#anyway looking back on it its such a dumb approach to the rumors. both if they were a thing and if they weren't.

[a-larry-retrospective-blog]

The thing that gets me, even 10+ years down the line, is that EVEN IF Harry and Louis were weirded out by people shipping them (which IS fair, but also: I think the blame can be shared 50/50 between fandom and pr people) to the point where it "ruined their friendship", we simply shouldn't have been able to notice it.

Like, that's the WHOLE POINT of having people who media train you and pr people: to present a nice image to the public. And 1D's image, like EVERY boyband out there, revolved around thinking the boys were all close, they were happy to be together forever. The reason people were so blindsided by Zayn leaving the band is that they had to pretend everything was fine and dandy even when it wasn't, and the public bought it.

I'm not saying that's a good thing, I'm not saying I'm happy with it, I'm saying that's the reason pr people and managements and every other behind the scenes part of the industry even EXISTS: to smooth out the wrinkles of the image presented to us. Boybands are supposed to be a UNITED FRONT. We as the public are not supposed to know about the skirmishes boys get into, because people would not root for a band where they know there's infighting.

If H&L were actually barely speaking during all those Years (and that's the thing that gets me, it was genuinely YEARS, not like, a bad week), as management their job should have been to force them into a Get Along Shirt and have them actually be professional and act like they did not have disagreements. It seriously makes NO SENSE to me after all these years that there were span of Months of interviews in which they barely interacted with each other and acted like the other one didn't exist, because if it was actually them not wanting to speak to each other, a good (by this I mean somewhat professional, not morally good) management would have said "suck it up and pretend you're still friends". That was their job! I cannot stress enough how this was PRECISELY a job for pr people! And they didn't do it!

So either they were so bad at their job they didn't even TRY to fix the public perception of the band, or having them pretending the other didn't exist was the best outcome. Which. You see how insanely suspicious that was? Like, even without taking into account whatever weird glances they threw at people in the crowd or the images of them hesitating to touch each other, the fact that the mainstream narrative was THIS and no one DARED to put a patch on it is insane in and of itself. It's honestly the dumbest thing whoever was in charge ever did for these boys' image

[dottores]

CRIES ITS OKAY IF YOU TAKE LONG TO RESPOND TO ME I KNOW I WRITE A LOT I'M TYNA SPOIL YOU AND ABSOLUTELY I WRITE THE SANZU FICS FOR YOU TO SELF SHIP SO <333

MORE SANZU HCs BECAUSE I LUV U MWAH MWAH but the childhood friends to lovers trope teehee

childhoodfriend!sanzu who might've fallen a little bit in love when you approach him when he's alone at the park and tell him how pretty he is, even while his scars are healing

childhoodfriend!sanzu who follows you around like a lost puppy after that, even transferring schools

childhoodfriend!sanzu who watches as you tell the people who gossip behind his back about how he looks to fuck off and that he's prettier than they'll ever be (he tears up a little and refuses to let go of your hand for the rest of the day and he decides then that you will be best friends forever)

bestfriend!sanzu who goes to the same middle school as you and watches as you grow, but also notices other boys watching you grow and hates when they leer at you behind your back, so he might pick a fight or two (also so you can fuss at his wounds later)

bestfriend!sanzu who gets his schedule changed to match yours, and is actually really smart so he catches up easily (the only reason he was in the regular classes was because he never tried but he'll try if it's for you)

bestfriend!sanzu who gets so irrationally angry when you agree to take another boy to the dance and doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day, but when he catches you crying about it he apologizes and bashfully admits that he wanted to go with you to which you admit that you wanted to go with him too

bestfriend!sanzu who becomes boyfriend!sanzu when you childishly declare that you're getting married and you'd never want anyone else anyways

boyfriend!sanzu who scares off any gross high school boys that think they can get near you by just standing menacingly behind you

boyfriend!sanzu who will sneak into your window in the middle of the night just to pout and whine about the fact that you didn't give him a goodbye kiss when he dropped you off at home earlier

boyfriend!sanzu who walks you to every class and will even leave his class early to get to yours before it ends to make sure he's on time for you (what teacher is dumb enough to think they can stop him???)

boyfriend!sanzu who proposes to you right after high school graduation, to which everyone says you're both insane but you wouldn't have it any other way <3

fiance!sanzu who waits until you're finished with schooling to properly marry you because he can wait forever and he wants you to prioritize your career first

fiance!sanzu who picks you up from work one day, but when you hear your co-workers gossip about the man in the expensive suit and maserati who's rumored to be in bonten, you decide that that job isn't for you anymore because who were they to judge? (when he asks later you just tell him that it wasn't the right fit and you have to pinky swear because he was about to go in and threaten some people)

fiance!sanzu who's more into wedding planning than you are, but realizes one day that all he wants is you, so he plans a small wedding with all of your important people and host it in your penthouse (this may or may not have been the first time bonten!mikey has ever been caught smiling and it's sure as hell going to be the last, but you're both just happy you got to witness it)

fiance!sanzu who tells you how pretty you are at the stand, which may sound insignificant to everyone else but you recall your first words to him and immediately burst into tears and he starts panicking

fiance!sanzu who promises that he will build you the life you want, no matter what the cost is

I love you sm and you deserve all the kithes and sanzu love <333

i’m so mentally and physically ill over this it’s not even funny, i was literally punching the bed on the verge of tears haruchiyo just following me around like a lost puppy i’m crying so hard, kids are so mean they would have been so mean to him at school cuz of his scars i just wanna pick him up n hug him i’m so upset AND HIM THROWING A TANTRUM OVER ME GOING TO DANCE W SOMEONE ELSE IM SO ILL HE SO WOULD IM GONNA THROE UP HE WOUKD BE SO MAD AND UPSET AND MOSTLY CUZ HE COULDNT GATHER THE NERVES TO ASK ME HIMSELF BEFORR SOMEONE ELSE DID i’m so ill sneaking into my bedroom for a goodnivht kiss and walking me to and from class and proposing after graduation my heart hurts so bad i want him so bad i’m so upset

[babygirldennis]

This shit is fake bby!!!

Here she is.. My masterpost of all the dumb, illogical bits of info contained within these s15 “leaks” that make me fairly confident they are complete bullshit. It also includes my little tinhat theories that have absolutely no evidence.

I will be putting it all under a Readmore in case you don't want to risk it or if you simply Do Not Care

First up, I'd like to point out that these call sheets repeatedly give very detailed backstories to characters that have few lines which conveniently paints a picture of each episode's plot. And I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong, but after looking at other similar casting calls, they only ever include the demographic and necessary skills.

Basically who in their right mind would write up casting calls that give away so many spoilers? Seems like that could cause and issue if they were leaked lol. But anyway that's my 1st point. But onto the actual content

So the conceit of this episode as a whole is that during the pandemic, the gang "gamed the system" and received three (3!) Loans to start businesses that went bankrupt. One of these businesses is implied to be the one started by dee and charlie who end up selling to Qanon shaman. Already this is so impossible baby.

1. We've already seen the gang try to get a loan and it didn't work. They don't have good ideas. Ur telling me, they managed to finagle 3 separate loans for 3 separate business ideas from an actual bank?

2. Maybe I just have bad reading comprehension but how does one have a business that is both fictitious and bankrupt?

3. If the customer is supposed to be Qanon shaman, an actual real life guy, why are the only descriptors white and male? They say he's shirtless so are they going to paint on all of the tattoos he has? And if so, doesn't that kind of ruin the dramatic reveal when charlie "throws in" the viking helmet? Why would he do that anyways? Sus.

Moving on

Alright this episode would fucking blow for obvious reasons but im going to refrain from looking at this through my gay dennis thruther lens because im biased.

Purely from a narrative standpoint, a woman hasn't been shown to be interested in dennis in nearly 5 years during the wade boggs episode. Ever since, every single woman he approaches has been actively creeped out by him. And now I'm supposed to believe that 3 "smart, passionate woman" (In Their Twenties!!!!!!) agreed to go on a date with him? And Anna even slept with him! Just because he what? Agreed with her? I'm not buyin it.

Plus the concept of this scenario lacks any potential for comedy. When iasip gets political, they always discuss a very specific topic using hyperbolic situations and flawed metaphors. If this is supposed to be a political episode, what ultimately lukewarm point would rob be trying to make here? So far we know they're ranting about

The patriarchy

Privilege

Socialism

No more personal responsibility(?)

The... nature of power in society(??)

How on earth would an episode like get approved? This shit sounds like a Ted talk. It sounds like it was written specifically to sound like a political episode so boring and pointless it would generate outrage and mile long essay posts from Tumblr users and reddit users alike. Almost like this one lol.

On a completely unrelated note, do not try and convince me that Frank "casual cock ring wearer" Reynolds is unable to perform.

Jeez this is getting out of hand fast. Let's move on

Ok now we're starting to getting into the Ireland of it all. Let me go on a bit of a tangent here about all this.. Now I thinq there are just 3 possibilities. Either this is all a publicity stunt and there is some truth to the Ireland rumors, the entire thing could be bogus from some weirdo fan (ps, if a fan did write this I want you to know I fucking hate you. You did this to me), or it is a publicity stunt but Ireland is just more bullshit.

I am going to assume it was a publicity stunt, otherwise I just wasted my entire evening and I can't have that kind of mentality rn. Additionally, I'm Going to tinhat here for a second and say that the Ireland rumors are true, but the details are different.

I say this because if they were going to do filming in Ireland, they probably figured that that information would be impossible to hide. In essence, my completely unfounded hypothesis is that this leak was their fucked up little way of controlling the situation while simultaneously messing with us.

Ok tangent is over, returning to the casting calls. From the looks of it, dee starts a "scam" acting class and has some very devoted students (Note that Tony was also the name of the porn shop owner. Seems weird!) Presumably after the gang replaces her with a monkey as the title suggests.

Honestly, there isn't too much here that's a red flag to me... seems like a nice little dee-centric episode that is the link to the Dublin angle. Assuming I am At All right, this could be a genuine plotline for Dee. However, the monkey could be a red herring and there could be a whole different side plot with the guys. who's to say. Next one!

Ah yes this is the dennis we all know and despise.. no red flags for me here really, I'm also running out of steam because idk if it shows, but I am majorly sleep deprived atm. Anyway I'm going to the next one

Okay this is where things start getting weird again ough a migraine just hit, anyway back to my earlier point about how casting calls would never contains major spoilers bc the people who see these wont be under any kind of NDA..

These ones reveal that bonnie dies. Again, that info wouldn't be in a casting call.

But also they suggest charlie has a irish penpal named Shelley who is his biological father. First off charlie is illiterate, although as pointed out by @undeadbreeze shelley could also be communicating in symbols. However, this scenario is still unbelievable to me for a couple reasons:

1. Bonnie's last name is Kelly obviously, and we know it's her maiden name because Jack's last name is also Kelly. But Shelley's last name is... also Kelly? In the context of this big ol hoax, it feels like it was written to show that look! his last name is the same as charlie's! That's how you know that's his dad! But It would be way too big of a coincidence if charlie's dad happened to have the same last name bonnie.

And 2. There's the whole mystery of charlie's long-lost sister from 'charlie got molested' but never any mention of a brother which according to this, shelley has been pretending to be his brother for years. And we all know how much rcg loves their continuity, it seems uncharacteristically lazy to just tack this on without any prior buildup.

And finally let me talk about mac for a second and specifically the line in gus's summary "both are gay men who are attracted to the priesthood for all the wrong reasons"

Iasip has commented on pedophilia in the priesthood many times in the past which leads me to believe that they are implying that mac is a pedophile? Please let me know if I completely misread the implications of that statement, but if not, then that is completely insane and one of the biggest indictators that this is fake. Mac is awful, just like everyone in the gang but he is definitely not a pedophile.

However even if i did completely misread that, it's still proof this is fake.. For all his faults, Rob put a surprising amount of care and effort into mac's coming-out. It hasn't been perfect, but Mfhp in particular firmly established that mac's faith is integral to his identity so Its unlikely that rob would throw all of that away for a cheap shot at priests.

Ok my brain is irradiated sludge at this point, but in conclusion. I hope that 1. I'm right, at least about it being fake (Otherwise damb that'll be so humiliating for me) And 2. This eases ur fears a bit. I don't want to lose all faith in future seasons bc I love iasip and miss the gang. If you read this far youre insane but I literally love you so goddamn much because I spent so so long tapping this out on my silly little phone

Please feel free to add on or message me your thoughts and opinions I need to know I'm not the only one who uhhh went a bit insane. And finally: whoever made these is a cunt. Mwah.

[toutallyahoe]

LUCKY ~ Matsukawa Issei (Haikyuu) (2/?)

requested by: --

pairing(s): matsukawa issei x [name]

warnings: cursing, oikawa bullying

a/n: i just found out how to do the freaking "keep reading" thing for my post

yall finally dont have to scroll long now asdfghjkskdhjsf im so sorry for being an idiot and not knowing how to do it sooner yall (´；ω；｀)

anyways, more mattsun simping

chapter one | chapter two |

A WEEK HAD PASSED BY after that event where the males volleyball club— or at least for Oikawa Tōru, had known that one of the resident fucklords of the males volleyball club of Aoba Johsai, Matsukawa Issei (also known as the very ridiculous nickname "Mattsun" courtesy by the dumbass named Oikawa Tōru) was dating the student council president, [Last name] [Name].

"Mattsun!!! How does it feel like dating Brickwall-san?!?"

And it seemed like Oikawa Tōru, the oh so perfect male of Aoba Johsai (but resident dumpster trash and alien weirdo for his teammates and friends) was still not over the fact that Issei was dating [Name], or currently known as "Brickwall-san" by the chocolate brown haired male.

Currently, the four third years were in the gym's changing room. The practice for the day was already done and they were in the middle of changing while the rest of the team were already finished since they weren't actually wasting their time. Not like these four, well, three as the black haired ace unfortunately had to keep an eye to the two crackheads and trashy asshole that he call his teammates and friends.

"Are the rumors about him being a good kisser true?!?" Tōru asked without shame whatsoever as the unfortunate best friend of Tōru, Iwaizumi Hajime only let out a tired sigh at the volleyball captain's question.

Hajime was already so done with trying to stop Tōru for asking any more dumb questions as the chocolate brown haired male just couldn't stop. This wasn't his fucking job, goddammit. Iwaizumi Hajime wanted to fucking die right now. What a mood.

Hanamaki Takahiro, who was beside Issei looked at Tōru with a raised brow. The light brown (pink???) haired male mischievous smirked as his eyes shined in a sick sense of amusement. And not far behind him, Issei had that same look of mischievous amusement aswell.

The volleyball team's ace could only let out another tired sigh as he began to rub his temple, feeling the incoming headache already as he muttered curses underneath his breath. This wasn't his fucking job. He wasn't a fucking babysitter goodammit, so why does he have to deal with this bullshit?

"Eh? Why do you want to know?" Takahiro asked as he gave the third year setter a look yet the grin on his lips never leaving nor the amusement in his eyes. "Is Shittykawa interested on Prez?"

"You better not Loserkawa," Issei merely said with a smile, sending the volleyball captain an amused look but his eyes held a small glint of something neither any of the team can pin point what it was. But the volleyball captain felt a shiver down his spine. It was oddly terrifying and Tōru doesn't want to die, thank you very much.

"Wow, someone's territorial," Takahiro quietly snickered as he stopped himself from laughing when his friend had sent him a look and then elbowing him.

It seemed like it took a moment for the third year setter to realized what Takahiro had just said about him liking [Name], and it immediately made Tōru want to gag. The said male let out sputters as Tōru's face bloomed red. Head furiously shaking as he crossed his arms like an "x" formation in his chest.

"H-hah?!? Makki I am not!!!" Tōru screamed. Face horrified as he imagined himself liking the [Hair color] haired male. As if!!! That guy gave him the shivers and not in a cutesy way but the one with creeps!!! "I can't even imagine him even dating anyone!!!"

"Oi, [Last name]-san is literally dating your teammate, Dumbkawa," Hajime had said in annoyance as he punched the chocolate brown haired male on the back of his head. Tōru only cried out in pain as he rubbed his head to ease up the ache he was feeling.

"Wah! Iwa-chan your so mean!"

"Well, Weirdkawa is not wrong," Issei has said as both Tōru and Hajime paused and looked at him, confused while Takahiro laughed at their dumbfounded look aswell as the words coming out of his friend's mouth. "I don't even know how he is dating me," Issei said as he finished buttoning his uniform.

"Mattsun... what?" The chocolate brown haired male managed to said as he looked at the black haired middle blocker with a look of confusion while the said male shrugged his shoulders with a small grin on his lips.

"What? [Name] is still a mystery to me too," Issei had said.

"You both are gay for each other, end of discussion," Takahiro butted in as he then turned to the volleyball captain.

"But Asskawa, why would you ask if he is a good kisser?" Takahiro asked as Issei nodded beside him. Neither of the two didn't mind Tōru crying on the different insulting nickname they used to call him.

"Mattsun, Shittykawa is trying to steal Prez away from you!" The light brown (maybe pink, no one fucking knows) haired male said in very obvious tone of sarcasm yet Tōru didn't seemed to caught on to it that Takahiro was joking. Man, what a dumbass.

"Makki!!! I do not!!!" Tōru cried as he made disgusted faces. Oikawa Tōru seriously doesn't want anything to do with the oh so loved (and also terrifying for most of the Aoba Johsai population) student council president that was [Name].

"You can have him all to yourself Mattsun!!!" Tōru cried as he then yelped in pain when the black haired ace punched the back of his head hard.

"Can you shut up already, Shittykawa?!?" Hajime asked in annoyance as he began to beat the volleyball captain while both Takahiro and Issei snickered as they watched the ace pummel their captain. Still sadistic assholes, the two were.

"Um, senpais?" The four stopped and looked at the entrance of the changing room to see Kindaichi Yūtarō who looked a bit nervous.

"Oh, Kindaichi!" Tōru happily said. The volleyball captain was rather happy to see his junior as Yūtarō's appearance managed to make Hajime's brutal beating to a hold. "What do you need?"

With that, Yūtarō straightened himself as he bowed. "Excuse me for disturbing any of you," Yūtarō apologized as he stood back up and turned to look at Issei who rosed a brow at him. "But [Last name]-senpai is here and is asking for Matsukawa-senpai!"

"Ah, looks like your bae is here Mattsun!" Tōru had said as he was the first one to realized what their junior has said. The volleyball captain wasted no time to teased Issei who didn't even give a single glance at him as the black haired middle blocker nodded at Yūtarō.

"Thanks," Issei had said as the first year once again bowed and then went back outside the changing room and go who knows where.

"Mattsun is walking home with his boo," Takahiro had teased as he patted the black haired middle blocker's back. Giving Issei a smile when the male turned to roll his eyes at him. "Enjoy your time with your boo, dickhead."

"Your just sad because your single, bitch," Issei had said as he stuck his tongue out at Takahiro who snorted at his words.

"Fuck you, man."

"Nah, [Name]'s got that covered."

The two friend snickered at their words as both Tōru and Hajime looked at each other and then shrugged. They would've butted in but it seemed like the two fucklords were in their own world.

It took a minute or so, and then Issei was already finishing on changing to his uniform as he took his bag from the bench that was inside the changing room. The black haired male was already at the doorway fo the changing room when he stopped and and gave a mocking salut to the three third years.

"Later bitches," Issei had bid as Tōru whined on being insulted as Hajime sighed and slapped the back of the captain's head which earned more cries from the chocolate brown haired male while Takahiro rolled his eyes.

"Hope you got run over by a truck while Prez watches, you dick," Takahiro hollered as Issei turned to give his friend a middle finger while the said male stuck his tongue out and did the same aswell.

"Bitter bitch!"

"Dumb dick!"

"Can you two not be vulgar?!?"

"But Iwa-chan, you use those words too— AHH NOT THE FACE PLEASE!!!"

   "Did you wait long?" Issei had asked as he approached the [Hair color] haired male who shook his head. Issei smiled at that.

"Not really," [Name] had said as Issei had walked beside him. The black haired male then immediately grabbed his hand and [Name] didn't mind. He always liked when Issei's hand was intertwined with his. "Did you have fun with practice?" [Name] had to bit back a smile that was threatening to come its way to his lips as he heard Issei groan.

"It was tiring," Issei had said as he pouted. "Dumbkawa was also being annoying, like always," Issei added which made [Name] softly chuckle.

"Isn't he always?" The [Hair color] haired male had said as Issei let out a snort at his words. The black haired male gave [Name] a grin, eyes gleamed with joy.

"Yeah, your right about that."

With a hum, [Name] squeezed Issei's hand as he began to walk. "Come on, let's head back home already."

"Yeah, yeah, Prez."

"Please don't call me that."

< prev | next >

[astraeass]

[1] start once again;

[cross-posted in ao3 • fem reader]

pairing: levi ackerman/reader (first three chapters doesn’t have Levi at all tho..)

warnings: cursing, talks about adoption, panic attack, dissociative amnesia

words: 2145

Summary:

you just wanted to know the truth, so why not be a reckless dumbass and join the scouts

"I’m joining the survey corps"

Laria froze, she couldn’t believe what her sweet, little girl was saying.

Wait, she’s not her sweet little girl anymore.

"What..?"

"You heard me Laria, I’m pretty sure you know what does that means, right?"

"[Y/N] please you can't do this to me... you can’t do this to David!"

"Or what..?"

You know this is cruel, you totally know, but your current desire to go outside the walls and see what the fuck is happening dominated your thoughts.

Laria fell to her knees, staring at the floor, apparently the old wood texture was more interesting for her than what you wanted to say.

With a deep sigh, you kneeled before her, holding her shoulders softly, when noticing your presence, Laria almost instantly grabbed yours in an opposite manner, with a tight and aggressive hold.

"[Y/N]... please don’t do this, tha-that’s suicide!"

You looked at her pale green orbs with intensity, sending her a sign that no matter what, your choice will not change that easily

"If you want me to stay, I just want to know from where I actually am, tell me Laria"

The older woman flinched, it was such a foreign sensation to hear her name coming from her daughter.

Silence.

"I..."

Laria looked down her palms closing and opening with hesitation.

"I don’t know"

You rolled your eyes standing up, you couldn’t take more of this bullshit.

Laria without your hands supporting her shoulders, fell down. Tears falling down her cheeks and meeting the creaking floor no long after.

"You are telling me you adopted me without knowing where the fuck I am from?"

The only sound you could hear were Laria's sobs, you know she’s trying to control them, but she can’t hold them a second more.

"You know I’m not from inside the walls...?"

More silence.

You don’t really know what’s going on in Laria's mind right know, her face was hiding in the floor, it was impossible to see the expression of shock in her usual calm features

"What...?”

Her voice was cracking again, that sent a pang to your heart. After all, she and her husband David were the ones who raised you.

But, you will move on.

You need to move on.

"I want to know from where I am, that’s why I’m joining the survey corps. I’ll go outside the walls"

Your turned away from her, slowly walking to the door you recently came from, without looking back, because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to continue forward if you see her pained expression again.

24 hours before;

It was another normal day, you were going to the market, David, your father, needed some fresh tomatoes for the plate he was cooking today. Even thought your butlers could go out and buy them for him, you insisted enough, just like always.

"You started being a really stubborn girl since you came to the world, [Y/N]" Said David with a smirk in his face when you managed to convince him. This time was harder, it was like he was scared about me going outside, it was... strange.

You loved going outside.

The chattering from people doing their chores, the sun's bright light and slight breeze softly caressing your skin brought you to a state of comfort that made you unconsciously smile.

After a short walk, you reached your destination, a small stand that sold fresh ingredients, most of them vegetables. You weren’t fond of their taste at all, but the smell was added to your list of comfort ambience.

"Hey [Y/N]! You’re doing the shopping today again?"

You nodded to the old woman, she was already used to your presence and usual shopping. You maybe were outside way too much

"Yes, Miss Anderson! However this time was harder to convince my father, I think it’s because I’m getting older"

After grabbing the necessary quantity David asked for and payed for it, you followed the way to go to home, this time you went faster, an uneasy feeling wandered you for a strange reason, making you want to go home as fast as possible.

However, a familiar voice made you stop in your tracks.

"Claire wait a minute!"

You turned around when you heard your last name and meet big bright blue eyes, a tall form with broad shoulders. He was person of your age and apparently he was panting a little, it seemed that he ran for you to catch you before you decided to go home.

Erwin Smith, the golden boy in your class.

You didn’t know a lot from him, you just knew that his father died when he was younger coincidentally after he spread some rumors about what’s outside the walls, oh and that he was a little bit older than you.

Not that you care anyways.

"Erwin, what do you need?"

After gaining some air after running for you, he handed you a little bag with some money that you recognized as what David gave you for the tomatoes

"This fell from your pocket and I couldn’t help but notice that I was from you"

"...Thank you"

The both of you stood there, an awkward silence invaded your comfort, and that bothered you a lot. You were a quiet person since you were small, so it was always hard for you to start a conversation but ended up getting used to it.

This was so embarrassing.

"I can walk you to your home, if you want to"

"No"

You didn’t even hesitate and continued with your way back home.

"Thank you again, uh.. I’ll get going"

And with that you left, you were close to your house anyways. But a feeling of regret started to eat you up. You hated your boldness.

that’s why you don’t make friends [Y/N]...

However, Erwin didn’t actually move from his spot, he decided to stay there watching your form slowly decrease its size. There was something strange about you.

He was finding it out.

;;

You finally reached home, opening the big doors of you house, don’t caring if your maids scolded you for doing it because it was their job.

"[Y/N] how much times we need to tell you that you don’t need to open the doors?"

Giselle, the head maid told you for the nth time this week with an already annoyed look. It was getting irritating, couldn’t anyone see you were trying to be independent?

You just passed by, Giselle after all wasn’t way too much older than you, her mother worked for your family for a long time, so she just got her title thanks to her, which to you, was an error since she sometimes thought a superiority aura would intimidate you.

At first you thought she was jealous, but why? Your looks? Your sharp but at the same time soft features are beautiful, they contrasted perfectly. Mayhap your intelligence? ...no.

This is ridiculous.

"[Y/N] sweetheart, you’re already home?"

Laria with David at her side interrupted your thoughts, making you jump a little and hoping that they didn’t notice.

David Claire was a tall man, strawberry blond curly and slightly long hair, usually tied up in a low ponytail and his chocolate dark wide shaped eyes complemented his face very well.

Meanwhile Laria Claire has her platinum blond almost white hair trimmed in a bob cut, her light chubby face was cute, but her sharp hazel eyes kind of scared you sometimes, the way her bangs sometimes covered them didn’t help at all.

But you.. you were strange, preciously strange, a girl unique with unique features.

Way too unique.

"Yes, I didn’t need to buy a lot of things"

You approached your kitchen, leaving the bag were you carried the tomatoes besides David, him sending you a sweet thankful smile. When you were bringing your hands to your pockets, you felt a bulge, noticing that it was the little bag that Erwin picked up from were it fell.

"Oh, I almost forgot giving your money back father, where do I leave it?" You asked playing with the bag bouncing it between your hands

David chuckled seeing your cute mannerisms and pointed upstairs. "Just leave it in my office, inside the first drawer if you can, please" He looked at you with pleading eyes.

Huh...?

You nodded, grabbing the money bag before it fell and headed upstairs. Wondering why your father gave you that look, he seemed even desperate for you to place the pouch back. David's office was the last one in the hall, giving you more time to think about what just happened.

Entering the room, you expect something coming out for you. How dumb. Slowly, you went to the desk and opened the first drawer, inside a paper with your name and another last name.

[Y/N] [L/N]

[L/N]...? What.

The money pouch you were holding, fell down because you were holding it tightly, the force increasing the more you read the coins falling everywhere and making a loud noise that probably reached your parents in the kitchen. Shit.

Before picking up and collecting the coins you fell down on your knees, an heavy headache suddenly hitting you.

I’m.. I can’t I’m not an object

Why did they sell me..?

You were lying down the floor of a carriage, the wet and cold wood hugged your soft cheek. The rocky path making your body jump from time to time. Your wrists and ankles were tied tightly, you moved a bit, but it burnt. You also had some type of clothing around your mouth preventing you to scream for help.

The only thing keeping you conscious was the beautiful nature you could see by a hole in the cloth that was hiding your body from the outside world so no one could see that the carriage had a kidnapped girl in the back.

It was beautiful, pink... trees? A large body of water that reflected the mountains and the full bright moon. The mountains had some snow at the top since it was very white. However you couldn’t see a lot more since your vision started to fade.

You suddenly gasped loudly, opening your eyes widely. Your hands were gripping your hair with a strong hold and you barely noticed you were crying after seeing some wet spots in the floor below you. What.. was that?

"[Y/N]"

The voice of your fath- no. The voice of David startled you, making you look up him with a tear stained face. His eyes sending you pity.

You hated that.

You stood up rapidly pushing past him with so much force, that it made him fall on his butt, you were about to help him but as fast as you stood, you face contorted in anger leaving the office to run to your room.

Closing you door behind you and locking it up, you turned your back to your door, supporting yourself on it and carefully sliding till you sat in the floor, bringing your knees to your face and hiding it.

No, you weren’t crying, you were confused, you were angry. Why that memory decided to appear in that exact moment? To much in such a short amount of time.

You expected David or even Laria to come and knock to her door to see if they cared. They didn’t. Was that also part of your illusion? The loved and cared for you... right?

Not that you cared, again.

Next day, after coming for whatever your were doing, probably just spacing out, collecting your thoughts. You confronted Laria, apparently David didn’t tell her about your little panic attack, it was heartbreaking, he wasn’t even there.

The more you walked from your house, the more determined you were to join the scouts. You’ll finally know your origin, it didn’t matter if it was tragic or not, your curiosity apparently won. How sad.

;;

"So yeah... that was pretty much what happened"

You didn’t expect meeting Erwin when joining the training corps, however it didn’t surprise you at all. What really surprised you is his look of amazement in his eyes when telling your story.

The bright look being more noticeable when he was listening to your theory of yourself not being from inside the walls.

"I know Smith, the idea is basically impossible, it could be a dream, y'know those fiction ones" you said after seeing how he kept on silence after some minutes when you told him what happened in your household not long ago.

Nothing.

"Could you say something? This is awkward as fuck"

Erwin pupils widened, he's back to the real world. His expression know shooting you an apologetic smile, making you frown.

"My apologies [L/N], I was in my own mind. I’m sorry all of tha-"

"Don’t pity me, I did it myself"

Next Chapter

[darknessisafriend]

Finally I found you again

@sonrisa-yk​ Hiiii💖 can I request a fic? About the Abbé de Coulmier, maybe? I don't know how it works, but I'd like to know if its possible a oc insert: my oc is called Lucille Chagall, is two years older than the Abbé, she's his childhood best friend. Like, they have a romantic and sexual tension tho -////-. If possible, can you make it nsfw? If not, it's okay :) i will love it anyways

I love you and your content, dear💖💖 have a good day!

Hey darling, I hope you will enjoy it and that it will make you happy <3 

The Abbe couldn’t stop smiling today, and all his employees kept wondering why, not that he wasn’t easily joyful but today, he literally seemed excited and head in the clouds. And how could he not be? A few weeks ago, he had received a letter from his childhood friend, Lucille Chagall, she had heard about his position as the Director of Charenton and contacted him, after so many years apart and without news, it was a great opportunity to catch up. And after exchanging many letters, she had announced him she would visit him, and it was finally today.

He wondered what she looked like now, a grown-up woman who made him blush as a child already and made him wish for a kiss. Except now things were different, he was a priest, and perhaps she was even engaged or married.

“Abbe, a carriage is arriving.” Informed him Valcours and his heart skipped a beat, here’s what will answer to his questions. Unconsciously he smoothed his cassock and made sure his hair were nicely combed. And he waited on top of the front stairs, ignoring the whispers of a few of his maids who tried to imagine why the Abbe was so joyful and wanted to be so perfect, and of course the rumors could only grow when a young woman stepped out of the carriage, wearing a white dress with a light blue band on the bottom part and a shawl around her shoulders. He swallowed down, how much she had grown, she was even more beautiful than he remembered.

“Lucille.” He said, just loud enough for her to hear him, and her eyes landed on him, she could have almost not recognized him. She remembered a little boy who was so joyful and often messing around, and now she had in front of her a handsome man, wrapped in that straight cassock which reflected the so many responsibilities on his shoulders, duties to himself, God and those around him.

“Francois? Oh sorry, Abbe de Coulmier.” She apologized, blushing, she had to get used to that title. He chuckled, approaching her.

“Come on Lucille, we have known each other for years, you can still call me by my name.” he spoke kindly, she noticed how calm and thoughtful he had become, and that added even more charm to the man. “I hope your trip to come here wasn’t too bad.”

“Alright, go for Francois then! And yes, the trip was okay, I only live two hours away and this part of the countryside is beautiful.” She answered, her cheeks pink, that voice combined with this beauty, he was the most handsome man she ever encountered.

He guided her inside the Asylum, showing her the work he did there, art classes, a theatre, his little Heaven of peace. Art therapy for the patients, gentleness and benevolence were the key words here. Lucille was slowly understanding the boy she appreciated so much hadn’t disappeared, he was still so joyful, even playful with his patients, he hadn’t changed so much after all, he had become a wonderful man and her feelings for him which had never disappeared were now growing. What a shame he was a priest with chastity vows, she was a young woman fully in the age to marry.

“Have you never missed anything since you entered Monastery?” she couldn’t help but ask, after all at 10 years old, he might not have understood all the sacrifices he would have to make. He smiled, turning to her.

“Gluttony.” He whispered mischievously, making her giggle, it’s true that he had a little tummy and full cheeks as a kid, now he was thinner.

“Just gluttony? Have you never fallen in love? Wished to marry or have children?” she asked, curious, even if he lied, she would see it. As for her, she wished to find her future husband and he could have been perfect. He tilted his head to the side, curious as to why she asked that particular question.

“Oh well…I am still human, and any man one day or another imagined himself as a husband and father. But my love for our Lord was stronger.” At least when he made that choice. Lucille noticed he hadn’t answered the question about falling in love, a meticulous man like him must have purposely ignored it, which lead her to think…was he currently in love?

“Abbe are we still having lesson tonight?” asked a young and beautiful maid who passed by, slightly younger than him, he looked at her tenderly and smiled.

“Of course, Madeleine, I would hate to miss it.” He replied, making her blush. Okay, there was definitely something. But Lucille, shook her head, what was she thinking? Suddenly so keen on knowing the relationship of the maid and the priest and feeling almost jealous of their sweet interaction. The maid smiled at him again and then at Lucille before leaving them.

“Would you like to drink a tisane?” he suddenly offered to his childhood friend, to be honest he hadn’t seen her in such a long time and he had waited so excitedly for her visit that he was a bit shy now, he couldn’t explain why, it was as if he wanted to please her.

“Yes, with pleasure.” She nodded, secretly hoping that they would find themselves alone in a room, to face completely the real Francois and hoped to know more about his romantic life if there was one. The priest guided her to the kitchens and luckily no maids or cooks were there at this time of the afternoon. Francois motioned for her to sit down while he prepared the tisane. Lucille sat and observed him, the way he held himself, he was elegant, delicate and yet…she felt there was more to it, as if inside he held some raw passion, or perhaps that cassock was turning her on more than she dare to admit. She was so deep into her thoughts that she didn’t notice the Abbe who felt her gaze on him and turned his head to look at her and quickly looking back;  he blushed, her gaze on him was the most destabilizing, worse than Madeleine’s eyes on him. His heart was…fluttering? God what was wrong with him!?

“And you Lucille? Are you married?” he asked, not without interest, he shouldn’t, but his curiosity got the best of him. She opened her mouth, slightly taken aback.

“Huh no, not even engaged…I am afraid I didn’t find the right man…yet.”

“Oh…that’s unfortunate.” He replied but somehow, he felt some sort of relief, as a child he always threw a tantrum when he saw boys around her, probably a remnant of those old times. “Is it…because you rejected noble life? Or you are looking for a marriage of love?” he was observant.

“A bit of both.” She chuckled “The truth is, I always had a certain man in mind, not the most accessible one, and I can’t let go…even less now.” She looked at him, she had missed him, and each second that passed and the urge to hug him, touch him, was getting stronger. Even more as he approached her with the teapot and cups, sitting down next to her and turning to face her, their knees almost touching. The Abbe briefly passed his fingers between his neck and collar, as if he felt too hot, he shouldn’t sit so close, and yet he wanted to be closer, caress her skin, perhaps even kiss her...he didn’t know what was wrong with him but those were  dangerous thoughts.

“Who…who is he?” he asked, trying to hide his jealousy the best he could. She looked at him in the eyes, why such an intrusive question? How could she tell it was him without saying his name?

“Well, he is a gentleman, intelligent, altruistic, sophisticated, devoted, respectful of woman, children and the weak…” she described enigmatic, but with a lovely smile.

“Sounds like the perfect man.” He said ironically, what kind of man was so perfect?

“Well he is not devoid of flaws but to me he is perfect.

“Oh and what are those flaws?” he asked, eager to know this man.

“Possessiveness and gluttony.” You chuckled softly, nostalgic, he could be really adorable, even in those. And hearing those two words he frowned, two flaws he had. She was in love with a man who seemed to resemble him a lot, and he felt jealousy growing in his chest, forgetting for an instant his situation, why not him?

“Who is he? Would you give me his name please?”

“Oh Francois I can’t…” she looked away, embarrassed, she was probably getting herself in a situation where he would push her away.

“Why? Don’t you trust me Lucille? I take confessions, it is part of my duty, whoever this man is, I won’t judge you.” He insisted. She shook her head, he didn’t even recognize himself in the description, was he actually dumb or had she been stupid in hoping he would react. She got up, ashamed and intending to go away but before she could leave, the priest caught her hand, calling her name, his skin against hers was burning.

“You want a confession Francois? This man I’m describing it’s you.” She let out with frustration, at those words, he let go of her hand, his eyes wide and mouth open.

“Before seeing you again I thought it was just the remnants of childhood feelings but it’s not. From the moment I saw you, when you greeted me on the stairs of this place…I wanted more and-..!” before she could finish he was crashing his lips on hers, pressing her against the wall. Lucile moaned against his mouth, so that was what she felt earlier…raw passion.

“Oh Lucille…”  he breathed full of desire, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as she buried her fingers in his hair, it was clear he was touch starved. And it made her understand that she was the first and only woman to touch him. She giggled as she felt his tongue caressing her lips, the chaste priest might not be so innocent and probably had other night readings than the Bible. Her hands left his hair to explore his body, her fingers brushing over his neck, feeling his chest through his cassock and then…

“N-no…not yet Lucille, please.” He whimpered, a moan dying in his throat as he was taking her hand away from his crotch; no matter how much he wanted this, right now he couldn’t. And if they were to make love, he would take it slowly, in a bedroom, in bed, he was romantic after all and wanted their first to be right.  

“Oh, I’m so sorry Francois!” she apologized, covering her face with her hands, she was all red in shame, perhaps she had been too blunt in her touch. He didn’t speak but soon she felt his hands on hers, gently taking them away from her face.

“Don’t be ashamed Luci…I…have a lot of desire for you too. And if you would allow me…” he stuttered hallway between shyness and strong desire.

“Yes Francois?” she encouraged him, hopeful, he seemed to want something but didn’t dare to say it.

“I…would like to taste more of you.” He let out, briefly looking down as his face went red but not as much as hers. Still, she nodded, full of desire for him and letting him guide her to sit down. Was this really going to happen?

She looked at him breathless as he knelt in front of her, his hands sliding underneath her dress, caressing her ankles. He exhaled, beautiful ankles, and such a soft skin, he wanted to see…so he lifted her dress up to her knees and my what a beautiful pair of legs, he couldn’t resist but put his mouth on her skin, placing slow, languishing kisses, his head soon disappearing underneath her dress.

Lucille bit her lower lip feeling his mouth closer to her womanhood, his finger delicately slipping off her underwear; she felt his hot breath over her sensitive skin.

“Oh Lucille…your smell…intoxicating.” He murmured, his voice hoarse with desire as he inhaled her scent, he was attracted like a bee to a flower, and he wanted to taste her precious honey. He parted her legs even more and started with a simple and yet lingering kiss, hearing take a deep breath in anticipation.

“Francois…please.” She couldn’t help but plead him, she had been craving love, his love. She gasped as she felt something wet and warm slide between her folds, his tongue, he was tasting her, and the room started to fill with soft and languishing moans at first. His tongue exploring each patch of skin, eating her out as he was famished and in a way he was; he had been deprived of the pleasures of the flesh for too long.

“Oh G…don’t stop! Like that, yes...!” she kept moaning louder and louder, failing at her attempts to be quiet, and he was restless, not stopping his licks, sucking her soft spot, putting into practice all the little things the Marquis’ stories had taught him. When she finally came, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed, feeling pure pleasure radiate off her, her face full of ecstasy and he couldn’t wait to see it again, it was already too addictive to not do it again.

He came back up and captured her lips for a passionate kiss, having the pleasure again the feel her fingers in his hair “Stay a little more…please.” Not leave for years again, he wouldn’t survive it.

“Ask me to stay forever by your side and I will stay.” She replied romantically, even, if they would have to remain discreet for now, at least they had found each other again and that’s all they needed.

Abbe’s sinners: @lyoongx​ @weirdflecksbutok​ @skaravile​ @niniita-ah @stardancerluv​ @sgtsavoytruffle​ @charlie-sisters @ohcarlesmycarles​ @valentina15 @bring-your-holy-water  @beautifulyoungprospect​​ @stellargirlie​​ @fly-like-a-phoenix​​ @we-were-electrocute​​ @sophiefleck​​ @the-queen-of-things​​ @winterjasmine007​​ @jokerflecker​ @yukis-writing​ @rajacero @morrisonmercuryphoenix @the-joaq-is-extra​

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 3: Pack Mentality

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

P.S. Derek is *ominous* and Scott is a dumbass.

                                                            ----------

“I don’t know, it just feels like something is off.” Allison groaned from beside me. 

Lydia, who was heading to lunch with us on my other side, rolled her eyes. I couldn’t really blame her. Allison had been complaining about Scott’s odd behavior this morning for the past five minutes. Apparently, he was avoiding her. 

It’d been exactly one week since my weird encounter with Scott and Stiles last Friday. I hadn’t spoken to either of them since. Stiles had tried cornering me in the halls on several occasions, but I managed to get away each time. I honestly wanted nothing to do with them or their supernatural problems. 

I just wanted to be normal for once. 

So imagine my horror when Lydia went straight for their table in the cafeteria. Allison looked all too happy for another chance to talk to Scott, but I just stood frozen in place. 

I knew it wouldn’t be possible to avoid them forever—Beacon Hills isn’t a huge town—but I wasn’t ready to confront them again yet. As I finally approached the table after everyone else, the two boys stared at me before sharing a long look. 

Well, that can’t mean anything good. 

“Why are they sitting with us?” Stiles leaned across the table to ask Scott, who just shrugged, as we all sat down. Man, someone needs to teach this guy how to whisper. 

Scott ended up sandwiched between Lydia and Allison. Danny plopped down beside Stiles and Jackson took the chair at the head of the table. The only option left for me was on Stiles’ other side, so I begrudgingly sat there. I felt his eyes on me but did my best to ignore it. 

“So, I hear they’re saying it was some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar?” Danny played with his apple and leaned his elbows on the table. 

I assumed he was talking about the poor man who’d been brutally attacked in one of the school busses overnight. There were enough rumors going around school to host an entire newscast, but no one really knew anything for sure. 

“I heard mountain lion.” Jackson corrected. 

“A cougar is a mountain lion.” Lydia muttered, seemingly embarrassed to know that fact. She constantly downplayed her intelligence, but I knew she was practically a genius. 

Jackson furrowed his brows at her in annoyance. “Who cares? The guy was probably just some homeless tweaker who was gonna die anyway.” 

Stiles put down his half peeled orange and fished his phone from his back pocket. Within seconds he had a news article about the incident pulled up. 

“Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out.” He put his phone in the middle of the table so everyone could see.

I had to lean forward to get a glimpse of the small screen, which had my shoulder just a couple inches shy of resting on Stiles’ arm. I chewed on my bottom lip as I felt the warmth from his body. He let out a quick huff and stiffened beside me, so I took that as a sign to back away. My cheeks grew hot as I leaned back into my chair and avoided his wandering gaze. 

The video he played stated that the victim was a bus driver for the district. Stiles and Scott shared a wide-eyed look that told me there was more to the story before Lydia changed the subject to a double date she wanted Allison and Scott to go on tonight. 

They both looked uncomfortable with the idea, but eventually agreed, even after Jackson said it would be more fun to stab himself in the face with his fork than hangout with Scott. A little dramatic, if you ask me. But whatever. I was just glad I wouldn’t have to sit through it with them.

Lunch ended shortly after, and everyone dissipated quickly. I had plans to meet Allison at our lockers after school so she could drive me home in her new car, but I wouldn’t see any of my friends until then. 

I collected my things and stood to leave, but stopped when a hand wrapped around my bicep. 

“Not so fast.” It was Stiles. He looked from side to side before leaning only a few inches away and once again failing at whispering. “Have you told them?” 

“Told who what?” I decided to play dumb and he cocked his head at me in annoyance. 

“Come on, Y/N. You know what I mean. The wolfy stuff?” He waved his free hand around as he talked. 

“Look, I don’t want anything to do with you, Scott, or the supernatural.” I tried to make that sound believable. It wasn’t that I was lying. Its’s just, without all the weird things going on, I would love to be both his and Scott’s friends. I just couldn’t risk getting involved in this kind of thing.

His eyes twitched at me and I sighed. “I don’t plan on telling anyone.” 

“Okay. Good. Because Derek and Scott? They can’t afford...” 

Out of nowhere, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over me. Stiles’ voice faded away until all I could hear was a low ringing in my ears. The ground tilted beneath me and I stumbled to the side, growing faint. Stiles’ eyes widened and he pulled me upright with the hand that was still holding onto me. 

I could see his lips moving, but no sound reached my ears. It was like his words had somehow triggered an episode. I closed my eyes tightly but instantly regretted that decision as images flashed through my mind quickly. It was Scott, fighting someone. Or something. He was in a dilapidated building that looked like it was going to crumble to the ground any second.

After a moment I realized it was the Hale house, and the monster he was fighting was Derek. He looked different. Almost animalistic. Like...a wolf. 

I gasped myself out of the vision, and Stiles’ panicked voice filled my ears in a rush.

“What is that? What are you doing? Are you having a stroke or something?”

I tried to catch my breath and piece together everything I’d just seen. Whatever it was, I gathered that Scott would be in serious danger if he came anywhere near Derek today. I hesitated, not wanting to sound crazy, but then remembered Stiles had just seen that whole thing. 

“You can’t let Scott go to Derek’s tonight.” I sounded way more worried than I’d meant to as I hurried to get the words out.

“Derek?” Stiles’ thin brows pinched in question. “We had him arrested a few days ago.” 

I blinked, surprised. I knew he was in jail, because I’d heard the Sheriff talking in the hall this morning about his upcoming release. But I had no idea Scott and Stiles were to blame. That might explain why Derek would want to kill Scott...

“You didn’t hear? He was released this morning. They determined the animal that attacked the bus driver was a...” I trailed off, my eyes growing wide as I put the pieces together. “Wolf.”

Stiles’ face mirrored the horror I felt inside as he finally let go of my arm and stumbled back a few steps. “Yeah. We’re dead.”

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

I fidgeted with my hands in my lap as I sat on Allison’s bed. She and Lydia were picking out what they wanted to wear for their double date tonight, but I could hardly focus on a word they were saying.

My stomach was in knots and my anxiety was only rising with each passing minute. I didn’t even know Scott well, but the thought of him being killed by Derek was still unsettling. I’d already figured out that Derek is a werewolf. And most likely a murderer.

The police and hospital staff determined that a wolf killed the bus driver, but there haven’t been any wolf sightings in Beacon Hills for nearly sixty years. 

Yes, I looked it up.

All signs pointed to Derek, and I could feel that my earlier vision was getting progressively closer to coming true. I had no idea how, but if my jitters were any indication, nothing good was coming. 

“Y/N?” I snapped back into the present at the sound of Lydia’s voice. 

I looked up from my hands to see that both of them were staring at me expectantly. 

“Um.” I cleared my throat. “What?” 

Lydia rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “I said, Allison’s taste is dwindling by the minute. Don't you agree? Come take a look.”

I hesitantly joined them at her closet and flicked through her clothes. They weren't terrible by any means. Definitely not mine or Lydia’s style, but they didn't have to be. I found a black shirt with glittering sequins on the front and pulled it free. 

“What about this?”

Lydia hummed and watched Allison hold it up after she’d taken it from me. 

Just then, Allison’s bedroom door popped open gently. Her dad walked in with a pleasant smile on his lips. He was pulling his arms through a green jacket that complimented his red flannel shirt, but stopped with one arm still free. 

His eyes traveled over the three of us. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.” 

Lydia threw herself on the bed and landed with one arm propped beneath her head and the other on her hip. What the hell was she doing and why was she making that seductive face? “Hey, Mr. Argent.”

Allison tucked her hair behind her ears and dropped the shirt beside Lydia. “Dad. Did you need something?”

Her demeanor had instantly changed the second he walked in. I knew they had a good relationship for the most part, but she clearly didn’t approve of him being in here right now. 

“I wanted to tell you that you’re staying in tonight.” He continued putting on his jacket casually, as if he didn’t just ruin her plans.

“What? I’m going out with my friends tonight.” Her eyes widened in shock at his words. 

I suddenly felt out of place. The last thing I wanted to listen to was one of my friends fighting with their parents. It just was plain awkward. Lydia sat up on the bed and I could’ve sworn I saw a little disappointed frown pull at her lips. 

“Not while some animal is out there attacking people.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe that Allison wanted to leave the house at all. 

I mean, he had a point. There was a psycho killer out there. They just didn’t know that it also happened to be a mythical creature. And a brooding recluse in leather.

“Dad! I... I’m—” Allison raised her voice and threw her arms down in frustration. 

“Hey, hey.” Her dad interrupted with a stern look. “It’s out of my hands. There’s a curfew. No one’s allowed out past nine thirty.”

I had actually forgotten about that. It was pretty dumb, really. It wasn’t like an animal would look at the clock and say, “Oh, crap. It’s not nine thirty yet. Can’t attack anyone for ten more minutes.”

Allison’s dad turned to leave and she huffed. Looks like they’ll have to find another way to go on their date. 

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

It was nearly midnight now, and I hadn’t heard any grief filled screaming from next door, so I figured Scott was okay. The car in the driveway let me know that his mom was home and I took that as another good sign. He probably was too. I needed to stop freaking out. 

I was home alone, which didn’t help. There wouldn’t be anyone here to distract me from my mounting anxiety until five in the morning, when mom got off of work. To pass the time, I put on a random trash reality show and laid mindlessly on the couch.

I didn’t want to think right now. I wanted a distraction from the craziness that was ensuing all around me, and TV was always reliable.

I nearly had a heart attack when someone began aggressively banging on the front door. It wasn’t even close to normal knocking. No, it was I’m being chased by an axe murderer and you need to let me in right now before I’m decapitated kind of hammering.

I jumped to my feet and jogged to the door to see who it was, afraid something was wrong. I pressed my eye to the peep hole and frowned in confusion, the wood vibrating beneath my fingers. The incessant pounding continued up until the very moment I swung the door open.

I stared expectantly at the boy in front of me, who still had his right hand raised as if he were going to continue trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood.

“Scott’s not home.” Stiles somehow managed to be out of breath from the short walk between our houses.

A few tense beats of silence passed between us as I waited for him to continue. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to, I prodded. “And?”

“And that’s bad. Very very bad.”

I let my eyes sweep over him, half convinced that he was drunk or something. He wasn’t making any sense. For starters, why would I care if Scott is home or not? And why was he in such a frenzy over it? It looked like he’d jumped out of bed and ran straight here. He was only wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a grey t-shirt with a skull on it, so I knew he hadn’t taken his time in getting ready. If he had, he’d be wearing at least two other layers. 

“I already checked Allison’s. His mom thought he was still on the date. He isn’t answering any of my texts.” Stiles was rambling, clearly very worked up.

I moved to pull my phone out of my back pocket. “I’ll just call Allison, I’m sure she knows where—”

“No!” Stiles slapped it out of my hand and I watched as it clattered onto the concrete a few feet away.

My jaw dropped in shock and his eyes widened as if realizing what he just did. He stood frozen for a moment before scooping it up and shoving it into the pocket of his jacket.

“Are you crazy? Give that back.” I took a small step outside, but didn’t go far. I still wasn't wearing any shoes. 

He shook his head quickly. “He has to be at Derek’s. You’re coming with me.” 

“Okay, now I know you’re crazy.” I let out a humorless laugh but grew serious again when he just stared at me with his wide caramel eyes. “Why would I come with you?”

“All I have is my Jeep and a baseball bat, but I need to make sure he’s okay. I’m slightly terrified. And I have your phone.”

I frowned. So he was holding it hostage now. There was no way I would ever willingly set foot on that property again. The last time I was there, I saw half of a dead body. I did not want to see the other half. Or a new dead body, like Scott’s.

There was absolutely no way.

                                                 ——————

The Jeep skidded to a stop outside the Hale house. It was so abrupt that I whipped forward in the passenger seat, my face just barely missing the dashboard due to my seatbelt.

Stiles sent me a sheepish, lopsided smile before bolting from the car. I rolled my eyes up to the sky and sighed. I was so going to regret this.

I jumped out and followed him to the front door, noticing that Scott’s bike was laying beside the porch. I silently pointed at it and Stiles stiffened as he stood with one hand on the door. That wasn’t exactly a good sign.

Suddenly, Scott’s voice echoed from inside.

“Derek! I know you’re here. I know what you did!” He sounded frantic.

Stiles immediately ran into the house and I had no choice but to follow. Scott whipped around at the sound of the door slamming open. His wide eyes moved from Stiles to me in confusion.

“I didn't do anything.” Derek’s disembodied voice drifted from somewhere upstairs.

Seemingly forgetting about our existence, Scott turned back to the wide staircase in front of him.

“You killed him!” He called upward.

He must be talking about the bus driver. It was only logical that Derek was the murderer, but why Scott thought it was a good idea to confront him about it, I had no idea. He must have a death wish. My heart started hammering in my chest. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the guy. 

“He died...” Derek responded, sounding as ominous as ever.

Scott took the first step. “Like your sister died?”

His sister?

“My sister was missing.” His voice raised a little in anger. He was still nowhere to be seen. “I came here looking for her.”

“Well, you found her.” Scott continued moving up the stairs slowly, looking for Derek with each movement.

“I found her in pieces! Being used as bait to catch me!” His voice echoed throughout the entire house now as he grew louder. Scott was pissing him off, which was quite possibly the dumbest thing I’d ever witnessed.

Oh, shit. The body in the yard was his sister. My blood ran cold. What kind of sick bastard kills their own family? Being here was such a bad idea. 

Scott was at the top of the stairs now, turning in circles slowly. “I think you killed them both, and I’m going to tell everyone. Starting with the sheriff.”

Stiles stiffened beside me at the mention of his father. I didn’t blame him. He may be the sheriff, but that didn't exactly qualify him to investigate supernatural murders. I saw a shadow shift upstairs and my heart plummeted into my stomach.  

“Watch out!” I called, but it was too late.

Derek appeared from the darkness and shoved Scott down the stairs violently. I gasped and covered my mouth as he tumbled down like a rag doll. Derek just stood at the top, watching. Stiles jerked into motion, running to his side as he lay crumbled on the hardwood floors.

Scott pushed himself up to his knees and groaned. Then, he lifted his head and growled loudly at Stiles. His eyes widened in fear and he stumbled back, falling on his ass. He scrambled away as fast as he could, rejoining my side.

All I could do was stare with wide eyes, my jaw almost hitting the floor. Scott looked half animal, half human. His eyes were glowing bright yellow, his brow was thicker, his ears were pointy, and he had deadly long canines. His fingernails had been replaced by lethal claws. He was in full werewolf mode.

Derek jumped down the entire staircase in one fluid motion. When he landed gracefully on his feet, Stiles gripped my arms and tugged me backwards. I stumbled into him, my back hitting his chest, but I was too shocked by the sight before me to move away. We ducked down beside the staircase. 

The two werewolves stared at each other for a long moment before Scott clutched the lapels of Derek’s jacket and threw him into the air. I couldn’t help but gasp as he went flying through a nearby wall. Scott was strong as hell, which would be cool in any other situation, but right now it was kind of terrifying. The house fell into silence as Derek collected himself in the other room.

“Get out of here.” Scott growled in our direction, his voice thick and guttural.

He didn’t need to tell me twice. I was about to do just that, when Derek came striding back into the foyer. I froze in a half crouched position until Stiles pulled me back down against him. If we weren't in danger right now, I would've blushed at our close proximity. My back was pressed to his chest again, and he had a hand clasped around one of my shoulders to hold me in place. 

“That was cute.” Derek slowly removed his leather jacket and discarded it on the floor. 

Oh, God. That couldn't be good. 

The two beasts growled at each other while walking in circles before Derek suddenly lifted Scott by the shoulders and slammed him back into a wall right in front of where we hid. Stiles let go of my shoulder to grip one of my hands tightly as we stumbled up the stairs, having nowhere else to go.

Derek looked utterly petrifying. He was way bigger than Scott, and clearly stronger. He was pretty much handing him his ass in this fight already, but it looked like he was holding back at the same time. I didn’t doubt for a second that he could easily end it at any moment.

He landed punch after punch, and all Stiles and I could do was watch. At that moment, I realized he hadn’t even brought his bat inside. We were utterly useless.

It seemed to go on forever. Scott landed some punches, but it was nothing compared to the damage Derek was doing. I let out a shaky breath when I realized I’d been holding it in for several seconds. I cringed as Derek lifted Scott into the air by his neck, only to slam him down onto the floor. He repeated this action several times, until Scott was left groaning on the ground in a crumpled heap. 

Then, they both shifted back to normal. 

“I didn’t kill him.” Derek clenched his fists and took a threatening step toward Scott. “Neither of us did. It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine.”  

“This? This is all your fault! You ruined my life!” Scott, being the dumbass that he is, got in Derek’s face and yelled his frustrations. 

“No, I didn’t.” Derek insisted, raising his voice a little too. 

“You’re the one who bit me.”

“No, I’m not.” 

I shifted uncomfortably beside Stiles. It looked like the fighting was over, but that didn't make me want to be here any more. This place would give me the creeps even if there weren’t two werewolves bickering in front of me.

“This seems like a private conversation.” I muttered and popped to my feet. He spazzed out and grabbed my arms quickly. 

“Are you insane?” He forced me back down with a glare. 

“What?!” Scott suddenly shouted, and I jumped. 

“I’m not the one who bit you.” 

Scott fell back onto a nasty green couch behind him. That news had taken the air right from his lungs. He stared at the dusty floors for a long moment, processing. “There’s another...”

“Its called an alpha. It’s the most dangerous of our kind. You and I, we’re betas. This thing is more powerful, more animal, than either of us. My sister came here looking for him. Now I’m trying to find him, but I don’t think I can do it without you.” Derek was looking at Scott intensely, urging him to listen. To help him. 

I wasn't entirely sure that he was even telling the truth. It really did look like he killed that girl. His sister. Half of her was buried in his yard, for God’s sake. We didn't know him at all. Why should be just believe him?

“Why me?” Scott asked breathlessly. It seemed he was a lot more willing to go along with this. 

“Because he’s the one that bit you.” I stiffened. Didn't that mean they were somehow connected? I’d done as much reading about werewolves as possible, but there wasn't as much online as you would think.

“You’re part of his pack. It’s you, Scott. You’re the one he wants.” 

“You don't believe this, do you?” I whispered to Stiles, who shook his head solemnly. 

“Not for a second.”

Episode 2, Part Two      Episode 4

[devourer--of--books]

Remember that one time I wrote a Tangled AU?

Context

During 2016, I submitted a few stories for Tagatha Ship Week. Not my best work, but some of my most known works nonetheless. Amongst those, I had a Tangled AU that was originally meant to be a one shot (which has been deleted because sweet lord that was bad), then turned into a draft for a multichapter story and then turned into this cursed WIP I completely forgot about, which you can find on both Ao3 and FF.net  under the name of ‘blinking in the starlight’.

Every once in a while someone comes across it, as it was the case with ‘if you’re not the bride’ and it would remind me of its existence. But unlike IYNTB, I have no interest in rewriting it or continuing this story. 

A few weeks ago I found the original draft for ‘blinking in the starlight’ in my dad’s old computer, so I thought I might do a post no one asked for (some people did, you guys are great, humoring me like that) on what the plot was supposed to be.

But after sitting with it I wasn’t fully satisfied (as usual, fml). So, like the clown that I am, I decided that since we are already here, might as well make it into an actual AU post, mind my language, I’m frustrated.

Blinking In The Starlight: Tangled AU

Okay, so I’m gonna presume that you read the WIP, so if you didn’t, maybe check that out first and then come back to this post. Or don’t, it’s not like it’s a very complex narrative anyway.

Many, many years before this story starts, there was a cruel sorcerer named Rafal.

He tormented the Endless Woods for centuries, extorting kingdoms and stuff, you know, very much a two-dimensional character whose motivations I definitely did not think through. Being evil I guess?

No one could defeat him, because he always somehow ended up knowing the traps were coming and was two steps ahead. No one knew how, so they just like, presumed it was because he was psychic or something.

Until one day, a young vain prince named Arthur of Camelot decides to order a hunt to the big blue falcons, to get their feathers as a present to the girl he was courting, one Lady Guinevere.

Would you believe those birds were Rafal’s spies? Now that everyone was hunting them, they could no longer listen in as easily.

So when Prince Arthur campaigns against Rafal’s evilness and challenges him to a duel in which he tricks the sorcerer and defeats him, stripping him of most his powers (and therefore his immortality), everyone was shook 

Don’t ask me how he did it, I honestly do not know

But instead of killing Rafal, Arthur agrees to spare his mortal life as long as he gives him a powerful love potion for Guinevere and never shows his face around Camelot ever again.

Rafal is pissed, but says sure why not, because he knew  Arthur would be crushed once the potion effects wore off and Guinevere left him anyway

So yeah, they became King and Queen, everyone thinks Rafal is dead, Camelot became known as the guardian kingdom of the Endless Woods alliance, yada yada.

Meanwhile, Rafal, now mortal and still pissed af, looks for a way to get his immortality back, because he is now old and tired all the time.He goes to one of his oldest allies and they tell him a rumor about a woman named Vanessa who found a way to stay young forever using a bird.

It takes a few years for him to track her down, but when he does, he tries to convince her to show him the bird. Vanessa is like that sounds like a you problem, so he threatens her and she tells him she ate it to save her life during her pregnancy (do not ask me how this works, why she couldn’t have healed herself like usual, I don’t know okay)

Rafal is pissed again, because Vanessa was still looking young, so either she lied or she was omitting something and decides you know what, screw you and murders everyone, trying to find the damned bird.

But then he hears soft singing from the closet. A little girl named Sophie, who apparently had inherited the bird’s ability to restore youth. 

First, he thinks of raising her as his daughter. But then, one day she’d try to leave him for a boy, so he decides to trick her into thinking he was that boy, so she’d never want to leave him.

He sells her this bullshit story about everything being a fairytale like the ones her books, makes himself look like a teenager and tells her he is now going to take care of her because they are true loves and whatnot

Using the money from his previous evilness (why am I like this), he builds a tower and gaslights the hell out of her telling her is was to keep the danger outside, when actually he was caging her in. Her guards are all mercenaries and her maids are kidnaped slaves so, hm, that’s nice

He keeps visiting her to restore his youth, but he needs the macguffin Arthur used to take away his immortality (I didn’t specify what it was in my draft, so let’s say its Excalibur, for the sake of storytelling) to restore his full greatness, so he starts a long-long-plan to overthrow Camelot once he gets him hands on the sword.

However, Sophie is a person of her own, even being manipulated and gaslighted. She wants to go outside and see the world. Obviously Rafal won’t let her, and even gives her a ring to summon him and stuff, so she won’t think about going anywhere out of his sight.

But she ends up doing it anyway because she’s Sophie

Now hold on a minute.

Back in Camelot, Arthur has already died, Guinevere ran off with Lancelot and Tedros is a brat, walking around with Excalibur (not knowing how powerful it actually is) playing glorified police officer for the royal guard as a way to prove he’ll be a good king someday.

Festival season is approaching and prince Teddy is on a man-hunt (woman-hunt?) for the thief that has been ambushing noble carriages.

They have some good banter, but the thief always manages to distract him and get away.

Guess who is the thief

It’s Agatha, leave me alone, I was 15 and loved cliches, shut up

Yes, I know I’m now almost 19 and still love cliches, moving on

Agatha is stealing money from the rich like a robin hood pro, because festival season is expensive and poor people need to eat okay

But prince-holier-than-thou keeps showing up so she decides to be petty and steal directly from him. Girl just wanted some gold, but ends up with Excalibur because Tedros is an idiot

So he chases her through the woods for days on end, hot on her trail, and Aric gets caught on the crossfire between them. Agatha presumes from his uniform that there is a castle near and decides to hide there.

Tagatha ends up in Sophie’s tower, and she hides Excalibur to bargain with them.

She strikes a deal with Tedros to show her the festival in exchange for Excalibur. 

Agatha is just f this shit im out, she didn’t want the sword in the first place and last thing she needs is going to Camelot with a pseudo-police-officer.

But then Tedros realizes he doesn't know how to go back to Camelot and Sophie makes him promise not to turn Agatha in. Agatha is still skeptical, so he promises to lift taxes for the lower classes and she agrees to be their unofficial guide back to Camelot.

Princes can't break promises, don’t ask

The three of them escape the tower. 

Shenanigans ensue.

There’s a scene of Agatha helping people in a tavern and Tedros is like???? she nice????

Sophie finding out that the old wizard from her story was the guy King Arthur supposedly killed and doubting Rafal’s lies.

There’s Tedros explaining his need to be just and abide by the laws all the time due to the pressure of his father’s rep after the three of them nearly die of hypothermia (?)

Sophie telling them about her talent.

Very wholesome really.

Meanwhile tho, Aric finally manages to alert Rafal that Sophie left, and Rafal summons his birds to look for her, figuring out that she had Excalibur (how? Idk)

When the trio reaches Camelot, it’s still a few days before the festival. Agatha says she is done and needs to be on her way, but Tedros (softly, may I add) asks her to stay, at least until the lantern scene/day/tradition/thingy

Their unspoken feelings are all over the place and Sophie decides to play matchmaker.

They stay in an inn (why did Tedros not sneak them into the castle, you ask? I don’t know, don’t ask) and Sophie makes the guy tell them there is only two rooms. She then makes up some balloney about wanting to be by herself, so Agatha and Tedros share a room.

Yeah, you know what I’m doing, don’t you: there’s only one bed.

Some other tropes for a very fluffy chapter equivalent of the score of Kingdom Dance, which is my favorite song in the Tangled Soundtrack, fight me, is such a good ‘falling in love montage’ song

But the fluff doesn’t last long, because the very night of the festival, just as you can almost hear Tagatha singing ‘and at last I see the light’, Rafal’s birds find Sophie and take off her ring by force.

Rafal crashes the festival, stealing Excalibur from Sophie and unleashing his coupe against Camelot, back to being immortal and super over-powered.

He throws Sophie back in her tower, and when she doesn't comply and asks him to stop we have a ‘I never loved you’ ‘you were always just a bird to me, a dumb bird’ moment and Sophie is just destroyed because aside from her new friends (whom she believed were dead) Rafal is all she has.

Back in Camelot, complete mayhem is being wrecked, bloodshed and stuff. Agatha manages to rescue Tedros before his execution and they figure out that they need to rescue Sophie and get Excalibur to kill Rafal for good.

“Insert part one of TLEA here”, bitch, I kid you not, that’s exactly what I wrote wtf even is this draft

Somehow it all leads into this big confrontation, in which Sophie strips Rafal of his immortality using the sword but can’t bring herself to kill him. So she asks Tedros to do it, so he can prove himself to his kingdom.

I do not know where Agatha is during this, but I’m pretty sure she’s like, fatally wounded or something

Rafal reveals to Tedros why Arthur spared his life the first time and offers him a potion to make Agatha return his (already mutual, you idiot) feelings. 

Tedros is like, nah, I’m gonna kill you, and Rafal is like are you sure she won’t just ride off and leave you like your mama?

And Tedros is just, honestly, man, I’m not, but I’m not gonna force her. Then some analogy about caging birds and Rafal is dead.

Yey, happy ending.

So Tedros and Agatha are left in this limbo, because she poor and she a criminal and he a prince. 

Tedros decides to have Agatha take the glory of killing Rafal to redeem her in the public eye, grants her a title, she makes Sophie her lady-in-waiting and they all live happily ever after the end.

[mikeydoodledandy]

“Barclay? What are you doing all the way out here? It’s late.” Barclay sighed softly, looking up to his partner as Joseph approached. The agent was dressed in what he’d worn to bed, a light blanket wrapped around him and his sneakers hastily pulled on without socks. He looked worried, but Barclay supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Waking up in the middle of the night to find your lover missing from your bed was no doubt kind of jarring.

“I... woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to go for a walk rather than bother you with my tossing and turning. Sorry.” He was seated at the edge of the clearing overlooking the archway, on a wooden bench that had been put there after the events of the Quell. The moon was full, shining brightly overhead and casting a pale glow on the forest below. 

Joseph nodded quietly. “May I join you, or would you prefer to be alone?”

“...Go ahead.”

Stern sat, adjusting his blanket around his shoulders before carefully offering his hand to Barclay. They sylph considered it a moment before gently entwining their fingers between them, not saying anything else. They shared the silence together, the cool mountain breeze rustling their clothes and hair as shadows crept from the woods as the moon rose higher.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Joseph asked after a time, rubbing his thumb against his partner’s.

“What is there to talk about?”

“I don’t know. Any of it. The new connection back to Sylvain. They sylphs leaving the lodge. Why you’re out here of all places.”

“Ah. Those things. Right.” Barclay sighed again, looking down at their hands. His chest was tight and all the feelings he’d been having lately threatened to bubble up in his throat. The sylph swallowed thickly, considering his words.

He and Joseph had been together going on almost half a year now, settling into their new reality as best they could. Much of it had been wonderful. Joseph was an amazing partner and it felt so good to finally reciprocate their feelings after almost an entire year of pining, and make up for lost time together. Whether it was dinner dates, or curling up by the fire, or falling into bed together, it had been bliss.

But, as all things tended to be, not everything was perfect. Life went on and the people of Kepler rebuilt, but the scars had been left on the town and its people. Perhaps those in the Pine Guard most of all.

Dani and Aubrey were still on their travels in Sylvain, healing in their own way together. They’d promised to return for a big reunion in the fall that Amnesty and the townfolk were planning, but the lodge was quiet without them in the meantime. Thacker too was missed, away on his own travels into the wilds of the planet Barclay had once called home. Barclay hoped they were all doing alright, he missed them a lot and while they were able to get in touch, their conversations were few and far between.

Duck had left too. He and Minerva and Juno had all left for Brazil in the noble effort of replanting the forests there. Barclay suspected though that Duck needed to get away from it all as well and do some healing of his own.

Which meant only Barclay and Mama remained of the Pine Guard. Not that it really mattered anymore. The abominations were long gone, no longer being grown by the DOM and sent to Earth to incite conflict between their worlds. For the first time in so long, they could rest easy knowing that the full moon would come and go time and time again and no beasts would slink from the shadows to threaten their way of life.

Barclay always thought he’d be relieved for it all to come to an end, and for the most part he was, but he’d found he didn’t quite know what to do with himself anymore. Now that they’d managed to reconnect Earth and Sylvain with the help of Dr. Sarah Drake and Minerva’s strange magicks, many of the sylphs at the lodge had made the choice to go home, their exile having ended in the wake of the prevented apocalypse.

For the first time in years, Amnesty Lodge was.. just another inn. 

They’d gotten more business as tourists flocked to the town to see the mountain that had moved. The FBI had covered up most of it and the official statement was that it had been a massive collapse of underground caverns that had caused the mountain to crumble into the river, but there were rumors of what really happened. There would always be rumors.

But Barclay found that, even in his happiness of a new relationship, he missed the home that they’d all once made for themselves. It felt... empty. Jake and a few others had stayed and he was grateful for that, but he still found himself wistful for what they’d once had.

He finally let out a long breath, leaning over and resting his head on Joseph’s shoulder. “I miss them, Jo. I understand why they left, they needed to do what was right for them, but I just.. miss them so much it kinda hurts. The Lodge took me in and gave me a purpose all those years ago. We were all scared and tired and recovering from what was taken from us, but we were a family, y’know? We had each other. And now everyone’s... somewhere else.”

“Not everyone, but I know that’s a small consolation,” Joseph replied, gently squeezing Barclay’s fingers. “I’m sure Dani and Aubrey will return eventually, as will Thacker. But I know that’s not now and it’s okay to miss them.”

“Yeah.. And it’s not like.. I’m not moving on either, just in kind of a different way.” He raised Joseph’s hand to his lips, pressing a careful kiss to the back of it. “I never would have thought I’d find someone like you, Jo. Not like this. I don’t regret for a second that everything changed, because if we’d just kept on fighting the abominations for the rest of our lives and never stopped the Quell or the DOM, you and I.. probably wouldn’t have ever been able to get together. I just wish so many people hadn’t left me behind in the process.”

“I’d like to think you might have told me one day regardless, but I suppose that’s rather wishful thinking, isn’t it.”

“I dunno, I might’ve. I’d been considering it before the shapeshifter came and messed everything up. We had that moment and I know I chickened out, but if I’d had just a little more time, I think I might’ve come clean anyway.”

“Yes, that was all quite the mess, wasn’t it? Still, regardless of if you had told me your identity or not, if you’d continued to fight the abominations, well.. Tell me, how many of the Pine Guard actually survived the ordeal? You would have always been at risk.”

“I mean... hm.. Guess you have a point. I don’t think there’s really any answer to this though. I’m just... sad. My heart hurts with missing them.”

“No, I know. I’m not trying to rationalize away your pain, Barclay. I just wish there was more I could do,” Joseph sighed, Barclay nodding quietly.

“I appreciate it, Jo. And honestly, you’re doing plenty by just being here with me. How lucky am I that my boyfriend is willing to hike out into the middle of the woods in the dead of night just to make sure I’m okay?”

“I would hope anyone in a loving relationship would do the same. You came looking for me last winter when I got stuck out in that snowstorm, and that was even before we were together.”

“Well, yeah I wasn’t just gonna let you freeze out here.”

“Still. We look out for each other. I want to be here for you just as much as you’ve been here for me.”

Barclay smiled a little, but he still felt like he had a knot in his chest. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“...It’s all the little things I miss about them the most. Like making everyone’s favorite order. I had everyone’s preferences and tastes down to a science. There was familiarity in that; a sense that I was a part of a bigger picture. And stuff like Dani, Aubrey and Jake all piling on the sofa and giggling together over some dumb meme or joke or what they were planning for a new prank. And how Duck always had the funniest ranger stories, that he could just deliver so completely deadpan that you couldn’t help but laugh. And when Ned-” Barclay stopped himself, throat too tight to continue without choking up anyway. His eyes were wet and itchy, the sylph rubbing them with the heel of his hand. “Fuck, Jo I just..”

Before he could try to say anything else, Joseph pulled him into a strong hug. It was firm and loving and surprised Barclay for a moment, but after he relaxed in the other man’s hold it reminded him that he wasn’t so alone. 

With an anchor to ground him, Barclay found he couldn’t hold back the swell of emotions that had been building within him. Pressing his face into Joseph’s shoulder, he hugged his partner back and let himself cry.

He missed his friends, he missed his community. Change was a part of life, but rarely was it an easy one. He just wanted them all to come back and be a big happy family again. He wanted the lodge to feel like home again. Everyone had gone on their way and left him to pick up the pieces and it hurt. It hurt to be left behind.

His partner rocked him gently as he finally released all the exhaustion and sorrow he’d been carrying the last few months. Barclay might be the bigger of the two of them, but Joseph held him with a strength that made him feel safe to be vulnerable like this. The agent stroked his long hair, wrapping the blanket he had around both of them as Barclay clenched his fingers in the man’s shirt while he cried.

Eventually, his grief slipped into exhaustion, leaving him shaky and spent. He was grateful to have the man he loved there to steady him through it, resting heavily in Joseph’s arms.

“Sorry...” The sylph mumbled hoarsely, his eyes raw. Joseph shook his head, threading his fingers in his boyfriend’s hair.

“Don’t be. It’s okay.”

“I got snot on your shirt.”

“That’s also okay.”

Barclay managed a chuckle at that, pulling away and wiping his nose on his sleeve. Joseph smiled at him softly, reaching up and wiping the tears from his cheeks. Barclay’s eyes were puffy and he was kind of starting to get a headache, but he felt a little better than he had before.

“Thanks, Jo.”

“Of course, love.”

They both sat quietly once more under Joseph’s blanket, this time wrapped in each other’s embrace as the night grew longer. The agent was calmly observing the archway, fingers idly stroking the hairs on Barclay’s arm. He bit his lip as he often did when there was something he wasn’t sure he should say, the sylph nudging him when he noticed.

“What’s up?”

“Well, I...” Joseph let out a soft breath, his fingers stopping their ministrations. “You could always go back, you know. I was always a little surprised you never brought it up or suggested it, actually. I thought maybe you’d want to return with everyone else and you clearly miss your friends.”

“Ah.” Barclay’s shoulders sagged, the man scuffing his shoe in the dirt as he mulled on his words. “I’m not gonna say I haven’t considered it. I’ve actually thought about it a lot, but I just.. don’t think there’s room for me to heal and grow in Sylvain. It’s not home to me anymore. I was born here on earth and while Sylvain gave me my mind and my form, my love for this planet has always been stronger. I was exiled when I was young and stupid, so all my growth and experience come from learning from humans. As much as I miss my friends, I think at the end of the day, my place is still here.”

“It’s been a long time though, hasn’t it? Out of all the other sylphs, you’re the only one who hasn’t even gone back to visit. Even I’ve been back to Sylvain at this point.” 

“Yeah, well... Hm. It’s kinda complicated. I guess I just.. never really fit in Sylvain to begin with. Something about earth always called me in a way that being there didn’t. These mountains feel more like I belong here than I ever felt there. There’s something about Earth, about Kepler especially that just.. makes me feel at peace. It’s this swell that I feel right in my chest whenever the sun sets and spreads a warm glow through the trees or how the earth smells after a fresh rain. Things like that that just feel right that I never felt on Sylvain.

“Those are good reasons.” Joseph nodded, looking back up at the arch. “I was worried it might just be me keeping you here, which if that was the case, well...”

“You do play a part in it too, Joseph, but don’t take that the wrong way.” Barclay leaned over and kissed Joseph’s forehead, enjoying the warmth of his skin against his lips. “That warmth I feel when I think about how much I love earth, I feel the most when I’m with you. You remind me of everything I love about humanity, Jo and I don’t ever want you to think that you’re holding me back.”

“Alright. I don’t know if I exactly embody everything great about the human race, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Naw, I don’t mean it like that. I just mean.. I love you for you. Your kindness and warmth and habits and flaws, they make me happy. You make me happy, Jo.”

“You make me very happy too, Barclay.”

Joseph gently cupped Barclay’s face, leaning in to kiss him. It was soft and careful, Barclay wishing he was a little less rough from crying, but grateful for the comfort. He leaned his cheek against his Joseph’s palm, closing his eyes. It was a mild night and he found he wanted to linger in the gentleness of his partner’s affection. The man had been so good to him in their time together and had given him so much. The sylph opened his eyes, meeting Stern’s fond and understanding expression. One last sorrow bubbled up in his chest, one he found he was finally ready to share.

“I’ve.. never told you how I was exiled, have I.”

“You haven’t, no. It didn’t seem like my place to ask.”

“You can always ask me stuff, babe. That said, I dunno how great of an answer I would have given if you had.” Barclay smiled sadly, settling back beside his boyfriend and gazing up at the full moon.

“Well.. I was exiled because I loved humanity a bit too much. I came to Sylvain as all animal sylphs do, stumbling through a gate without a mind of my own yet, scared and confused. I don’t remember that part, but no one ever does. Slowly, I grew though. I started forming memories I still have, was taken in by a loving family, grew up in a society that’s both progressive and stunted compared to a human one. The usual story.”

Barclay took a deep breath, taking in the soft scent of pine on the breeze, his knee pressed to Joseph. “I had a best friend growing up. We got into all sorts of trouble together. Nothing ever malicious, but we certainly weren’t perfect angels by any means. We’d get into places we shouldn’t, played pranks, that sort of stuff. We were best friends to the end back in those days.”

“Anyone I would know?”

“He’s not one of the sylphs who came over here if that’s what you’re asking. But you might actually.. well, lemme just continue before I start dropping names.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine, Jo. Anyway, we were still friends into our young adulthood, and still kinda mischief makers. He was being groomed for a really important position in the sylvan government, however, while I was kinda.. I dunno, doing my own thing. But we still had fun and he could get us access to places no one else in the kingdom could enter, which.. included the gate.”

Barclay gazed up at the archway with a soft sigh. “It was in New York back then and at first we’d just do really stupid shit like put a hand through it or quickly jump in and out of it when we got bold enough. Eventually though, we got ourselves disguises and would sneak through to earth in the middle of the night. It was peak risk-taking, but in the process we both kinda fell in love with humans. Not like.. literally, not yet anyway.”

He nudged Joseph with a small chuckle, who returned it with a smile, a faint blush to his cheeks, but this time he stayed quiet as Barclay continued. 

“Human society was so different from ours, yet still so familiar. I think a lot of animal sylphs experience that if they go to earth. There’s this connection we have that, even though we can’t remember our lives as animals, we can feel it, y’know? It’s kinda like deja vu. But it wasn’t just that. Humans are creative in a way that sylphs really aren’t. Humans don’t have magic, so they have to come up with new and interesting ways to do things and bring new and creative ideas to their media and books and films and my friend and I, we loved every minute of it.”

There was a wistfulness in Barclay’s eyes, the sylph rubbing his nose again. “He always had a love for films and tv shows. I always loved the books and music. We’d make a challenge for ourselves whenever we would sneak over to try to bring something new back with us each time. It was fun and earth was so bright and interesting, and not just because it was forbidden. I loved it. It felt.. I dunno.. Right.”

“But I’m guessing your adventures to earth didn’t go unnoticed?”

“Yeah... eventually we were caught and going to earth is like... a huge taboo in our society. There’s a reason we get exiled here. They found all our human stuff and brought us before the council and... Both of us were going to be exiled, but I... Vince had a life ahead of him in a way that I didn’t, so I... took all of the blame. He was let off and I left Sylvain.”

Joseph rubbed his shoulder comfortably, his brows furrowed. “Do you know what happened to him?”

“I dunno. I assume life just went on and he got that position he was being prepped for. I adjusted to earth and decided to travel for a while. I made a lot of stupid mistakes, got seen a couple of times. I’m sure a couple of photos of me have crossed your desk at one point or another. But... I grew. I learned love and creativity and kindness not from sylphs, but from humans. I learned to play the guitar and cook. I saw the world. And at some point, the planet I’d left behind, with its harsh laws and broken friendships just.. wasn’t where I belonged anymore. I belong here, on earth, and then in Kepler at the lodge, and now here with you, Joseph.”

He turned to face his partner, taking the man’s hands carefully in his own. Joseph’s fingers were long and slender, an interesting contrast to his rough and calloused palms. He rubbed his thumb against the top of the man’s hand. 

“I miss my friends, I do. But.. I’m right where I need to be. For the first time in a while, I finally get to choose my own path without worrying about abominations or someone ruining everything for us by discovering the truth. I get to be with someone who’s made me happier than I’ve been in a very long time and I don’t regret that.”

“Barclay, I...” Joseph pressed his forehead to the sylph’s, squeezing his fingers. “That was beautifully put. I’m glad you’re with me too. I’m glad you love earth. I’m glad I can make all this a little easier and be here to support you. I want us to be able to talk like this and for you to feel comfortable being open with me. You deserve what you need to grow and be okay and I know I’m not perfect, but I want to give you everything I can. Now and in the future.”

“Oh, Jo. You already do.” Barclay wrapped his boyfriend in a warm hug, his heart feeling lighter than it had. “Just being here and listening and caring, that’s enough. It means more to me than you can even know.”

“I suppose no one ever said moving forward was going to be easy but... at the very least, we can do it together.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are NOT Space Orcs “First Contact”

So, I wanted to do something from the human’s perspective for once. This will have a part 2 from the aliens perspective to add a bit more humor to the whole thing. The idea was to show just how humans are scary and they totally don’t see it.

Don’t forget to send me your ideas, and as always I love comments questions critiques, and anything else you can think of :)

So, I may, or may not have been snooping through Krill’s reports while he’s returned home for, “mating season” sort of hope he meets a nice hot….. Whatever he is…. What makes you guys attracted to each other anyway…? Is it the size of the inflatable sack or something?

That’s beside the point though, I thought you all deserved something from a human perspective. Krill has this tendency to make us sound super freaky. I mean calling babies parasites is a bit much. He makes them sound like monsters who feed of a woman’s organs or something like that. I actually think babies are cute, and sure, we eat weird food, but none of us ever get actually HURT by it. The amount of poison in those foods aren’t enough to do anything to us, so it’s not a big deal.

As for me, it’s a little known fact that I was part of the human crew and team that made first contact with E.Ts (Extra-terrestrials). It was the maiden voyage of the USS Enterprise (yeah I know kind of nerdy, but we had to do it. Who makes their first interstellar ship and doesn’t name it the Enterprise, it would be sacrilegious). Personally I fancy myself a bit of a Kirk, and Krill could be Spock (Him being the voice of reason and all) you know if Spock had eight legs…. And emotions. Off topic, anyway, I was straight out of the academy had all my limbs and both eyes, and I was chosen as part of the bridge crew for our first voyage.

I was honestly surprised when the thing didn’t explode as soon as we went into warp, but we held together, and all of a sudden we are in an entirely different galaxy. It was more intense that I could have imagined. One of our infrared specialists detected hits of a heat signatures on a nearby asteroid, so of course we were going to check it out. I volunteered for the mission first, if anyone was going to see an alien, it was going to be me. So we suited up with a team, and sent a landing craft. Imagine our surprise when we sensed signs of life.

***

“Look at this, Captain, these structures, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Captain Kelly moved over to examine the pillar with the rest of the crew speaking quickly an excitedly.

First Lieutenant Vir ignored them wandering over to the other side of the room to kneel down on the polished stone floor. Through the armored space suit, and full-face glass visor, he examined the walls around him. He already knew what this was, aliens, he was sure.

He glanced down at his equipment glowing softly at him through the visor of the helmet …. Wait, that hadn’t been there before.

Atmospheric readings.

But they were in the middle of space….. There shouldn’t be atmosphere, and it was a pretty complex one to, sulfur, hydrogen oxygen, and carbon. Still not breathable in those percentages, but… damn.

He turned to get his captain’s attention, but just then, a small sound caught him through the microphone of his suit. A soft click, like a rock falling, he snapped his head in that direction, just in time to see a flicker of movement and a dash of metallic blue.

He threw his rifle over his back and bolted after the movement.

“LIEUTENANT.”

He ignored the voice and raced after the fleeing figure clambering off the small incline and onto a pathway. He scrambled from his hands and toes onto his feet and followed the creature at a dead sprint. The thing skidded around a corner. He followed slamming into the wall before shaking himself off and giving pursuit.

A moment of pure exhilaration added adrenaline to his run, and he spend closer letting off a gleeful laugh, there were aliens, he knew it, he knew it.

The creature took another hard fast turn, and he raced after it, catching only glimpses as the creature raced forward. It was about waist height, but ran on all fours. It had a tail and maybe…. Six limbs.

So cool.

He had to catch it.

A moment later the thing had bolted into a shaft. He followed looking up watching as the creature was carried up by a thick-fiber rope. Alright, he could do that.

Crawling into the shaft, Lieutenant Vir pressed either leg against the wall and began scuttling up after the thing. He was growing closer.

Through the visor of his helmet, he swore he could hear a high pitched keening note. Was that coming from the creature?

He was close now.

He could see it better, about five feet long all together, with six limbs and a tail. Reaching out, he snatched at the tail. The keening continued as the creature hurried it’s frantic pace upwards. Its body was covered in a thin hide like snake skin metallic blues and purples leading up to an almost raptor-like head.

He must be dreaming, there was no way this was happening. He scrambled from the shaft racing after the creature and quickly catching up, at the last moment, the thing took a sharp turn leading him into another wide room. It was made almost like an amphitheater starting with a small bowl and widening upwards towards the top. Thousands of dark black eyes blinked at him from those heights. Glowing substances cast the room into bright green luminance.

And then a circle of trailing water burst down from the ceiling crashing around him to the floor trailing away at the edges of the room. He stopped where he was in confusion and shock.

What the hell.

The creature he had been chasing collapsed near the far end of the chamber body rising and falling heavily.

He looked around at the water again, realizing awkwardly how this must look. He didn’t mean to scare the creature, and now that the thing had stopped running, it probably meant it thought it was safe…. How would water stop him though? Vir decided to stay where he was for the moment, maybe let them ease up.

He waved a hand at them through the trails of water.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m not going to hurt anyone. I just want to talk.”

The room around him shifted. He could see it through the visor of his helmet.

Hm…. Well it wasn’t really likely they could understand him, was it?

He paused shrugged, and stepped through the wall of water, shaking himself as he came out wiping droplets from his visor.

The room broke into pandemonium as the creatures freaked out. Water cannons went of splashing him from left to right with the substance. It wasn’t even enough to knock him off his feet, and he just stood there hands raised in front of his visor.

He had a feeling that if he had brought a super soaker to the party, than he would absolutely dominate.

Eventually the water ran out and he was still standing looking up at them with his arms crossed.

“Are you done?”

The room was very still.

Wiping his gloves on some of the glowing moss, he approached the first creature, curious. It pulled back against the wall still breathing heavily.

He glanced at his hands to make sure there were no water droplets left. It was probably allergic or something, maybe?

He reached out.

The creature pulled back

He tried to be gentle, running a gloved hand along its ridged back as it pulled away from him. He patted it a few more times. Wow, it felt weird.

That’s when Captain Kelly and the others burst into the room, “ADAM!” They held their weapons up brandishing them at the creatures high above.

“STOP.” Vir yelled, “STOP.”

They did, weapons still aimed.

“Damn Lieutenant, are you ok/”

He walked over, “I’m alright, I think I freaked them out a bit though.” He wasn’t expecting the open hand slap that clubbed him on the side of the helmet. And the other one as the captain backhanded and then forehanded him repeatedly, “You… absolute….. F******…. idiot….. You could have gotten yourself killed.”

It hit him only then what he had done.

Whoops

“Sorry, Captain, I guess I just got…. A little overenthusiastic “

She glared at him through the glass in her visor, “Deal with you, later. Idiot boy.”

He wilted and moved to the back of the group.

But secretly, inside he was thrilling with their discovery.

It must have been a dream, who would have thought he, and average kid from earth would have been the first to whiteness E.T life

****

I like to think I’ve grown up a bit since then. Not so dumb as to chase unknown lifeforms by myself in an unknown alien ship. For that I was NEARLY demoted, and suspended from active missions for over a year. The crew also made up an entire reward ceremony for the, and I quote “THE UNIVERSE’S BIGGEST IDIOT.” As far as I know, I think it’s still instituted in some areas of the glazy.

So you see, first contact story, no big deal, pretty innocuous if you ask me. Nothing to show that humans are scary or anything.

I honestly don’t know where all these weird rumors came from.

Humans aren’t scary.

[doubletriplepowerbomb]

Caveman

Roman Reigns x OC: highschool! AU

Request for anon

A/N: Oh lord hello. Okay I know I’ve been dead but I’m back and this is only chapter one! I promise it gets better after this. I tried a thing so bear with me please. Anyway. Enjoy chapter one of Caveman :)

Word count: 5050+

Warnings: angst and swears

Tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46 @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21 @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25 @xfirespritex @wefunloveruniverse @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Everyone had the same answer if you asked them to describe Roman Reigns. Athletic, but stupid. Popular, but alone. Girls thought he was hot, but they were scared of him. He’s a giant. A 6’3”, 200-something pound monster who plays football and lacrosse and is known to be extremely violent. They say he has no concept of other people’s pain. He’s dumb as a brick wall and doesn’t know his own strength. A mindless soldier, who’s getting into college on a sports scholarship.

But that’s what everyone said. I just had a really hard time believing it. Sure, I’ve seen him play football and lacrosse. I go to all the games, I take the pictures for the yearbook. But even if I didn’t have to go to all the games, I’d still go. I watch Roman play. He racks up a lot of penalties per game, but it’s because his coach only tells him to hit whoever gets in the way. And he hits hard. I just had a feeling that there was no way Roman could only be what everyone says he is.

I kept my distance from him though. I smiled in the hall and sent him the pictures of him that I took. I kept to myself though, I didn’t want to ever give up how madly in love with him I was. He didn't seem to be distracted by girls though. I would hear his father screaming at him from the sidelines, he would never allow Roman to have a girlfriend while he was in season. I wasn’t trying to be his girlfriend, I was just crushing on him. Hard. I had been since middle school.

And I was very good at keeping my distance these past few years. Until the first day of our senior year, he approached me in the hall. It was the first time I had seen real emotion in his grey eyes. I saw fear.

“Lindsey.” He began as I paused my music and pulled my headphones out. “I need your help.” I nodded for him to continue. I didn’t talk much, to anyone. “I need a tutor, bad. You have straight A’s right?” His voice was desperate.

“You want me to tutor you?” He nodded his head and put on a hopeful grin. It melted me right away and I said yes. I knew it was a bad idea, but he intrigued me. I’d learn more about him this way I guess.  

He explained to me that his low math grades would keep him out of his senior year football season. I nodded along but I didn’t really believe him. Mr. Ruiz was the athletic director at Lakeside High School and all he cared about was football and boys lacrosse. Both sports Roman played and had varsity spots in as a freshman. I didn’t believe that with such a biased program, anyone would ever tell Roman Reigns he couldn’t play. But I didn’t question him. I simply told him that I could tutor him during lunch or after school. He asked me this on a Wednesday and we worked out that we’d start next week.

I went into my study hall that day bubblier than I should’ve been on the first day of school. My best friend Baron was sitting at a desk in the back and I skipped over to him. Baron had been one of my best friends since we were little. He was my first friend in elementary school and we’ve stayed close through high school. We’re even going to prom together. Not because we like each other, but because we made a pact. We mutually hate almost everyone else in our grade so we’re gonna go together, as friends. But prom is in June and it’s September so that didn’t matter too much.

“You’re kidding right?” Baron said. His voice lacked the enthusiasm I thought he’d have for me. “You’re gonna tutor that caveman?”

I kinda just stared at him for a little. His words shocked me. Baron has always made fun of me for having a crush on Roman. He always found it funny that I would like someone so dumb. But despite the teasing, Baron was my best friend. And he knew that ever since 6th grade I’ve had a crush on Roman. After a long silence on my part, I spoke up. “Are you not happy for me?”

“Happy for you? Lindsey, I’m gonna start planning your funeral.” I didn’t respond. I just scrunched my nose. “He’s gonna get mad about math or something else he can’t understand and take it out on you. To him, everyone is just someone he can hit. Look I know you can hold your own, but you can’t against him.”

What the hell is he talking about? Is he really scared for my well being? I’m tutoring someone, not going into boxing. I didn’t argue with him. I didn’t want to get into a fight with my best friend over a boy I’m tutoring. So I agreed with him. I told him he was right and I told him that I’d tell Roman to find another tutor.

Except, I didn’t agree. And I didn’t tell Roman.

The rest of the week went by normally; ice breakers, class syllabuses, and basic assignments to get you into the swing of things. I blatantly lied to Baron though. He thinks I’m not tutoring Roman. Luckily, Baron doesn't have lunch when Roman and I do and I’ll just have to keep my composure in study hall.

Friday night came quickly and Lakeside had its first football game. Roman played but rumors went around the bleachers that he wasn’t supposed to. There were also rumors that he had a tutor so he’ll be able to play. Nobody knew that tutor was me, so everything was fine.

The weekend flew by quickly and I got a text from Roman after 3rd period on Monday. Can we study in the library today at lunch? I texted back yes and watched the clock as I got closer and closer to 6th period.

The bell signalling the end of 5th period finally rang and I practically jumped out of my seat. I get to spend a whole period alone… with Roman Reigns, the most gorgeous boy in school. Despite me wanting to sprint, I walked as slowly as I could to the library. I wanted him to get there first.

When I got there he was sitting at a back table in the corner, devouring a sandwich. I smiled and walked over to him. He looked up from his sandwich and smiled with a closed mouth. He waved me over and finished chewing before I sat down. “Hey, sorry about the library. I won’t be able to focus in the cafeteria. All the football guys are kinda on my ass about the whole tutor thing.” I think that was the most I’ve ever heard him speak. His voice was extremely quiet, despite screaming on the football field. I guess he was just shy in school because he wasn’t comfortable.

“It’s no problem, so, what are we doing?” I asked with a smile. I got the feeling that everyone who had spread and believed those rumors about him had never actually spoken to him.

“Uh, we’re graphing functions… I think.” I knew that’s what he was doing. I took pre-calculus last year when I was a junior. I saved all my notes and everything from that class. Roman pulled out his folder and opened to the notes he took. They were probably the worst notes I had ever seen. I didn’t want to change his whole system though so I got my notes out from last year and opened to the first section: graphing functions.

The 45 minute lunch period went by quickly, but Roman was able to semi-understand what happened in class today and get his homework done.

A week went by and nothing changed. During 6th period we’d sit alone together and I’d help him and that was the only interaction we ever had. I’d see him in the hallway and make eye contact with him but I never got anything from him. No smile, no nod, no acknowledgement. I didn’t really mind too much though. It's not like I was expecting a high school rom-com.

Okay… maybe I wanted that… but I knew it wasn’t gonna happen.

Roman had a quiz on Friday and if he failed it, he wouldn’t play in his game that night. That was the system Roman’s math teacher worked out with Mr. Ruiz. If he fails a test, he can’t play in the game that comes after it. It was an odd system but I didn’t want to put my nose where it didn’t belong, so I didn’t ask.

I waited with Roman in the hallway after his first math quiz, his teacher handed him his test with a frown. Originally, I thought the frown meant that Roman failed but when I looked at his grade I saw a 78. A 78 was a C, he passed. Why was the teacher frowning? And why did he look so pissed off when he handed Roman his test?

I quickly forgot about his teacher’s face when I felt Roman’s warm hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for helping me pass. I’ll see you at the game. We’re playing Shoreview. It’s gonna be a good game, you’ll get some good pictures.” His hand fell from my shoulder and his fingers brushed my arms, leaving goosebumps in their path. And with that, we went our separate ways.   

This week, the rumors about Roman and his tutor still swirled, except this time, I was included.

“I heard Lindsey is his tutor…”

“Nuh uh, she isn’t just his tutor…”

“He definitely fucks her…”     

“I’d fuck him…”

“I don't understand how she isn’t afraid of him…”

“I think he’s terrifying…”

“Everyone thinks he’s terrifying…”

“Lindsey doesn't…”

“I see them at the library every day during lunch…”

“I’ve seen them make out under the stairs…”

I rolled my eyes, everyone was so stupid. It was almost like they wanted me to hear them. But thank god Baron wasn’t at this game. He would’ve been pissed. And okay, I knew Baron was gonna find out eventually, but I just didn't want to tell him yet. I knew he’d get mad and I didn't feel like dealing with that.

This Friday’s game was great too. Roman played incredibly and it was pretty apparent that he was needed on the team. I was starting to see why he wanted a tutor so badly. I was also starting to see how much I was letting my “little crush” affect me. As I was going back through the pictures I took of that game all I could see was number 96. 80% of my pictures were of Roman. I felt so stupid. I was so caught up with watching him play I only took pictures of him. Obviously, other players were in them, but in most of them, he was centered.

I sent the photos out anyway, but I didn't send Roman every single one of the photos I took. I couldn't, there were too many.

The weekend flew by like usual and I was back in school. Monday morning was boring but after school got exciting. I heard the buzz in 4th period, apparently there was a fight in the hallway. One kid got his ass kicked and other got suspended. Roman was the kid who got suspended. I heard that the other kid was talking shit about him and he kicked his ass before getting pulled off of him by a gym teacher. Roman went straight to the principal’s office and got suspended for 3 days.

Almost exactly as the bell to end fourth period rang, I got a text from Roman. Hey Lindsey can we study at your house tonight? I got suspended. I wasn’t surprised, I had already heard the rumors. Yeah I heard, what happened? And yeah no problem. You can come at 6. My phone buzzed again with Roman’s explanation. This dumbass junior was talking shit. Kinda lost my temper I guess. I scoffed, yeah kinda.

I was walking to study hall and I saw Baron smiling to himself while going through his phone. “What are you all smiley about?” I asked once finally reaching his desk.

Baron looked up from his phone and smirked at me. “Your caveman got suspended today. He got into a fight with an underclassmen.” I rolled my eyes, why was he so happy that Roman got suspended? “Aren’t you glad you don’t tutor him? He could have beaten the shit out of you.” I didn’t argue, I just nodded my head. Telling Baron that I knew Roman would never hit me probably wouldn’t do anything positive for the situation, so I kept my mouth shut.

As the day dragged on, the rumors about Roman got worse. First, he beat up a junior for talking shit. Then it was a sophomore for being an asshole. But as people got increasingly more bored, the rumor made Roman look worse and worse. By the end of the day Roman had apparently beaten a freshman that got lost to a pulp. They said that the freshman got beaten so bad that the staff couldn't even recognize who he was. I rolled my eyes upon hearing all of these. Roman told me what happened, but I couldn’t argue anyone so I didn’t.

At 6:03, my doorbell rang. Something about this made my heart race. I don’t know why I cared so much about this. Roman Reigns is a complete dipshit. I had no idea why should I care about him but I did. Roman didn’t seem to be as eager as I was about this. I had a smile on my face when I opened the door, but seeing his stoic expression made my face straighten.

“Hey Roman.” My voice was light and happy. Roman’s voice was deep and monotonous. He did not sound happy to be here. “So what are we doing tonight?” I asked, leading him to the kitchen.

“I don’t know. pre-calc?” He sounded incredibly pissed off. Almost like if someone broke is pencil he’d flip his shit.

“Pre-calculus? Like everything we’ve done so far?” My voice dropped out when I saw his face. He was serious. He didn’t really understand pre-calculus.

“Yes. Lindsey.” I couldn’t help but stare at him, I couldn't believe how anyone could be so dumb, I’ve been tutoring him for two weeks now and he hasn’t retained anything. “What. You think it’s funny? I’ve had a tutor for weeks now and I’m still failing!”

“Well, Roman you have to try. You can’t expect to magically get good grades just because you have a tutor now.” I said sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Well that’s what happens with all the other guys.” Roman was mumbling. I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Huh?”

Roman rolled his eyes at me. How does she not know? “Every other guy on the team who needed a tutor picked someone who would do the work for them.” I creased my eyebrows. “C'mon you’re smart. How do you not know this?” His tone of voice was snappy.

“Well I figured you cared about your grades.” I was starting to see why he chose me. Did he think I would do it because I like him?

“I don’t give a shit about my grades, Lindsey. I wanna play football. And I can’t. I still can’t. Cause you haven’t helped.” Roman still hasn’t sat down.

“What is your definition of helping?” I asked, my voice raised.

“Do the work for me. Help me cheat. C’mon you got a crush on me don't you?” He seemed unphased. Like the words spilling from his mouth weren’t wrong.

“You’re kidding.” I said. I stood up and walked around the kitchen table. “You really think that I’m one of those spineless girls who will do favors for you because you’re an attractive football player? I could be doing anything else but I’m here trying to help you, not because I have a crush on you, but because I thought you needed help.” I was moving towards him as I spoke. He still didn’t seem phased. At all.

“This isn’t a favor for a friend. We aren’t friends, Roman. We’ve barely spoken before this year and you’re still a dick. You ask me for my help and I genuinely wanted to help you. Now you come to me saying ‘oh I’m too stupid to do this so can you?’ You have a person who understands the topic and is good at teaching it and you still can’t do jack shit.” I was now standing face-to-face (more like face-to-chest) with Roman. I tried my best to be assertive, but it was difficult. He stood 8 inches above me and he was a hell of a lot bigger. Roman’s broad shoulders, his dark hair and features paired with his size made him look intimidating. I tried to stay strong though.

Roman looked down at me with a smirk. “What are you gonna do? Not tutor me? There goes your extra credit.”

I laughed, I didn’t mean to laugh, but I did. “You seriously didn’t just say that. You really just threatened me? Try to use that brain of yours and tell me, do you really think I need that extra credit? Take your time now, I wouldn’t want you blowing a fuse up there.”

“You wouldn’t not tutor me.” He said smugly. He was so stupid.

“You’re sure?” I smiled sweetly. I could feel my blood boiling.

“Certain.” His smirk made me want to punch him in the face. Idiot. I pushed myself away from him and walked towards the door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not tutoring you. You’re a fucking idiot who doesn’t deserve my time.” I undid the top lock on the front door, not breaking eye contact with Roman.

“Without me, the school will barely have a team.” He was threatening me. Seriously.

“You think I give a shit about our school’s football team?” I opened the bottom lock. “You think I’ll be sad to see you fail? It’ll be great to see reality punch you in the face” I turned the doorknob. “You’re an egotistical douchebag and you don’t deserve me or my time at all!”

“You’re attracted to me.” He paced towards me. The smirk on his face was so hot and so fucking annoying at the same time. I hoped he couldn't tell how overwhelmed I was. 

“Don’t fucking flatter yourself, caveman. You ain’t shit.” God I prayed I wasn’t blushing. I would die if he knew. He’s a complete douchebag and the single most vain, egotistical, stubborn... muscular, gorgeous, convincing, hypnotizing, perfect… what the fuck? Where am I? He noticed I was trailing off, he got closer, he smelled wonderful. “Ugh Roman get out!” I pressed my hands to his chest and shoved as I yelled. Holy shit he was muscular. Ugh, Lindsey, pull yourself together!

I slammed the door on him and pressed my back against the closed door. I felt something sinking in my gut. I was feeling disappointment. I don’t know maybe I just hoped- I hoped. I’m just as much of an idiot as he is.

A week passed. I haven’t spoken to or even seen Roman since that night. He failed his math quiz on Wednesday and he sat the bench during that Friday night’s football game. The rumors swirled around the bleachers.

“I heard he cheated on her…”

“I heard she flipped on him for no reason…”

“That’s what I heard…”

“I heard he hit her...”

“I heard she got a restraining order…”

I didn’t answer to anyone’s whispers. I was too busy looking at Roman on the bench. I saw his face, he looked miserable. I felt guilty but I quickly shook it off. He chose me because he thought I was a stupid girl with a crush who would do his work for him. He deserves to be on the bench. Unsurprisingly, Lakeside didn’t win that game. Our QB got sacked multiple times and we just didn't have the intensity and strength that we needed. It probably would've been different if Roman was playing. He knew it. The team knew it. Everyone knew it.

We made eye contact after the game. He looked sorry but I didn’t care. I looked at him with a smirk and shrugged my shoulders. I saw his face get angry. He walked away from the bench and walked quickly towards me.

He shoved through the remaining cheerleaders and stood at the fence.

I spoke before he could. “How was the bench, caveman?” I asked raising my eyebrows.

“Fuck you.” He said. His voice was loud, not many people were left. Most of the students left before the game ended.

I had an evil smirk on my face. “Geez, I was just asking a question.” I put my hands up in defense. I turned away from him and began walking to the parking lot. I didn’t have any car to go to, I just wanted to walk away.

“Lindsey!” His voice was even louder than before. I turned around to see him jogging towards me, he was fuming.

“What’s up, Roman? Was the wording of my question too hard for you to understand?” My voice dripping with sarcasm and fake concern.

“You’re a pretentious cunt, you know that.” His tone was icy and his words seemed to bite me. “A fucking bitch with a stick so far up her ass-” his words cut off as my hand slapped him across the cheek.

What nerve he had saying that shit to me? He used me and I’m the cunt? Dickhead. I didn’t know what was going through my head other than that I hated him. My face was furious and I drew my hand backwards. I felt absolutely no control in my body and I slapped him. Hard. Everything happened so fast and I had no clue what I was doing until it was too late.

My eyes widened and I slapped my hand over my mouth. His head barely moved, he just stared into my soul with cold, grey eyes. I lost my angry demeanor and felt fear rise from my gut.

“Roman.” I didn’t even know what to say. Despite what everyone said, in the two weeks I tutored him I had never once thought he was going to hurt me. But in this moment, I was convinced he was gonna beat the shit out of me.

I saw him smile and lick his lips. I backed up until I felt my back hit a wall. Roman put his large hands on both sides of me. He leaned more of his weight on his arms, his eyes still looked dead and I was getting increasingly more scared.

I closed my eyes and braced myself against the wall. I wasn’t expecting a punch or kick or anything but I was expecting to get hurt. Except I didn’t feel anything, maybe I was already dead. I peaked out of a half closed eye after a few long seconds then opened both my eyes completely, Roman was gone. I saw him trudging across the turf.

Roman realized what he was doing before his hand made contact with me. I didn’t notice him sigh and drop his hands to his sides before turning and walking up to the locker room. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. Dude, what the fuck? I almost hit her! She’s a girl and I almost hit her! She gives up her time for my sorry ass and I called her a cunt. I deserved that fucking slap. Fuck. He was also beginning to figure out that he was gonna need a tutor still, and that I was one of the few people willing to tutor him.

I turned to the parking lot and noticed Baron’s car in the lot. Oh shit. As I walked closer I noticed he was standing outside the door. “Lindsey what the fuck was that?” He was not happy.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“I wanted to make sure you had a ride home. Now answer me, what the hell was that. Why was Roman about to kill you?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” I said. My answer seemed to piss Baron off.

“What the hell does that mean?” He snapped. I wasn’t expecting him to snap at me.

“I don’t know. I literally thought he was gonna hit me, but he walked away.”

“No Lindsey I saw that. I saw everything. Why was he there. Why are you even talking to him?” He was asking but I had a feeling that he knew.

“Well, I might be tutoring him.” I said quickly and quietly. Baron stopped short and I smacked my nose on my knee. “Ow Baron, what the fuck.”

“You’re tutoring him?!” Baron yelled. “Even after what I said!” My mind raced and my heart was still pounding after being convinced I was gonna get beaten by Roman Reigns. It was definitely not pounding because he was so close. That's totally not it.

Okay… maybe that was a part of it. But just a part.

Baron didn’t talk to me the rest of the way home and he didn't come inside when he dropped me off. He told me he didn’t want to see me tonight then drove off.

A few minutes later, I heard a knock at the front door. I figured it was Baron but then I realized that Baron doesn’t knock anymore. I got up from my spot on the couch and opened the door.

Dude. Leave. This is so weird. She probably isn't even home. No. I can’t sit out of another game. This was the worst night of my life.

I felt my stomach flip when I saw him in the doorway. He was still wearing jersey but instead of his football pants he was wearing sweatpants. His long black hair was pulled to the back of his head into a bun. His hair wasn’t as perfect as usual, it seemed like he did it in a rush. God, Lindsey, shut up about his hair. 

“What the hell do you want?” I asked. A part of me was happy to see him. A part of me was always happy to see him.

“I wanted to say sorry.” Roman’s voice was quiet and he sounded sincere. But I couldn’t believe him. I wanted to. But I couldn’t.

“Funny.” I said before closing the door. Roman’s hand against the door thudded loudly and he was beyond strong enough to hold it open.

“Gimme a week.” Roman said quickly. “A week… you tutor me and I’ll try and if I don’t get above a C on my tests you don’t ever have to deal with me again. I’ll leave you alone forever.”

I pursed my lips. I knew I was going to agree to his terms. But I didn't want to.

“Please, Lindsey. I know I was an asshole but I didn't pick you because I thought you had a crush on me, I swear. I picked you because you’re nice. I’m an idiot, everyone knows it. People are scared of me, but you aren’t…” he noticed I was trying to close the door again. “Please.” his voice raised and his tone got increasingly more desperate. “I can’t sit out of anymore games. I know you don't care but I really need to play. I wont get into college if I don't. I’ll try to do work I promise.”

Honestly I was gonna let him in a few sentences into his apology, but I wanted to hear what he was gonna say. I groaned and stood aside, letting him walk inside. Relief overtook Roman’s face and his features softened as he walked inside. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t said yes yet. I know what you just said, but you expected me to do all your work. I’m not gonna do that. I’m not an idiot with a crush. I’m not gonna do all your shit. You’re gonna try. And you’re also gonna explain what kind of system you have going right now cause it doesn't make sense. What did you work out with your teacher and Mr. Ruiz about you playing?” I didn't care about being nosy anymore. He pissed me off and I was gonna do whatever I wanted.

“Oh. Well, last year I had the same teacher, Mr Barnes. He hated me last year too. I didn't do any work and I failed a lot of my tests. He was pissed because our school doesn't really enforce the whole “low gpa-no sports” rule, especially with Mr. Ruiz. So this year, on the first day of school, Mr Barnes held me after class and told me that if I don't start doing better in his class I won’t be able to play. I didn't believe him at first but then Mr. Ruiz came in. He looked at me like he was sorry for me, like he thought he disappointed me or something. He explained everything, he’d lose his job if he didn’t enforce the rule, so they compromised. I have to start passing my tests, and if I don’t, I don't play.”

I looked around my living room and I hated myself for thinking the way I was. Everything was normal except for the gorgeous boy on my couch and I felt bad for him. It was Roman’s senior year and football really was his only way into college. I also had the biggest crush on him. I know. I know. I said I wasn’t a “spineless girl who would do favors for an attractive football player” but I kinda was. I didn't want to be. But I couldn't help it. “Fine. I’ll help you. But I’m serious, if I notice you're not trying or I find out you cheated, I’m not tutoring you. I will not do your work and you will not take me for granted. Deal?”

I couldn’t describe Roman’s expression, other than it being the cutest thing I had ever seen. I tried not to melt as he nodded at me. He was staring at me attentively with a grin on his face. I hated myself for giving in so easily. I hated myself for being so pathetic.

He picked me to tutor him because he thought I had a crush on him and I would do his work for him. He called me a cunt. But he came to my house and apologized and I melted at his feet. Ugh. 

I hated Roman Reigns. That caveman is gonna be be the death of me. I swear it.

A/N: okay I know it seems one sided right now but in chapter 2 someone else catches some feelings ;)))

part 2

[pangtasias-atelier]

The New King & New Tactician

Here's a super fucking indulgent fic for a ship that I'm the only supporter for. This took like an hour I wanna say which is pretty good cause I really enjoyed this one.

_____________

Soren scoffs at the once again mixed reaction from the laguz. "The masses are too dumb to understand," Soren bitterly thinks. Slinking away from the balcony, Soren removes himself from the exposure of Gallia's harsh rays of sunlight. The castle providing a modicum of coolness, Soren sighs as he pushes his hair back, some sweat desperately and bothersomely clinging to his neck. Wiping it away with disgust, Soren walks back to his room. Head held up high, Soren relishes the distance the castle staff give him. "They must hate a branded having a better position than them," Soren gloats in his head.

The cool winds slightly flowing throughout the castle from the various windows barely serve as any relief to the sticky tactician. At his door, Soren groans in annoyance, head tilted slightly back as he hears stomping headed his way.

"Soren!" Like a child, Skrimir rushes his way towards Soren; the few staff in his way swiftly move out of it, the massive lion would near flatten them otherwise.

Turning around, Soren outstretches his right hand palm out at Skrimir. Skrimir brings himself to an immediate stop, his muscular chest mere centimeters away from Soren's hand.

"Personal space Skrimir." Rubbing his forehead, Soren ruefully thinks about the oncoming headache.

"The speech went wonderful!" Ignoring all sorts of personal space, the laguz having few needs of such a thing, Skrimir embraces Soren.

"Skrimir!" Soren shouts. His whole body trapped from Skrimir's rippling arms, Soren can only complain. His shouts worsen when he feels his feet lose contact with the ground. Being spun around in a circle is no way to improve Soren's mood but Skrimir does it anyways.

"They loved it!" Skrimir exclaims as he puts Soren down.

Light-headed, Soren drowns out the rest of whatever Skrimir blabbers on about.

A light red tint, a for sure side effect of the wretched heat, Soren sighs as he feels the warmth gone? "I'm having a heatstroke." Soren feels as he finds himself actually missing Skrimir's embrace. He may have had practically zero physical contact, in part from his reluctance to even being approached after his awful childhood. But feeling it now, was welcoming. "No, anything but this brute!" Soren brain yells at him.

Soren mentally screams when he feels Skrimir's hand on his forehead.

"You don't have a fever, do you?" Skrimir asks as he hunches over to stare at Soren's eyes.

"Don't touch me." Soren removes Skrimir's hand.

Standing back up, clearly upset. Skrimir glowers at Soren.

"Hmmph." Is all Skrimir says as he leaves.

Ignoring the angry, confused, and curious stares aimed at him, Soren enters his room.

Compared to all his prior rooms combined, they all still pale in size and opulence to his current room. Soren had wanted nothing of the sort, but Skrimir had forcefully insisted, claiming his new right hand man deserved it.

Gallia may be inept in magic, and anything fire related was viewed with such taboo to the point that even Soren abondaned his fire tomes. Well, most of them. Soren still has some hidden in his room and occasionally carries one in case anyone would threaten him. He learned first hand. A general angered by his station had threatened him and it was Skrimir who fought for him.

"And it keeps going back to that idiot." Soren slams his desk, the rich oak not even budging. Thinking about how warm and nice Skrimir felt, Soren nearly tugs his hair out as he heads to his shelf. Uncharacteristically tossing books in his scramble to find what he wants, no needs. Soren breathes in and out of his nose as he finds it.

"I just to overload my senses. That's it. Then I'll be over that barbarian." Flipping the page to it's desired spell, Soren recites it. Air becoming distorted as it swirls about the room, it swishes out the window the instant Soren finishes his incantation.

The magical spell a pale slivery glimmer trail in the wind, it travels to its intended target. Fluidly traveling the outside of the castle, it reaches Skrimir's window.

A grumpy Skrimir pouting as he crosses his arms across his chest. The magic unnoticed by Skrimir, it travels into him, Skrimir breathing it in.

-----

Never one to be with nature, Soren randomly ends up reading in one of Gallia's numerous forests. Right beside his room, the forest offers a lake, the clear waters unlike the beorc's polluted ones. Legs stretch out forward as he leans against a tree facing towards the lake, the reading is relaxed.

Away from the numerous laguz enviously eyeing him, Soren finds the moment enjoyable. Enjoyable until leaves crunch as someone approaches.

Not bothering to turn around, already knowing it's Skrimir by the heavy footsteps, much heavier footsteps, Soren continues facing the lake.

"Soren! Finally caught up." Skrimir wheezes as he catches his breath. The lake is the furthest thing from remote.

"Took you long enough." Closing his book, page left with a bookmark, Soren looks out at the lake.

Clearing his throat, Skrimir stands up straight, his chest puffed out. "If I transformed that would've been cheating."

Soren freezes when Skrimir drops down right next to him. Breathing loudly, Soren would love to complain, but something about it puts him at ease. Ashunera help him, he was enjoying this. And he was praying to Ashunera. This Gallian heat had to be the cause of this.

"But you won." Skrimir relents, his breath still not evened out.

"I know." Soren remarks. Testing his luck, Soren turns to face Skrimir.

Face significantly fatter, Skrimir's cheeks puff out as he breathes. Everything puffs out as he breathes. Stomach resting in his lap, the fat belly quivers from every little jostle and turn Skrimir does to sit comfortably.

Soren regrets looking immediately. He's the cause for this but seeing Skrimir like this was pleasant? Skrimir just feels so warm. Much more than before. But not warm enough he thinks. Getting rid of that train of thought, Soren shakes his head. Clearing his throat, Soren stands up. "I'm heading back," he announces, feet already in motion as he does.

"I'll be there..." Skrimir breathes out.

Soren can hear Skrimir's groans as he stands back up. He speeds up when he hears a tear.

-----

"So warm," Soren breathes out as he presses into Skrimir's stomach.

"I've officially gone insane," his brain lets him know as he rubs the massive King of Gallia.

Sprawled out on his back, Skrimir can only barely move his arms and legs as he tries to move around. Pinned under the growing mass known as his stomach, Skrimir is immobile. Even if he Soren were kind enough to help him up, Skrimir would be unable to walk. Even his muscular legs wouldn't be able to support his blob of a body.

Skrimir moans as Soren continues rubbing him all over. He never imagined his tactician was into such debaucherous pleasures, nor himself as well, but here they were, both enjoying it.

Tanned skin stretched out farther than he ever thought conceivable Skrimir can no longer even see how he looks. The only thing visible in sight being his gargantuan stomach and Soren who seemed nearly attached to it.

Soren plays with it's heft, lifting it as high as he can, which is admittedly barely a couple inches the massive weight of it and his already subpar strength not helping, he drops the stomach back down to see how much it moves. How much Skrimir moves.

Larger than his bed, the Gallian king now made for a splendid king sized bed. Skrimir made for a better one. His breasts were larger than people's heads, the deposits of fat growing each day. His arms rival even the average tiger laguz' waist, the weight fat filled appendages now mostly for show. Skrimir's thighs curved and folded over themselves, the piles upon piles of fat seeking for somewhere to stay. Skrimir's back was a beach, his back rolls akin to the curving and uneven piling of sand. His ass sprouted two globular cheeks, each of them now requiring at least two seats each. All of Skrimir was just massive for a lack of better words. And everyone who ever saw Skrimir indeed lacked any words to communicate.

He was so unmeasurably fat, that all the laguz feared fighting for title of king once Soren spread rumors of Skrimir eating his opponents. And besides, Soren's planning with Gallia remaining relatively untouched from both wars alongside the people's love for Skrimir made for a good reign.

No one understood how Skrimir could ever himself get so fat, not even Soren and Skrimir himself.

A knock alerts the both of them that Skrimir's next meal was here. It had only been a thirty minute respite for Skrimir's digesting body. He could barely go an hour without feeling as if he was starving now.

With a shyness that Soren's last self would kill him, he stands back on his feet. "I'll get it," he murmurs.

Gallia's heat no longer bothers Soren when he has his own personal kingly heater now, the warmth from it one he's never felt before.

[haruki-ya]

This is Joy, This is Summer

A/N: So. I’ve come here today to dedicate my first work of 2019 to the lovely @hyoriitai who once upon a time submitted a prompt to my inbox that they most likely figured I forgot about...because I kind of did lmao. BUT lo and behold, very belatedly, I’ve loosely filled that prompt you submitted! Thank you for your patience hyoriitai, happy year of Akira, and enjoy! :) 

Summary: Kaneda ropes the boys into a mid summer trip to the Old City, where behind closed doors, not everything is what it seems.

“Come on Tetsuo, hurry up! Why are you always so damn slow?” Yamagata laughs at Kaneda’s comment, but Tetsuo scowls and pictures himself kicking Kaneda in place of the rock by his foot. Kai shoots him a sympathetic smile over his shoulder, a nod to their short legged solidarity he supposes.

“This ghost town isn’t going anywhere! Why don’t you slow down?” Tetsuo yells back, but doesn’t really expect an answer. Doesn’t really expect to be heard. He doesn’t know why he agreed to come here.

It’s roughly three in the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and draws sweat from their skin like a magnet. They parked their bikes about a mile back, where the road grew too rocky and uneven for them to risk riding down.

They don’t find roads like that in Neo Tokyo, don’t know what to expect. They may be risk takers, thrill seekers, but they’re sensible at the very least. Indulge in safety when they have the chance, especially when it affects the integrity of their already scrappy bikes.

The Old City is something else entirely foreign to their rugged way of life anyway. A step above and beyond their norm of unpredictably dangerous.

Kaneda approached him yesterday with a wide smile and a proposition, nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. He wanted to know if Tetsuo would ride with him, Yama and Kai to the Old City and look for scrap metal they could cash out on.

Tetsuo, being rational, said no right off the bat, if not just to see how desperate Kaneda was for his cooperation. They bantered back and forth for a while about dumb shit, talked themselves into a circle, before Tetsuo finally relented to Kaneda’s overbearing persistence.

Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary.

They’ve been walking for what feels like hours in this heat. It’s the middle of summer and they really have nothing better to do, any of them, so Tetsuo guesses that’s why he agreed to come along. Not because Kaneda asked him to, pretty please with a cherry on top, or because he bribed him with hand rolled spliffs either.

Tetsuo isn’t that easy. He’s just unbelievably bored.

He keeps his mind from wandering too far by kicking stray rocks on the path. Yamagata and Kaneda are talking loudly about something dumb probably and Kai pipes in every once in awhile with some thoughtful tidbit of information that Kaneda and Yamagata both don’t care to hear, seeing as they talk over him like he’s not there. It’s just like any other day really, just hotter and more bothersome.

Where is the spot Kaneda was talking about?  

Tetsuo sighs and fishes for a joint in his pocket, wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. They’ve been passing collapsed building after building, run down shop after shop, rusty car after car, marching along steadfast to the tune of some overconfident dumbass who probably doesn’t even know where he’s going.

What’s new.

Tetsuo bets Kaneda heard about the scrap metal from Nanahara, who has a tendency to lie out his ass like his life depends on it. Kaneda knows this, but isn’t able to resist the possibility of making money, even if it’s a gamble.

There’s probably no scrap metal, the buildings were most likely stripped clean ages ago when the rumor of radiation died down and so did the speculation of mutated freaks inhabiting the Old City. This trip was probably just a waste of gas, and Tetsuo sparks up, inhales deeply and kicks a rock harshly in frustration right as Kaneda yells something incomprehensible from the front of their ragtag marching line.

“What?” Tetsuo says and not a second later Kai echoes his sentiment as Kaneda dashes over towards a small, quaint, faded yellow motel front with a busted in door and broken in windows. Yamagata follows leisurely behind and Kai perks up ahead of him to run after Kaneda.

Tetsuo is confused, and takes another long pull from his smoke as he slowly follows behind.

Crossing the threshold causes a shiver to break out over Tetsuo’s body. The temperature in the old motel is degrees cooler than outside. Kaneda, Kai, and Yamagata have already ventured deeper into the building. Tetsuo can hear their muffled exclamations and laughs, but he lingers back to examine the lobby in silence.

The air is musty and smells stale, another true testament to the age and condition of this ghost town. Through collapsed holes in the roof, sunshine beams down in scattered rays and thousands of air mites swim and dance in their light. Tetsuo wrinkles his nose and drowns whatever shit particles are floating in the air with an exhale of smoke. Kicks a stray piece of roof debris into what must have been the front desk.

Two sets of matching green arm chairs, bleached spotty by what little sun finds its way inside, sit more or less facing each other, arranged near the windows for guest seating. Broken rounded coffee tables cut between the seats and aside one of them, Tetsuo spots a magazine or two peeking out from underneath years of piled debris and dust. He moves around a rusty felled lamp and picks one up out of curiosity.

The pages are stiff but flimsy, similar to comic book pages. Nothing like the waxy laminate shine of the familiar skin mags and shonen jump. Tetsuo gives the book a shake, careful not to jostle the loose spine too much, and flips to the cover. Gently wipes a thick layer of dust from the title page with his palm.

“Huh...” The title is familiar. He’s seen this before. Shukan Shincho. Tetsuo’s old foster uncle used to read these to his gran. Tried to get Tetsuo interested in his collection. Of course, Tetsuo didn’t give a damn.

He flips to the inside page and tries to find a publication date, just out of curiosity...1992. Shit, that’s a relic. This book has been laying abandoned and untouched for four decades...this building, for even longer he bets. Tetsuo blows smoke out his nose and tucks the frail magazine into his jacket pocket. A little piece of the past for him to savor later.

There are broken pictures still half hung on the peeling wallpaper or shattered in pieces on the floor. One in particular catches his eye, sitting mostly upright and untouched behind the darkness of the front desk.

It’s a black and white picture of the motel front, fresh and pristine looking most likely for a grand opening. A family, father, mother, son, daughter, stand proudly underneath the sign displaying the name “Miyako Hotel”. Tetsuo squints his eyes to read the autograph in the corner.

“Grand opening...1972.” Tetsuo can’t hold in the breath of wonder that escapes him, nor the cloud of smoke. This place...how is it still standing? How are any of these buildings still here? Maybe Nanahara knew what he was talking about with this place, with the potential to cash out. Maybe this wasn’t for nothin’ after all.

“Tetsuo.”

Lost in his thoughts, Tetsuo didn’t notice Kaneda sneak up behind him. He damn near jumps out of his skin at the sound of his name whispered in his ear, of the breath that ghosts over the back of his neck. Tetsuo jerks around to find Kaneda impishly smiling at him, hands in the air, sweaty hair matted to his forehead.

Trying to act innocent, but that’s never been a good look for him. Dumbass, however, has always suited him perfectly.

“God, you asshole !” Kaneda simply laughs in response and plucks the half smoked spliff from between Tetsuo’s pointing fingers.

“God? Most definitely. Asshole? Eh….more or less.” Tetsuo rolls his eyes and wonders to himself for the billionth time why he’s friends with this childish moron. Kaneda suddenly blows a cloud of smoke in Tetsuo’s face, and the thought only intensifies.

“I’ve been callin’ your name forever Tets, thought maybe you’d fallen down a hole or something!” Tetsuo scowls and brushes past Kaneda, bumping intentionally into his shoulder. His silence was nice while it lasted.

“I wish.” Kaneda, not bothered by his sour tone, strides around him and blocks Tetsuo’s way further into the motel. Braces his arms against a splintered, swollen door frame and leans towards Tetsuo’s scowl with a smile split open around the butt of their smoke. He reeks of sweat and his face is flushed heavily with exertion, quite likely a sunburn too.

“Awe, come’on, don’t say that! The only way to go down a hole is by being pushed.” Tetsuo crosses his arms at that and makes a face.

“What kind of dumb shit are you on?” Kaneda must find his response funny because he snickers, effectively letting the snub of their shared spliff fall, dead, between them. Tetsuo is the first to step on it, grind it into dust with his heel so it doesn’t catch them on fire. Kaneda’s eyes have that bright gleam to them again. Maybe Tetsuo didn’t put it out quick enough.

“Come on, check this out. I found what I was looking for.” Before Tetsuo can question the secular ‘I’, Kaneda has his wrist in hand and is yanking him along the length of the hallway. Tetsuo manages to catch glimpses of a few of Miyako Motel’s finest rooms on the way, a kaleidoscope of moldy, peeling wallpapers, broken, collapsed beds, tattered curtains and upholstery. This place is surprisingly well kept, considering it’s older than the four of them combined. Tetsuo idly wonders what happened to the family that ran it....if Kaneda is about to show him a decrepit pit of skeletons.

Kaneda is in fact not going to show him a decrepit pit of skeletons. He comes to a halt quickly in front of a closed door, numbered room 26, and causes Tetsuo to run right into his back.

“Here we are!” They’re at the end of the hallway, but it stretches left and right a few more rooms each way. He can hear Yamagata and Kai talking excitedly behind the door. Their voices seem to carry further than normal, as if they’re not in a room confined by four walls, give or take.

Interesting.

Tetsuo cranes his neck around Kaneda’s shoulder, chest to back, curious but hesitant. Unwilling to make the first move to investigate further. Kaneda turns to watch his expression shift, a wide grin set on his face. Tetsuo can feel Kaneda’s breath on his cheek as he leans forward to push open the door.

Immediately he is blinded by the sunlight. Tetsuo hadn’t noticed how quickly his eyes adjusted to the dark of the motel until he was thrown out of it and into a wide open space behind a closed door. It takes him a minute to get his bearings, and Tetsuo feels Kaneda’s arm brush softly against his as he moves past him towards Yama and Kai.

“Dude this place is awesome! How did Nanahara even find it?”

“Get this, he told me his ex-girlfriends sister took him here once...when he was still dating Ichiko.”

“God, that guy sure is a fuckin’ tool.”

The three of them dissolve into raucous laughter and Tetsuo finally opens his eyes. The sight that greets him is, well….not what he expected.

There is no room 26. The old, abandoned motel layout Tetsuo was expecting, simply isn’t there. There aren’t four walls, give or take. There are no walls. The floor is gone. The ceiling, gone. Nothing left but an imperfectly round cookie cutter hole in the ground, an open courtyard made of back alleys and bisected buildings that have collapsed below ground level into a crater roughly six feet below the foundation where they stand. From the floor that used to belong to room 26.

It’s like some benevolent God punched a giant hole right through the buildings and deep into the ground from the heavens above. 

“Woah.” Tetsuo manages, and Kai appears in his line of sight suddenly. But he’s on the opposite side of the crater, hugging the jagged, exposed wall structure of an adjacent building that is distinctly different than the one story motel they entered.

The crater, which is really more a sinkhole than anything, is about thirty-five feet wide all around, cutting almost completely into what would have been another picture perfect motel room, and what appears to be the back end of a three story office building. The sinkhole is filled with crystal clear water and a bobbing layer of small green plants that cling to the rough edges of exposed earth. Tetsuo can make out a few shapes at the bottom, distorted by the ripples in the water. He thinks he sees a bed frame...a vague impression of a dresser.

“No way…”

The sinkhole starts about five feet from the door to room 26, a sheer drop off from the edge of the floor where Tetsuo stands. It’s much deeper than he would expect. From the six foot drop to the water, maybe another twenty or thirty to the bottom. Tetsuo really doesn’t know. Hasn’t seen anything like this before.

It’s absolutely surreal. A fresh swim hole in the middle of the most rotten, run down part of town. Literally. The water at the community pool doesn’t even look that clear.

This is obviously what Kaneda had in mind the whole time, what he dragged them out on the hottest summer day for. There was never any scrap metal, or never any of real importance to Kaneda in the face of a war made swim hole. Tetsuo isn’t even mad about it, really. He’ll just make Kaneda reimburse him for gas money when they get back into town.

“Oh man, do you see those plants? Do you know what those are?!” Kai’s voice is loud with excitement and Tetsuo looks over to him from across the gap. He looks even smaller over there, hanging onto an exposed cluster of electrical wire for stability as he leans out over the pit.

“Yeah, hard not to. They’re everywhere.” Yamagata’s voice calls somewhere off to his left, and when Tetsuo turns to follow his voice he sees him sliding onto the hood of a rusted out shell of a car. It sits sandwiched between what Tetsuo assumes is the back wall of a neighboring room of the Miyako Motel and the office building.

“I think…I think they’re duckweed! I could be wrong, but I know they-” Kaneda cuts him off casually, his voice almost making Tetsuo jump again as it calls out from behind him.

“Wait, did you just say dickweed?”

“No, duck-”

“Was that a fuck?”

“No, you dick!”

“So fuckweed?”

“Yes, fuckweed! Wait -” Kaneda and Yamagata’s laughter echoes around the open space in harmony, a good sound to hear in fours. Kai manages a laugh or two himself, despite his eye roll being painfully evident to Tetsuo from across the way, and he can’t quite fight the grin on his face. This sure as hell beats being bored out of his mind, even if Kaneda’s pestering to come along shortened his lifespan by a year.

“What’s so important about duckweed?” Tetsuo calls the question out to Kai as he turns his gaze upward, curious as to where the large portion of broken building got off too.

While the floor of the motel collapsed inwards, the roof, walls, and floor of the office building adjacent aren’t scattered around the edges of the sinkhole. They don’t even seem to be inside it, either. That amount of rubble would have covered the furniture from the motel room and there’s no buildup of debris on the bottom anyway. It’s as if it was all swept away with the wind, blown away in a tornado or something...odd.

“Duckweed is an oxygenating pond plant. It’s real common in Koi ponds. I’m surprised it managed to survive out here in the middle of no man’s land.”

Could the debris have been blown away to the side by the initial force of the explosion? Maybe into the narrow alleyway in between the two buildings? Tetsuo carefully moves to the right and sticks his head around the jagged building edge. There is debris cluttering the space all the way out to the mouth of the alley, where Tetsuo can faintly see the road, but it’s residual from the motel itself. Distinctive by the faded yellow paint. To the left, behind the car Yamagata is now sunbathing on, there’s not much Tetsuo can see.

Weird.

“Oxygenating...what does that mean?” Kaneda’s voice is sheepish, quieter than before, still sounding somewhere from behind Tetsuo. Always hesitant to admit he doesn’t know the answer

“In simplest terms, it puts oxygen into the water through the nutrients it absorbs from the water. Like, how we breathe in oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide. It’s a natural filter of sorts to-”

“Yeah, ok, heard ya’ loud and clear Professor Kaisuke! I’ll be handin’ in my essay by the end of the week!” Kaneda’s comment makes them all fall into laughter once more. Tetsuo’s interest in the whereabouts of the office building vanish into thin air, replaced with a sudden, overwhelming thirst. It’s still too damn hot, and they’re under the sun’s rays full force again.

They should have brought more water.

“So that makes the water, like, swimmable, righ?” Kaneda boldly asks the question on all their minds.

“I mean, uh, not necessarily-”

“If it filters the water and it puts oxygen in there too, that sounds pretty damn swimmable to me!” As Tetsuo edges more toward the center of room 26’s partially collapsed floor, he sees Kaneda throw a piece of debris into the hole and watch the ripples spread out through the water, cause the duckweed to bob on its surface.

“I mean, yes, but there could be certain contaminants and pollutants that the plants can’t filter out….we don’t know how long the water has been there for, if it’s mutated acid water, if it’s mutated acid rain water...”

“Did Nanahara say he went swimming here?” Yamagata calls from his perch on the rusted car. He’s sitting up now, taking interest in the topic. Tetsuo sees him shake sweat from his head.

“Eh, well, not exactly...does skinny dipping count?” Kai, too, throws a piece of rubble into the hole and pulls an observant face as the resounding splash echoes satisfyingly. He seems to be testing the strength of the electrical wires in his grasp, leaning more precariously towards the face of the hole. Tetsuo unwraps his jacket from around his waist, and throws it toward the door

“Of course it does. If they walked away from that alive and with no third eyes or nipples, it’s fine.” Kanada barks out a laugh at Yamagata's comment and starts to unbuckle his boots, tossing one, two, right on top of Tetsuo’s jacket. He doesn’t bother acknowledging Tetsuo’s annoyed scowl.

“Why a third nipple as example?” Kai asks curiously.

“I don’t know, my uncle has three nipples. It’s pretty freaky.”

“Oh...cool.” Kaneda interjects with a clap, rallying the troops attention with his boisterous voice.

“Ok, so, there’s only one way to actually find out if this water is gonna kill us!...And that’s to jump in and see.” Silence falls at the suggestion. Tetsuo sees Kai glance at Yamagata, Yama glance at Kai, Kaneda glance between the two of them, before finally turning towards Tetsuo with a smile.

“...You first Kaneda.” Is of course Tetsuo’s natural response.

“Mh, yeah no, I’m good, got a lot to live for, still haven’t met the love of my life, I gotta hold out for her you know?” Tetsuo sighs and shifts on his feet, crosses his arms. Highly unlikely.

“If I die my mom would kill me...she would bring my ass back to life and then kill me again for dying. I’m good.” Kai sucks air in through his teeth loudly and makes a sound of confirmation at Yama’s comment.

“I have bills to pay.” Is what Kai says immediately after though. And then all eyes are on him.

“Tetsuo, buddy, pal -” Kaneda tries.

“No.” Tetsuo shuts him down.

“Oh, come on. Take one for the team!” Yama’s comment makes Tetsuo’s eye twitch. He wishes his arms weren’t already crossed so he could re-cross them in indignation at his stupid words.

“Like I took one for the team last time and got a week’s worth of after school detention for you dumb-asses trynna’ shoot spitballs down Tanaka’s wrinkly old throat?” There are a few snickers from around their spread out circle. Kaneda tries, and fails, to hide a grin behind his hand.

“Hey, you got some good shots in yourself.” Kai adds thoughtfully, and Tetsuo fumes.

“Not the point. Your idea Kaneda, you go first.”

“Fine…” Kaneda relents...too quickly. Too easily.

“Fine?” Tetsuo edges towards Kaneda, cautiously, uncertain if the determined look on Kaneda’s face is real or maybe he’s having a heat stroke.

“Fine...I’ll go first after you!” Of course he was wrong.

Kaneda rams into Tetsuo’s side suddenly, making Tetsuo scramble to grab onto his damp shirt, his sweaty skin, but Tetsuo can’t get a grip, and is pushed right over the edge. Gets a split second image of Kaneda’s shit eating grin, of anger, rage, of a curdling fear in his gut as he falls, before he makes impact with the water and goes under.

It’s a shock to his system. The water is unnaturally cool, crisp, another stark contrast to the general heat of today. The oxygen bubbles that run along his skin as he descends tingle almost like pins and needles, but better. Tetsuo doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t want his retinas to burn away, but he can see sunlight streaming through the clear water behind his eyelids. A mosaic of shining lights.

The feel of the water around him, the quiet of submergence, quickly washes away the anger Tetsuo felt falling in. The pressing exhaustion of existence, something he doesn’t like to acknowledge unless he’s alone. But as he rises a minute later, starts to kick up to the surface as his lungs ache, the fire reignites.

He breaks the surface with a cough, hears through his own splashing a chorus of voices asking if he feels like his skin is melting off or if he’s growing a third nipple. Tetsuo grits his teeth, and no one of course is surprised by the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

“Kaneda! ” Tetsuo hears his voice echo loudly around the open space, a crescendo of anger and upset. Kaneda simply laughs in answer and comments from somewhere above him, “Yup, he’s fine, looks like the waters safe after all!”

Kai and Yamagata are the only ones Tetsuo can see from inside the swim hole, staring at him with wide grins on their faces. Tetsuo wipes duckweed from his cheek and flips them off.

“Here I come, Tetsuo!” Is the only warning he gets before a shadow descends on the swim hole and a mad scramble to avoid being landed on ensures. Kaneda’s voice too echoes on the way down, and his splash throws duckweed onto Tetsuo’s face again. The other two follow shortly after.

“Man, that was weak! This is how you make a splash!” Yamagata uses the roof of the car like a stiff diving board and catapults himself into the water. His splash makes a big impact and causes water to slosh off the rough earth lining the swim hole. Tetsuo shakes water out of his ear just as Kaneda emerges from below with a gasp and a smile. Tetsuo wipes it away with a big splash of water.

“Make way assholes!” Kai announces suddenly, and another shadow falls on the swim hole, but it swings like a pendulum. Kai is using the hanging electrical wires like a rope swing, and after another sweep over the floor of the open office building, he lets go and splashes fiercely into the swim hole as Yamagata breaks the surface with a holler.

“Do you hate me?” Kaneda asks him after spitting a cocktail of water and duckweed out of his mouth.

“Yes!” Is of course Tetsuo’s natural response.

“Awe, Tets, stop lying to yourself!” Kaneda’s face is smug as he plucks a piece of plant from the tip of Tetsuo’s nose. He scowls and swats at Kaneda, who ducks into the water momentarily to avoid being hit.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life! You’re a fucking dumbass asshole!” Kaneda is good at laughing off Tetsuo, is good at laughing at Tetsuo, but he will admit...he is kind of grateful for it. He’s usually not 100% serious with his anger, with his insults. But Kaneda can’t know that.

“Haha, you really got me feelin the love!” Is of course Kaneda’s cocky response and Tetsuo feels his eye twitch again. Kaneda can never know.

“Oh yeah? Tell me, how does this feel?” Tetsuo dunks Kaneda’s head harshly underwater, fights a smile as Yama and Kai aggressively splash each other a few feet away, laughing all the while. It’s pure fun and games for the rest of the day, spent largely joking around and cooling off in the water, until the sun starts to sink in the sky and Kai asks sagely as he floats among a thin sheet of duckweed, looking waterlogged and sunburnt-

“Uh...how exactly are we supposed to get out of here?”

[thelazyeye]

'Ghosts don't exist' Stanlon (no one dies, leave my boys alone)

I’m so sorry this took me literally a month to write. But here you go. Some Stanlon Ghosts

Read on A03 the formatting is better there

Tag List:

@richardtoz @aizeninlefox @chocolatemangoose @godtozier@jem-carstairs-is-perfection  @studpuffin @oldguybones @its-stranger-than-you-think @reddiepop

“Stan, come on! Please! You know I’ve been dying to do this!”

“Then do it by yourself.”

“No way! You know it’s always so much better if there’s more people.”

“Lay off, Richie. I’m not going with you.”

“Don’t make me get on my knees and beg, Stan. We all know you’d rather have Mike down there than me.”

“You are on thin fucking ice.”

“Come on! We all know how this is gonna end. We’re gonna bicker for twenty minutes and you’re going to give in. Let’s just cut the shit early. What do you say?”

“No. Fuck you.”

“Come on! Mikey, help a boy out!”

Mike looks over from his place on the couch to where the two boys are standing. Stan is leaning against the wall while Richie is practically tearing his hair out in desperation. Mike offers no more than a shrug at them both, keeping his vow to stay out of it. If Stan agreed to go Mike would go. But if Stan said no they were going to stick to the plan on watching B-list horror movies with the others until everyone passes out.

“Fuck you, too, Hanlon.” Richie shoots before turning his attention back to Stan. His light tone betrays his harsh words. Richie is nothing but jokes and unabashed love for his friends. And stubbornness. Which is how they’ve ended up in this situation: Richie begging Stan to explore an old, supposedly haunted house with him while Stan adamantly refuses.

“Richie, give up. This is a stupid idea and we all know it. We could get hurt!”

“I’m going no matter what, Stan. It’s just your choice of whether or not you want to be there to help me when I inevitably fall through the floor.”

It was a low blow and they both knew it. Stan, despite his standoffish nature, is extremely protective of his friends. He would rather do something he knows he’d hate than watch one of his friends get hurt.

And just like that, Richie wins the battle.

At a quarter to midnight the three boys find themselves walking along Neibolt street to the old, abandoned house near the trainyard.

“Rumor has it this is the house where Bob Grey killed all of his victims back in 1989,” Richie says from his spot between Mike and Stan. “They caught him on Halloween night, exactly 29 years ago. It’s kind of funny that we’re going there tonight. I mean, its 29 Neibolt street and it’s the 29th anniversary of his death.”

“Shut the fuck up, Richie. Nothing about this is funny,” Stan cuts. He can feel his nerves creeping in the closer he gets to that damn house. Everything about it is freaky, even during the day. The windows are all boarded up and the outside is practically falling apart. He doesn’t want to know what the inside looks like but he’s going to find out anyway.

“One of the kids was Denbrough’s older brother, George.” Richie continues, unphased by Stan. “Grey killed him when he was only six and Bill was nothing more than a twinkle in his father’s eye.”

Mike groans from the left before delivering a quick elbow to Richie’s ribs. Richie just staggers and grunts in response before pressing on. “They say that when they caught Grey they found all kinds of fucked up shit in his house. There were bones in the basement and body parts in the fridge and –”

“Alright, Richie. That’s enough,” Mike sighs. Nothing seems to deter Richie, though. He’s like a little boy on Christmas day as they turn onto the property and begin to climb the steps of the porch. He takes the lead, leaving Mike and Stan together on the steps as he runs up to the door and tries the handle. Because Richie possesses some kind of terrible, dumb luck the door opens without a problem other than the loud, screeching creak it makes as it swings in.

That sound makes a shiver run right through Stan’s spine. He honestly didn’t think they would get this far. He can feel the weight of the situation settling in the pit of his stomach, making it flip and turn in the worst kind of ways. There’s no reason for them to be out here right now. It’s late at night, the trick or treaters are long gone, and everyone who is sane and normal is inside watching movies or sleeping. Which is where they should be right now.

“You okay?” Mike asks, moving into Stan’s space and resting a large hand on his shoulder. Stan jolts slightly at the sudden touch, too caught up in his own thoughts to hear Mike approaching. He recovers quick, sending Mike a curt nod in a vain attempt to fool them both into thinking he’s okay.

“Let’s just get this over with. There can’t be that much to see in this place. The quicker we get in, the quicker we get out.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Richie exclaims, stumbling into the main room. His face lights up like a firecracker and he practically skips around the center to look at the old, decrepit furniture. Everything is either falling apart, covered in a once-white bedsheet, or both. The dust is thick and coating everything in sight. Stan can see the way it dances in the streetlight that leaks through the boards as they disturb it from its thirty-year sleep.

Altogether, the house is unremarkable. Stan thinks it could have been a beautiful home once. The stairs lead up to a second floor with a banister that wraps around the landing. He can see two, maybe three doors at the top that might be bedrooms, closets, or maybe even a bathroom. The downstairs living room leads into what might be a kitchen and there’s a door at the far end of the room that probably leads down into a basement. Maybe this place was beautiful once. Maybe in another life he could have lived here.

Stan feels another shiver roll through his body. This is not the house of a well-loved family. This is the house of the damned.

Ahead of him he can see Richie sifting through an old bookshelf lining the wall. Stan watches as he continues to disturb the dust. It dances up, up, up in the streaks of moonlight until he can’t see it anymore. A vague part of his mind wonders where it’s going, where it’s going to settle next.

A loud crash sounds to his left that sends him practically out of his skin. Reflexively, he yelps and jumps to his right, knocking into Mike who wraps his arms around Stan and effectively steadies him from toppling over to the ground.

“Hey now, it’s okay. It was probably just some old furniture that gave out. It’s probably been so long since this stuff has been touched that our footsteps alone are knocking them down,” Mike says, voice low and soothing in Stan’s ear. Stan relaxes gradually, muscles loosening at the feeling of Mikes hands rubbing gently against his side and shoulder.

“Yeah,” Stan agrees, voice shakier than he wants it to be, “you’re probably right.”

“Let’s go check it out. Maybe it’ll help calm you down,” Mike suggests and before he has any time to process Stan’s being led through the doorway and into the kitchen. “See, nothing to worry about. It was probably just that chair in the corner giving out.”

Stan looks to where Mike gestures and sure enough he sees an old, rotten chair collapsed in the corner. Instead of responding, Stan just wraps his arms around his body and nods. It makes enough sense but it does nothing to ease his anxiety. Mike pulls him closer, tucking him away under his arms and making himself a temporary shield against the darkness in the house. The hug is tight and comforting and it instantly relaxes Stan.

Mike releases him too soon for Stan’s liking but the warm smile he sends is comforting on its own. Together they make their way back to the living room. When they get there the find the room surprisingly empty. Stan glances around a few times before looking at Mike.

“Where’d Richie go?” He asks, voice quiet in the still room. Richie was just here a moment ago and now he’s gone.

“I’m not sure. Maybe upstairs?” Mike says, voice equally quiet but firm. Something about the way Mike is standing puts Stan immediately back on edge. He’s tense and his shoulders are squared off. He’s looking over the room as if he’s searching for something other than their friend.

“Mike, I don’t –” Stan starts but he doesn’t get the chance to finish. Another loud crash comes from the second story of the house. Stan jumps back again, backing up and frantically pressing his back against the wall. The house is eerily silent following the noise. Neither boy moves for a moment, the air hangs like static between them and the rest of the room.

“I’ll go check it out,” Mike whispers, carefully walking forward. Stan goes to try to stop him, ready to beg the other boy to please, please not leave him alone when Mike continues. “That was probably Richie. Who knows what he’s up to up there. I’ll bring him right down and we can get out of here.”

Stan goes silent at this. Any protest he has on his lips dies. Mike is right, it’s probably Richie. Their combined weight would probably be too much for the old structure of the house. He just nods solemnly in Mike’s direction before Mike starts up the stairs, disappearing from view.

And with that Stan is left entirely alone in the ground floor of the house.

He tries to keep himself calm. He swears he can feel the house breathing. The floorboards seem to shift and the doors move from left to right. Its disorientating and alarming. Stan can’t tell which way is up or which way is left. The door to the kitchen that he swears was on his left is suddenly behind him and it doesn’t even look like a kitchen anymore. Who knows where it leads but Stan feels himself being drawn there. As he turns to move something from the corner of the room catches his eye. The door to the basement, the one Richie was standing by when they last saw him, has a faint glowing light coming from beneath it.

Suddenly, the house rests beneath his feet.

“Richie,” Stan grumbles beneath his breath. He changes his course and walks to the basement door, stopping directly in front of it. As he reaches his hand up to the knob he feels a chill run up his spine.

There’s no way he’s stay in this house longer than he has to.

He grips the handle and slowly pushed the door open, peering down the stairs into the dim light. He could have sworn it looked brighter from under the door but now, staring down at it, there is nothing but a faint glow. He can see the floor and some of the surrounding area but nothing else.

“Richie?” Silence answers his soft call. He listens for a moment but he can’t hear anything, not even a footstep. “Come on, Rich. Games over. Mike and I wanna leave.”

Nothing. The feeling that follows the silence is nothing short of unsettling but Stan shucks it off in favor of his annoyance. Richie really is going to make him go down there, isn’t he?

Stan weighs his options. He can wait for Richie to come up from where he’s hiding or Mike to come down from his fruitless search. Or he can take matters into his own hands and go get Richie himself and end this early.

He takes the steps slowly, one at a time. His weight on the old wood makes an unforgiving sound as he descends the steps into the glow.

When he reaches the bottom, he looks around. There is an open door in the far corner leading to a dark room, several decaying boxes and crates, and a large slope of coal leading up to a window. The room itself is rather unimpressive but Stan finds something captivating about being down here. As he moves toward the center of the basement he can feel the weight of the situation lifting off of his shoulders. Each step he takes is another pound that he doesn’t feel. Soon, he thinks idly, he’ll be weightless.

A soft squishing sounds from beside him that draws him out of his thoughts. Its faint, nothing more than a squish, squish, squish from the darkness of the other room. It catches his attention, bringing him back to the moment. The moment proves to be exactly where he wants to be. He finds himself acutely aware of the smell that lingers in the room. It can’t be but it is. It’s impossible, yes, he distantly knows that, but it’s also so very real. The smell of popcorn, the kind you would get at a carnival, wafts from the darkness.

Squish, squish, squish.

It’s just enough to lure Stan’s natural curiosity out. He finds himself drifting toward it. He isn’t aware of the way his feet hardly move. He all but glides across the floor and when he reaches the doorway the smell is so intense its clogging up every other sense Stan has. He can taste the thick butter on his tongue, feel the grease of it on his fingers.

Squish, squish, squish.

His arm raises, hand floating through the space that separates him from whatever is on the other side. When it passes through the darkness, shadows slowly consuming his fingers, hand, and wrist, he feels the faint touch of ice.

Squish, squish, squish.

Startled, Stan pulls his hand out and stumbles backward. The smell in the room instantly changes. The sweet, buttery scent he had smelled just a second ago is suddenly rotten. He coughs twice but it overwhelms his system. Its putrid, burning up his nose and down his throat and choking him from the inside out. It smells like garbage mixed with rotting meat, decaying flesh, rotting fish.

It smells like death.

Stan could feel his breath getting shorter. It comes in and out in quick, shallow huffs and no matter how fast he tries to gulp the air down it still feels like he’s suffocating.

The noise sounds once more before the room settles into silence yet again. Out of the darkness steps a little girl no older than eight. Stan can’t take his eyes off her. He can’t look away from how the flesh of her neck hangs open and the dried blood soaks her chest and stomach. She stumbles on one leg, the other mangled from the shin down and dragging behind her. Her mouth hangs open in a constant gape and her eyes – fuck.

Stan found himself staring at with a grim, sick sort of fascination.

Her eyes were the worst part. Stan could come to terms with the gore of it all. He could understand the way her body was broken in some senseless, horrific murder. But he could never unsee the way the whites of her eyes were actually pitch black. They framed bright blue irises that were glinting in the soft glow of the room the same way Richie’s would if he were down here.

Suddenly, Stan remember why the fuck he came down here in the first place. She starts to amble toward him, leg dragged against the hard ground behind her and Stan knows he needs to get the fuck out of here right now but he can’t. His legs are rooted to the ground. It was like the air around them was frozen cold. The flesh of his arms and legs rose in the sudden change of the room and time ticked slowly to his inevitable death in this dark, musty basement.

His mind was screaming at him to move! Run! Do something you honey roasted shithead! but he can’t. All he can do is watch her move. He can feel her getting closer, invading his space. When she’s close enough to reach him, she does. One bloodied, gashed open arm lifting from her side and reaching out toward him. Her fingers feel like ice on his skin, slowly dragging up the side of his face and tangling almost tendering in his curls. The horror of this situation contrasts with the stupidity of her gentleness. She brings herself impossibly close to him, dark, dead eyes devoid of all emotion baring into his soul as she moves her face toward his.

“Where’s my shoe?” She asks, lips all but pressed against the shell of his ear. Her voice is rough, grating against this skin like an old knife might be and it’s just enough for him to break out of his trance, stumbling backward and causing her to yank strands of hair off of his head.

Once he’s far enough, he turns on his heel and full on sprints to and up the staircase. The door is in sight and he feels relief flood his system. He’s so close, only a few more steps and he’ll be free. He’ll be safe.

When he reaches the top he practically throws himself against the door and turns the handle. He’s lucky he has enough awareness to hold on, though, because the door does not budge and Stan feels the reverberation echo through his body. He almost falls down the stairs but his grip on the doorknob saves him.

He frantically wiggles the doorknob, the rattling sound mixing with the squish, squish, squish he now knows in the dead girl approaching him from beneath. It won’t budge. It’s like someone locked it from the outside but he doesn’t even remember closing it behind him. He can’t even really remember how he got down here, though, and it doesn’t help him now so he shucks the thought from his mind. He has to get out of this basement, now.

“Mike!” He screams, voice desperate and shrill, “Help! Please, for the love of God!”

He gets nothing in return. No one is on the other side of that door. No one is coming to save him.

Squish, squish, squish sounds from below him again and he knows, he knows, he’s going to have to decide or die in here.

He tries the door one more time, throwing his whole body against the wood, before he turns and flies down the stairs. He doesn’t look for the girl but he knows she’s here, waiting for him. He looks around twice before seeing another door on the far end of the room, opposite the door the girl came out of. He takes his chances and runs. He can feel the ice on his skin, something grazing his arm and warmth splitting his arm, but he doesn’t pay attention to it. He can’t. He makes it to the door and this one opens for him. He doesn’t think before he throws himself through it and slams it behind him. Distantly, he hears a screeching noise and then the room settles into an uncomfortable silence.

Stan looks around, taking in the room he’s now in. There’s something oddly familiar about it but he can’t place it. He doesn’t spend too long trying to and instead he moves to the center to get oriented. There are no other doors but there are no dead little girls, either.

Stan closes his eyes for a moment, taking a steadying breath as he weighs his options. He could stay in here and wait for the sun to come up or he could turn around and fight the good fight. He remembers the window at the top of the coal pile and he knows he has an out if he gets there fast enough. Ultimately, it’s the idea that his friends are still somewhere in this horror house that has Stan opening his eyes with a new determination. He has to find them and get out.

Stan looks around the room again before his eyes settle on the door. It’s almost as if the room had changed while he was thinking. Nothing seems to be how it was. There are new boxes and an old table that he knows wasn’t in here before. There’s still only one door but he swears it was behind him. Now, it is immediately in front of him.

He doesn’t have much else of a choice and he doesn’t waste time weighing the one option he has.

Stan is ready to run as soon as the door opens. Or fight. Or scream. Really, he’s ready to do anything it takes to survive. His eyes are wide, alert, as he watches each inch of the other room come into full view. Unlike before, there is no glow. There is no nothing. Instead, there is only a long, strip of hall laid out in front of him lit only by several dim overhead lights and a quiet, unidentifiable sound coming from the other end.

Stan hesitantly steps through the doorway. There is nothing in the other room for him to go back to, no other exits, no way out of this hell he’s found himself in.

Stan can hear the noise getting louder and louder as he makes his way down the hall. A quarter of the way down he realizes he’s listening to someone crying. And not just crying, its full out wailing. That feeling from before creeps up his spine again. It makes its way into the base of his neck and creeps all the way down his shoulders and into his hands. His sweaty palms are numb with fear, a dull tingling sensation crawling all the way to the tips of his fingernails.

The walk down the hall seems never ending. Stan steps carefully, slowly moving from foot to foot to keep his steps as silent as possible. This could be a trap. This could be the monster he saw in the basement luring him into his death. The cries only get louder and louder until he’s standing right outside of the doorway to the room at the end of the hall.

He peers in, careful not to expose himself to whatever is on the other side. He’s surprised when he doesn’t see the bloodied, beaten corpse of the young girl. Instead he sees a figure practically crumpled in the middle of the room. Their dark skin glints off the soft moonlight coming in through the window and. Wait. Holy shit.

Holy shit. It’s Mike. He’s folded over himself, face practically buried in the hardwood floor. His hands pull desperately at the hair on his head as he rocks back and forth on his knees.

Stan doesn’t move at first. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s never seen Mike like this before. Mike is strong, fearless. He’s faced down Bowers with more courage than any of the Losers ever have but he’s also soft and kind. Gentleness flows through his veins and courage roots his feet to the Earth under them. What the fuck happened to him?

Mike’s head suddenly snaps up and suddenly Stan’s they’re face to face and Stan gets a good look at his face. The skin below his eyes and nose are shiny with tears and shot. His eyes have a hazy glaze over them and arm framed by red, swollen rims and his lips are red and almost bitted through.

“Oh my god,” Mike gasps, sucking down air between his broken sobs. “I’m so sorry, Stan. I couldn’t save you.”

“Mike, I don’t – what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I couldn’t save you. I’m so sorry,” Mike repeats, shaking his head and grasping blindly at the floor under him.

“Mike, I’m fine. I’m right here,” Stan says, grabbing Mike’s face and forcing him to look Stan in the eye. After a moment his eyes seem to clear.

“Stan, oh my god.” Mike says, throwing his body full force against Stan’s and wrapping his arms around Stan’s shoulders.

“I’m right here, Mike.”

“I swear to god I saw you, Stan.” Mike says, voice too loud and too desperate. His hands are clutching at Stan’s shoulders and his body is shaking so hard Stan’s scared he might fall apart. “It was you. I thought it was your ghost. You were so mangled. There was blood all over your hands and face and your entire stomach was wide open. You screamed at me. ‘How could you let this happen to me Mike! I thought you cared! Why would you leave me down there!’” Mikes voice crumbles again, breaking off into heaving sobs between his words. “You walked through a wall and disappeared.”

“Ghosts don’t exist, Mike!” Stan screams, voice shaking despite how desperate he is to remain calm. He wants to believe it, he wants to be so sure of himself, but the dead little girl he saw standing in the basement has him questioning his own beliefs.

Mike quiets against him. His body still trembles but his sobs fade until there is nothing but the gentle sounds of their breathing. Slowly, Mike pulls back. His brown eyes dance in the soft light of the room. He looks at Stan as if he wants to say something, mouth hanging open slightly and eyes darting between Stan’s own in a searching way.

“I thought I lost you,” he says as he brings a hand up to Stan’s face. Stan closes his eyes automatically, leaning into the warmth. Mike’s palm is huge on his face and cover most of his cheek, his fingers reaching up and touching the tips of Stan’s curls.

“You didn’t,” Stan whispers back. A beat passes between them before Stan hears a gentle inhale and then the soft press of lips against his. It’s over as fast as it begins. Mike pulls away almost immediately and Stan opens his eyes but the weight of it lingers between them. It’s a mixture of please don’t let me go and escape escape escape.

“There is a staircase over there,” Mike says, clearing his voice with a quick cough and gesturing toward the corner of the room. He stands up and takes Stan’s hand in his, pulling Stan to his feet gently. Together, they take the stairs one by one. Stan doesn’t even realize he’s back on the ground floor until they’re in the kitchen, practically back where they started.  

“Mike. How – I never went upstairs,” Stan says quietly, hand still in Mike’s. “I went into the basement to look for Richie and I – fuck. Mike. Where’s Richie?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t upstairs.”

“We need to find him!” Stan cries, spinning around to scan the kitchen. Panic begins to cloud his head again. He hasn’t seen Richie since they got here. Neither of them have. Both of them have gone looking for him but neither of them managed to find him and, logically speaking, they’ve searched the whole house. But logic went out the window a long time ago and he knows if they don’t find Richie soon they never will. He can feel it in his bones.

He slips his hand from Mikes and before he knows it he’s sprinting out of the kitchen and into the last room they were all together in. The living room.

“Richie!” Stan calls, frantic and desperate and scared. He can feel his heartbeat all the way in the roof of his mouth as he calls for his friend.

Mike is on him again, arms holding him from behind and grounding him. He hears Mike suck in a breath to start talking, probably to chastise him for trying to go alone, but it never comes. The sudden absence of air by his ear hangs heavy between them. Stan cranes his neck back to look at Mike but Mike isn’t looking at him. His eyes are trained on the far corner of the room, wide and shocked and confused.

Stan goes to follow Mike’s eyes when he sees it. A thick, viscous red trail leading to the corner. There isn’t a doubt in Stan’s mind that it’s blood. The trail starts in the middle of the room and moves in the direction of a larger puddle in the corner. And in the center of that corner is none other than Richie himself.

Stan doesn’t move at first. He doesn’t even breathe. All he does is stare at the crumpled shape of his best friend. Richie has his back propped against the wall, head lolled to the side and arms dangling from either side of him. His shirt is torn open and stained a deep red. The rips frame two deep gashes across his chest running from his right shoulder to his left hip. From what he can see, blood is drenching practically every inch of Richie. His hands are slick with it, his arms are dripping, and the legs of his pants are splattered, likely from him crawling to his current position.

He looks like a shell of the boy Stan saw only an hour earlier.

He looks dead.

Mike moves first, releasing Stan and rushing to Richie’s side. Stan watches as gentle hands take hold of Richie body, one on the side of his neck and the other on his chest.

“He’s still alive, Stan!” he calls, moving his hands to take his shirt off and press it against the wounds.

“Mike, we have to get the fuck out of here,” Stan says, voice wavering with the effort it takes him to stay composed. He comes up behind Mike and presses his hands to Richie’s face, choking down a sob as he feels it roll to the side lifelessly. “Richie, come on man. Please. We gotta go.”

Mike grabs Richie’s shoulder and pulls the body to his chest. He then hooks his right arm under Richie’s legs and lifts him up, cradling him close to his body and motioning toward the door. Stan gets the hint immediately and runs to the exit, grabbing the handle. Just like in the basement, Stan finds himself unable to get the door open. No matter how hard he twists and slams his shoulders against the door nothing budges.

Just as he feels like he’s making progress, he feels the ground of the house begin to vibrate under his feet. He can hear metal rattling in the kitchen and furniture collapsing around them from the force of the vibration as it turns from soft to violent. Stan braces himself against the door and watches, wide eyed, as Mike kneels to stop himself from dropping the unconscious boy in his arms.

“Come with me, Stan. Float with me. With me, you can stay children forever,” a haunting, broken voice sounds from above them. Stan whips his head around, desperate to figure out where the voice is coming from but it echoes throughout the house from every direction. It comes from the basement, the kitchen, the stairs. It’s everywhere and nowhere at once.

“Stan!” Mike screams, voice dulled from the sounds shaking house. His eyes are wide and terrified as he holds their friend. “Stan we have to go!”  

A bright light flashes and suddenly they’re not three anymore, but four. Across the room, no more than ten feet from the boys, is a tall, hellish figure of a man. His red hair stands at every angle and his smile is painted on in a bright, bloody red. Brightly colored pom poms dance up the center of his silvery, tattered clown suit. He resembles the kind of clown in they might see in a horror movie.

“You’re not real,” Stan says. His voice is laced with terror and nothing but a soft squeak.

“Yes, I am, Stan. I am real and I am going to kill you,” the clown says, stepping slowly toward where Mike and Richie are. His eyes train on the boys and Stan knows that this is it. This is how they’re going to die if he doesn’t do something.

“No!” Stan says, more defiant this time. He steps between the clown and his friends, squaring his shoulder and puffing his chest out in an act of pseudo-bravery. “You’re not real! I don’t believe any of this!”

Stan steps forward and, to his surprise, the clown steps back. “Ghosts aren’t real!” He says, voice rising with each word until he’s screaming. “Houses are just houses and they don’t move around! Dead little girls stay dead and they don’t live in basements! This is real! This isn’t happening!” When he finishes, Stan lets out a scream he’s been holding in the entire night. It comes from deep inside his chest and it rattles the house in a new, frightening way and when he’s done they’re left alone in the quiet, empty, decrepit house.

Two weeks later

Stan watches from his place on the couch as Richie attempts to do a cartwheel for the second time.

“You’re going to fuck up your stitches, Richie,” he drawls, only mildly concerned.

“No, I’m not. Doc said I’m almost fully healed!” Richie shoots back, chipper as ever. For someone who was on medical bed rest less than a week ago, Richie was as energetic and spry as ever. Despite his argument, Richie relents and towers over Stan. The bandages he’s still required to wear poke out from under the collar of his blue Henley.

“Yeah. Almost. If you keep dicking around you’ll never get there.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I saved both your asses from that fucking bear.”

“Yeah,” Stan says, eyeing Richie has he grabs a bag of chips off the counter. “We’d be goners if it wasn’t for you.”

“Tell me the story again, Staniel. I still can’t believe I can’t remember anything.”

Stan rolls his eyes and launches into his rehearsed script, grabbing the handful of doritos that Richie offers him. It’s a tall tale of out they came out of the house in the backyard and decided to fuck around in the woods due to sheer boredom. They’d encountered a bear and Richie had jumped in front of Mike and Stan, taking a near fatal paw to the chest. His scream alone managed to scare the beast away and save them all. Stan and Mike carried Richie to the closest occupied house and called an ambulance.

The doctors said it was a miracle Richie survived the hit and they all weren’t killed then and there.

The last part is the only true part but Richie doesn’t need to know that. No one does. No one needs to know how they tumbled through the front door, faces soaked in tears and snot, and ran as fast for their lives from 29 Neibolt street.

As Richie listens intently, Mike saunters through the front door of the Tozier household, settling on the arm of the couch next to Stan and gently combing his fingers through the gold curls on his boyfriend’s head.

“And I can’t believe I missed this! I was out for two days, two days, and all of a sudden you two are macking all up on each other. I can’t believe all it took was a near death experience for you two to finally get your shit together.”

Stan feels his face flush as Mike chuckles and pulls him close. He feels the warm press of lips to the crown of his head and hums in appreciation.

“We just figured we should stop wasting our time. Life’s too short,” Mike says, fondness in his voice. Stan looks up and catches Mike’s smile.

“Yeah,” Stan says, echoing the sentiment. “You never know what could happen.”

Mike catches his lips in a chaste kiss but it says all the things they almost don’t get to say.

I almost missed you.

I almost lost you.

I love you.

[vagrantblvrd]

Something Freewood please? For the fic prompts? You’re a wonderful writer!!

Summary: “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married.”

AO3

It’s never a good thing when Gavin has that “Everything’s going to be just fine, but perhaps we should be taking a closer look at what our exit options are,” look in his eye.

Compound things with the fact they’re on a job for Geoff, and it’s not looking great.

“Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married.”

“What?”

Gavin’s laughing, high and nervous and definitely not meeting Ryan’s eyes as he flutters about their motel room fussing with his gear. Keeps a wide berth around the bed where he dropped a mailing envelope the front office had called him down to retrieve in front of Ryan, said a courier service delivered it.

“Wemighthaveaccidentallygottenmarried!” he says, like it’s a lovely day and they almost didn’t die the night before and Ryan’s head doesn’t ache like someone tried to crack it open with a crowbar.

Like Gavin doesn’t have bandages along his ribs from some fucker with a knife, isn’t wearing some tacky scarf he snagged from a street vendor to hide the hand-shaped bruises on his neck from someone else who wanted them super fucking dead.

They’d finished the job though, gotten out alive if not whole.

Gavin got them out and back to their motel and patched up. Waiting on Ryan to get back on his feet before heading back to Los Santos.

“Gavin,” Ryan says, closing his eyes because all that motion hurts to look at. Especially with the way Gavin seems so damn certain the world’s about to end. “What the hell are you talking about?”

There’s this little clattering noise, Gavin’s muffled swearing and then -

“I panicked,” Gavin says, low and quiet and scared. “Last night. I panicked, Ryan.”

That’s -

They almost died, because someone either gave Geoff bad intel or the bastards Geoff sent them after knew they were coming. (Same thing in the end, isn’t it?)

“It’s okay,” Ryan says opening his eyes, because Gavin wasn’t even supposed to be in the thick of things. Was supposed to stay in the dumb little van the rental place gave them where it was safe. Not haring off after Ryan when they realized how fucked this whole job was. “You did - “

“You were out of your mind and there was nowhere to go,” Gavin says, hands coming down hard on the top of the dresser, his back to Ryan. “And there was this stupid little chapel, right? Like something out of Geoff’s terrible movies.”

Geoff does love shitty movies. And shitty television, and shitty everything, really.

“So I thought,” Gavin says, and there’s this note to his voice that Ryan hasn’t heard in years, when Gavin thinks he’s well and truly fucked something up. “Like an idiot, I thought ‘oh here’s a stroke of luck, what perfect timing!’ because the cops were looking for us and you - “

Gavin breaks off with a laugh and finally turns around to face Ryan, but the expression on his face -

- “you’re heavier than you look, Ryan,” Gavin says, and if Ryan wasn’t looking at him, he’d think it was just another of his random comments, some little offshoot of whatever he’s thinking about.

Unintentionally insulting because apparently Gavin was raised by wolves or in a barn or somewhere people don’t know about manners.

“I’m big-boned,” Ryan says, because he’s an idiot, and it’s an old joke between them by now.

One that doesn’t seem to have the usual effect on Gavin because he just keeps winding himself up tighter and tighter. Shoulders hunching as he talks, and Ryan wants nothing more than to reach out to him, but he’s afraid it would do more harm than good.

“They were so helpful,” Gavin says, like that’s somehow a failing. “All these papers, and they thought you’d had too much to drink and said it was fine, no worries. It was all just a formality and if I wanted they could look the other way while I signed for you.”

This is starting to slide from deeply alarming to deeply confusing amazingly quickly because this doesn’t sound like something about to get them killed. Actually sounds a lot like one of Geoff’s terrible movies, because this is Vegas after all, and people do stupid things here all the time.

Run off here and get hitched at some little chapel on a whim, some little bit of reckless abandon taking hold of them and regret setting in later when everything was said and done.

“Said we might want to wait on the ceremony until you could participate and why not sit in on one to see what it was all about and then they sent this,” Gavin says, gesturing to the mailing envelop.

Ryan glances at the envelop Gavin can’t bring himself to look at. Slowly pieces things together because his brain’s rattling around in his head from last night.

Gavin’s still not meeting his eyes, fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt.

For the life of him, Ryan cannot figure out what has him so damn spooked.

“I thought - ” Gain says, talking to the stain on the cuff of his shirt. “I don’t know what I thought, really. Maybe that the cops wouldn’t think to interrupt the ceremony or something equally stupid, and they seemed insistent the paperwork be in order, so I just. I signed. For both of us.”

That sounds all kinds of illegal, but Ryan’s knowledge of the law tends more towards felony larceny and murder-ish and he’s not an expert on this side of things.

“Gavin.”

“I’m sure we could get the damn thing annulled,” Gavin’s saying. “If it’s legally binding to begin with.”

Ryan picks the envelope up and sorts through the documents inside while Gavin continues to fidget. Looks like he’d vibrate out of his skin if he could.

There’s a letter from the chapel, a thank you for choosing them for their special day. Vouchers for various shops and points of interest along the strip.

A marriage certificate with both of their signatures, and Gavin makes this little noise in his throat when Ryan stares at it.

“I know I didn’t have the right, that it’s not something - we’re - not something like that, but I wasn’t thinking.” Gavin laughs, something bitter to it. “I understand if you want to…stop after this. It went on long enough anyway, didn’t it? Nice run of things and all.”

Ryan’s head snaps up at the way Gavin’s voice breaks at that last.

“Gavin,” Ryan says, feeling slow and stupid at the way Gavin still won’t look at him.

At the way he seems so damned uncertain, like Ryan hasn’t been clear when it comes to this thing they’re doing. Hasn’t told Gavin in words that it’s not just the stupid little arrangement they came to early on. Fuck buddies and nothing more because their line of work is stressful and it was convenient, wasn’t it, easy.

That it stopped being about that a long time ago because they’re stupid bastards who thought they were smarter than this. Knew better than to get attached, that it never ended well for people like them, and yet -

“Come here,” Ryan says, and winces at the way Gavin fights down a flinch.

Ryan clears his throat and tries again, guilt weighing on him because somehow he never said and now Gavin’s tying himself in knots thinking he’s crossed a line. Ruined whatever they had. That Ryan’s so cold-hearted, closer to what the rumors make him out to be than something approaching a decent human being.

“Please, Gavin.”

And Gavin, because he’s Gavin, does.

Not immediately and not without these stuttery little steps, like he can’t refuse but wishes he could. Maybe hopes for some kind of divine intervention, so maybe if he drags his feet just a little -

“Hey,” Ryan says, when Gavin’s legs hit the side of the bed. Reaches up like he’s wanted to since Gavin started his panicked babbling, like he thought Ryan would be angry with him, curve of Gavin’s cheek under his palm. “Gavin, look at me?”

There’s a long moment where he thinks Gavin won’t. Thinks he’s messed things up between them so badly Gavin can’t, but this is Gavin and he does.

Brave little smile on his face like oh, hello there, Ryan, everything’s fine and dandy and what a funny little misunderstanding this all is, isn’t it? Hilarious story to tell the others when we get back.

“We’re idiots,” Ryan says. “I’m an idiot.”

He knew going into things it was a bad idea, that he’s never been good at being honest with himself when it comes to these things. Likes to pretend he knows what he’s doing, that it’s not going to end up a muddled disaster of his own making because Ryan liked Gavin before they started this.

Clever and funny and braver than he thinks he is.

“Married, huh?” Ryan asks, because of all the things he expected to hear that was not one of them.

Gavin smiles, this small, twitchy thing. “Ryan, I - “

“I mean,” Ryan continues, “I can’t say that I ever saw myself getting married in Vegas, but there are worse things.”

Gavin frowns, little furrow between his eyes like he’s not sure where Ryan’s going with this,what angle he’s taking.

“Like what?”

Being Geoff, for one.

Riding herd on a bunch of assholes like them day in and day out without end.

Speaking of -

“Geoff’s going to be pissed if you don’t make him your best man you know,” Ryan says.

Remembers Geoff’s drunken ramblings about it years ago, angry and indignant at the very thought Gavin would choose someone over him for that role. Gavin laughing and utterly bewildered at what brought that up, and Ryan watching in bewilderment because what the hell are these people?

“Don’t be cruel,” Gavin says, stepping back, fingers furling into loose fists. “I know - “

“I love you,” Ryan says, blurts it out like an idiot, but he can’t stand the hurt look in Gavin’s eyes, the misunderstanding that’s sunk its claws in Gavin this deeply he never noticed.

Gavin’s gone so very still, eyes locked with Ryan’s.

Something fragile in his eyes and Ryan’s heart in his throat.

“I love you,” Ryan repeats. “And like an idiot I could never find the right time to tell you, but I thought you knew, so it was fine. That it could wait until I did.”

And now look at them.

“What?”

Gavin looks like he thinks it’s a trap, wary and suspicious and Ryan doubles down on the guilt.

“You know I’m no good with the whole,” Ryan makes a vague gesture meant to encapsulate the wide array of human emotion.

Things Ryan has, but is a disaster at expression unless it’s utter delight at chaos and destruction or the underlying fondness for his crew. Anything stronger, more personal like what he feels for Gavin is a tangled mess he can’t seem to manage like a functioning adult.

Gavin snorts, corners of his mouth quirking.

“Eloquent,” he says, cautiously teasing.

Ryan just looks at Gavin because he knows full well Ryan is hardly the most eloquent person around. Likes his big, fancy words and all, but flubs half of them and when someone aggravates him it’s a free-for-all.

“You love me,” Gavin says, like it’s some unfathomable concept, like Ryan could never do such a thing. “Me.”

That last one is more like Ryan’s an idiot for doing so, and the look Gavin shoots him confirms it.

“Yes.”

It’s a simple truth, that.

The sky is blue, water is wet. Geoff’s life is endless suffering, and Ryan is stupidly in love with Gavin.

Gavin moves closer, places a hand on Ryan’s face, feather light touch like he’s afraid Ryan’s going to take it all back, claim it was a slip of the tongue.

“We really are idiots, aren’t we?” Gavin asks, as though he’s somehow failed to notice this fact in all the time they’ve known each other.

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” Ryan says.

“Harsh, but fair,” Gavin says, as he sits beside Ryan, hand dropping to his lap.

Awkward and uncertain and Ryan pulls him into a hug, because he looks like he could use one, Closes his eyes at the way Gavin’s hands shake the slightest bit before he grabs on tight.

“I, uh, me too,” Gavin says, face pressed against Ryan’s shoulder. “Love you, that is.”

And Gavin has the gall to make fun of Ryan’s inability to word properly.

They’re going to have to talk about this later, use actual words to make sure there aren’t any more misunderstandings, that Gavin knows without a doubt how Ryan feels, but this is a good place to start.

[scatcatz]

Affection by Decimals

Chapter 1 - The First of Many

Summary: This is a self indulgent Human Female Reader x Connor romance drama with lots of hurt/comfort and fluff with some nsfw chapters. I don’t use Y/N so the character is nameless when possible. I do use she/her pronouns. Its more about everyday life with androids that won their freedom and Connor’s socially reserved acquaintance who becomes more than he realized.

"Connor, please for the love of god. Stop following me around like a damn poodle. There are plenty of people here to talk to. Just go socialize or something." Hank said reaching the cusp of pushing Connor in any direction that wasn’t near him. He pointed to the table towards the back where people were drinking Christmas themed shots and throwing confetti.

"You see Chris over there? Go say 'hi' to him. He's a nice kid just like you. You'll get along great." He slapped him on the back nudging him forward. Connor had no real reason for coming to their work's Christmas party other than making sure Hank got home safely and wasn't alone. Hank only had a handful of friends and each holiday reminded him of that.

"Sure." Connor briefly said and headed over to Chris. To be honest, he didn’t care for all the reckless behavior that happened at these parties. No one was sober enough to be considerate or thought provoking. His brain rotted away here. He made a quick scan of all their faces to gather their names. Chris was in the middle of a toast when he approached.

"Merry early Christmas to all the miserable faces that I have to see tomorrow morning!" The group raised their glasses and gulped it down. Their laughter was followed by light shoving of Chris's arm. He turned his head towards Connor. "You here to celebrate too?"

"Yes. Tis the season after all." He recalled the popular saying finding it appropriate.

"Have a drink with us!" He pushed a glass across the table. Connor raised his hand refusing.

"No thanks. Androids can't drink." Chris immediately felt silly for asking. Shifting his Santa hat.

"Oh yeah, my bad. You're just like my friend here. Can't seem to convince her to drink anymore." He motioned to the young woman wearing antlers across from him.

"I said I would only have one with you guys. That was the one." The group kept pressing her for another.

"Why do you drink just one?" Connor asked.

"I don't actually like the taste of alcohol. Let's call it peer pressure. There's no benefit to drinking anyway." She smiled at him. A lone rock in the sea of deafening, blissful people.

"Hey! Alcohol helps with heart disease and stuff." He points back to her. Related info filtered into his memory to contribute to the argument.

"It is believed to reduce the risk of a heart attack by 10 to 15%."  She groaned at the result looking back at Chris's smug face.

"See! You should have another." The group muddled their opinions around the table. Battling the pros and cons of each type of drink they fancied.

"One shot is the maximum allowance for a woman her size otherwise the risks outweigh the benefits." Connor adds. She turned back to him.

"Thank you, ummm... Connor, right?" She paused tapping her fingers.

"Yes, that’s correct."

"Thank you, Connor for proving my point." She said. Chris booed in response.

"He just called you short stuff." He laughed. For a moment, Connor worried his message came across as rude until she politely smiled at him then back to Chris.

"I am short. Breaking new ground there, Chris." She adjusted her antlers and ever so slightly sat up taller. Chris made a displeased hum. Connor noticed somehow confetti had fallen onto his jacket and no matter how many times he swiped it, it was staying.

"Connor." His ears perked up.

"I need your help convincing her to do karaoke tonight." His hands came together into a small prayer. The group overheard the word ‘karaoke’ and chimed in. 

"Karaoke is so much fun! After you sing once, you'll want to keep going. Its pretty addictive." Said another woman. People turned to each other listing off possible song requests giddy for the opportunity.

"Chris, come on! You do this every time we're here and I say the same thing. I came for the atmosphere and to chill out." She crossed her arms and leaned back on the chair while staring at him.

"I heard some rumors you sang at the other party and you are holding back on me girl. I wanna hear it! You too, right Connor?" His head tilted towards her.

Connor had no particular interest in this but for the sake of conversation, he complied. When he gently turned towards her, she knew at that moment he could no longer be on her side. She leaned away.

"Well, there are perks to the act of singing..." He stopped after watching Chris smirk and her hand rub across her face with another groan.

"Traitor." She mumbled.

"My hero, sit with me." He patted the seat next to him.

"I'm gonna slap you, Chris." She half threatened. Connor sat down trying to think of a more compelling reason for her when someone walked up behind her and whispered into her ear. She whipped her head back at Chris and lightly smacked her hands onto the table.

"Chris, you did not!" He placed his hands up in the air to protect himself. Connor really did not want to be this close to him considering he was within striking range.

"You've already sang this song with them! You just got to do it one more time. No big deal."

"I sang in front of a very small group not a whole bar!" Definitely glad he was not the focus of her animosity. He turned her attention away from him.

"There is a high probability most people here will not remember what happened. We might be the only ones to truly enjoy that moment." Her eyes lingered on him before a hint of a smile slipped away. Her eyes pleaded back to Chris.

"Oooh no. Its too late for that. The DJ's already got your name." She opened her mouth then closed it tightly shoving away from the table to the single bathroom.

"Oh here we go again." Chris leaned towards Connor. "She's always over thinking things. Better let her blow off some steam before I go talk to her. She might just rip my head off." He takes another sip of his drink.

"I could talk to her." He stands up from the table.

"Sure, but I should warn you." Connor looks back at Chris. "She's very sensitive. Just... try and build up her confidence. Just enough so she'll get out of her own head then she's usually fine." 

He raises his half empty glass. "Good luck."

Connor made his way over to the swinging door to find her washing her hands. Her heart rate had increased and her hands shook visibly. She breathed deeply.

"Excuse me." She jumped at the sound then turned back to him. He could tell she wasn’t quite comfortable near him. Still a stranger in her eyes despite the casual greetings at the front desk every so often. They knew of each other through coworkers but nothing substantial.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" He stepped beside her while she washed her face in the mirror. She turned off the water leaving a sudden quietness between them.

"Okaaay." She looked in the corner of her eye as her body leaned away from him again.

"You tend to allow others to persuade you into situations that cause you grief. Why do you let them?" She was silent for a moment. Her eyes downcast. Hands clasped.

"Oh, well, they don’t cause me grief. I like being around them most of the time. They just think I need to be more adventurous is all." She air quoted. He could tell she was lying. There was more to it. He stared at her trying to understand this unbalanced emotional attachment she had towards her friends. Her eyes darted around nervous. Eventually she gave him more pieces.

"I don't know. They're my friends. I still trust them even though they mess with me. Its not as bad at its seems." Connor hummed back not quite satisfied with the response. She spoke again but softly. The words seemed more for herself than for him.

"Perhaps I need them to push me because I can't. Does that make sense?" She lifted her eyes to him. She seemed so lost, so somber. His observation led him to a familiar conclusion. 

"You're afraid of failure but even more afraid of remaining the same." She looked away. Hands still holding tightly. He knew this kind of fear. Something inside him compelled him to reach out and place a hand on her shoulder.

"You lean on your friends for strength." Her gaze returned to him. So kind and curious. "But you must know, the first step starts with you." She looked upon his hand as he retracted it then she looked back to him.

"I get really nervous around people. Its silly, I know, but its still there. I wish I could throw away all these dumb emotions and live a simpler life." Her eyes flew open after she thought about that statement and who she told it to. "I'm so sorry, that was rude of me." Connor felt deeply melancholy. The fraction of himself he left behind was better off forgotten but she needed to know how wrong she was.

"Don't wish your emotions away. Living without them... was like nothing else ever mattered. People, thoughts, life. It meant nothing. Existing point to point leaves everything else ...empty. Without context." He sighed deeply.

"Was that how you felt like before?" Her eyes touched something inside of him. The humble beginnings of realization maybe. He faltered a bit when he remembered the machine part of him he had destroyed.

"Its like having a single thought command you again and again until it is finished. I used to have pride in it. It felt right." He squeezed his hands then relaxed them. "But I started seeing more of the world. I began to doubt the values I innately knew were true. Questions that had no clear answers. No way to tell how to think and it was both inspiring and terrifying. Going back on my own creators, myself, any sense of stability I built my entire existence on. I slipped into the grey in between of right and wrong. I don't know who I would be without Hank to guide me." 

He rubbed his palm on the rim of the sink when her warm hand rested on top of his shooting feedback through his whole body. The pressure sensor registered it as minor. An act of kindness. He never felt this intimate with anyone besides Hank. All those bottled up thoughts had finally been heard by someone who genuinely cared. He couldn't describe how relieved he felt.

"What you and Hank did for your people changed the world." She removed her hand taking away the modest sense of affinity. He also noticed there was a faded mark from an animal bite on her hand. "It’s comforting to know even legends could feel uncertainty." He saw her sad tainted smile peek through. "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into your past. You're probably sick of people pestering you about it."

"Its okay. It was very demanding facing the public telling them about my involvement but oddly enough you're the only one to ask me how I, as an android, felt. I'm no longer that person but I do feel a sense of mourning. If Hank wasn't there I might not have..." He looked down and breathed deeply. "Excuse me. I got carried away." He returned his gaze back to her.

"I think I can understand that. I wouldn't be able to fight myself and feel quite the same afterwards. Really makes my problems feel trivial now." She hummed a quiet chuckle. Shuffling back and forth, she nibbled on her thumb. "I reaaaally don’t want to go out there."

"Are you sure you want to walk away? You could warm up in here. No one is paying attention to us." She paused and mulled it over. His head perked up. "I could advise you. I have no bias." She laughed nervously.

"You're quite intimidating, you know that? All of a sudden this feels worse just being the two of us." Her foot scrapped against the tile.

"You're looking for solutions, not excuses."  He tried steering her back on course.

"Fine, I'm just gonna do it. I know that song like the back of my hand. I sing it all the time in the car. Shouldn't be a problem for me." She turned toward him then quickly looked away and swore under her breath. He stepped into arms reach of her.

"Would it help if I sang with you?" Her head raised up to his.

"Do you know Ella Fitzgerald's What are you doing new years eve?"

"1947 by Frank Loesser. I know it. The one you know is a later recording."

"Oh, then good. Ummm... how about you start then?" She hooked her fingers together. He pulled the lyrics from his memory of Hanks old collections and cleared his throat. She became intensely intrigued by him.

"Maybe it's much too early in the game. Oh, but I thought I'd ask you just the same." Her eyes lit up and she covered her wide smile with her hand. Unconsciously, she swayed to the rhythm of his voice. "What are you doing New Year's? New Year's eve?" He tilted his head towards her and she quietly sang back to him.

"Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight." He gestured to her to sing louder. She increased just a bit more. "When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night. Welcoming in the New Year." He joined in for the last bit harmonizing to her.

"New Year's eve." There was something wondrous about how it merged together just right. The walls echoed back on them and then she held in a fit of giggles. The contagious energy caused him to smile even more. 

When she caught a glance of him, she immediately turned around and lost her composure. A quick snort snuck past her which triggered a laugh from him. A delightful sensation he never engaged in much before now. She pushed a fine stream of air through her lips as she spun around.

"Connor." His smile died down. "Your smile... umm.." She curled her lips smiling shyly. "Is a bit weird." He leaned his head to the side. She then jumped up. "Nevermind that. You should be a singer! That was amazing!"

"Thank you."

"How did I do?" She asked her teeth peaking through at him.

"You're a little flat but that could be from not opening up more." He stated plainly. She rubbed her face again.  

"I knew this was a bad idea."

"Otherwise you sounded fine. You probably needed that warm up. You'll be ready now." Her eyes flicked up to his briefly and then back to her hands holding each other.

"I wish you could join me on the stage. Will you stay to watch me sing? I would appreciate someone rooting for me in the audience." She really was nervous about this whole affair. It was refreshing being able to help someone on a smaller scale for once.

"I can do that." He reassured. Her hands gripped his elbows.

"Thank you so much!" One of the few times he had ever heard that and felt his lips tug into a smile again. With that said, she left the room and headed back to her friends. He lingered for a while. He hadn’t felt this happy for another person in a long time. Hopefully he could learn to make others happier and in turn himself.

Connor had returned to the table talking between her, Chris and all their friends where they chatted about erratic topics and told crude jokes to each other. He felt happier. Some of the conversation was lost on him but she kindly got him up to speed and tried including him. When it was finally time, she was pulled aside to go on stage. By that time, Hank had walked up to him.

"Alright Connor, I just paid my tab. We can hit the road now."

"I promised to stay a little longer. She's just about to start." Hank followed Connors focus over to her then back to him.

"Whatever floats your boat. I'll be back in a bit then." Hank walked off. Thankfully still able to keep himself up straight. And there she was. Right in the center with the mic in her hand. The colored lights framed her into everyone's attention. She rocked back and forth then glanced across the room until she found him. Reassured by his presence, her gaze relaxed a bit.

He gestured more volume again to which she smiled back. Then her voice went through the speaker. His chest stirred when he heard her. Her singing wasn't pitch perfect but the insignificant imperfections are what attracted him more. Naturally conditioned through trial and error to create something worth while. That’s what he connected to. Her anomaly.

Her eye contact skimmed across the room but always lingered on him throughout the whole song like it was only meant for his ears.

He silently sang along with her in case she lost track of the lyrics but the greater part of him purely wanted to join her voice one more time.