been to get a drink and some peace and quiet, but apparently it’s not to be. She’s too exhausted to argue and lets John herd her into the small room just off the entrance to the pub, taking a seat across from him, almost directly opposite Finn.

“How have you been, Finn?”

Amelia’s sure Finn mumbles something, when he ducks his head and concentrates on the papers in front of him like they’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen, but for the life of her she can’t understand the words. She shares an amused grin with Arthur and John, and takes pity on the youngest, shifting her attention to the bottle of whiskey on the table. 

She’s listening to Arthur extolling the virtues of the women of London, highly amused at his frustration at not being able to tell his stories how he wants with his youngest brother sitting there, when the door opens and Isiah steps through with someone she doesn’t recognise. The cousin, she figures. 

“Lia! I was beginning to think you’d never come out again.”

“It’s payday.”

“Told you,” he says, to the boy beside him, a triumphant grin on his face. 

“Get into a fight, did you?”

“Some idiots at the Marquis of Lorne. Tried to stop me and Isaiah from drinking, but it's all right.”

Amelia eyes the bruises, then sighs when she hears Arthur ask where Jeremiah is. Whatever follows isn’t going to be anything good. She should probably stop them, but the more Isiah talks, explaining what happened, the less inclined she is to keep them from doing something stupid. Fucking racists.

“Stay here with Amelia, alright?”

“Where are they going?”

Amelia shares a look with Isiah. 

“The Marquis of Lorne.”

“Shame,” she sighs, picking up John and Arthur’s cards to see what they’ve got in their hands, “That was a nice pub.”

“Who are you?”

“Oh, right. Amelia, this is Michael. That lost cousin you were talking about with Tommy earlier. Michael, this is the lovely Amelia. Strictly hands off,” Isiah winks at her, “If you want to keep your hands.”

“Sleeping with one of them, then?”

“Sorry?”

Michael is, apparently, entirely blind to both social cues and the warning tap on the shoulder Isiah gives him, hissing at him to shut up before he does something that he can’t take back. 

“Excuse me?”

“I thought nothing was off limits to the Peaky Blinders.”

“Alright, Amelia, we should be-”

Isiah cuts off abruptly when Amelia raises a hand to stop him. 

“What’s the rush? We were just getting better acquainted, weren’t we, Michael?”

Finn looks like he’s trying to shrink into the wall, looking down at his hands to avoid her eyes, and Isiah closes his eyes and leans his head back against the back of the booth in resignation. Michael barely spares them a glance as Amelia shuffles along the seat, around the table, until she’s sitting close enough to him that she could probably count his eyelashes. 

“You want to know what it is I do for your cousins, to make me off limits? Get a little taste of what I can do?”

“I don’t have any money left after the drinks.”

Isiah winces.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. The first one is free, just like it was for your cousins. Sound good?”

“Alright,” he says, looking at her with just a hint of colour in his cheeks, and though he tries to sound authoritative, she can hear the slight tremor in his voice from her hand on his knee. Not a lot of girls in the village, she guesses, or parents that wouldn’t let him go near any of them. “Go ahead.”

The knife in her hand is sharp, she knows, she sharpened it herself just the night before when sleep wouldn’t come, and she knows that he feels the lethal press of it against the inside of his thigh, right against where she knows very well the femoral artery runs. He goes rigid, and she leans in to whisper in his ear. 

“I don’t care who you’re related to, or what their reputation is. Imply I’m a whore again, Michael,” she drags the knife down, towards his knee, not pressing down hard enough to do any damage but enough to make the threat known, “And what they’re out doing to the men that gave you those bruises will feel like a fucking kiss from the angels above compared to what I’ll do. And when I’m done, all the whores in the world won’t be able to help you, because there won’t be anything left. Understand?”

She lets the silence stretch for a long moment, and when it becomes apparent that he’s not going to answer her, she presses down a little harder, watching as the fibres in the fabric separate neatly under the wickedly sharp blade. 

“I said, do you understand?”

“Michael-”

“Yes,” he grits out, humiliated and feeling angry about it. Less than it happened and more that it happened with an audience. “I understand.”

“Good boy.”

[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: I wanna start off by saying thank you to everyone who’s given this story so much love already. I did not expect it to get this much attention and that honestly motivates me so much to keep it going. If you didn’t see, I added my publishing schedule to my masterlist post, so be on the lookout for a chapter on Saturdays

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood

Word Count: 3618

———————————————————————

Chapter 2: Where The Hell Have You Been?

Shit.

“W-What the fuck?!” (Y/N) shouted in panic as her shaking legs backed her away from the mirror. She looked down at her trembling hands that were too small and her legs that were too short. With hesitation, she checked under her shirt before groaning. So, everything shrunk. Her mind in a haze, she sunk down to the floor and held her head in her hands. How did this happen? What was everyone gonna say? What’s Mom gonna say? What about the kids?! Her mind was running a thousand miles an hour and she couldn’t keep up with herself, but she figured she couldn’t just sit here and panic. She needed answers. So, still a little discombobulated, she collected herself the best she could and left the room to find some help.

Walking down the stairs was a bit difficult, as she wasn’t fully focusing on what she was doing or where her feet were taking her. Her newly shrunken legs dragged her outside the dining area, where she heard voices speaking, but she was barely listening to what they were saying or who was saying it, her mind anywhere else but reality.

“So are we gonna talk about what just happened?”

Oh, she would’ve loved to talk about what the hell just happened.

“It’s been seventeen years.”

“It’s been a lot longer than that.” An all too familiar voice scoffed. Well, that certainly got her attention. (Y/N) peeked into the dining area to see… Five. Her long-lost Five, still thirteen and blinking back and forth from the table to reach for marshmallows. Her (e/c) orbs followed his every movement.

“Where’ve you been?” Diego asked, eyes trained forward.

“The future. It’s shit, by the way.” Five answered as he blinked back to the table to continue making what (Y/N) saw was his favorite snack. The future? He was in the future?

“How did you get back?” Vanya questioned. Without even looking up, Five answered,

“In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.”

(Y/N) could tell that no one knew what the hell that meant by the way they instantly looked away, and Diego voiced what they all were thinking, “That makes no sense.”

“Well, it would if you were smarter.” Five quipped, not even flinching when Diego immediately stood, Luther holding him back from doing anything to their returning brother.

“How long were you there?”

“Forty-five years… Give or take.”

Luther and Diego slowly fell back into their seats as everyone sat in shock, (Y/N) leaning forward as she held onto the wall. Forty-five years… That would make him…

“You’re saying you’re fifty-eight?”

“No,” Five looked up Luther, visibly annoyed with his siblings’ lack of understanding. “My consciousness is fifty-eight. Apparently, my body is now thirteen again.” He finished making his sandwich as Vanya decided to voice their confusion again,

“How does that even work?”

“Delores kept saying the equations were off… Eh, bet she’s laughing now.”

Delores, (Y/N) began to space out. That name… I swore I’ve heard it many times before… in my dreams, maybe? That’s a weird coincidence…

“Nice to see nothing’s changed…” Five’s remark brought (Y/N) back to reality as he made his way out of the dining area.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison turned towards him.

“What else is there to… say…” Five trailed off as he came face-to-face with (Y/N). The two stared at each other, not sure if they were dreaming or just oh so lucky. While Five was ecstatic to see her after all these years, he couldn’t help but notice… she was still thirteen? But she was a grown woman when…

“Five?” (Y/N) whispered softly, carefully, as she moved closer to him, afraid if she spoke too loud, he’d disappear for another forty-five. He carefully reached out to touch her, but she beat him to it by bringing him into a hug. The way she clung to him made his heart hammer against his ribcage, and he could only hope she didn’t feel it. After taking a deep breath, he reciprocated the comfort, feeling her tears start to soak the shoulder of his too-big suit jacket. It didn’t bother him, of course. He’d longed for this comfort for years. He was going to savor it. The hug was so much different than he thought, than he had wished, than he had dreamt. He missed her so much. He thought he’d never see her again, never hold her again. This was definitely worth the forty-five...

“You dropped your sandwich…” She quietly chuckled and then sniffled as she pulled away. Five looked down to see that his food was, indeed, on the ground. In his shock and excitement, he hadn’t even noticed he dropped it.

“I’ll make another…” He muttered, (Y/N) tilting her head and smiling at him in adoration. His eyes moved up to her and his heart skipped a beat at the look she was giving him. Clearing his throat, he gently held her arm. “Come on, we should change.”

As the rest of the Hargreeves watched the two teenagers leave, Luther let out a slow breath. “Well… that was interesting.”

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

“Did you hear everything I explained?” Five asked as the two made their way upstairs, his hand on the small of (Y/N)’s back.

“Uh… you just came back from the future… you’re consciously fifty-eight… and you somehow accidentally reverted yourself to your thirteen-year-old body?” She recalled. Five shrugged.

“That’s about right,” His eyes scanned up and down her body for a second. “Why are you thirteen as well? Did that happen when I arrived?”

“If you arrived with the thunder and the flashing, then yes.”

Five hummed in either understanding or perplexity as they came to a stop in the hallway. “Well, I’m sorry. I really am… I’ll figure this out when I can.” He nodded and walked into his room, closing the door before she could respond. (Y/N) sighed, exasperated, and turned to go into her bedroom.

Right as Five finished up lacing his shoes, he heard (Y/N) knocking on his door. “Come in.” He called, hearing the door open and close afterwards. He looked up to see that she was in the same uniform as the one he wore, except she was wearing pants instead of the skirt she used to have to wear years ago.

“Where’d you get the pants?”

“Hm? Oh, Klaus’s room. I just cuffed them and wore a belt.” She motioned to her ankles and her waist. Five hummed to himself as he stood up straight. Grabbing her hand, and ignoring the tug on his heartstrings when he did so, he walked with her out of the room.

The two now stood in the parlor, gazing up at the portrait of Five. (Y/N) glanced over at him and saw that he was intently staring at it. His green eyes were narrowed under his dark lashes, his lips were pursed into a line and she wondered for a second what it would feel like to-

“Nice to know Dad didn’t forget me,” He turned to Vanya, who had just entered the room. “Read your book, by the way. Found it in a library that was still standing,” This comment made (Y/N) frown. What did he mean by that? But before she could question him, he already started walking around her to stand on her other side. “I thought it was pretty good, all things considered. Yeah, definitely ballsy, giving up the family secrets… Sure that went over well.”

“They hate me.” Vanya glanced over at (Y/N), who frowned and shook her head.

“Oh, there are worse things that can happen.”

“You mean like what happened to Ben?” She asked, and (Y/N) wondered what her point was for bringing that up. Five paused for a bit and she could see the shift in his eyes.

“Was it bad?” He whispered, glancing between the two. (Y/N) and Vanya both avoided eye contact as they nodded. The memory was so vivid in her mind that she shivered. Five only nodded in response as he turned his head away with a faraway look.

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

The black umbrellas (save for the see-through pink for Klaus) saved the Hargreeves family from the pouring rain, except for Diego and Luther, who chose no umbrellas. The family stood together as Luther stood in front of them with Reginald’s ashes.

“Did something happen?” Grace asked, a smile on her face. The siblings all stared at her in confusion before Allison answered from (Y/N)’s left,

“Dad died. Remember?”

“Oh,” Her smile fell. “Yes, of course.”

“Is Mom okay?” Allison asked Diego, who nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine,” He glanced at their robotic mother thoughtfully. “She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.”

(Y/N) turned to her right and looked past Five to see Klaus taking out a cigarette, offering it to her. She shook her head and looked down at her shoes. Soon, she turned to see Pogo walking up to the group with his own umbrella over him. He turned to Luther and nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.”

Luther looked down before pouring out their father’s ashes, the sound of the very anticlimactic thump of the ashes hitting the ground made everyone wince. His gaze slowly moved up to everyone, accompanied with a small frown. “Probably would have been better with some wind…” He nodded, (Y/N) quietly snorting. Five nudged her with a slight smirk on his face.

“Does anyone wish to speak?” Pogo looked over the family. Receiving no response, he began his heartfelt speech on Sir Reginald Hargreeves. However, in the middle of it, Diego interrupted,

“He was a monster,” This made Klaus quietly laugh as he continued. “He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego.” Allison cut in, but Diego interrupted her as well.

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it.”

“Would anyone like something to eat?” Grace asked at the mention of herself, her mechanical smile returning.

“We’re okay, Mom.” (Y/N) softly spoke.

“Oh, okay.”

“Look, you wanna pay your respects?” Diego walked near Luther, also standing in front of everyone. “Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.” And while she was a little annoyed with how Diego was acting, (Y/N) had to agree with what he was saying.

“You should stop talking now.” Luther firmly spoke, eyes trained on his brother. Diego stared at him intently for a couple seconds before walking closer to him.

“You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One.”

“I am warning you.”

“After everything he did to you… He had to ship you a million miles away-”

“Diego stop talking-”

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!” Diego pointed his finger into Luther's chest, which started a brawl between the two. Everyone backed up as Pogo yelled for them to stop. As the fighting only continued, Klaus cheered them on, and Pogo scoffed before limping back inside. Eventually the brawl moved a little too close to Ben’s statue when Five turned away. “We don’t have time for this.” He sighed and walked back into the house.

Diego urged Luther on, but when the latter lunged forward to punch, Diego moved out of the way, Luther’s fist coming into contact with the statue. It fell to the ground, Ben’s head breaking off.

“Oh…” Klaus groaned.

“And there goes Ben’s statue.” Allison decided she had enough as well and walked inside. Just when they thought the fight was over, Diego took out one of his knives.

“Diego, no!” Vanya yelled out, but was too late, for he already threw it and sliced Luther in the arm. The ape-like man gasped, panting as he covered his arm with his opposite hand. Without a word, he rushed back inside the house. Vanya came to Diego’s side, a disapproving look on her face. “You never know when to stop, do you?”

Diego shook his head as he thought of a hurtful comeback. Coming closer, he asked, “You got enough material for your sequel yet? So that can be squashed by (Y/N)’s fame, too?” He gave a small smirk before (Y/N) bristled.

“Diego-”

“He was my father, too.” Vanya weakly replied before going to join everyone else inside. He and (Y/N) shared glares before he began towards Grace.

“Mom,” He gently held her arm, the woman turning to him, that smile having never left her face. “Let’s go inside.” As they walked past Klaus, who was sitting on the bench, (Y/N) shut her eyes. This family, even after seventeen years of not seeing each other, couldn’t even get along during the funeral of the man they despised together. She opened her eyes when she heard Klaus standing to his feet, cigarette in his mouth. She could really use one right now. He strode over to the pile of Reginald’s ashes and crouched down.

“I bet you’re loving this. Hm?” He smiled over at his adopted sister before bringing his attention back to the ashes. “The team at its best. It’s just like old times.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone before he took one last drag of his cig, putting it out in the ashes. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and looked away.

“Let’s go, Klaus.”

“Sure thing, little sister,” He falsely smiled a fraction and stood up straight, walking with her back into the house. “Best funeral ever!”

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

“Nietzshe once said, ‘Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman. A rope over an abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling and halting’.”

Seventeen years ago, the seven Hargreeves stood at the bottom of the stairs, all in their green tracksuits. They were staring up at their father and Vanya, who were at the top of the stairs. After Reginald finished writing in his journal, he turned to Vanya. That was her cue to blow the whistle. When she did, her siblings began racing up the stairs with Luther taking the lead.

“As much as you must strive for individual greatness, and strive you must, for it won’t come to you of its own accord… you must also remember that there is no individual stronger than the collective.”

Seeing that he was losing to his siblings, Five blinked from his place towards the end to the front of the line.

“That’s not fair! Five cheated!” Diego yelled.

“He adapted.” Reginald corrected. (Y/N) hummed in thought from her place in front of Klaus and sang out her tune the best she could with the lack of breath she had. Two of her clones appeared, keeping up with her.

“Carry me up the stairs.” She ordered, the clones wasting no time in picking her up and racing up the steps. Once her place was in front of Five, she turned to him and waved, wearing a cheeky grin. Five’s mouth fell open.

“Wha-”

“I adapted.” She shrugged.

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

“The ties that bind you together make you stronger than you are alone.”

From behind her, (Y/N) could hear Klaus and Allison crying in pain. She herself was trying to fight off her tears as the tattoo artist inked their logo of the umbrella onto her arm. Seeing the pain on her face, Grace gently held her hand, but when she saw the look of disapproval on her father, (Y/N) slowly took her hand away.

“They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you. And believe me when I tell you…”

(Y/N) looked down the line of her brothers who were up next for their tattoo. Her eyes landed on Five, who was clearly nervous. When his panicked eyes met hers, she shakily smiled at him, grunting in pain.

“...life will be hard. It will be painful.”

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

“Five?” (Y/N) opened the boy’s door, seeing him pace around his room. He quickly looked up at her, tears in his eyes. That was all she needed to see before she walked over to him, bringing him into a warm hug. He deeply sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face into her shoulder. Their roles had been switched many times before, she was glad to be his comfort.

“We can accomplish anything when we accept responsibility together.”

She softly pet his hair as he cried, muffled by the fabric of her uniform jacket. “I’m here… I’ll always be here…”

“This is what creates trust. Together you will stand against the reign of evil.”

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

“Are those my pants, sister dear?” Klaus asked (Y/N) who was sitting on the dining table in the basement, watching Five turn the entire room upside down looking for who-knows-what.

She grinned at him. “You weren’t using them, brother dear.”

“Love the belt. That mine, too?”

“You know it is.” The two of them shared a laugh as Allison walked in.

“Where’s Vanya?” She asked as she draped her coat over one of the chairs.

“Oh, she’s gone.” Klaus answered, (Y/N) nodding to do the same. Five walked over to them, huffing in frustration.

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah.” Allison sighed, misunderstanding his comment as him talking about their sister.

He stared up at Allison. “An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.” Allison furrowed her brows.

“Dad hated caffeine.”

“Well, he hated children, too, and he had plenty of us,” Klaus laughed, but stopped when he realized no one joined in. (Y/N) shook her head and turned her attention to Five as he announced that he was taking the car. Klaus slowly sat forward, suddenly interested in the whereabouts of his “little” brother. “Where are you going?”

“To get a decent cup of coffee. (Y/N), would you like to join me?”

“I’d honestly love to, but I actually have somewhere I need to be. I’ll see you later. Love you guys.” She waved to her siblings before leaving the room. Five looked down at the table as his lips went into a thin line. He was actually hoping for an acceptance of his invitation.

“So, you’re taking the car,” Allison crossed her arms, an amused smile on her face. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“I know how to do everything.” Five hissed before blinking away.

About twenty minutes later, (Y/N) was in front of her mother’s door, a deep sigh leaving her lips. She knocked on it three times before waiting for an answer. Not too long after, her mother opened the door, confusion gradually creeping onto her face. “Um… hello-”

“Mom, it’s me. (Y/N).” The girl whispered before walking inside. Her mother closed the door and tried to get her racing mind straight.

“(Y-Y/N)? W-Why do you look like a kid?”

“At this point, I’m too tired to even think or care right now. It’s been a, uh… a very long day,” She tiredly rubbed her eyes, her mother nodding in understanding. She knew that once she took her biological daughter back into her life, nothing would be completely normal anymore. “Are my babies sleeping?”

“Yep, just passed out for the night. They miss you so much.”

“And I miss them…,” Her eyes welled up with tears. “But I can’t take care of them like this… I-I can’t explain to them what happened, they’ll never understand. They wouldn’t believe me-”

“(Y/N), honey-”

“Mom, can you please… please take care of Jada and Michael until I get everything sorted out?” Desperate gasps choked her as she tried to regulate her breathing. “I know I’m asking a lot and I never wanted to put you in this position. Hell, I thought meeting you would take all of this away, but I just brought it into your life as well…”

(Y/N) stopped her crying when her mother gently placed her hands on her shoulders, crouching down to be at eye level with her. “Hey, I love you. And I took you in, knowing things like this might happen. You make my life so thrilling and I wouldn’t make the same mistake of trading you for money ever again… I’ll take care of them, honey, I promise. But what should I tell them?”

“U-Um,” (Y/N) wiped at her eyes. “T-Tell them that I… am at a meet-and-greet with my fans… in another state. And that I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She quickly thought up an answer. Her mother looked away in thought, hesitant.

“I can do that.”

(Y/N) nodded before heading to the room the two children were sleeping in. Her heart warmed as she watched them sleep. Jada’s head rested atop Michael’s stomach, his hand atop her head. The way Michael slept with his eyebrows drawn together reminded her so much of Anthony that she let out a sob. With slow steps, she approached the two, leaning down and giving them each a kiss on the cheek. She rested her forehead on the bed sheets for some time, savoring the sweet time she has with them, before leaving the room.

“Night, Mom,” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’ll check on you guys when I can.”

“Please, be careful out there, honey.”

“Yes, ma’am. I love you.” She sadly smiled before walking out the door.

———————————————————————

Taglist: @five-motherfucking-hargreeves @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs

[robininthelabyrinth]

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

- Chapter 7 -

“Why are you covered in feathers?” Jiang Cheng asked, and then immediately afterward added, “On second thought, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”

Lan Wangji checked himself over and brushed off the few feathers that had ended up on his shoulder. “Are there any others?” he asked solemnly. “They might be evidence.”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched, as Lan Wangji had intended. “I don’t want to know,” he repeated, and Lan Wangji believed it about as much as he’d believed it the first time Jiang Cheng said it – which was to say, not at all. “I don’t want to…okay, fine, tell me.”

“You don’t want to know,” Lan Wangji informed him, and Jiang Cheng looked as though he was considering strangling him. “I will explain later. For the moment, it is best to pretend as if you know nothing.”

“I really don’t know anything,” Jiang Cheng said.

“That will make pretending easier.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him, but stopped arguing, and Lan Wangji felt warmth in his belly at the instant capitulation. All of his life experiences had conspired to make Jiang Cheng an untrusting person, suspicious almost to the point of paranoia and constantly afraid of losing everything to the unknown, and yet he chose to trust Lan Wangji without question.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jiang Cheng asked with one of his friendlier scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or not know, as the case may be?”

Lan Wangji considered for a moment. “Don’t count the number of Jiang sect disciples leaving with you,” he suggested, and Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows shot up. “Consider storming out in a fury the next time someone insults you.”

“You were right,” Jiang Cheng said. “I didn’t want to know.”

Lan Wangji heard footsteps and put his hands behind his back. “Naturally, Sect Leader Jiang is entitled to change his mind. I understand it happens often.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. “You must be struggling with coming out of seclusion, Hanguang-jun,” he remarked. “To come mucking around with the rest of us after spending so long on - avoiding worldly matters, let’s say.”

The sect leaders passing by sped up with expressions suggesting that they were dreadfully curious but did not want to get involved in a repeat of the fight that was rather infamously had throughout the Lotus Pier, with all of the attendant property damage (that they’d paid for later, but still).

Once they’d passed, Lan Wangji gave Jiang Cheng a look that suggested he did not appreciate the joke. Jiang Cheng appeared undeterred.

He also appeared, on closer examination, somewhat tired.

Lan Wangji frowned and stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You have not slept.”

“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and realized his mistake at once – such excess vehemence meant that he was lying, and badly, too. “It’s your fault, anyway.”

“My fault?”

“Entirely your fault. I can’t eat my lunch without wondering why you’re not plucking away on your guqin the way you normally do at that hour, I can’t finish my paperwork without trying to find you to ask for your views, I can’t sleep without hearing you making noise next door…who made you fit yourself in so well at the Lotus Pier?”

“You,” Lan Wangji said dryly, ignoring the warmth he felt. Surely it was wrong to feel touched when someone’s unhealthy co-dependence with you was mentioned. “When you kidnapped me.”

“It was only technically kidnapping,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “And only at first, anyway…really, it’s no big deal. Just had a few bad nights.”

Jiang Cheng’s nights fell on a scale between decent, mediocre, bad, and genuinely horrific, and he generally only conceded that something was ‘bad’ when it fell toward the lower end of the scale – when his thoughts kept scattering like a flock of bird being chased off their perch, returning to circle around sore subjects and drill worries into his skull, when there would be blood and bile and panic and his mind would linger on anxieties he had long ago put aside in the light of day.

He hadn’t had one of those in months – and now he had had a few?

“Because I…?”

Jiang Cheng shook his head. “A-Ling had a temper tantrum last week,” he explained, voice low and more than a little helpless. “I think he misses you and A-Yuan, and he’s at the age for pushing his boundaries, too…he told me that his Wei-jiujiu wouldn’t have made him eat his vegetables.”

He would have, of course, Lan Wangji reflected. He remembered how Wei Wuxian had been with A-Yuan, always mercilessly teasing him. Wei Wuxian had a spine when it came to children, one that wouldn’t crack into a thousand pieces at the first sob – that was Jiang Cheng, who was all bluster and bark without the slightest bit of bite.

But that wasn’t the issue, not when Jiang Cheng’s soul was a patchwork of ragged wounds and insecurity, a lifetime of being second-best and second-loved, and on his worst days he would voice doubts that he’d even been esteemed as much as that.

By his father, by his mother, by his sister, by Wei Wuxian himself –  

“Maybe he would’ve done better,” Jiang Cheng murmured, his eyes already blank with self-hatred – no doubt this was what had kept him up on those bad nights, the angry whispers of a too-fragile mind that said why did he leave me, why wasn’t I good enough, he said he’d stay by my side and then took the first chance he could to leave me behind, that said it couldn’t have been him that did all those things and betrayed me like that, no, he must have died earlier on and it was my fault for not noticing, that said if it’s all my fault then it all makes sense, it’s always because of me, no one ever stays with me.

That said if it’s my fault then it’ll happen again.

Lan Wangji did not like those nights.

“Mm,” he said mildly. “And then A-Ling would also know how to hide dirty pictures in awkward places.”

Lan Wangji had never been good at comforting people, having always been the one being comforted, and his failure to convey his feelings to Wei Wuxian during his life spoke volumes regarding his ability to communicate – but he knew Jiang Cheng.

After so long living together, he knew him.

(Jiang Cheng wasn’t the only one who had difficulty sleeping without those familiar sounds next door.)

Sure enough, Jiang Cheng choked, his eyes clearing up, and he spent the next few breaths struggling not to burst out laughing. “We’re supposed to be arguing,” he hissed at Lan Wangji, who smirked – from a distance it would certainly look as though they were arguing, Jiang Cheng’s cheeks all red and his shoulders shaking in what a stranger might mistake for rage. “You stone-faced bastard, that’s not funny.”

Lan Wangji disagreed. Jiang Cheng’s reaction was, in fact, extremely funny.

“We will need to diversify our collection of such things,” Lan Wangji said thoughtfully. “Given the inclinations of our future house guest…”

“I am not buying Mo Xuanyu pictures of – ! He can buy it himself if he wants…wait, you’re really planning to have him come with us?”

“He will die if he remains,” Lan Wangji said simply, because it was that simple. Their conversation, however brief, had been extremely informative. “And so he must not remain. We have concocted a plan.”

“We? I wasn’t involved in this.”

“Myself, and Nie Huaisang.”

Lan Wangji was expecting some sort of reaction to that – what, he wasn’t sure, possibly disbelief or ridicule or even panic that they were entrusting themselves to the most useless fop to grace the current generation of cultivators – but instead Jiang Cheng relaxed, looking pleased. “Oh, well, Nie Huaisang,” he said, as if that explained anything at all.

“You trust him?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “I don’t not trust him?” he hazarded, and seemed rather helplessly puzzled by his own ease with the situation. “He’s terrible at anything a sect heir ought to be good at, but he’ll come up with the wildest sort of things if it’s nonsense he’s after, and he usually gets his way in the end. He’s a pretty good judge as to how likely his chances at success are, too.”

“He’s smarter than he looks,” Lan Wangji agreed, his voice neutral.

“Don’t tell me you fell for his ‘who, me, a person capable of doing anything, surely not’ act,” Jiang Cheng said, looking vastly amused. Lan Wangji might normally object to such teasing, but if it got Jiang Cheng away from his dangerous self-hatred, he’d take it – even if the idea that Jiang Cheng, master of obliviousness, had correctly judged a person that he himself had misjudged seemed just plain wrong. “He just does that to anyone he thinks might squeal on him to his brother.”

Lan Wangji probably would have, too. Still, he felt that Jiang Cheng should have warned him better.

He glared.

“Second Young Master Lan has no grounds for complaining at his own lack of perception,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji noted again the presence of people in their vicinity. “It’s all that navel-gazing you do in the Cloud Recesses, no doubt – should I start to worry about A-Yuan?”

“Lan Yuan,” Lan Wangji said snippily, then added, “Lan Sizhui.”

Jin Rulan, Jiang Cheng mouthed at him, and both of them were forced to briefly avert their faces in sheer amusement. Poor Jin Ling – no one would ever call him by his courtesy name, not if even his two guardians weren’t able to keep a straight face.

(Well, comparatively speaking. Lan Wangji was well aware that his own expression of deep amusement looked, to the uninitiated, exactly like his neutral expression but for a very slight narrowing of the eyes.)

The footsteps passed, and Jiang Cheng relaxed once more. Lan Wangji was pleased to see it, but acknowledged that if they were to keep up the pretense of disliking each other, deplorable political necessity that it was, they would need to do better in the future.

“Today will be a disaster,” Lan Wangji murmured, a warning. “But beneficial in the long run. Do not take what they say to heart.”

He would not have said it if Jiang Cheng was not more fragile than usual. Normally, Jiang Cheng could, after years of practice, let insults flow off his back like water from a duck, unmoving and uncaring – he was a flawed man in many ways, Lan Wangji acknowledged, but he generally only had to make a mistake once to learn from it.

For instance, he would never again allow the poisoned words of others to interfere with those he loved.

Not when he still tormented himself for not having done more for Wei Wuxian, as if there had been more Jiang Cheng could have done without losing everything else he held dear – not even Lan Wangji, who was helplessly and hopelessly in love with Wei Wuxian and couldn’t keep himself from sometimes playing Inquiry in search of him, summoned his ghost into their lives so often as Jiang Cheng did.

“Sometimes I wonder what goes through your head,” Jiang Cheng remarked, glaring at the perceived commentary about his lack of emotional resiliency no matter how accurate. “And then I realize I don’t want to know.”

“Lying is forbidden.”

“I am not a Lan. And, yes, fine, it’s a lie. If I could crack you open and crawl into your head, I probably would, but that doesn’t make you special or anything. I’d do that to most people.”

Lan Wangji believed it – Jiang Cheng was just that insecure.

He didn’t let Jiang Cheng change the subject, though, continuing to stare at him until Jiang Cheng shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll prepare for a calamity and storm out as quickly as possible. What are they possibly going to say about me now?”

They said he was like his father.

It was usually meant as a compliment, but not always. In this case, it was the latter: the implication that Jiang Cheng would, like his father, eventually forget to care for the child he already had when another, better one came along put an especially ugly expression on his face.

As Nie Huaisang had gleefully predicted, Jin Guangshan was enraged to the point of maddening by the prank they had pulled and framed Mo Xuanyu for. Nor could he be blamed, the prank was positive infantile, and highlighted Mo Xuanyu’s relative youth and immaturity, losing his father and sect face in the process. Everyone had wanted to talk about that, about how extremely obvious it was that Mo Xuanyu’s only use was to humiliate the already legitimized Jin Guangyao, but in deference to their host they turned their conversation onto past examples like Jiang Fengmian – and, of course, the more recent example of the ongoing fight between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over Lan Sizhui.

Jiang Cheng had had no choice but to ignore it, no matter how his face purpled in rage at the suggestion that he might neglect either Lan Sizhui or Jin Ling in favor of the other.  Still, no one had really questioned it when he left in a huff not long after in response to an extremely unfortunate comment by the ever-feckless Nie Huaisang (of course: Lan Wangji shouldn’t have doubted him) about the ability of young men to handle child-rearing, returning to the Lotus Pier in a fury with a parting shot about how the Lotus Pier, at least, did not follow the Wen sect in encouraging the indoctrination of children – a vicious and unwarrented smear regarding the Lan sect’s lectures that made Lan Qiren almost visibly see red and Lan Xichen frown but which Lan Wangji thought was rather useful to their ultimate goal.

When later it was discovered that Mo Xuanyu had apparently run away – and based on the clues that had been left behind, that he must have pulled off his escape by disguising himself as part of Jiang Cheng’s retinue – Jin Guangshan was so angry that smoke nearly poured out of his ears, to the point that Jin Guangyao hastily came up with some excuse to briefly remove him from the scene.

Nie Huaisang winked at Lan Wangji from behind his fan, looking pleased with himself, and he looked so ridiculous that Lan Wangji had to forcefully remind himself once again of his personal revelation that the second young master of Qinghe Nie was far away from being the useless waste that he presented himself as.

Far more effective a reminder, though, was Jin Guangshan’s announcement later that day that he would indulge Mo Xuanyu’s desire for a little bit of freedom – natural in a boy of that age, he’d chuckled, playing the indulgent father – by requesting that Jiang Cheng keep him for some time at the Lotus Pier to tutor his young cousin Jin Ling in the ways of Lanling Jin.

Just as Nie Huaisang had so enthusiastically and confidently said he would.

“And with Hanguang-jun there to supervise, there will be no question of misconduct,” Chifeng-zun said, nodding in approval at the proposal. “Your son and grandson will benefit twice over! I think our younger generation is stronger for having all gathered together in one place, whether learning at the Cloud Recesses or resisting the oppression of the Wen sect…”

“That requires there to be a younger generation,” someone in the crowd interjected, as they almost always did when someone of their present generation mentioned the next. “Sect Leader Nie, don’t you think it’s time you settled down?”

“Why are you looking to me?” he demanded, looking annoyed. “Zewu-jun is equally unattached, and he ranks first on the list of women’s hearts, doesn’t he?”

“On the list of young masters, of which I no longer count,” Lan Xichen stressed hastily, holding up his hands in a vain attempt to ward off the discussion topic. “At any rate, I’m far too busy to be interested in courting at the moment – anyway, wasn’t Sandu Shengshou trying to set up a match some time back?”

“Didn’t he get blackballed?” Sect Leader Qin, ever Jin Guangshan’s faithful dog, interjected, always on the look-out for a way to denigrate the other Great Sects. “I didn’t even know that was possible –”

“At least he’s demonstrated the ability to care for a child –”

Lan Wangji decided that that was an excellent time to make his escape. This was one situation in which he especially did not want to get held up as a positive comparison.

His uncle went with him.

“Very cleverly done,” Lan Qiren remarked as they strolled into one of the many gardens that peppered Lanling City and Jinlin Tower in particular, and Lan Wangji looked at him sidelong. “Matchmaking and children are the favorite subjects of old men; by the time the noise dies down, Sect Leader Jin’s decision as to his newest son will be considered as settled and unquestionable. It was good of your brother – and Chifeng-zun, of course – to throw themselves on their swords for you.”

Lan Wangji put his hands behind his back, uncomfortable. “I did not ask them to act.”

His uncle said nothing. He didn’t need to – if perhaps Chifeng-zun was somewhat opaque to them both, his sheer straightforwardness ironically enough serving to conceal any subtle thoughts he might have, Lan Xichen was as clear as a calm lake. He had jumped into the conversation at just the right moment, saying words that would only inflame the situation rather than calm it, displaying just enough dismay to be humorous without actually appearing, to those that knew him well, to be surprised at all.

“It was Nie Huaisang’s idea,” Lan Wangji added, and that did get Lan Qiren’s eyebrows to rise up in surprise. Probably wondering, just as Lan Wangji was, when exactly Nie Huaisang had had the opportunity to rope the Venerated Triad into his scheme – as far as Lan Wangji could tell, he hadn’t had any opportunity to speak to them.

Still, however intriguing the speculation was, it wasn’t enough to dissuade his uncle from his target.  

“The motivation was yours,” he said, the question implicit.

“Mo Xuanyu requested Jiang Cheng’s assistance,” Lan Wangji explained. “He is – unhappy, in Lanling, and ill-suited to it. Jiang Cheng feared that he might one day bring harm upon himself if he remained.”

His uncle nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. “Having him at the Lotus Pier to teach Jin Ling the ways of Lanling Jin also means that there is no urgent need for Jin Ling to return to Lanling himself. He can remain with Sect Leader Jiang.”

“Yes.”

His uncle huffed out a breath and leaned down to smell one of the flowers. “I will give you some books before you return to the Lotus Pier,” he said. “Mo Xuanyu is already past thirteen; it is not at all the same as dealing with small children. You will need to be prepared.”

Lan Wangji looked at his uncle, a little surprised. He had expected more resistance to this scheming plot, which was not at all in line with Lan sect principles.

“Mo Xuanyu is old enough to make his own decisions,” his uncle said, his eyes still fixed on the flower. “If he cannot happy here, he should go to where he can be.”

Lan Wangji’s heart trembled within his chest. He’d thought – his uncle, who had led the charge at the Burial Mounds, who had been the most disappointed at all of his choices–

“I am sorry that we did not suit you, Wangji.”

Lan Wangji exhaled, hard, feeling a stinging feeling in his eyes and nose.

He had not expected an apology.

It didn’t change everything all at once, of course. He was still angry, still spiteful, still furious, fill of bile and bone-deep rage at how his own family had so thoroughly failed to trust in him that they would take away even his right to choose. His belly was heavy with his resentment at how they disapproved of him, how they were ashamed of him, and it would take more than mere words to liberate him from it.

But still, he had to admit – there was something more complicated about it now.

It had been easier, he thought, to be merely angry.

“It was not you,” he said, a small concession. “If the circumstances were different, I could have lived my whole life at the Cloud Recesses with no dissatisfaction.”

“But they aren’t,” his uncle said, bowing his head in understanding. “And you can’t. I – do not understand, and I do not like it, but that is not necessary. It is still my dearest wish for you to be happy and safe.”

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure that being truly happy was possible in a world that lacked Wei Wuxian – a world his uncle had helped bring about with his own two hands – but he knew that the life he had built with Jiang Cheng in the Lotus Pier, warm and tightly packed and full of worries as it was, was as close as he would come, and a life of solitude and distance and tranquility at the Cloud Recesses would only be worse.

“I have another month left before I return,” he pointed out, seeking to change the subject.

“Not after that conversation,” Lan Qiren said, looking reluctantly amused. “You will be sent to the Lotus Pier as soon as can be managed to make sure that everyone is being properly supervised.”

“Jiang Cheng can supervise.”

“Jiang Wanyin won’t.”

Lan Wangji bowed his head to hide a smile. His uncle wasn’t wrong.

And he had to admit - he wouldn’t miss Jiang Cheng dealing with a teenager for the world.

[oh-ranpo]

something special.

pairing: chase davenport x reader an: this is purely self-indulgent because i’ve been re-watching Lab Rats and I forgot just how much i loved Chase lmao I’m about four years too late to this fandom but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️this is also unedited so... woops. word count: 2k+

“I’m late.” Those were the first words out of his mouth once the dust settled. “She’s going to think I’m not coming,” were the next.

Bree and Adam couldn’t believe what they were hearing as they rushed over to their brother to help him to his feet. They had just managed to stop a massive explosion at the power plant a town over from theirs, and it had been one of the most taxing missions in a while. Bree and Adam were exhausted. They had no idea how Chase was even thinking clearly as he had been the one to take the brunt of the last bit of action.

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Adam asked, as he pulled Chase up and draped his arm over his shoulder. “We need to get you home.”

Chase adamantly shook his head as he tried to pull away, his feet stumbling slightly as he now fell into Bree instead. There was a panicked look on his face, and it was not from the intense situation that he had just gotten himself out of.

“No, no. YN. We had a date planned, she’s… she’s going to be upset if I’m not there.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. Adam and Bree exchanged a look as Chase stood up a little bit straighter. He wasn’t just babbling nonsense. He was babbling about you.

“I’m sure she’ll understand, but Chase, you aren’t fit to go anywhere. You can barely stand,” Bree murmured carefully as Chase quickly turned to look at her.

“Bree, I’m fine. I just… I have to go,” he insisted, and he quickly turned back to the transport that had brought the three of them to the power plant, forcing Bree and Adam to follow behind him. Bree looked to Adam for some assistance, but instead of support, she found him shrugging instead.

“He’s right. If he found a girl that’s willing to put up with him, he really needs to find a way to make it work. Who knows if he’ll find another girl as cool as her again.” Bree rolled her eyes and huffed as they continued making their way in the direction that Chase had disappeared to. Despite having so much taken out of him, he was moving surprisingly fast.

No one spoke the entire ride back, and as soon as they reached their house, Chase immediately turned and headed in the opposite direction.

“Tell Mr. Davenport I’ll be back,” he called over his shoulder, and while Bree could have easily caught up with him, and Adam could have easily stopped them, neither one of them did. Maybe they should have, but they could tell from the look in his eye how much this meant to him. Once he was with you, they had no doubts that he would be in good hands.

“I can’t believe he’s just going like this. He didn’t even change,” Bree mused, and Adam looked down at her.

“She already knows our secret. It’s not like she hasn’t seen him in his mission suit before. In fact, I’m sure it’s probably the best outfit he owns.” Bree rolled her eyes again, and the two of them headed inside to get some rest themselves.

Chase, on the other hand, was on a whole new mission. He had promised you that he would meet you at the ice cream shop nearby, and he was supposed to be there almost an hour ago. He didn’t have his phone on him, and he had no idea if you would still be there, but he could hope. Hope was all that was keeping him from collapsing on the side of the road.

He didn’t even stop once to think about his appearance. He didn’t bother getting cleaned up or changing his outfit, so imagine your surprise when you stepped out of the ice cream shop, just as he was walking up, and turned to see him covered in ash and soot.

“Chase?” The sound of your voice cut him out of his trance, and Chase felt like he had found his second wind. The look on your face was filled with worry, but that didn’t stop him from rushing into your arms, pulling you into a hug as he pressed his face into your neck.

“I was afraid I missed you,” he murmured against your skin just before pulling away. Your hands immediately came up to cup his cheeks, your eyes scanning his face for any signs of injury.

“Did you just come from a mission?” You asked quietly so that no one could overhear you. You backed him away from the door and towards the side of the building so that people inside the shop couldn’t see him through the window and question the strange outfit he was wearing. “Why are you still in your suit?”

Chase didn’t look down at his outfit as he was too busy studying your face. He had a photographic memory, but the mental images of you never compared to the real thing. He was always captivated by every freckle and dimple, no matter how many times he saw them.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he replied, ignoring your previous questions. “Things took a little bit longer than we expected, but then I rushed straight here. I didn’t… I didn’t want you to think that I stood you up on purpose.”

The expression on your face softened as he spoke, and your hand caressed his cheek gently. Sure, while you had been confused about where he could be for the past hour, you knew that something had to have come up. It wasn’t like Chase to leave you hanging. And considering you knew about his bionics, you were sure there was a logical reason. You had been correct.

“You could have just called me when you got home,” you told him as his head leaned into your touch. “I would have understood. But you look exhausted. You should probably get home.”

“No!” He interjected instantly, causing you to jump. “I mean, no. I want to be here. I want to be with you. Right now.” You smiled softly before nodding.

“Can I at least get you some ice cream?” It was Chase’s turn to nod.

Since he was still dressed in his special mission suit, you went in to order by yourself, and then you brought it back out so that he could eat it while the two of you walked back in the direction of his house. You weren’t going to rush him inside, but you knew that he needed to be close to home in case he started to crash.

“You really are a mess, though,” you laughed, just as Chase managed to get a spot of ice cream on his nose. “Where was your mission? The dump?”

“Power plant, actually. There was a lot of dust from the fire that almost caused an explosion.”

“Fire? Explosion?” Your steps had come to a stop as you felt your heart plummet to your feet. “Chase, you were…”

It took a minute for his own words to process, and then his eyes widened as he stepped towards you. The ice cream in his hand was forgotten as he reached out for you.

“It’s fine, I’m fine! I promise. It was just a little thing, and we managed to put a stop to it before it got too bad.” You hated the way your body had reacted to the description of his mission, and you couldn’t stop yourself from folding yourself into him as his arms wrapped around you. You knew that he got mixed up in some dangerous things, but you never really thought about how dangerous.

Chase didn’t move for several seconds as he held you until you realized how ridiculous you were being. He had just been (almost) involved in an explosion, and he was the one holding you? It seemed a little backwards.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You asked as you leaned your head back to look at him. He nodded before leaning in and resting his head against yours.

“I’m perfect now.”

His words were so quiet and soft, you weren’t sure that you were meant to hear them, but when they hit your ears, your stomach filled with butterflies. You had no idea how you had managed to find yourself here, in this position, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You and Chase had only recently started hanging out, and you knew before that he had a crush on you. You had a crush on him too. There was always something about him that held your attention, even though everyone else at school seemed to think that he was weird. He was smarter than most people, and when you had stumbled upon his bionic abilities by accident, you had learned just how true that was. Now, as you stood on the sidewalk just down the street from his house, with his arm around you, you were more grateful than ever that he had finally mustered up the courage to ask you out before you had to do it yourself.

“Chase,” you whispered as he lifted his head away from yours, his green eyes meeting yours curiously. You didn’t have anything else that you wanted to say, but you wanted him to be looking at you so that you could gauge his reaction as you lifted your hand to cup his cheek once more before moving in closer. The two of you had never shared a moment like this one before, and while you weren’t sure that the timing was perfect, you couldn’t wait any longer.

You and Chase hadn’t kissed before, and you knew that he was nervous about it. You were sure that there had been a few times he almost did, but then he chickened out. Chase was great at a lot of things, but knowing how to act around a girl that he liked was not one of them. This only became more clear as you leaned in closer, and he remained motionless, his eyes fixed on you, as if he had no idea what to do.

Slowly, your eyes slipped shut as you completely closed the distance between you, your lips pressing against his gently. As you kept them pressed together, you felt Chase sigh as his body melted against yours before finally kissing you back. You couldn’t quite explain the feeling that spread through you, but when you did finally break apart, you already knew that you couldn’t wait to do it again.

The look on Chase’s face was one of pure adoration, and you felt like putty in his hands. You had never met someone that could affect you in such a way with just one look, but here you were.

“I could go on a thousand missions like the one today if I had this waiting at the end of it,” he whispered softly, and you felt your heart jump in your chest as a bright smile spread across your face.

“Play your cards right, and it just might,” you teased back as your finger tapped his nose, causing his own smile to grow.

“Thank you for understanding,” he added a moment later. “I know this has to be confusing, and I know that it sucks when I get called out when we have plans but I…”

“You don’t have to explain,” you cut in, your arm falling away from him as you slipped your hand into his free one. “I get it.”

And you did. You knew it and Chase knew it, and it was one of the reasons he was so crazy about you. For most of the day, every day, Chase had to pretend to be something that he wasn’t. Normal. But with you, he could be exactly who he was. There was no holding back, there were no secrets, and he never wanted there to be. He didn’t know a lot about love or relationships, but he knew you were different, and he knew that whatever life threw at him next, he wanted you there with him.

Despite the chaos, you wanted the same thing. Chase was special in more ways than one, and you were grateful that you were the one that got to see just how much.

[trashcapableofsentience]

Quotes from The Second String by Eider_Down

'The ‘greater good,’ Elphias? Yes, yes, I can see that. But after today, I cannot help but wonder what it will take to finally subdue that elusive beast! If we keep on as we have been, sacrificing decency and right for the sake of this greater good, I suspect when we finally track it down we’ll discover only the corpse of a thing we killed long ago with a thousand arrows made from all the littler evils that we perpetrated and allowed.'

- A politician on the forest and the trees

'I just don’t like seeing people I thought were good not being good, I guess. Makes me think of how they would have treated me if things were just a bit different … And I’m mad at myself for never noticing how people like you are treated, I guess.'

- A police officer

'I know, lad. Been times I don’t want to be human either. But I am. And you are.'

- A bartender

'No one cares about the truth when it involves the likes of us. I expect you know that already, but don’t dare forget it.'

- A word of advice, from one squib to another

'Leave the real world for those of us who know how to live in it.'

- A word of advice, from one teenager to four

'…sometimes being thought nothing is a lot safer and smarter than being something.'

- A boy's reasoning on how he will stay safe

'It’s different because I chose to be here.'

- On homes, old and new

'It is so very easy, after all, to occupy the moral high ground when the responsibility for orchestrating a defense of thousands does not rest on your shoulders, isn’t it?'

- A war general to his brother

'Lily, this is war. But it isn’t a war between side one and side two. There’s lots of other people involved, people risking everything. I’m guessing that if they believe they can trust you, they’ll risk their lives to help your family. But you can’t just ask for someone’s help and not be prepared to help protect them in turn.'

- A response to a plea for help

'...most think we’ve reached a lull in the war. We haven’t. Just the ‘right sort’ aren’t dying right now.'

- A tired pirate Captain who is, ostensibly, of the right sort himself

'Maybe I just didn’t know the man he had been, only the man he became... And maybe Dumbledore wouldn’t have become the man I trusted back home if he hadn’t done all those things in his past that make me trust him a little less now.'

- On reconciling one's past self with the present

'Stupid’s too stupid sometimes to make sense.'

- On hate

'If you ever become a father, do your kids and favor and let someone else pick the names, boy.'

- A good point made to Harry Potter that he didn't heed in canon

'...you’ll find as you get older that people come in and out of your life like customers in a shop. Sometimes, you’ll meet someone – a friend, a lover, whatever – who seems the most important person who ever lived to you. At least for a while. And then you part, for whatever reason, and they become just a memory. This person was never family. No, lad, one day you’ll look back and realize that your truest family were those who entered your life, maybe even without you noticing much, and just stayed around as long as they could, long past all the others who entered in a blaze but whose importance to you gradually fizzled away.'

- A fitting eulogy to a man who was family to all who lost theirs

'It was all so horribly final.'

- A boy grieving the loss of his second life, a third of the way into his story

'Make no mistake, this ain’t evil or a Dark Lord we’re rallyin’ against. It’s a civil war.'

- An unfortunate truth about war

'Cause the world is bloody unfair and shitstains who don’t deserve it tend to get ahead.'

- A squib on why he assumed the best for a crap person

Got too stuck into the story from here and forgot to record more quotes, so I stopped. Show this to anyone who thinks fanfic isn't worth anything.

[uglyshirtsinc]

AIGHT HERE WE GO BUCKLE UP!! Endermen hybrids Illumina, Purpled, and Ranboo! With a sprinkle of Technodad and Sonboo, a drizzle of Little Brother Purpled and Big Brother Punz, with a side of Illumina and Fruit friendship! Less go! This was meant to be a ramble but literally ended up a fic outline?? Could even be read as a fic if you wanted??? What the hell 6 am me???

Endermen hyrbid are valuable because since they're half human instead of making enderpearls they make eyes of ender, and they respawn like humans do so they're used to farm ender eyes.

Ranboo meets Illumina and Purpled after being kidnapped and separated from his dad at the wee age of eleven meets sixteen year old Illumina and eleven year old Purpled.

He's tossed into a cell with the two of them, Illumina being there to calm the younger two down after being used for the farm. Whenever Illumina is brought back to the cell, he cares for the boys and dotes on them, acting much more worried and clingy that normal. They let him take care of them, knowing that keeping them safe calms him.

They talk about their lives before being taken, Illumina talks about the adventures he and his friend Fruit would go on. The dangerous things they did. He promises the boys to one day show them cool tricks, using the excuse of "the cell is too tiny and someone would get hurt" as to why he can't show them off there, not wanting to tell them the little portions of food he recieves (even less considering he gives most to the boys) has eaten away at his strength.

Purpled talks about his adoptive brother Punz who's just a bit older than Illumina, at age seventeen. How he was a cool mercenary hired to do "super secret" stuff and protect people. He tells them about his trident and tomahawk.

When Ranboo opened up, it gave Illumina his first real sense of hope he's had in a long time. Ran talks about his dad, emperor of the Antarctic Empire and faithful patron of the powerful Blood God. Illumina had heard of the Arctic Empire's hybrid son and after story after story began to believe that Ran really was the prince of the Empire. Ran's father obviously loved him, each story leaving him in tears of either longing or laughter. His father would be searching for them, and he would find them.

Weeks turned to months and nothing changed, until Ran was on the floor screaming in pain and Purpled was hiding in the corner wailing in fear. Illumina could hear cracking, popping, and spotted two hard lumps just next to Ranboo's shoulder blades and realized he wasn't just some Enderman hybrid, but rather a dragon hybrid. When the pain finally subsided and their captors returned to take the two young boys Illumina knew what he had to do.

He didn't know much of Gods and patrons, only what he read while searching the strongholds with Fruit after their latest adventure.

Patrons were messy, being worthy to have one and be a follower was even messier. But within that moment, he didn't care. Thousands of voices in his head was better than having to witness those monsters that held them captive force Ran to cough and gag and wheeze in attempt to get Dragons Breath from the boy. It was worth it to return Purpled to his brother, to see the boys eyes light up the same way they did when Ran said his dad would save them. And for just a moment, Illumina let himself be selfish. It was worth it to get to hold his best friend close, to be strong enough to scale buildings and run from golems they'd messed with. To see the sunrise over a snowy mountain, to show the world he was faster, stronger, and smarter than anyone imagined.

Cutting his hand on a jagged rock sticking from the walls that he had warned the boys about so often, be used his own blood to draw the symbol. When it glows and the world fades, stands before him a towering man with hair as white as snow, wearing the finest attire fit for a king, dressed in gold with everything he wore.

Wordlessly, a deal is made and as their hands shake Illumina is staring into dark, ruby red eyes sparkling with a beast like excitement. The Blood God speaks and tells him "They have been waiting." And Illumina knows what he means.

When the world returns, his ragged and dirty clothes are replaced by the ones he would wear before the monsters took him. A pouch of emeralds hangs from his belt and a familiar black mask covers his nose and mouth. His strength has returned, but at a cost he has yet to find out.

There's no whispers, no cries, no one yelling in his head. There's no insanity blocking his train of thought. No amnesia. He is Illumina.

He wraps himself with the one thin blanket they were allowed, curling up near the gate to keep himself and his clothes covered.

Purpled is first to return and Illumina places a figer over his lips, signaling Purpled to stay quiet. When Ran returns, it takes Illumina less than thirty seconds to have the monstrous man on the ground unconscious. Ran and Purpled watch in awe as he checks the horrid man for anything of value to them. A ring of keys, a pouch of coin, an iron sword, and a map are all Illumina deems worthy.

While his strength has returned, he's mindful of the boys and their weak bodies. He carries Purpled on his back, the violet eyed boy the smallest out of them all.

It takes hours to escape their prison mostly undetected. When they do, Illumina grabs the first horse he can find that's saddled up and tells the boys to hold on as he rides off.

The map was appreciated beyond comprehension. It doesn't take long to find a town and get the boys proper clothing that will survive the journey to the Arctic. Keeping them close and their heads down they get what they need tools wise and leave before the sun can even set.

It's hard, telling Purpled that he'll have to wait even longer to see his brother, but promises once they return Ranboo home that Punz can come there to take him home. If Illumina must admit, he chooses Technoblade first because once it hits the news of the princes return and Illumina's name is spread, he hopes Fruit will come and find him, even if they have to meet in the middle.

Throughout the terror and pain, they push through. From the nights they got separated, Purpled clinging to Ran and assuring the dragon hybrid Illumina will find them, fighting off zombies when Ran couldn't stand straight to hold a sword. The relief when Illumina scoops them both into his arms and holds then tighter than before.

With hunters hot on their tail they can't afford to stop and it takes four months itself to reach the borders between the Arctic Empire and whatever land they found themselves in.

Ran's wings have grown in, one a dark, scaley black with brilliant green in the folds between each bone. The other is a is white and reminds Illumina of a jellyfish, bits and tassles hanging from the wing giving it a much more fragile, paper thin appearance. Both are incredibly strong, despite their looks, and it's often the intimidation factor the two wings bring that gets them out of sticky situations.

A year has passed since they've been held in captivity, Illumina now seventeen and the boys twelve.

Illumina buys the cheapest tickets to the Empire, having to hold Ran's hand to keep him from teleporting ahead in excitement. He cries multiple times, the feeling of finally being free and so close to home hitting him like a truck. Illumina sees the excitement on Purpleds face, knowing after Ran he gets his family too.

They arrive on the island and immediately Ranboo is dragging them the way to the inner walls. Claiming to know his home like the back of his hand. Passing by a few guards, Purpled asks why they don't just tell the guards they have the prince.

"The guards were the whole reason Ranboo ended up where he was, plus they could try killing us immediately thinking we took Ran. I can't risk putting you two in any more danger." Is the reply he gets.

They teleport to the other side of the walls easily, walking to the other, and teleporting. This repeats for two days till they reach the inner most wall. Techno stands on a platform in the town center, his expression showing no emotion and stance as proper as ever. Just watching him stand so straight makes Illumina's back ache.

Ranboo sobs on the spot and before he can call for his father and rush forward a hand is placed on Illumina's shoulder with a harsh grip.

The guard asks who they are, saying they most definitely are not meant to be there, and within that moment a rage so heavy it hits Illumina like a tidal wave.

A year of torture and pain, months of walking and risking his life to get here and right as he can reach it someone stops him. Illumina barely registers it before the boys jump back screaming and he's pulled his sword out to hit the other man.

He faintly hears cries of "Harvey!" As more people rush towards them. He can only focus on his blade pressing against the man, Harvey's, sword and the deep laughter filling his mind.

"It seems you've finally been broken into." The Blood God thinks aloud.

He yells for Ran to run to his dad who's being ushered of stage, his speech being cut short.

Ran looks between his father who has yet to notice him and then back to Illumina who's risked so much for him. To Purpled, who looks horrified and is trying his hardest to pull back Illumina.

And he chooses them.

Jumping between Illumina and Tapl he unfurls his large wings and yells out with a slightly staticy voice "Stop!"

And it's as if the world has stopped, the Blood God no longer speaking in Illumina's mind, Purpled can sag his shoulders in relief, and all eyes are on them.

He looks into Tapl's heterochromatic eyes and in a voice barely above a whisper says "Stop attacking my family."

Tapl steps back, the other guards step back. All can easily recognize the missing Prince, from the two-toned hair to the sparkling eyes only he possesses.

His name is breathed out and demands attention. Ranboo turns to gaze at his father from across the short distance and it's real.

They meet in the middle and Ran holds his father like a scared child, and Techno allows himself to crumble and cry. He cries for the child thought to be dead, stolen from him by those he trusted. He cries for the year and months he's spent separated from him. They cry together, and tears of pent up pain turn to tears of happiness. His grandfather and uncles appear soon enough, he's wrapped in hugs so tight and a pair of wings so warm he could fall asleep.

Purpled and Illumina and thanked for bringing him back, and all Illumina asks is for them to help them find their homes. A message is sent far and wide of Purpled's reappearance and it takes less than a month for a blonde boy, fresh i to adulthood to come crashing through the castle doors and Purpled to find himself wrapped in his big brothers arms once more.

Punz sobs so loudly it's heard from across the palace, clinging to his baby brother and cradling him like a baby.

You'd think after the royal family just about got on their knees to thank him, Illumina would be used to it and stop being so embarrassed, but something about seeing Purpled light up like he's dreamed of seeing the boy do and finally getting to see with his own two eyes the brother he talked about makes him very thankful for the mask there to hide his flushed cheeks.

Ranboo and Purpled aren't ready to let go, so Punz stays with his brother in the castle for awhile.

Illumina is asked thousands and thousands of questions, where they were taken, how they escaped, etcetera.

He takes Techno aside and confesses the deal he made in return for their freedom. He confesses he has yet to know what he's given up to the Patron and his fears. He confesses that He couldn't bare the thought of young Purpled loosing his hope and being raised in a place like that, Ranboo being hurt worse and worse for bottles of acidic breath.

He apologizes for being selfish and wanting to find his family.

And for the first time in forever, he's being held in the safety of a warm hug. He gets to cry and be comforted, he gets to be weak.

It takes longer, but one day new face appears and after four years he breaths in that ridiculously sweet scent of green apples and sweet fruits that Fruit Berries always had. He hugs his friend once again.

They show the boys their tricks, as Illumina promised. They watch them do stupidly dangerous things that make Phil, Techno, and Wilbur flinch and jump to catch the two seventeen year olds, always groaning in faux annoyance watching them land safely, Phil claiming this'll give him a heart attack and Wilbue and Techno agreeing their stupid (while impressive) actions are gonna be bad influences on their sons. Wilbur calls it quits after they manage to drag Punz in, the mercenary dueling the two of them and trying to see whether strength or agility are better. Purpled is torn between cheering for either family member and just yells words of encouragement a lot.

For once in a long long time, they're safe.