#big brother heavy and little brother scout 4 life

[lunatic-pudge]

People be headcanoning Scout as unable to drive, but then I remember this exists

On a motorcycle with HEAVY, of all people. While yeah, I do agree with the headcanons (Scout looks like he could crash a vehicle within 5 seconds of turning it on). You gotta give the man props for driving a motorcycle. (And you KNOW Scout specifically asked for a motorcycle from the car rental)

Also, I wish we got to see more Scout and Heavy adventures. I just really love the idea of these two having a brother type relationship I wish we could get more of this.

[finchly-tintinnabulation]

- Scout's Honor - Part 4

Original Ultramarine (Aristaeus) x GN!Reader

<<Prev = Next>>

Tags: SMUT, fluff, cuddling, intercrural sex, reader being affected by bond nonsense, Aristaeus is a big virgin be nice to him

Thank you to @candyswirls for the cuddling headcanons, @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond for reminding me why Aristaeus has big brown eyes like a baby cow, and @daily-shenanigans784 for the beta read WE FUCK 4 MACRAGGE

The Chorus: @thisuserislilsilly

- - -

Your hand flew to the side of your neck, the low ache of the mark stinging anew as your face grew hot. Were there details you had missed, or more likely were omitted for the sake of a professional documentation?

“Come on, you absolutely reek of him.” Diomedes teased, but there was a gentleness in his tone, especially with how alarmed you looked. It was clear enough that you and the Astartes had been given different levels of information about their unusual bodily processes. “I’m sure he’s absolutely dying for you to return the favor. At the very least I’ve heard it can help with a… temporary lack of proximity.”

You smelled stressed. Something clicked into place remembering Aristaeus’s concern. The Astartes had incredibly enhanced sensory capability, being able to track a scent like a bloodhound across a burning battlefield, and read emotions by the subtle cues of baseline hormones. Oddly enough it made sense that the intensely instinctual nature of a bond would be so tied to those primal senses.

“Chin up, Brother! We can show your little human how to make a proper nest, they’re going to be part of the squadron anyway.” Reaching across the table to where Aristaeus sat with his face in his hands, Pallas patted him on the shoulder. Hilariously his ears were flushed as pink as your face felt, and you bit your tongue before accidentally embarrassing him further.

-

Staying alert was a vicious fight that you were rapidly losing, the contentment of being enveloped by warm bodies irresistibly washing over you. The life of a serf was hard labor and strictly rationed rest, so you had little hope of resisting the lure of an afternoon nap. Once finishing lunch, Diomedes had wasted no time dragging Aristaeus off to your now shared room while Pallas went to fetch materials; an armful of well worn blankets and threadbare cushions all in the same Ultramarine blue. It wasn’t hard to imagine generations of neophytes being comforted by these simple amenities

Pulling out your little mattress, the two scouts cheerfully began constructing the nest, something they had been taught to comfort each other. Even without a bond, rut made the Astartes clingy, so they had been instructed to keep their squadmates close. Speaking of clingy, while Aristaeus had resigned himself to Pallas and Diomedes and their help, he sat on his cot and watched them work, keeping you cradled defensively in his lap.

That was where you stayed, even once all three Astartes had settled themself in their pile of soft things, with your head tucked under Aristaeus’s chin and his squadmates snuggled up against either side of him. There was absolutely no hope of escaping with an assortment of enormous arms and legs wrapped around you, but what was the point when it was so very comfortable. All three scouts let out low rumbling vocalizations, something you now recognized as analogous to purring, turning your nerves and thoughts to white noise.

Eyelids heavy, a drowsy sense of curiosity had you shifting slightly, burying your face in the sinewy crook of Aristaeus’s neck. You had nowhere near the senses of an Astartes, but the hind-brained thought of your mate’s scent had you breathing him in. The chemical smell of his enhanced physiology hit your nose like ozone, but it was only for a moment before being superseded by something more warm and sweet, spices and musk and smoke. Somehow you didn’t mind the odd metallic aftertaste of it, knowing it was him.

Is this what he had marked you with? Besides the physical bites, of course. Some signal that you were his, and… you wanted others to know Aristaeus was yours, as well. You hummed, nuzzling against where you could feel the thrum of his hearts pulsing through his carotid artery, his purr trilling as you pressed your lips to it.

Marking him. Without a second thought you sank your teeth into his skin, sucking at his flesh to taste the honeyed tang of his pheromones. Warm and blissful, your mouth tingling as a whine slipped from Aristaeus’s throat, faintly feeling something pressed against your backside. 

“Get out. Both of you, out.” Aristaeus muttered hoarsely, his voice a pleasant buzz to your ears. It took a moment once the enveloping warmth subsided that you seemed to properly rouse, realizing that Pallas and Diomedes were standing and Aristaeus’s purr had become a growl. Had you fallen asleep? It certainly felt like you were awakening from a nap.

“We were getting comfortable, what’s—”

“I said out.” Oh dear.

There was no more arguing as the two scouts hurriedly took their leave, shutting the door behind them, and you finally registered the feeling of embarrassment. You’d seriously just bitten him. Were you about to be punished?

“Sorry…” Aristaeus whined in your ear, and suddenly his bid for privacy took on a much different meaning. What had been pressing against your rear was now rubbing, the marine’s hips twitching as if trying and failing to keep still.

“Uh. What for?” You replied dumbly as the hands that had been wrapped around your torso slid down to grip your hips. You may have had an inkling of what he was apologizing for, and you turned to try and get a better view of his face.

“...I need—” His words were bitten off by a whine as he forcibly tried to loosen his hold on you, face flushed and eyes squeezed shut. “You are so small, I was warned of… harming you. I can’t do it, I’m bigger than you, I don’t know how to—” Never in your life did you think you’d hear a space marine sound scared, but Aristaeus was downright afraid, his deep voice so unsure.

“Oh, Ari.” What sort of sex ed did they give the Adeptus Astartes? Whatever crash course Aristaeus had been absorbed clearly hadn’t prepared him for the act of intercourse, and that was even more disastrous when the poor scout was so immediately needy. Internal damage was also not on your schedule for today, so you tried to think quickly. “...You know you don’t have to go inside, right?”

“I don’t?” Right, so that’s a no. Gently you brushed his hands off your hips, to which he hesitantly obliged, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your trousers and shimmying them down, trying to ignore the choking whimper Aristaeus let out at the sight.

“Between my thighs should provide enough friction. Since you seem to… like them?” You chuckled shyly recalling your first meeting, kicking off your pants and undergarments in one go and shifting off his lap. “Let’s… lay on your side, please.”

“Emperor forgive me.” Aristaeus’s voice was small and harsh, but again he did as he was told, shifting down in the nest and waiting as patiently as he physically could for your next move. Carefully you lay in front of him, not quite slotting yourself against him yet but feeling his body heat radiating against your bare backside.

“...Pull your pants down.” Your voice cracked, feeling him move before you finished your sentence and subsequently punctuating it with something hot and hard slapping against the small of your back. Hands shaking, you tugged the hem of your tunic up and out of the way, lifting your knee by way of invitation for him to… arrange himself.

Hot and heavy, Aristaeus slid himself between your thighs, hovering there for an unbearable moment before pressing you to his body. He was already leaking, dripping thick clear precum onto your skin, the tip flushed so red it seemed to glow with heat. His cock pulsed and he shuddered, as if overwhelmed by the mere touch of your skin, moaning as he pressed his face into your hair.

“Nnh… oh, by the Light…”

Neither of you needed any more encouragement as you squeezed your legs around his shaft, shifting your hips to grind against it, your own arousal growing rapidly. Aristaeus mirrored your movements, small and slow and a bit nervous, following your lead. Back and forth, gauging a rhythm as his leaking tip began to make the space between your thighs slick, gliding like silk. He thrusted forward as you pushed back, your breaths growing heavy in tandem.

That wetness combined with a briefly found tempo finally bore fruit, as the lewd smack of skin on skin met your ears, and Aristaeus was pushed past his anxiety to pure unadulterated need. Gasping, his arms tightened around you like a vice as his hips slammed forward, relentlessly pistoning as a torrent of cries and broken prayers spilled from his throat.

His lips found the junction of your neck again, but instead of his teeth the touch was his soft heated mouth, sloppy ministrations hardly silencing his pleas. The slapping of his hips to yours was growing almost deafening, thrusting so hard it practically knocked the breath from your lungs, struggling to get enough air between that and the fierce hold he had around your chest. The force and friction made your head spin, relentlessly humping up against your groin.

Drooling against your nape, Aristaeus’s words dissolved into a cacophony of pants and groans, his pace lost in favor of desperation. Breathless and dizzy, you barely had time to recognize how close he was, subsequently realizing the mess you were both about to make. You clumsily grabbed a blanket, attempting to cover your crotch just as Aristaeus tipped over the edge with shuddering wail.

Flushed and with your hands covered in spend, you felt struck dumb as stillness suddenly fell over you, the only sound being the shared ragged breathing of you and your mate. Warm, listening to the faint buzz of the machinery tucked into the fortress-monastery’s walls, just breathing.

A large hand gently gripped your shoulder, turning you gently to see Aristaeus looking at you with those big concerned brown eyes. Then, cupping your face, he kissed you. Soft and thankful.

[8-rae-rae-8]

leave it or not, hands on a miracle

✑ 《♢‣⊹ Lukas James Withers

DOB: Jul.2, 1977 ⇢ DOD: Oct.22, 2020 • — Shadow Company [CoD]

Status: Deceased

Aliases: Shadow 4-3, Walker

Former Army - Aviation Officer (09-11), Op. Specialist (11-15)

20yrs Active Service (1995-2015) Pre-Shadow Company

Lieutenant Shadow Company Field Operator - Weapons Specialist

CharacterHub; For smaller details

⬐――――――――――――――⊣

Dark brown hair - green eyes w/ very noticeable eyebags

One big scar across the left side of his face - scarring his lips as well.

6' - No weight on record

Dresses relatively casually. He prefers to wear hoodies and jackets the year around. He is chronically cold.

Wore a matching bracelet with his brother — it's kept in a lockbox now.

Has a full back tattoo that curls around his ribs in the front.

⬐――――――――――――――⊣

His story...

Lukas was known to be a calm leader, analytical in every sense as he stayed up late nights to rerun details. Then getting up early to go over them all again with his platoon. It was a strength of his to gladly do it repeatedly, and joining his men out in the field. Where he eventually met his death.

To Lukas, family was first; which meant his younger brother, who follows in his footsteps to this day, was his top priority. Getting home to him, where he could ease both of their pains.

When he turned eighteen, his only option was military. His grades so poor he couldn't get much further than that. Though, he entered in a schooling program during his time in the Army where he got a degree and was able to push forward with better knowledge.

From time to time, especially when he went home, heavy weights came back to his shoulders. His parents fell into a steep pile of debt, where they began to sell every gift Luke bought for his little brother. All while being blamed for his brother missing developmental milestones, their parents sold everything that could have gotten the boy engaged in something.

He knew, and understood, when he hit twenty that it was merely a horrendous situation he could only do so much to help. He blames himself partially for his brother's trauma, but now knows it wasn't ever his fault. It wasn't his job to be a parent when from the time he was nine, to twenty. That didn't mean he didn't try to make it easier though.

Lukas found a nice place within the military, he liked where he was. He met his fiance through a celebratory bar hop, too. It didn't take long at all for them to move in and for her to become a very important part of his life.

But, he's never been too lucky. In a mission, he was wounded and discharged (talked out of a dishonorable for fighting it). It earned him his facial scar and hefty physical therapy bills.

Within the next few years, Shadow Company began scouting members. And with his connections, his previous work around General Shepherd, he was quick to become a soldier for Commander Graves. A face and name he remembered easily, he knew the man before he had that scar on his face. Not knew, really, but recognized.

It was closer to home, to his brother, who was only just getting dealt damage by his choices. Luke saw him in the hospital with scars painfully painting his face and neck. His brother learned though, and earned himself Luke's word on a recommendation to Shadow Company.

He was the kind of leader that always left with 'good job's and proud smiles, despite the outcome. They did their best work, and he encouraged his men to continue. He kept a bowl with free sweets always available on his desk when he was there, and was always happy to talk with anyone in the company. Over time, he grew close with Graves, as well. A brotherly bond, in a way, past just being brothers in arms.

Lukas didn't live long enough to see his brother make it in.

On October 22nd, 2020, Lukas was killed in the field. His body torn apart by high caliber bullets, shipped home in a body bag. Unrecognizable past his face, though that was just barely intact.

Worse, though... He knew it would happen, he saw the glint of the weaponry before it fired. He had not a second to react. All he could do was worry for his brother. His team would make it, he was sure, but his brother was always first on his mind even if he was smart.

⬐――――――――――――――⊣

Timeline..

1977 - He is born. Wow :0

1990 - (13yrs) His brother is born // He starts taking care of him and starts struggling in school. // His parents start drifting emotionally.

1995 - (18yrs) He almost fails out of high school. // He joins the military. // His parents go into debt.

2000 - (23yrs) He starts sending letters and gifts to his brother while deployed.

2005 - (28yrs) He starts needing to pick up his little brother from his school when their parents refuse. // He met a nice girl at a bar.

2007 - (30yrs) He worked with General Shepherd on an important, and successful, mission. // He was recruited onto another mission with General Shepherd at the head of it — there, he briefly met Phillip Graves.

2008 - (31yrs) His brother joined the army.

2012 - (35yrs) He proposed to his girlfriend (she said yes)

2014 - (37yrs) They continue to hold off the wedding

2015 - (38yrs) Lukas gets injured in the field and medically discharged. // He begins physical therapy.

2016 - (39yrs) He finishes PT. // They restart planning a wedding with their leftover funds from his treatment. // He starts getting antsy without anything to do. // He goes back to training now that he's healed and without much pain.

2017 - (40yrs) He gets a carefully worded email in his inbox from the familiar General Shepherd recruiting men for a new PMC. // He joins Shadow Company. // He meets his brother in the hospital after his brother is critically injured.

2019 - (42yrs) He recommends his brother to Phillip Graves for the growing PMC. // He settles wedding options. //

2020 - (43yrs) Oct.22, Lukas dies in the field.

2021 - (Deceased) His fiancee has their child he hadn't known about.

⬐――――――――――――――⊣

• Although he wasn't the best at art, he loved creating. From murals that remain in the HQ to this day, to sketch books left in storage after his passing. He loved to make things that others enjoyed. Seeing others' joy eased a part of his soul.

• He kept a hoodie or jacket tied around his waist as much was acceptable. He ran cold. A candle at his desk helped to keep his cold hands warm during chilly nights.

• He was a story teller. Everything from his own embarrassing stories, rookie stories, or just things he made up. Get him drunk enough and he'll make anything funny, too.

• There wasn't enough time for him, but for the longest time, he wanted a family. He only got the gift of his first child months after he passed.

• He used to have to throw pens out because he chewed the end and burst the ink tube.

⬐――――――――――――――⊣

AUs:

Omegaverse - Dominant Omega

Hybrid/Shifter - Buck/Deer Hybrid/Shifter

Classification AU - Neutral

⬐――――――――――――――⊣

[Fic] In Loving Memory...

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[tf2yall]

Ranking the tf2 mercs on how well I think they'd babysit

Scout

4/10

On the one hand he'd feed your kid exclusively fried chicken and soda but on the other he's actually paying attention to them unlike SOME of the people on this list

Scout honestly isn't that fond of kids but for whatever reason they seem to like him. As soon as he realizes that women think it's cute, he'll start actively volunteering to babysit. He is a little confused as to why they think he's the kid's big brother and not their father though...

Soldier

-100/10

Oh my god no do NOT leave Soldier alone with a child. He's already given them a rocket launcher before you can turn around and jesus christ soldier no-

Unfortunately, Soldier thinks he's great at babysitting and if you ask him once he will never stop offering again

Pyro

8/10

Pyro's actually one of the better mercs to babysit. They love all sorts of childish activities and will play with the kid as long as necessary. Just make sure to remind them not to get out the 'bubbleblower'

Love their new playmate and will always offer again and again to babysit

Heavy

10/10

Heavy grew up taking care of his little sisters when his mom was busy so he's got a lot of experience. One of the few mercs that will actually remember to feed the kid. Won't run around and play with them though. He's too afraid that he'll hurt them

Babysitting reminds him of his family and while he won't explicitly offer, he makes it clear that the invitation's open

Demo

0/10 or 10/10 depending on how drunk he is

If Demo's sober he's a great babysitter. He keeps them entertained with stories about Scotland and mythical creatures. If they're a little older he might teach them a little bit about chemicals. Unfortunately, drunk Demo can barely take care of himself and you'd have been better off just leaving the kid alone

Demo wouldn't volunteer to babysit again but he'd be touched if you asked him to

Engineer

2/10

Okay, I know everyone in the fandom has decided Engie's like the team dad and he's great at cooking and taking care of people but hear me out, okay? Engie reminds me of my grandfather, who'd just crack open a beer and watch his grandkids climb on the roof. Engie insists that he did an excellent job. He watched them, after all. Watched them climb and subsequently fall right out of that tree. He tells you it's good for them. Next time they'll know better, won't they?

Engie will offer to watch them again and is a little offended when you refuse

Medic

0/10 or 10/10 depending on your opinion as a parent

He is actually paying attention to them, which is a good start. Unfortunately, he seems to think medical textbooks make good bedtime stories and that helping out with surgeries is a good activity for kids to do. He taught them some anatomy though... So yay?

Will happily offer to babysit again

Sniper

7/10

Sniper doesn't really like kids but he's not an asshole jesus, he'll do it if you really need him to. At first he doesn't know what to do with them but eventually they get him talking about his life and his experiences in Australia. The kid thinks he's cool as shit and Sniper actually ends up having a better time than he thought he would

Sheepishly volunteers to babysit again. He's not bad at babysitting, but do you really want a man that throws his own piss at people looking after your kid?

Spy

0/10

Don't get me wrong, Spy's great with kids. He's actually responsible enough to feed them and keep an eye on them and keep them entertained. However, the kid reminds him of Scout. He manages to keep it together until they're returned to their parents, but immediately after he's retreating to his smoking room. Are you happy? You made him cry

Will not offer to babysit again. Please do not ask him

[mammonshuman92]

- Watched - Pt.4

(Mammon x GN!MC)

** TW: swearing, kidnapping, religion, abuse, blood, death (if I missed any I do apologize!)

He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.

“This may call for a more extensive purification.”

-

Your heartbeat quickened, breathing becoming slightly erratic. Your eyes widened at the scene laid out before you, but you tried your best to hold your resolve. 

Whatever he plans to do, even if this is where your time on this Earth comes to an end, you didn’t plan to give him the satisfaction of conforming to his insane, backwoods ideologies. For your most beloved demons, and the love of your life, you were ready to fight until the bitter end.

After leaving the coffee shop, Mammon made his way back to your house to come up with a plan. As he rushed back, he got a brilliant idea and immediately made a phone call. 

Given their status and connections, he was sure that at least a few of his brothers would be able to dig up info on this Alex dude and the ATA, however he couldn’t risk any of them finding out what was going on, for fear it’d get back to Lucifer, so he had to be extremely careful.

“Ugh, what do you want, Mammon? I’m in the middle of a raid right now.”

Levi seemed like the least likely to get too curious and ask questions, especially since Mammon was the one asking. No way would Levi want to end up being part of one of his usual schemes. And since he rarely comes out of his room or socializes with others, Levi was definitely the best one for the job. 

“I need a favor.” Mammon could hear the slight clacking sound of Levi’s controller in the background.

“Nope. No way. Your “favors” always end badly; for everyone involved. Goodbye.” He declined immediately, wanting to hang up and get back to his raid.

“Wait, Levi! It’s real important!” The second born begged. Levi could hear the desperation; the emotion in his brothers voice. His interest was piqued now, along with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“What is it?” He asked with a sigh, casting his controller aside.

“I need ya to dig into a group called the ATA.”

“ATA?”

“Yeah, it’s the “Anti Treaty Association”, they’re in the human world. And see if ya can find anythin’ on a guy named Alex who might be associated with ‘em.”

“Anti Treaty..? As in the peace treaty? Mammon, what did you-”

“I’ll explain everythin’ later, okay? Just.. please, Levi? I need ya to look into it.” The level of sheer desperation in Mammon’s voice was concerning, but he didn’t push the issue.

“Okay, okay. Hang on..” 

The sound of Levi’s fingers rapidly clicking across his keyboard flooded Mammon’s ears for the next few minutes.

“Okay, so the group was founded not long after the Devildom exchange program was formally announced. They started small but grew in number quickly; looks like mostly religious extremists. They hold protests at any event involving relations between our world and the human world. Let’s see..” Levi  went quiet for a few seconds as he scanned his monitor.

“It looks like some of the members have a clean record, aside from a couple parking tickets, but there are a few bad apples. Most of the charges consist of harassment, disorderly conduct and destruction of property, all of the incidents taking place at protests. All of them were first time offenders, and have stayed out of trouble since then.”

“Anythin’ about an Alex?”

“Hmm, nope. Do you have a last name maybe? Or literally any other info? I can’t do much with just a first name, especially a common one.”

“Umm, he drives a really old car and he works at a take out place as a delivery driver.” Mammon proceeded to give him the name of the restaurant.

Levi began tapping away on his keyboard again, scanning all the social medias and websites associated with the group and the take out place, looking for anything related to the clues Mammon gave him. Without much to go on, he wasn’t very hopeful and began to lose courage, then he finally got something.

“I got a hit on a few social media accounts related to the ATA. I was able to find some pictures with a crappy older model car in them that were taken at some of their protests a few months back, one of the pictures had a shot of the license plate. After doing a quick search of public record, the car came back as registered to a John A. Smith, who actually died a few years back..” 

Mammon sighed, feeling dejected. That information was all he had, and it may not have even been enough to be helpful.

“Wait..” Levi suddenly said, pulling Mammon from his thoughts.

“His obituary says he had one child; a son named John Smith Jr. I can’t find him on social media under that name, but if we assume the middle initial “A” stands for say, Alexander, then I may have something. I found an Alex Smith, and it’s honestly gotta be him. He’s a member of the official ATA group page, and several others like it. His profile picture has a crappy looking car in it, granted it’s mostly cropped out, but it looks a lot like the one I ran the license plate number on. I’m confident that this is your guy.”

Mammon felt like he could breathe a little easier. Another piece of the puzzle had, hopefully, come together.

“Where do I find him?”

“Not sure. His last location was near the middle of nowhere, but it hasn’t pinged anything for quite some time. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

“Thanks, Levi. I owe ya big time.”

“Yeah. Uh, Mammon? I know you said you’d tell me later, but is everything alright? You’ve never asked me to do something like this before. It kinda feels like you’re looking for someone..”

He waited for his brother to stutter out some kind of excuse to explain it away like he always did when he got himself into some kind of trouble, but he didn’t. Which only made more red flags pop up for Levi.

“If anyone asks, especially Lucifer, this never happened and ya haven’t heard from me, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay, Mammon..”

He didn’t like the feeling he had, the gut instinct and the hair that stood up on the back of his neck that told him something was seriously wrong.

After he hung up with his brother, he decided to dig a little deeper. He traced Mammon’s phone and found him at a location nearby the restaurant he’d had him research. His awful, suspicious feeling was confirmed when his brother’s location came back as one in the human world. A little extra digging of public land records and it pinged as your house. His heart sank as he thought about the urgency and desperation in his brother’s voice. 

He traced your phone, but it just showed the same location as Mammon. But, if you were there, why would he be so frantic? His stomach churned when he realized that there were only a few things that would cause Mammon such distress, and seeing as how he was apparently in the human world, at your house, desperate to find some random dude, it couldn’t be good. Whatever was going on definitely involved you. That thought alone made him sick to his stomach.

“I hope I’m wrong. Please be okay, MC.”

-

*bzzz* *bzzz*

Mammon opened the new text message from Levi, which contained the coordinates to Alex’s last known location.

“MC has gotta be somewhere near this location. If not, maybe I’ll be able to pick up their trail.” 

He was pacing around the living room, going over possible plans for his next move. Thankfully it would be dark soon and there was also a pretty big storm rolling in, which would provide the perfect cover for him to scout from the skies. Heavy wind and rain would make it nearly impossible to pick up your scent though.

He went into your bedroom to retrieve something of yours that would be heavy with your scent, like your favorite jacket or maybe a pillowcase. As he looked around the room, he spotted a strip of pictures shoved in the frame of the mirror on your dresser. A warm smile spread across his face.

It was of the two of you, not too long after you’d officially started dating. He remembered that particular day very well. You’d decided to walk the cobblestone streets of the Devildom, much like you often did together, but this was different. There wasn’t anymore of that “trying to pretend neither one of you had feelings for the other” junk. It was just..real. You were actually his. He reminisced about how warm your hand felt in his, the way his stomach erupted in butterflies when you looked at him with pure excitement after you’d stumbled upon the photo booth. The way you threw yourself at him, locking your lips onto his for the last picture; the shade of red your cheeks turned when you pulled apart.

That day was one of his favorite memories of you. You were so happy and full of life; looking at him with such excitement and love.

The haunting reality came creeping back in on him, sending his beautiful trip down memory lane, spiraling into despair. There he stood, alone in your bedroom, while you were gone. Taken, by some psychopath. His whole world, snatched right from underneath him as he sat down the hall.

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. How could he? He should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have let you answer the door. He should’ve done something, anything. 

“I knew somethin’ didn’t feel right, and I should’ve listened to what my gut was tryin’ to tell me. This is all my fault..” He ran his finger over the pictures on the mirror, letting a few tears escape before aggressively wiping them away. 

“I will find ya, MC. And I promise that I’ll make ya safe again, I swear it.”

He felt a sudden vibration in the floor followed quickly by a deep rumble from outside.

The storm’s comin’. It’s time to move.

He grabbed the shirt you had worn the day before from the hamper and quickly smelled it to make sure your scent was strong enough. From the way it made his heart twist in agony, he was sure it would do just fine.

He shifted into demon form and headed straight for the door. With the approaching storm, it was dark enough now that he could fly and remain unseen. Since he was by himself and up against the unknown, having the element of surprise would come in handy.

“When I find that piece of shit, he’ll understand why I hold the rank of the second strongest of the Avatars.” He growled into the dark of the night as he stepped out onto the front porch.

With that, he shot up into the night sky, stealthy and silent.

-

“Extensive purification? Is that what the body bag is for?” You asked audaciously.

Naturally, you were scared. This mad man kidnapped you at your own damn house in broad daylight and drug you to what you could only assume was the middle of nowhere to tie you up and torture you. So yeah, you were pretty fucking wigged out to say the least.

But, did that mean you would back down? Let him know you were scared so he had the extra control over you? Make him feel like he was winning?

Absolutely not. You’d never give him the satisfaction. On the inside you were shaking, writhing in terror; begging for Mammon to come and save you. But on the outside? You were taking none of his shit, and playing zero games. If you were going to die here, you planned on going out as uncooperative as you could. Fuck him.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” He turned around to face you from where he’d been at his make shift work table, with the taser in his hand. He closed the gap between you, keeping his eyes locked on yours, and leaned down until he was just inches from your face. “The night is still young though.”

“Then why not just kill me now? Get it over with.”

“I want to cleanse you; save your soul.” He said, as if you were crazy for not grasping that concept.

“But why? Why are you so worried about my soul? You prodded.

“Because you have chosen to lay with demons and abandon your humanity.”

“And? Who I choose to love and spend time with isn’t yours, or anyone else’s business.” You snapped back.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. Your part in all this; the exchange program, being close with a bunch of high ranking demons; you as a human are committing the highest level of treason by aiding in the progression of uniting the realms. You are opening the door for corruption, chaos and sin to pollute our world.”

You laughed lightly in disbelief.

“When has our world ever been free of any of those things? Do you honestly think the Celestial Realm would be part of the treaty if He wasn’t on board with it? Stop blaming others because you’re close minded. Your blatant hatred for others is your fault, your sin. No one else’s.”

His face turned red and his expression changed into one of anger at the mention of Him. He stormed off toward the work table.

“And by the way, none of this-” You wiggled your fingers around as best as you could in an attempt to gesture around you, “is free of sin. Pretty sure He would frown upon this. Maybe even more so than my relationship with his sons.” You couldn’t help but smirk at your own jab.

He turned back to face you, bible in hand and quickly walked back to where you were hanging, and knelt down into your face again.

“It’s time to begin.” He said with sick, sadistic smile on his face; ignoring what you’d said.

With one quick movement, he lifted you off the giant hook your hand restraints hung from; letting go of you when you were a few feet from the ground, slightly knocking the wind out of you. Although you were being a little mouthy, you still felt pretty weak from being trapped inside that trunk. Not to mention that your shoulders were killing you from being suspended for so long.

He pulled you across the concrete floor by the hand restraint, stopping once he reached the stock tank. He opened up his bible and laid it on a little table near the side of the tank. He picked you up easily and climbed into the water. Even with as hot as it is, the water was frigid. It was only about four feet deep, but being restrained and unable to move freely, you would easily drown if Alex didn’t keep hold of you.

He stood at your side, facing you with his hands firmly grasping your arms right below your shoulders. He started reciting scripture from memory, glancing back at the open bible a few times for reference. He began to repeatedly dunk your head below the surface of the icy water. He recited the same passages over and over again, making it easier for you to figure out when to hold your breath. Although, a few times he seemed to hold you under a little too long, leaving you gasping for air when you returned to the surface.

When the never-ending baptizing finally did come to an end, he plucked from the water and returned you back to where you had been suspended. You were shivering uncontrollably and your head was pounding. No doubt from lack of oxygen after having to hold your breath, then gasp for air more times than you could possibly count. The added weight of your dripping wet clothes added to the searing pain in your shoulders.

He went over to the work table and grabbed the big jar of water you’d seen earlier. He dipped his fingers in it and flicked it at you whole reciting scripture. You assumed that it was holy water.

As you listened to him drone on and on, you found it hard to stay conscious. You haven’t really felt right since getting out of that scorching trunk; you most likely had heat exhaustion.

“Does being saved from eternal damnation bore you?”

“No, just you.” You replied weakly, looking up at him and trying to muster a smirk.

“Is that so?” He challenged.

He abruptly turned around and went back to the work table, returning a moment later sporting the thick work gloves you’d seen earlier, carrying the taser in his hand.

“Then I suppose we need to take it up a notch.”

-

Mammon went straight to the coordinates Levi sent him, but found nothing except dirt roads and cow pastures. Even from an aerial point of view there wasn’t much to see. After circling the area several times, he landed atop a tree in a densely wooded area. Although it was pretty dark out here in the middle of nowhere, far from civilization, he still couldn’t risk being seen as Alex could be watching; waiting for him to come for you.

“Where are ya, MC?” He quietly asked aloud, eyes continuing to scan the darkness that enveloped his surroundings.

With every passing minute his heart grew heavier, his chest tighter. It felt as if he couldn’t breathe properly. As cliche as it sounded, you were his literal heart; his entire world. 

Before you came to the Devildom, he thought he had it all figured out. Stealing and gambling, partying every night, spending money like there was no tomorrow, making shady deals with witches. He was living what he considered the luxurious life of a high roller and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Then you came along, and he was forced to be your guardian or sorts and look after you. It was such a pain. You made it harder for him to give Lucifer the slip so he could go on gambling binges and live up to his title. But, being the weak, magic-less human you were, you needed constant protection.

It didn’t take long before being your protector became something more than what he was ordered to do. He needed to be the one to watch over you, the poor helpless human. His human. As soon as he got a taste of what it felt like to be around you, he couldn’t get enough. He was hooked. 

Your smile and the sound of your laughter, the face you make when you’re concentrating or how you pooch your lips out when you’re getting irritated. The never ending kindness you showed him, especially when he was less than friendly at first. Even during those early days, just simply being near you brought him a sense of peace and warmth. The energy you radiated was intoxicating. Before he realized what was happening, he was a lost cause; completely wrapped around your finger.

If someone were to have told him he’d end up completely smitten with a human, he would’ve called them crazy. The Great Mammon would never waste his precious time on something that didn’t involve Grimm and how to obtain and/or spend it, much less a human. Smitten is precisely what he was though, to say the least. Not that it bothered him in the slightest.

He’s been around for thousands of years, and never once has his heart beat the way it does now. He’d always known love because of his siblings, and even the great loss of a loved one when Lilith died. While he would move mountains and do anything for his family, and even lay his life down for them, the way he felt about you was completely different. He would do all those things for you as well, and so much more. You knew him on a different level, a way no one else ever had in all his existence. 

Relationships were never really his thing. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings, but most of them only cared about what they could get out of being with the Avatar of Greed, not that it really bothered him. He pretty much only got involved with people when the bitter loneliness became too much to bear. Love isn’t typically something that happens for demons, not that he was looking for it anyway. But, sometimes it was nice to have someone to hold, to feel the warmth of another. Even if he didn’t remember their name. Not that they, or he for that matter, really cared.

Which is why he was so perplexed by the feelings you stirred up inside him. He was one of the strongest rulers of the underworld, who could probably have any succubus he wanted, so why was he becoming increasingly enthralled by you? A completely ordinary human. Or so he thought, anyway. No ordinary human would’ve been able to knock him off his feet the way you had. You were special. You made him feel.

You were kind, warm, headstrong and funny. You’d even put your own life in danger to save those who were much stronger than you, like that time with Beel and Luke in the underground tomb; not because you thought you would win the fight, but because it was the right thing to do. He’d never witnessed such bravery, such selflessness in a human. Especially not when it came to protecting a demon, someone who would be deemed unworthy of such an act simply because of what he was. This once weak, irrelevant human, was now one of the people he respected most. You’re undying love and kindness for others was one of the infinite things that made him fall for you.

He clutched your shirt tightly in his hand, bringing it up to his face and burying his nose into the fabric. He breathed in your scent, filling his lungs as much as he could. He needed to keep the smell fresh in his mind, in hopes of picking up your trail. Tears began to prick his eyes. All the memories of you were nearly too much to handle. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t.

He had no idea what this freak had planned, but he knew it couldn’t be good. The clock was ticking. The more time that passed, the harder it would be to find you. He looked out into the night again, hoping to see anything that might point him in your direction, but there was nothing. The only sounds came from the cows in all the pastures around the area, and a very faint humming noise off in the distance. He couldn’t see any signs of the car or any other clues, but he refused to give up.

“Alright, MC. C’mon, talk to me. Where are ya?” He said, getting ready to take to the skies once more to scan the area. Then it hit him, sending a shiver down his spine. He whipped his head to the right, and breathed in deeply.

MC!!

He took another long breath in, to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. It was definitely your scent. It was very faint, and muddled with something else, iron maybe? But there was no doubt it was yours. Like a shot, he flew in the direction your scent was coming from. The incoming storm was making it hard to stay on the trail, but he was not going to lose it now. He was almost there. Almost to you. There’s no way he was backing down.

A minute or so later he could see the faint glow of a light in the distance. It looked like it was coming from a barn or something. Your scent was getting stronger and stronger as he closed in on the building.

That’s gotta be it!

He landed on top of the building with a thud; coming in a little faster than he intended thanks to the increasing intensity of the storm. He paused a moment, waiting to see if his brilliant entrance had caused any kind of movement. When he didn’t hear anything, he moved to the edge of the roof to have a look around. There was a lot of overgrowth around most of the building, and some spots in the roof seemed to give a little. If he wasn’t careful he might end up crashing through the ceiling. It wasn’t a barn, but more like a warehouse or something.

He walked the perimeter of the roof, looking over the side for any kind of clues. There was nothing out front, and the sides of the building were all overgrown with vines and other greenery. He peaked over the side of the roof near the back of the building and tensed. He could see the car that matched the description of Alex’s, hidden underneath loose foliage in what looked like a poor attempt to conceal it. 

I knew it He thought, his heart beginning to race.

He remembered seeing an industrial ventilation fan on the side of the building before he landed, and quietly rushed over to it, crouching down slightly on the maintenance access platform. 

By now, the storm was raging full force. The rain was coming down in sheets, the thunder booming as lightning lit up the night sky. The fan was pretty rusted but thanks to the thunder, he was able to crack open the slats slightly without being heard. The sight he was met with made his blood boil, prompting him to let out a guttural animalistic growl that rumbled deep in his chest. The iron smell mixed with your scent he’d smelled earlier, was blood. 

Anger like he’d never felt before burned deep inside his very being worse than the raging storm around him, truly making his demon side come out. He never had any intentions of letting this psycho walk away from this, but now it was going to be a lot less humane. The witch’s words came rushing back to him.

‘Bring me the heart of a mammal, not of our world, that thrives on malice and sadism. If you cannot fulfill your end of the deal, I will place a curse on you until the ends of eternity that will make everything of value you come in contact with turn to ash.’

Mammon smiled viciously. Looks like he’d be able to fulfill his end of the bargain with the witch after all.

-

The “cleansing” quickly shifted from that of something considered somewhat normal, to something very far from it. Nothing about it could be considered holy anymore.

“Are you going to denounce your demonic pacts and sinful ways and conform?”

You lifted your head weakly to glare at him, “Never.” You snarled between staggered breaths. His face twisted in anger.

Blow after blow landed on your weak, fragile body. You spit out yet another mouthful of blood, the wet sounds echoing in the large room as it splattered onto the floor. Needless to say, you were in pretty bad shape.

Blood ran down your face from a laceration on your brow bone. Your lip was busted pretty bad and you had at least a few cuts inside your mouth from your teeth puncturing the skin on your cheeks and lips. You assumed you had some ribs that were at least cracked seeing as it had become pretty painful to breathe. All the spots he tased you in burned like fire, no doubt blistering up badly. He’d held it in the same spot for so long that you could smell your own hair and flesh burning.

There wasn’t much you could do in the way of fighting back, but you sure tried like hell in the beginning. But now you were way too weak, barely even able to scream out in pain. You’d already come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn’t make it out of here. The reality of never seeing Mammon again swarmed you, tearing away the last bit of resolve you had left. You forced yourself to remember all the time you’d spent with him, making sure he was the only thing you thought of as you began to slowly depart from this world.

You would forever be grateful for the time you had with him and all the amazing memories you were able to make. Movie nights, staying up too late talking and laughing, trying and failing to hide from Lucifer after pranking him.

The way his too big of a hand completely engulfed yours, the way he looked at you when you were both all dressed up for some fancy party at the Demon Lord’s castle and how much he tried to hide his face so you couldn’t see his blush while he held you close on the dance floor.

Sneaking into each other’s beds when one of you had a nightmare, the way his body felt against yours when he cuddled you; his warmth and smell. The way he tried to hide his enormous smile and pink cheeks when you’d gush like a groupie over his newest spread in a magazine.

The time he was a flustered, stuttering mess for three entire days in the beginning of your relationship, unable to hear your name or see you without turning various shades of red because every time he did, flashbacks of loving you for the first time just days before came rushing back to him.

Those intimate moments were your favorite, for more reasons than the obvious. You got to see him in a different light. He was still his usual goofy, lighthearted, prankster self, but he was so much more than that too. He was so sweet it could make your teeth rot. He was gentle, slow. You could feel the love leave him, his heart pouring over into yours. There were always stars in his eyes; pure adoration. Something you could never quite grasp; how someone who had seen the literal heavens could look at a normal human like you in such a way; with such breathtaking awe.

You always felt like you didn’t deserve to be loved by someone as amazing as Mammon, but you would always be eternally thankful. In such a short time he’d brought so much happiness and light to your life. As happy as those memories were, you wished more than anything that you’d get the chance to make more, but sadly it didn’t look that way.

As Alex was coming in to land another blow, a loud thump could be heard from above you; his fist stopped in the air a few feet from your face.

“What was that?” He questioned to himself quietly. He stayed silent for a moment as he listened for more noise, but there was nothing. “Must’ve been thunder.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to you, pulling the taser from his pocket.

“It really is a shame that you refuse to comply.” He said as he jabbed it into your ribs, causing you to use what little fire was left in you to cry out in pain. “You really were a fine specimen, until you wasted yourself on demons.” Another jab of the taser, this time on your thigh.

You choked out a weak, raspy laugh. “And I’d do it again, a million times over you sadistic, psychotic freak.” You spat, voice breaking. He reared his hand back to hit you, but was interrupted by another loud noise, this time near the entrance. 

He turned toward the sound and decided to check it out this time, picking the knife up from the table on his way. He was only gone for a few minutes, but you were grateful for the break. As much as you didn’t want to give up, your body just couldn’t take much more.

He slithered back through the entrance, soaked from the down pouring rain and complaining about hearing things.

“If you didn’t have a guilty conscience, you wouldn’t be so paranoid.” You said between several pained breaths. Your voice was small and frail, but you still managed to lace some venom in your words. He snarled, storming toward you and sticking the knife under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. You used what energy you had left to glare at him.

“It’s too bad really, that even in your darkest moments, your last moments, what’s-his-name wasn’t here to save you.” He snickered, tracing the knife from your chin to your jugular, applying just enough pressure along the way to coax out a small line of blood.

“That’d be The Great Mammon to you, human.”

Alex whipped around toward the entrance at the sudden voice, the color draining from his face as a look of sheer terror washed over him.

“M-Mammon?” You choked out, a massive lump forming in your throat. You looked around Alex, the most beautiful yet terrifying thing coming into your field of vision.

It really was him.

Seeing him in demon form was nothing new to you by now. However, the look on his face was something you’d definitely never seen before. It almost looked as if there was an aura around him; a definite shift in atmosphere at his presence. His natural sin was Greed, but right now he embodied Wrath. 

It was so easy for you to forget that he really was a demon, as you’d never seen him in such a state before. The sight of him now; raw, malevolent power seeping from him, the low guttural growl, emitting such a heavy, nightmarish presence. He was scary. Even to you.

“MC..” There was pain in his voice; his face distorting in agony when he looked at you.

He charged forward, only making it a few steps before Alex swooped in. He got behind you, reaching around and keeping the knife at your throat; Mammon froze.

“Not another step.” Alex warned. “I have no qualms with spilling the blood of a traitorous demon whore that turned their back on the human race.”

Mammon stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst into laughter. It wasn’t his normal, happy laugh. It was dark, and oozed ill intent. He turned his attention to you once more, his expression softening just enough to not utterly terrify you.

“MC, do you trust me?”

“Since my first day in the Devildom.” You smiled fragilely, noticing the way his mouth briefly tugged up at the corner when your words reached him. He locked his eyes on Alex once again, dark expression returning.

“Close your eyes. No matter what you hear, don’t open them.” He instructed as he slightly crouched, getting into an attack stance; you nodded in agreement, doing as he said.

You could hear Alex huff behind you. “I will slit their throat, or did you hear what I said you filthy, abomina-”

He was silenced mid sentence by a sudden impact that jostled you slightly where you hung. You could hear gasping breaths and Mammon’s same sadistic laughter as earlier, followed by several ear splitting cracks and tearing sounds as Alex screamed out in pain; wet, squelching noises and heavy thuds rang through the room as several things hit the floor. It went on like this for several minutes, until the screams finally ceased.

You pretty well knew just by the sounds, that you were finally free; that psycho would never be able to hurt you again. 

Moments later, you were lifted off the large hook and being cradled gently in arms that you knew all too well. Mammon sank to the floor, his wings wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the gore you didn’t need to see.

“MC..” He whispered, tears running down his cheeks as his eyes scanned over your frail, broken body.

As much as you wanted to savor the moment of finally being safe, once again in the arms of your demon, the reunion would have to wait. You had been through so much and your body couldn’t take any more. You began to fade in and out of consciousness, no longer able to hold on.

“MC..? MC! Stay with me! Please, please hold on just a little longer.” He begged, his voice cracking as he patted his hand against your cheek gently. You tired to put a hand on his cheek to soothe him, but your arm fell limp halfway to his face as you lost the fight to stay awake. You heard him yell your name a few times as you drifted, his voice fading away slowly.

-

What is that infernal noise?

You had suddenly become hyper aware of an out-of-the-ordinary noise somewhere close by. An alarm clock perhaps? No, it was more of a beeping sound than a shrill ringing.

You lazily opened your eyes, immediately regretting it and squinting them shut because of a blinding white light that was shining in your face. You blinked several times as you tried to adjust.

As you scanned the room slowly, it started to look as if you were in one of the rooms in the Demon Lord’s castle, but it appeared to be set up as a hospital room of sorts. The blinding light was coming from one of the big lights they use at the dentist office. You soon discovered that the beeping noise you’d been hearing was actually one of several monitors you were hooked up to. 

Everything started to fall into place and make sense, memories coming back of the events that brought you here. The monitor closest to you started to sound an alarm, indicating your heart rate had picked up and your blood pressure was rising. Seconds later the door flew open, a figure rushing into the room.

“MC.” He said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Barbatos moved to your bedside and silenced the alarms, opting to check your vitals himself.

“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing his index and middle fingers to the underside of your wrist, checking your heart rate.

“Fine, I guess?”

“You guess?” He repeated, taking a small light from his pocket and shining it in your eyes, checking the dilation of your pupils.

If you remembered correctly, which you’re very sure you did, your injuries were extensive. There’s no way you could forget that level of pain. You felt tired, kind of groggy from sleep, but there was no pain.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About three days.”

Three days?! You thought to yourself, a little shocked.

That’s still not nearly enough time for your wounds to heal. You must have looked as confused as you felt, prompting and explanation from Barbatos.

“Your injuries were rather extensive, so Mammon brought you here after rescuing you. Lord Diavolo had the best doctors in the Devildom tend to you with magic. Although they healed you perfectly, you weren’t showing any signs of waking up just yet, so we decided to keep you here to monitor your condition.” You nodded along in understanding as he spoke.

He placed the light back in his pocket and moved away from the bed. “I shall notify Lord Diavolo and the others that you have awakened. Please excuse me.” He said as he bowed, then left the room.

You sat up in the bed and criss crossed your legs, careful not pull out your IV or tangle any of the wires to the other monitors. You let out a long, heavy sigh. Before you could be consumed by your thoughts of all the memories of the last few days, the door to your room flung open once more. This time, it was the one person you wanted to see most.

“MC!” He shouted, voice cracking with emotion. Mammon crossed the room in an instant and sat in front of you on the bed.

“Are you okay? Do ya feel any pain?” He asked frantically, his eyes scanning your face then darting to the monitors, hands hovering over you as if he wanted to help but was unsure how. You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. It seemed to calm him a little.

“I’m okay.” You assured him. Although you’d been put through the wringer, you felt so at peace. Not only were you in the safest place in the entire Devildom, but the one thing that threatened your peace of mind, was now no longer a problem.

“I-I uh, I was scared.. that I was too late. That ya weren’t gonna wake up, that I’d...that I’d lost ya..” He confessed, voice catching in his throat as tears fell from his eyes. He carefully scooped you up and held you in his lap, holding you as close as he was able to with all the wires and such. You sat up a little and snaked your arms around his neck, pressing your lips firmly to his.

While you were held captive, you had been so sure that you’d never get a moment like this with Mammon ever again. You were happy beyond words to be back in his embrace once again with his lips on yours. Smelling his wonderful scent, and feeling his warmth on your skin.

After a few minutes of your lips moving in synchronization, he broke the kiss, and pulled back to look you in the eye. A serious expression washing over his face. “MC, I’m sorry I didn’t-”

You held up your hand to stop him, “No, Mammon. You’re not going to blame yourself. I won’t let you. Everything that happened was his fault, not yours or anyone else’s. He was sick in the head, with a twisted ideology.”

He nodded, “I know, I know. It’s just..” He shook his head as he tried to choke back more tears that threatened to spill. You knew exactly what was running through his mind.

“Mammon, there is no one else in the three realms I’d rather trust with my protection, than you. As a matter of fact, there’s no else that can even compare to you in my eyes. As I already said, none of this, none of it, is your fault and I’ve never once thought it was. I love you, Mammon and there’s no one else I’d rather entrust my life with, or spend it with for that matter.” You placed your hand on his cheek and smiled at him, tears now streaking your cheeks. He leaned into your touch, his hand resting lightly on top of yours for a moment before pulling your hand away and placing several light kisses on your palm. 

Barbatos returned soon after, with a doctor in tow. Once they unhooked you from all the monitors and removed your IV, Mammon took you back to the House of Lamentation where everyone was awaiting your return.

It felt so good to be back. The HOL was technically your second home, but nowhere has ever felt more like home than here in the Devildom, surrounded by all your favorite people. And thanks to Lord Diavolo extending your stay until further notice, you were on cloud nine.

Although all your physical wounds were gone, the mental ones were sure to stick around for awhile. You expected as much though, having gone though quite a traumatic experience. Although, it made it a little easier knowing that Alex would never again be an issue.

It was clear that his soul wouldn’t be fit for the Celestial Realm, and you had fears of him being reincarnated in the Devildom and finding you once again. But, Mammon quickly laid those fears to rest, informing you of what he’d done that night after getting you safely to the Demon Lord’s castle.

He said he preformed some kind of ritual that ensured Alex wouldn’t be reincarnated anywhere; his soul having been wiped from the worlds. As if he’d never existed. He also mentioned something about Alex helping him to fulfill his end of a bargain with a witch. He didn’t really go into detail about the whole thing, but assured you that everything would be fine, so you didn’t push the issue. He’s a high ranking demon, after all. This surely isn’t his first rodeo. You were just ready to start the healing process and put an end to this awful chapter in life.

And with Mammon by your side; loving you, protecting you, helping you heal; you couldn’t think of a better way to begin such a beautiful new chapter.

~ fin ~

[bullyhunter--69]

You're all I have, Bird Brain

Pairing: Big Brother Hawks x Little Sister Reader

Summary: You have to sit back and watch your brother fight for his life on TV, hoping everything turns out okay

T/W: descriptions of a fight and crying

A/N: I got this idea while doing my makeup and rushed to write it because I loved it so much-- I hope you guys enjoy! 🖤

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

A frantic knock on your dorm door took your attention away from the anime you were watching on Netflix, causing you to quickly get up and swing it open. Before you could greet whoever happened to be interrupting your binge watching, something wrapped around you with a worried whimper. Dark Shadow..?

"(Y/N), you need to come quick to the common room, Hawks is in a bad fight-" It was Tokoyami, and his voice matched the whimpers coming from Dark Shadow. They were the only ones out of your whole class who knew the full truth about you, and that's only because Hawks had scouted the both of you to his hero agency for the internships class 1-A had done. You had sworn Tokoyami and Dark to secrecy easily, the trust built between you 3 was something anyone could see.

Everyone could see why the now number 2 hero chose Tokoyami, but many were confused why you were scouted as well. The explanation you gave was, "Maybe he just likes my quirk? That's all I can think of." In all reality, you knew exactly why.

He was your big brother and loved you to death, and you were super ecstatic to work under him.

Your love for him wasn't unknown, your friends just thought he was your favorite hero. You had so much merch of him that Izuku's All Might collection was almost surpassed, and you were always seen in a Hawks hoodie.

The aforementioned Hawks hoodie is exactly what you had on now as you basically threw yourself down the stairs and onto the common room couch, right beside Kirishima and basically on top of Bakugo. The blonde was about to yell at you until he saw the tears already streaming down your face. The scene playing out on the TV in front of you was terrifying.

This absolutely gigantic Nomu was tearing into Endeavor and Hawks, regenerating after every blow the number 1 and 2 pro heros landed on it. It was talking-- strategizing against them. This was unlike any Nomu any hero had fought yet and your brother was one of the only 2 heros on scene.

Hawks had already lost a majority of his feathers from saving citizens and aiding the flaming hero at his side, and it was obvious that Endeavor was reaching the end of his fire power too.

Your entire body shook as your hands clasped themselves tightly around the red feather necklace you wore every day. It was one of Hawk's actual feathers- something Keigo gifted you once you got accepted into UA to show how proud he was of you. He could still control this one, but he never did since he viewed it as yours now.

Everyones eyes shot to you as a struggled gasp left your lips and you moved to sit on your knees in front of the couch. Hawks got hit, hard. He fell onto the top of the nearest building, next to no feathers left on his back. He was barely moving and his glasses were busted in half, his coat ripped up and forehead bleeding.

"K-keigo.."

Your eyes were huge, still streaming tears down your face. The fight your brother was putting up for his life had your attention fully captured, so when a hand was placed on your shoulder you flinched and finally let a sob out. You hadn't heard Aizawa enter the building, coming to check on you and Todoroki.

"(Y/N), it's gonna be okay." Aizawa pulled you into a tight hug as you continued to sob, fingertips numb from grasping at the feather so tightly. Finally, when you turned your blood-shot eyes back to the TV, Endeavor gave a final hit to the Nomu. He blasted it to pieces and was finally coming back down from the sky.

You were tense and silent until you saw both heros were being guided towards separate ambulances, your breath heavy as the cameras cut to just Hawks. He was talking to a paramedic and a police officer, beaten and bloody but alive.

When the officer was done with his questions, Hawks was seen pulling his phone out and calling someone. The news reported commented out of curiosity that it could be a lover, and everyone in the room around you besides Aizawa and Tokoyami assumed it was to contact his agency-- but you knew exactly who it was.

Your phone started to ring as soon as the pro heros phone touched his ear and you jumped for it at lighting speed. At this point, everyone was beyond confused.

Mineta made a joke about you having an affair with the hero, which was quickly cut short by a punch from both Kirishima and Bakugo. After the purple perv was silenced, nobody dared to say a word as all eyes fell on you.

With shakey hands you hit the green accept button and held the phone to your ear, small sniffles still escaping you. "K-Keigo, please tell me you're okay.."

Nobody could hear the voice on the other side of the phone but when you finally took a deep breath and used your sleeve to wipe your tears away, they assumed everything was okay. You continued your conversation for a minute before a loud laugh was heard from the other person on the phone, and this seemed to set you off.

"Keigo Takami, you know what I've ALWAYS said about using up all of your feathers in battle! It's not funny!"

This confirmed for your classmates who was on the other line, but not why you were the person that the number 2 hero had chosen to call.

"Just tell me what hospital they're taking you to, Bird Brain, and if it's the same one they're taking Endeavor to as well so I can let Shoto know. I'd rather beat your ass in person than over the phone for that ridiculous comment you just made-- Hey, shut up, I'm tired of always hearing about how great of a job Endeavor did when you almost got yourself killed!"

You had stood up at this point and were getting your shoes on, moving to the kitchen after your laces were tied.

"Just.." A groan left your mouth as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "Please, be careful next time, Kei. I dont know what I'd do if something really bad happened to you. You're all I have, Bird Brain."

You collected up some snacks and drinks in a bag from the common room fridge, as well as some cookies Sato had made earlier that day for everyone to take to him. You knew Keigo hated hospital food.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes, dont to anything stupid before I get there. You'll have more than just some missing feathers to worry about if you do. I'll see you when I get there. I love you Kei, bye."

At this point, all eyes were glued to you as you now stood in front of Aizawa and the entirety of your class. Your eyes landed on Shoto, though. "Sho, your dad is at the same hospital Hawks is at and I'm heading over now. Would you like to join me?"

Todoroki was stunned, to say the least. His, as well as everyone else's, minds were running a million miles an hour trying to figure out what had just happened on the phone between you and Hawks.

"He's in room 203, and as far as Keigo knows, He's not in horrible condition. Just really worn out with some wounds that wont take very long to heal. It more so took his energy than anything."

Your attention turned back to Aizawa and before you could even ask, he was already nodding and had placed his hand on your shoulder. "You can go see him, just be safe. We dont know if there's more of those Nomu out there and you saw how big of a fight Endeavor and Hawks had to put up. Call us if anything happens."

You gave Aizawa a big hug and a thank you before practically sprinting out the door.

Aizawa turned to his class as they sat in shock, Todoroki being the first to speak up. "Why did-" He was cut off by his teacher, who had his arms crossed as he surveyed everyones faces.

"Put it all together. 1. (Y/N) got in by recommendation. 2. (Y/N)'s last name is Takami. 3. He scouted her without her having bird like powers similar to Tokoyami. 4. (Y/N) is also always talking about him. Its obvious, Hawks is her big brother. I thought you all knew already."

Tokoyami spoke up before anyone else could. "I knew, but she didn't want everyone else to know. She didn't want to be known as just his little sister. She wanted her own name out in the world."

This caused the class to quietly talk to eachother about how it all made sense, and questioning others about if they had known. Aizawa walked up to Todoroki and laid a hand on his shoulder like he had done to you prior. "You're welcome to go see your dad if you'd like. Like (Y/N) said, He's in room 203 in the nearest hospital."

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

[kritzkrieg-kiss]

how would the mercs react to scout being able to slay the drums? like, my boy is Herman li levels of talent. since one of scout's taunts is a bongo set, it makes sense if he could play a real drum set, too.

That's funny, I had like a week-long obsession with Herman Li when I was 8. After that week I forgot he even existed until today. Anyways,

Scout can slay the drums like nobody's business

-To help support their family, Scout's oldest brother dropped out of high school and got a job playing drums in a big band. The company gave him a small jazz set to practice on.

-As a young kid, when Scout was curious or just felt like bugging his brother, he would pick up the sticks and start messing around.

-At first his brother yelled at him to get off, he couldn't afford to ruin these drums. But then, just for a second, he stopped and listened.

-Good lord. The boy had talent. Even just noodling around he had more rhythm than Bunny Berigan and his Boys in a metronome factory.

-Scout was allowed to practice on his brother's drumset under the condition that he 1. Not chew on the sticks and 2. Not break anything. He would run home from school to practice during lunch, it was the only time during the day that no one was home and he could be as loud as he wanted.

-His Ma even tried to get him lessons once. He met with a teacher one time, hated everything about it. He didn't wanna learn how to play in Dean Martin's orchestra, he wanted to have fun and be crazy, to play what he wanted to play.

-Well the years went on and one day he realized he needed a job. He decided to finally swallow his pride and audition for a few swing orchestras. But even with a brother in the business he couldn't find his own little nook in the industry. With a heavy heart, he tucked his skill in his back pocket and started searching elsewhere.

-Fast forward several years, he's now a mercenary. The team took a small field trip to downtown Teufort for supplies (Soldier ate all the butter). It was a hot summer day and the local music store was having a sidewalk sale. Sure enough, right outside the door sat a secondhand set of drums.

-A toothy grin spread wide across Scout's face. He casually swaggered up and sat down on the little stool. He took off his black cap and threw on the ground next to him. Immediately, everyone began to voice their objection. They tried to get him off the things but were quickly cut off by a '1-2-3-4' clicking of the sticks followed by a tidal wave of rhythmic talent. It was like they were watching Frank Zappa drumming to save his own life. People were staring. They started coming in from all around. Scout's cap filled in a matter of minutes. The team were stunned, maimed even. Where the heck did this come from? How did they never know about this? Why would someone as cocky as Scout never tell anyone?

-This went on for about 20 minutes until Scout started to get bored of it. He stood up and picked up his cap, there was $203.67 and 4 phone numbers in it. He loaded it all into his pockets.

"Nah nah, calm down." He said with a wink and a smirk. "I don't do autographs."

The others would've teased him back and put him in his place if they weren't so busy picking their jaws up off the floor.

Yeah I see it. If this isn't canon yet, it should be. Hope you enjoyed it 💛

[prettylilhalforc]

Hey friend! @disgruntledspacedad here. Saw you were looking for some prompts, and I’ve been in a Frankie sort of mood. How about an epic splash war in the pool? Bonus points if there’s a steamy kiss at the end. 😘👀

Lovely to meet you, btw. ❤️

Hullo glikaki mou! Pleasure to meet you too!

Absolutely love Needy, the pining is pure perfection.

Thank you so much for sending this through. Had an absolute blast writing this prompt!

Kudos to @lorecraft for her Santi works - Issues and Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

Couldn't help but tie this fic to that AU.

As always, would love to hear your feedback and feel free to send forth any corrections!

This is a massive fluff/slice of life piece that gets a little spicy at the end. Tried to make this as blank slate as possible.

Echoes of You

Summary: A slice of domestic bliss leaves Echo longing for our favourite soft boy.

Warnings: Language, Pregnancy, Inferred reference to past infertility, reference to divorce. Spicy messing about in the pool. Most likely M, please no minors (18+).

Length: 2.5ish k

The summer sun is hangs low in the sky.

In of spite this, it’s absolutely sweltering.

You swear that you’ve all but melted into the puddle on the veranda. The cool glass of your beer held against your temple in a desperate attempt to find some respite from the heat.

Yet it does nothing to abate the humidity, thick and heavy, clawing at your skin.

Whose brilliant idea was it to hold a barbeque right in the height of summer anyway?

Oh, that’s right.

That would be you. You’re the idiot. It was your stroke of genius to instigate annual Delta crew cookout at Santi’s new abode.

Claimed it was only fair as The Millers and yourself were holed up in apartments while Fish was out in the sticks.

Not that Santiago minded, you were practically family anyway.

Ever since basic, Pope was the closest thing to a big brother that you had. Both of you had stuck through training together, scouting skills pretty much on par. ‘Cept Santi was a little more trigger happy. You were far more methodical in your approach.

Or as he liked to call it, anal retentive.

Despite that, the crew had christened you Echo, because you were always the first to follow Pope's lead. There was no one else who you trusted with your life more.

Well, almost no one else.

Over the years, the seven of you had forged a friendship in the heat of combat. To this day the bonds remained as strong as ever.

Not in a million years would you have imagined that one Santiago ‘Can sleep through the middle of a fucking warzone’ Garcia would have found marital bliss smack bang in the middle of suburbia. Two story, five-bedroom Duplex complete with a manicured lawn, impressive backyard and pristine, glass fenced in ground pool.

Good to know Lorea’s money went to good use.

What was equally astounding was the fact that Pope could now be found in said backyard with a ridiculously cheesy “kiss the chef” apron trying to start the BBQ while wrangling a tyke.

His tyke.

Who was currently running rings around his father.

The kid is the spitting image of Santi. Complete with wild locks and trademark devil may care grin. And all the mischief of his mother. No wonder the guy has more salt than pepper in those curls these days.

‘Suppose it’s payback for all the reckless shit that he’s pulled out in the field over the years.

“¡Fu-Marcus, no toques eso! It’s hot! See? Ouch!” Santiago snatches out, reflexes still lightening quick, stopping the kid from touching the gas cylinder.

Big, brown eyes begin to well. A wail shortly follows.

“I’m sorry mijo but you gotta go inside, Dad’s trying to cook dinner. Ve con tu Madre.“ , Santi grouses, trying to wrestle the now tantruming toddler inside while keeping an eye on the grill at the same time. In all the years you’ve known Pope, you’ve never seen him this exasperated.

Hard to imagine that 4 years ago things went to hell in Colombia.

” Lucky, hermosa! Can you please come and grab your son before I set my damn beard on fire?!”.

A voice bellows dramatically from the kitchen, “Oh no Pope, not the beard! What am I going to hang on to for dear life now?!”

You try to smother a snort while taking a pull from your beer. You fail.

God love that woman. Lucky was the only one nuts enough to put up with Santi’s moody ass. Her explosive energy had managed to break through that thick skull. That and her endless patience. Or was it sheer stubbornness? Whatever it was, the pair of them were just as crazy as and for one another. And ever since the brawl in Botoga, they weren’t exactly quiet about their affection.

Poor neighbours ain’t gonna know what hit ‘em now the Garcia’s were in town.

“Christ, Luck, yell it out for the whole street to hear, why don’t you?”, he hollers back, unable to completely suppress the grin creeping across his face.

“Kinda got my hands full in here guapo. Echo, can you bring me my little hurricane and give us a hand?”, she calls out from the kitchen bay window.

“On it, Luck!” you groan out, skin peeling from the warm plastic as you heft yourself up.

In three strides you reach your de-facto nephew. Swooping your hands around Marcus’ tiny torso, you heft the kid up high and set him on your shoulders.

He shrieks and squeals in glee, small hands clutching fistfuls of hair, trying to find purchase. Damn the tyke has a strong grip. You wince while Pope barks out a laugh.

“Know what that is, Echo? K-A-R-M-A. Karma.”, he smiles wryly, waving the spatula at the pair of you.

Hitching Marcus securely on your shoulders, you stick your tongue out and very maturely blow a raspberry. Marcus follows suit.

“Come on Marky, there an ice block in fridge with your name on it”, you chime tapping the toddler’s nose, the Garcia’s bundle of mayhem now perched on your hip. Santi shakes his head and chuckles

“Thanks Echo.”, he states warmly, pulling you into a one-armed hug before turning his attention back to the barbeque.

Stepping through the glass sliding door, a sigh of relief escapes you, practically moaning at the blessedly cool A/C. There’s another sight that you’d wouldn’t have thought possible. Lucky, barefoot and 6 months along, in the midst of a massive kitchen. Complete with black marble countertops and island bench.

“Almost better than sex, hey Ek?”, she shoots her trademark smirk.

You scoff as you begin to rummage through the freezer, “Wouldn’t know Luck. Last time I got laid was… shit, I can’t even remember. We all can’t be as fortunate as you.”, gesturing to her condition.

She throws her head back and cackles, roughly chopping ,“Well, there’s a certain someone coming tonight that I’m sure would gladly remedy that… situation.” Voice dropping an octave.

“As if El! After everything he’s been through with the divorce and custody for Bella, that’s gotta be the last thing on his mind right now. Doesn’t need this mess on top of all that.” You shoot back, hand blindly grasping for the promised treat.

While Santi may be as good as your brother, Lucky was your partner in crime. The two of you rose hell while on tour. Not a soul was safe from your antics. Got you both into trouble more times than you could count on both your fingers and toes.

Late nights on the Registan. Sand whipped and half frozen. Drunkenly confiding in one another your hopes, dreams, and deepest desires. Both pining after men who you couldn’t have. Something the pair of you swore to take to your graves. War left little room for romance.

Just like Lucky to have the actual balls to act on her feelings, though.

Rolling her eyes, Lucky just clucks her tongue, stepping away from the kitchen counter. Hands now braced on her lower back she huffs., “It’s been over two years ago, Echo, cut the bullshit.”

Refusing to meet her eyes, you peel the wax paper open. A devious grin spreads across your face while handing Marcus the ice block. Bright red, sticky gloss smears across his chubby cheeks.

Good luck trying to get the kid down tonight.

“So, when’s the rest of the crew going to get here? I’m starving!”, you groan, stomach growling in agreement.

Right on cue, the doorbell chimes, Lucky waggles her eyebrows, “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” She holds out her arms, making a grabbing motion towards Marcus,” Swap ya? Mind taking over kitchen duty while I greet the rabble with this one?”

Palming the tyke off to his mother you can’t help but smile at the pure domesticity of it all. Well earned after decades of violence and adrenaline. Pulling at your heartstrings a small, selfish part of you yearns for the same.

It’s bittersweet.

Lost in your own thoughts, you’re caught unawares, encased in a bone crushing bear hug. You yelp as you’re lifted you off the ground, dropping the colander full of pasta in the sink.

“Ekkie! Long-time no see!”. Benny cries out.

“Yield, I yield!”, you squeak attempting to wriggle from his iron grip.

“Jesus, Benny, put Echo down! You saw her last Tuesday night, moron.”, the taller blond chuckles, yanking his younger sibling off you before bringing you in for a gentler hug.

There he is.

Francisco Morales. Catfish. Frankie.

While life may not have been kind to him over the past couple of years, it certainly didn’t show. The man looked healthier than ever. Silver streaks through the patchwork scruff of his beard. Mussed brown locks covered by that trademark cap.

And the sweetest fucking smile.

“What? No love for me, Echo?” Frankie playfully quips, arms folded across the broad expanse of his chest.

Those warm, mocha eyes that never fail to leave you breathless. You could get lost in them for hours. Tonight, there’s an unusual intensity behind them that shoots right down to your very core.

God, even after all these years he still made you weak at the knees.

Smiling softly, you playfully shove his side before embracing him for slightly long than necessary. As his strong arms wrap around you, tightening for just a fraction of a second. Cedar, bay rum and leather. It takes all your will power not to bury your nose in the crook of his neck and trace your lips up the column of his throat.

“No Bella?” , you ask.

“Nah, she with Nance tonight. It’s her cousin’s wedding and Isabelle is on flower girl duty.”, chest practically puffing with pride as he pulls away.

There it is, that thousand megawatt smile never fails to make you melt.

Santi hollers from the veranda, “Chow’s ready, lets go!”

All of you groan in unison. You can take the man out of the army, but you can’t take the army out of the man.

The four of you move with military precision, falling into the familiar ritual. Will’s got the glassware, Benny has the drinks while Frankie and yourself cart the fare to the table.

Dinner is an easy affair. Conversation flows easily. Benny providing a blow-by-blow commentary of his last bout for the four hundredth time, despite that all parties at the table were present. Lucky laments the sheer highway robbery of current HOA rates. Santi is absolutely besotted by his son, proudly flicking through his camera album.

Silent as usual, Will happy just to sit and bask in the atmosphere.

Catching up after what feels like an age you’re practically glued to Frankie’s side. He’s settled in his new digs and started at a mechanics not 5 clicks away from home. The place is a fixer upper, given him plenty to do on his off weeks. Isabella is thriving at school and he finally managed to get his licence back.

The two of you are so wound up in conversation, that you miss the knowing look the rest of the group share and Benny’s shit-eating grin.

By 7 pm, Marcus starts to grizzle, poor little guy fighting hard to stay awake and remain with the excitement.

“Come on mijo, lets get you to bed.”, Lucky coos, gently cradling the toddler in her arms, humming softly to soothe the babe. It’s plain to see how smitten Pope is in that moment.

Pure adoration written plain as day across his face.

Rightfully so, neither one of them ever expected to have one kid, let alone another on the way. It’s the least that they're owes them after everything life has thrown their way.

With Marcus soundly asleep, the party continues on.

Beers and baby monitors poolside.

Lucky abstains, choosing to dip her feet in the water, muttering something about being a beached whale with Pope copping a face full of water after proclaiming “But, honey, you’re my beached whale.”

Yawning almost obnoxiously loudly, she remarks loudly at how late it is. Lucky shoots you a glance. Now’s your chance, don’t fuck it up. It takes Pope a minute to cotton on before he follows suit.

Will retires shortly after, dragging Benny behind him grumbling about having to be up first thing for to prep for his next bout.

It’s near midnight and the two of you remain, sat under the stars, legs dangling in the tepid water.

Frankie has definitely filled out since sobriety. The man looks healthy. Not that you have been sneaking glances at him at every opportunity.

Tales soon turn to the hijinks from glory days gone by, both of you swapping combat training horror stories from your time in basic.

“- He just wouldn’t shut up about how all he wanted was for you to crush him between your thighs. Seriously, the guy was obsessed. Went on about it for a whole week before Pope threatened to neuter him. Can’t say I blame the guy, though. Would have been exactly the same if I were in his position.”.

“Francisco Morales!” you clutch at your chest in mock indignation, “How dare?!”

“What?! It’s true! Fuck, after that display how could I not?”, he exclaims hands raised defensively, lips loosened after a handful of beers.

Biting your lip, you tuck your head against his chest in embarrassment, your face blazing.

“Haven’t upset your delicate sensibilities, have I Echo?”, his voice drops and octave, laugh sinfully wicked.

Emboldened by the recent revelation, you raise your head and lean in. His breath hitches in his throat, brown eyes almost blown black. Licking your lips, you’re now almost so close you can almost feel his soft whiskers brush against your face.

With a giant shove, you launch him into the pool with a resounding splash. Frankie flounders before re-emerging from beneath the water, sputtering. Absolutely bewildered.

Eyes glinting with mischief, you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, you’ve gone and done it now, cariño!” He growls, launching himself towards you. In one swift motion, you’re hauled back into the pool with a yelp. It’s your turn to flail ungracefully.

The two of you playfully tussle, water splashing everywhere as you battle for supremacy. Frankie is not above playing dirty. Bastard knows what spots to tickle to dissolve you into a writhing mess. Managing to wriggle free, you dive underneath the water, kicking off to the other edge of the pool.

Those warm brown eyes are now molten with desire. Positively predatory as he stalks towards you in great strides.

Heart thundering in your chest, you’re frozen on the spot. Heat coils in your belly.

Slotting between your legs, his thick arms caging you. Eyes fluttering shut, a small whimper escapes your lips.

“Echo.”, Frankie rasps, capturing your lips softly. Over a decade’s worth of yearning poured into that single kiss. Filled with such reverence and longing, as if you would dissolve right before his very eyes if he were to dare to even breathe. You gasp against him, trailing your hands up the plains of his chest running your tongue along the seam of his mouth.

And with that the dam breaks. Broad hands snake their way across your body, one curling at your hip with the other buried in the base of your hair. Frankie practically devours you, teeth nipping at your kiss swollen lips.

Fuck, why didn’t he do this years ago?

Panting, the pair of you come up for air. Resting his forehead against yours, Frankie whispers sweet praises.

“Hey Frankie?”, you murmur against his lips, his moustache tickling your

“Mmm, hermosa?”, he hums, resonating deep in his chest.

“Been years since I’ve sparred, but I think I still remember the technique. Wanna help me out?”

‐--------------

Ve con tu Madre - Go to to your mom.

------------------------------------------------------------@just-here-for-the-moment @disgruntledspacedad @blueeyesatnight @anaaaispunk @yespolkadotkitty

[ramblinganthropologist]

Crossed over

Summary: Garrus has something to tell Shepard before they get down to pound town. Same hat, though? Same hat.

(I wrote this originally for pride but didn’t finish it in time. Yes I am 100% pulling this out of my ass, but who cares. My city now.)

---

Shit.

Garrus’ heart was still racing as the door to the main battery shut in front of him. Only moments prior, the Normandy’s commander had been standing there, chatting with him. Well… chatting wasn’t really the right word. Propositioning, maybe? That felt more on the face plate to him, but it just sounded so salacious for something coming from the man people had dubbed humanity’s boy scout.

He didn’t know what a boy scout was, but he was fairly sure they didn’t make suggestions like that…

“I guess I need to… ask Mordin about this.”

His hand hesitated on his omni-tool before he could make the call. The salarian would be good for positioning and allergic warnings, but he didn’t need that at the moment. That wasn’t going to quiet the frantic racing of his heart. He needed somebody else for that, someone he was still on shaky terms with.

But he needed someone would listen and not need a million clarifying questions…

His talons typed in the familiar number, and it was soon sending out the request. Thanks to being so close to a mass relay, it would go through no problem. Well, that and the fact Cerberus had souped up the Normandy’s communication system in several definitely off the market and illegal ways. Though that really wasn’t his problem anymore – he hadn’t been part of C-SEC for over two years.

Just… old habits die hard he supposed.

The call took a few seconds to connect, but he soon heard the sounds of Palaven on the other end. Garrus felt his stomach drop as he realized just how late it was on his homeworld. No doubt he had woken up the other party from a deep sleep – that was strike two for him before he had said a word.

Strike one, naturally, was going off on Omega and becoming a mercenary who took a rocket to the face. She was still mad about that.

“Garrus?”

Solana sounded tired. He could hear her shifting on the other end, no doubt because she had been in bed and fast asleep. Guilt swarmed in his stomach, but his resolve pushed it away. As the humans said it, in for a penny in for a pound.

And boy, he was going to get a pounding…

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The humans of the Normandy would’ve never noticed it, but no doubt his sister had already picked up on just how frantic he sounded. Right then, any turian within a couple hundred yards probably could’ve picked it up. Hell, a passing ship might have even gotten the hint if they hadn’t been in FTL drive. But he tried anyway – he had his pride in the end.

“Uh, hey, Solana. Sorry, I realize it’s late and all, but- “

Right then, he could imagine her mandibles twitching in annoyance, but also the gleam in her eyes that gave away just how curious she actually was. After all, he wasn’t the call home type. Never had been really, especially after their mother had passed. It just sort of got pushed to the back and they caught up when they could.

“Gar, you’re freaking out so loud the humans are going to hear it. You’re not dying again, are you?”

Hey, that had been a one-time deal. It wasn’t like he had a habit of taking rockets to the face or anything…

Garrus took a deep breath to steady himself once more, and he allowed his body some respite by dropping it onto the cot he kept in the battery. Sure, he probably could’ve had a bunk elsewhere – but that would’ve been with humans who had no problems working with Cerberus. As the object of his anxiety would’ve put it, taco was good out there.

He still didn’t get that – what did food have to do with displeasure? Humans were weird…

“I’m fine.” His mandibles twitched. “Just… had a talk with Shepard.”

Solana’s subvocals were curiosity city as she leaned in. “The big one or the dead one?”

“He’s not dead anymore…” Garrus’ voice trailed off. “And the little one, yeah.”

On the other end of the line, he heard his sister chuckle. “What, did you two have a fight about calibrating or something? That’s not exactly something to call me over, Gar. He’s not going to kick you off the…”

Her voice trailed off, no doubt because she had put the pieces together. He felt his stomach squirm as he waited in the pregnant silence, knowing the ball was going to drop any second. Really, this was the last thing he wanted to tell her…

“Please tell me you told him before you two fucked.”

Garrus’ mandibles almost let him lift off the ground as he jumped to his feet on instinct. “We haven’t… not yet. We were just… he made suggestions. I think we’re going to eventually, once we both put some research in. Kind of hard to smash a turian and a human together and all…”

His voice trailed off, realizing just how awkward he sounded. Really, the logical side of him knew he was being ridiculous. It wasn’t like he was a virgin like Shepard was. There were a few lovers in his past, so for the most part he knew what he was doing. It was just… well, humans were odd.

Solana’s voice was steadier the next time she spoke. “So… you’re planning to fuck your CO.”

“Yes, I know, I’m a walking stereotype.” The embarrassment could have choked a krogan. “Honestly… I don’t even know why I called. I just…”

His sister finished for him. “You’re worried about how he’s going to react if you tell him, because you’re planning on filling him in.”

Garrus was left standing there in the battery, mandibles almost to the bottom of his neck. He had no idea what kind of vocals he must’ve been giving off then, but they had to be something. After all, Solana wasn’t making fun of him. When it came to his love life, she loved nothing more than doing that. It was some older sister commandment: thou shalt pick on thy little brother for his terrible interest in people.

So… yeah.

“Gar?”

He shook his head. “Yeah, I guess that’s it,”

Solana shifted a pillow on the other end. “He’s a medic, right? He’ll at least understand it that way.”

Enough interaction with medical staff had taught Garrus that didn’t mean a whole lot of anything. Besides, he wasn’t looking for a checkup, this was practically starting… something. And maybe that’s why his stomach shifted so badly at the thought of it as he glanced around the battery.

Shit…

“I mean… do they even hold classes on that outside of turian occupied areas?” He sighed. “It’s easier with us… I don’t know how a human is going to feel about it.”

His sister’s subvocals shifted to something that reminded him of when he had been smaller, and she had stood by him on the playground. He was bigger than her now… but something about it was oddly comforting. It was also kind of embarrassing, but he was going to take what he could get at the moment.

“Well, if he starts shit, tell him to count his days.”

Despite his anxiety, Garrus found himself chuckling. “You’re really going to threaten the first human Spectre?”

“He died once; I can make it happen again if he hurts you.” The certainty in Solana’s voice was a strange comfort then. “Seriously, if he has a problem with it, then he’s an ass and he’s not worth it. Not your fault he’s a dumb human who doesn’t get what it means.”

Another chuckle – he knew when he had lost a fight. “Thanks, but I think I can handle it. Besides, you’re kind of on Palaven.”

Not that that meant anything – piss Solana off enough and she’d find a way to show up.

“Lucky him.” Solana let out a yawn that helped Garrus know their call was ending. “I mean it, Garrus. If he says anything…”

He found the knot in his stomach loosening as he sat back down. “I’ll send you our coordinates.”

“That’s my little brother. Now, get the hell off the line. I gotta get up for work in 4 hours.”

Well, love you too…

Still, Garrus let his sister go and the battery lapsed into silence once more as the call ended. He could hear life on the other side of the heavy door as the crew went about their duties, but right then it didn’t matter. He had made up his mind over the course of the call, so now he felt more resolute.

Was he still terrified? Absolutely. Humans were fucking unpredictable. After all, who else launches out of a mass effect field and starts fighting with the first sentient species they meet? They had a species wide death wish or something…

But that didn’t matter then. Now it was time to figure out what he wanted to say. And at least he had time for that as he waited for the big gun in front of him to show him some data.

---

A few weeks later, and there he was. Garrus shifted from foot to foot as the elevator door opened and let him out. He had been to the top of the Normandy before, enough that he knew the layout. Past that door was the object of his anxiety, waiting on the pretense of a talk about what they were planning.

Maybe it had been a while since he had last had sex, but he definitely didn’t remember that much thought put into it before. Was it because he was getting older, or because his partner was a squishy human?

“That you, Garrus?”

Shepard’s soft voice carried through the metal. Something about it always set the turian’s heart beating a little faster. In those moments, he found it hard to talk. So, in the end he just stood there like an idiot.

This was going great, clearly.

Thankfully, Shepard wasn’t a stupid man. His head appeared through the open door, checking to make sure he was ok. Today he had his hair pulled behind his head – he was fairly sure he called it a ponytail – and out of his face. No doubt he had been working with Saren. The hamster had full face privileges at pretty much anytime. And yes, he was jealous of a hamster for that.

So sue him.

The words brought hm back to life. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, guess I was more tired than I thought.”

The Spectre smiled at him as he motioned for Garrus to follow. Just as the turian had thought, he had been working with his hamster. From the looks of things, it had been a deep clean and a cage change if the shredded bedding meant anything. No doubt the man in charge of it all had been cleaning it up when he had come calling.

“What’s Saren got this time?”

Shepard gestured to the cage as they moved past his desk towards the sitting area. “I went for an under the sea theme. It seemed appropriate; he is living in the old fish tank system.”

That would explain the sunken ship half buried in the substrate. He had to hand it to the human, he really knew how to spoil his pets…

Together they sat at the table, Garrus positioned so he could just see Shepard’s unmade bed in the background. It was so close, but it felt like lightyears away. He was supposed to get on that eventually with the Spectre…

Talk about nearly giving himself a heart attack.

“Anyway, you wanted to talk about …”

Shepard’s voice dropped and his cheeks turned pink. Humans called that blushing, and it was pretty noticeable on the ones with light skin. It usually turned the Spectre krogan rampage red if he got going, so things weren’t too bad yet. He could work with this.

Still, Garrus felt tense as he gazed over at the human. At least both of them were nervous about this, so he didn’t feel completely stupid. In a way, that was helpful as he tried to find the words he had practiced for a week.

Naturally, they had abandoned him at the sight of those blue eyes. He was a sucker for blue…

“Yeah. There was something… I needed to tell you.”

His talons tucked against each other as he tried to keep from looking at the human. “Just so we both know what we’re getting into and all.”

“You’re not allergic to human body fluids, are you?”

Shepard was so matter of fact in his tone that Garrus felt himself chuckling without meaning to do it. Leave it to the Spectre to find a way to relax him without consciously attempting it. Maybe that was his real superpower – the biotics were just a fun perk.

But yeah… maybe he could do this.

“No, I’m good there.” Another deep breath. “Just uh… I don’t really tell people this. None of their business, and most non-turians wouldn’t get it anyway.”

At that, Garrus paused and checked the sight in front of him. Shepard was watching him, analyzing him maybe. He had stopped nervously tugging at the end of his ponytail, and his hands were in his lap. From the looks of things, he had the Spectre’s undivided attention.

No pressure.

“Something up, Garrus? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t- “

He held up his hand. “No, I feel like I should. We’re getting kind of… close.”

The tension rippled across his carapace as he felt it on the tip of his tongue. “Do… you know what it means to be crossed?”

At that point, the translating function on their omni-tools went haywire. Whatever Shepard normally heard when it worked, he definitely wasn’t getting it then. At least the man hadn’t winced at the sound of him untranslated. That was probably a good sign for cross-species relations if there ever was one.

“Sorry, the translator didn’t pick that up. I got something about a mix up?”

Well, half points for trying.

Garrus nodded as he tried to pick his words carefully so they would translate right. “Something like that. You know we believe in spirits, right?”

When Shepard nodded, he continued, stomach churning all the while. “Well… sometimes the spirit and the body it’s in have a disagreement about… things I guess.”

Disagreement was putting it mildly, of course. Garrus would’ve rather called it an all-out war in his early teens when the bad feelings were at their peak. Now it was mostly quiet – thank you, modern medicine – but sometimes it still whispered in his thoughts when he least expected it. His spirit was a tricky one like that, no wonder he had lasted so long on Omega.

But… yeah, he was getting away from the awkward conversation he was having. That was probably a bad coping mechanism left over from being a merc.

Shepard still seemed tuned into the conversation at the very least. “Ok… so your mind and body don’t… agree on something? Is that what I’m getting?”

“Pretty much. It’s not super common, but it happens.” His mandibles flapped as he tried to find the words. “There are ways of… making the spirit more comfortable depending on what way you need to go. Medical procedures help, but oftentimes one of the best ways is to just live the way your spirit wants.”

He had been 13 when his spirit had started acting up. That was a common age, though he didn’t exactly hang out with many crossed turians these days…

His shoulders still tensed as he snuck a glance at the human – hadn’t lost him completely. “I guess I’m trying to tell you… that I’m crossed. Not that it’s going to matter for us in bed, the hormone therapy has pretty much taken care of everything. I only have to take a maintenance dose every couple months…”

His voice trailed off. Shepard hadn’t said anything for a long time. Instead, the Spectre seemed to draw into himself. Something about that made Garrus’ stomach drop and almost instantly he regretted saying anything at all.

Maybe he was going to need Solana after all…

His voice was shaky when he spoke again. “Look, I get that it doesn’t- “

“So, you’re like the turian version of trans?”

Garrus blinked. The word was a new one, he had learned it from listening to the crew. Mentally, the translation ran through his head as he sat there, trying to remember what it meant. Something about gender?

What was that again, an ice cream flavor? He was kind of drawing a blank…

“Uh… don’t really get what that is, Shepard. You’re going to have to explain it to me before I can say anything.”

There was a glint in the man’s eye then as he nodded. “Basically, humans have a thing where their brain and body don’t match up. We can also fix it with medical procedures, but the best way is the same way you’ve got.”

The turian found himself nodding. “Guess that would be the human version of being crossed, yeah.”

In that moment, Garrus wasn’t sure what to expect as the pieces fell into place. It was Shepard, but Shepard was still human. More importantly, it was impossible to read how he was reacting then. His face was utterly blank as he sat there, staring down at his hands.

In the words of the Spectre… he should probably go.

Garrus could feel something breaking inside still as he stood. “I get it’s probably not what you expected. It’s ok… I just ask you don’t spread it- “

Those eyes were on him as Shepard reached out to keep him from going. “Damn it, Garrus, same hat.”

…

“Same…”

A wide grin broke out on Shepard’s face as he started laughing. “I think we’re in the same boat here if you’re telling me you’re on the turian version of HRT. Holy shit, talk about one hell of a relief. I thought you were going to say you were allergic to humans or something.”

The translation whirred in Garrus’ visor as he wordlessly sat back down. He had a full picture now, and it was one hell of a sight. The tension that had been vibrating across his carapace began to melt away as he listened to the human laugh, and soon he found himself chuckling as well.

Solana was never going to believe this.

“Nope, still not allergic to humans.” His mandibles twitched. “So… you humans do it too then?”

Shepard was still smiling as he nodded. “Yeah. If not for my biotics fucking everything up, I would’ve been on HRT too by now. But then you wouldn’t get to hear my lovely, squeaky voice cracking over the battlefield and who would want to miss that?”

“I wouldn’t…” Garrus’ voice trailed off. “Oh…”

Well, from the sound of things he hadn’t needed to worry. Maybe he didn’t need his older sister to come beat up his not-yet lover yet after all. His pride would survive for at least one more day at this rate.

Honestly, he felt lighter than he had in weeks. If not for the ship’s gravity, he might have been floating then. Then again, that might have been caused by Shepard’s quiet chuckles over all of this. Something about the man’s laughter always put him at ease.

“I can’t believe you thought I was cis, though.” The human had gone back to playing with the end of his ponytail, though from the motions it was less nerves and more something to do with his hands. “I would be insulted if you were human.”

Garrus felt his mandibles twitch. “It’s not like I know the difference, Shepard.”

“You literally saw my dick fall out of my pants, Garrus.”

…

Yeah, well… he wasn’t the medic, now was he? For all he knew, they were supposed to do that.

Still, at his silence Shepard just chuckled more. Surprisingly, he seemed lighter as well as he sat back. Maybe because of his own nerves, but he hadn’t noticed just how tight the man’s shoulders had been when he had entered. No doubt they had been worrying about similar things if there was that much crossover.

Something, something, communication made for happy relationships.

“Well, clearly we’ve got plenty of research to do if we want to do this right.” The human sounded much happier as he looked down at his always present omni-tool. “I mean… if you still want to and all. I understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

Garrus all but hopped to his feet. “No! I mean… no, I haven’t changed my mind. I’m just glad I know what to research. I think I was looking at the wrong vids…”

“Well, that makes two of us, unless you guys figured out a way to fix anatomical issues we’re still working on. Turian anatomy seems a little more straight-forward when it comes to genitals, what with everything being internal.”

…

You know, he probably should’ve found his anatomy being discussed in such clinical terms rather dry. Yet the fact Shepard seemed so relaxed about the whole thing was rather heartening. Maybe he was just more relaxed now that the bomb had dropped and he still had both of his mandibles.

He was glad for that – the implant surgery to fix him the first time had really sucked.

“I think you’ll be fine with whatever you’re looking at.” He let out a sigh of relief. “So… good talk?”

Even he knew that sounded awkward. Yet, the other man chuckled and nodded as he stood at last, pushing his ponytail behind his shoulders as he approached the turian. Apart from when they were getting shot at, it was probably the closest they had ever been.

“Yeah. Good talk.”

And then he smiled. “So, uh… I need to finish cleaning up from Saren. Unless you want to help with that?”

Garrus was already on his feet, eyeing the door. “I think I have some calibrations to get to down in the battery.”

Shepard’s cheeks briefly puffed out, but then he allowed a rather laid-back chuckle. “Alright, I get the idea. I’ll talk to you later, Garrus. Good luck with the calibrations.”

Luck – he certainly had a lot of that at the moment.

Garrus honestly felt lighter as he left the man’s quarters to return to his spot in the battery. The weight that had pressed down hard on his talons had evaporated, like gravity no longer affected him. It was a bit strange – the ship was set to adjust to that – but right then he wasn’t thinking like a tech as he rode the elevator back down.

All things considered, that had gone better than he had expected.

“Well… doubt Solana is going to believe this one. Who knew humans had it too…” he trailed off as the door opened to the crew floor. He let the matter drop for the moment, focused instead on getting back to work. After all, the Normandy was a big ship, and keeping her running was a heavy task he was more than happy to deal with.

Still… it was good to know they were on even footing. Maybe it wouldn’t go as badly as he thought it might. But he definitely needed to change his vids…

But he could worry about that later. A big gun needed some specialized calibrations if they were going to live another day. He could think about his sex life later.

[spaceskam]

From A Whisper To A Scream (7/10)

Summary: Michael caves.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: syringes, blood, etc

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

ao3

Coach pulled Michael aside after debatably the worst game of his life.

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded. 

Michael stared at him, blinking slowly as he tried to reorient his mind. Ever since he discovered that Eff was really a Manes, that this “family business” they had was torturing aliens, he hadn’t been functioning very well. It’d only gotten worse after Alex called him out and Michael couldn’t tell him no, suddenly having to balance a very hush-hush relationship on top of everything else. He adored him, but fuck. Now he was just paranoid and tired. That was it. Everything else, every other feeling or brain wave, fell to the wayside because he didn’t have the energy. 

That meant playing a shitty game of football where he nearly broke his nose from tripping over the ball.

“I’m just… off day,” Michael said, avoiding eye contact as he took out his mouthguard. He then moved to start taking off his jersey and his shoulder pads. He usually wouldn’t do that while in the middle of the conversation with his Coach, but they felt ridiculously heavy and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay upright with them.

“Off month, more like it,” Coach said, eyeing him, “You know you’re my responsibility, right?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” he said. Michael stayed silent. He couldn’t tell him what was actually going on and he didn’t have the brainpower to come up with a good lie. “Is this about anything that happened with your whole… coming out process? You’d tell me if any of the guys were messing with you, wouldn’t you? And if it’s your dad that ain’t responding well, then I can have a talk with him too.”

Michael blinked at him and it took him a few seconds to realize he had tears in his eyes. It wasn’t even a heartfelt speech, it was just too much. Too much to know another person cared about him enough to say something, too much to know that his list of people who would be hurt by his stupidity was a bit longer. He was beginning to think that maybe he should just tell everyone he was an alien so they’d stop giving a shit about him.

“It’s fine, I’m just off. Distracted,” Michael said. Coach didn’t look satisfied.

“You got scouts out there,” he said, “So you better stop being distracted.”

And that sounded a lot more like Coach.

When Michael walked out to his truck, he found that it was already preoccupied. It wasn’t too uncommon for him to find a Manes in his passenger seat. This just happened to be the Manes he was dreading.

“I thought you were good,” Eff said as Michael carefully climbed into the driver’s seat. It felt like a trick, but maybe he could drive off a cliff and fix everything. Ah, but that was just wishful thinking.

“I am,” Michael said, “Usually.”

“Guess you should’ve thought about that before you tried to corrupt my baby brother,” Eff said. Michael stared out the window and made a point not to say anything about how Eff had been screwing him over before he realized he was with Alex. He seemed to momentarily forget that this had all started because Michael was born. That was it.

“Shed?”

“Yep.”

Michael stayed silent through the drive as he had been these days. For a while there, he’d sort of accepted his fate and was starting to be a bit more talkative. Hell, he’d even gotten to a point where he thought Eff might give a shit about his well being. Now he knew that was just wishful thinking. Every conversation they had that may have given the illusion that Eff didn't hate him was just a figment of his imagination.

“Is your dad gonna question where you are?” Eff asked. Is yours? Michael thought.

“No,” he said instead.

Eff huffed a laugh, “My dad would kick my ass if I showed up later than I said.” It almost felt childish at that point, like Eff was trying to get him in trouble with his dad. It was so stupid.

The longer Michael drove, the more he thought that perhaps he shouldn’t be driving. His eyes were heavy and each blink seemed harder to come out of. Still, he somehow made it to the shed without driving off the road. 

They entered the shed in silence and Michael sat on his chair-of-hell where all of his injections and electrocutions took place. Maybe whatever Eff had in store would wake him up.

“Here,” Eff said. Michael lulled his head to the side to look at him, seeing him holding out an energy drink that had already been opened.

“Did you poison it or something?” Michael asked. Eff laughed softly.

“No, just drink it,” he said. Michael hesitantly accepted it and took a sip, deciding that if it was poisoned he wouldn’t really care. Eff sat down across from him and stared at him for a moment. Somehow, it was infinitely less uncomfortable than all the times Michael looked over his shoulder in school and expected to see him there when he wasn’t. “Look, I hate even saying this, but credit where credit is due. I appreciate you ending shit with my brother. Alex is great, I get it, and it took balls to break up with him when I know he probably didn't make it easy."

Michael felt a bit frozen in his spot. That was an understatement. Such a massive understatement that Michael hadn't been able to pull it off at all.

"I don't like knowing that aliens have, like, feelings and shit," Eff continued, looking to the side as if this conversation was just that unbearable. And he had no idea how unbearable it was for Michael himself. "But I do know you care about him which I can respect. But that shit's not safe, not with you being what you are and not with my dad being who he is. You get that, don't you?"

"Why does it feel like you're being nice to me?" Michael asked. He was beginning to wonder if he really had no self-preservation skills at all. Eff rolled his eyes.

"You just picked the wrong guy. I wanted to keep Alex away from all this," Eff elaborated, "So pick someone else."

Somehow, as genuine as he sounded, it still felt like a low blow. Michael couldn't pick someone else. Even if he had broken up with Alex, even if he never liked him in the first place, he was still a personal experiment for Eff. Anyone who got close to him wasn't safe. So that was that.

"Yeah," Michael said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Michael sipping tiredly on his drink and Eff just watching him like he was trying to decide where to start. Who knew what kind of shit he had up his sleeve that he hadn't done yet.

Eff eventually stood up in silence and Michael's eyes followed him, watching him open up the small mini-fridge and pull out a vile of something. Dread pooled in Michael's stomach. He wasn't sure what Eff had dosed him with that time where it had him fucked up for a solid week, but he wasn't interested in a repeat.

"When's the last time you slept?" Eff asked. Michael shrugged because he didn't have a proper answer. He slept all the time, but he wasn't sure the 10-minute sleep session due to sheer exhaustion before he woke himself up in a panic actually counted as sleep. "Yeah, that's a problem. This is gonna help you sleep."

"Here?" Michael asked, eyes widening just a little. 

"Does it look like I have a place for you to sleep? Take it and I'll take you home, it should kick in by the time you get to bed and it'll knock you out for, like, eight hours," Eff said. Michael didn't have the energy to say no. Sleeping for eight hours straight sounded amazing.

He turned his head as Eff rolled up his sleeve and wiped the spot of his arm like he was actually concerned for him. He stuck him with a syringe and Michael could feel the moment it started to set in.

"I'm driving," Eff said as if that wasn't already obvious.

Michael tried to stand to his feet, but he felt woozy and held onto the chair to steady himself. Eff eventually stepped up to him and grabbed his arm, carrying the brunt of his weight.

"Jesus, what did my brother see in you?"

Eff got him into the passenger side of his truck and closed the door and Michael couldn't find it in himself to care that Eff was driving his truck. He was just tired. 

The drive home passed in a blur and Michael felt himself being pulled out of his truck before he could even register it. He leaned on Eff without thought and let himself be all but carried inside and placed in bed by the man who had made it his goal to torture him. He was covered up and his keys were placed on his desk and the doors were all locked back.

Michael fell into a dreamless sleep for the first time in a long time.

-

The next morning, Michael was left running over the night before in his head. 

Truly, none of it made sense. Eff wasn't just empathetic like he'd been on occasions when he realized Michael had feelings, he'd actually been kind. Was it his small payback for Michael ending things with Alex? Was it something else entirely? He probably wouldn't get an answer.

Michael stayed in bed for a while, letting his mind torture him with too many thoughts as he tried to analyze Eff's actions. It didn't work. And, in fact, the sleep didn't help him feel any better. It just made him alert enough to be back to panicking. There were so many things that could and would go bad. He was on borrowed time. Before he knew it, shit would hit the fan and he just wasn't excited for that.

Sanders kept quiet, just watching him and making sure he didn't become a disaster before his eyes. The day slid by at an agonizing pace. But it was fine.

He texted Alex a little bit--through an app instead of on his actual phone which had taken more than a little convincing than he wanted to admit, but he wasn't about to risk Eff finding out.

Alex: you ignoring me again?

Michael: no, how could I?

Alex: big talk coming from you

Michael: :(

Alex: when can I see you? I feel like I've earned at least a couple blowjobs

Alex: payback for being a dick to me

Michael: I'll do whatever you want. Maybe we can meet up somewhere tomorrow night?

Alex: my dad isn't going to be home until Tuesday just sneak in

Michael: idk if that's a good idea

Alex: okay.

Michael: don't be mad

Alex: not mad, all I said was okay

Michael: which is code for mad.

Alex: okay.

Michael: I'll see what I can do. I miss you

Alex: I miss you too

And it was fine. Alex got a little less upset and it was fine. Or it was until he got a text from Eff. All it said was: Rest. Tomorrow is a full-day affair. And that was enough to scare the shit out of him.

He didn't know what classified as a full-day affair to Eff, but it didn't matter. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. It was going to be a day of misery. How many more things could he get through and survive it?

As much as he tried to rest, it didn't work. Michael was nervous and dreading whatever was to come. By the time morning came around once again and that car was outside waiting for him, Michael hadn't slept.

"Are you ready?" Eff asked as he mindlessly climbed into the passenger seat. He took a deep breath.

"Yeah."

-

"Michael. Michael, wake up."

There were very few times in Michael's life where he'd describe himself as overworked. Out of all of those times, he'd never drained himself to the point that he passed out. He supposed there was a first time for everything.

When his eyes slowly dragged open, he was more than a little surprised to see Eff over him and almost looking concerned. It almost had him laughing if he wasn't so disoriented.

"You can't fucking die on me yet," Eff said once he opened his eyes. Michael didn't move. His body felt weak and he was pretty sure his muscles had melted into the ground. He wanted to go home. 

"Sorry," he murmured.

"You've only been doing shit for a couple of hours, you've strained yourself more than this before. That sedative I gave you on Friday shouldn't still be in your system," Eff said. He grabbed Michael's arms and hauled him into a sitting position, but Michael couldn't hold his own weight up and Eff eventually let him lay back down. "What are you good for if you're just going to let yourself be this useless?"

Michael's eyes slid closed and he tried to think of anything except for this.

He expected more scolding, more yelling, possibly an injection of whatever sort of wild alien steroid he had today. Instead, Eff pressed the back of his hand against Michael’s forehead then to his cheeks. He might’ve opened his eyes to look at him like he’d lost it if he wasn’t so fucking exhausted.

“You’re overheated. Your nose bled a little, but not as much as I would’ve expected before you passed out, so I guess that’s a good thing. We’ll take a break,” Eff said, voice careful. He stood up and walked away, leaving Michael on the floor.

Sometimes, if Michael really thought about it, he wondered if Eff knew that he was basically making him stronger. Yes, draining him in the moment and making him feel weak and out of control, but Michael had never had someone push his limits before when it came to this. Maybe if Michael played nice, he’d be able to overpower him one day, hide the body, and get his normal life back. He could. It was an option.

It was an option. Huh. That was nice.

A hand grabbed the back of Michael’s neck, supporting him as he was dragged into a sitting position once again. That hand stayed there as a cup of water met his lips and he was all but forced to drink. He had a million questions running through his head, all tying back to wondering why the hell Eff was treating him nicely all of the sudden. Maybe he actually felt bad for once. Probably not.

“If you die, my brother will probably be more upset than he already is, so I’m gonna need you to drink,” Eff said dryly. Michael obeyed.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Eff let him rest for a short amount of time before dragging him outside again to push his limits again. A little electrotherapy here, a bit of pinpricks there, and he had Michael throwing shit with his telekinesis over three hundred pounds. Michael would’ve been proud if his body wasn’t aching and his brain wasn’t pointless.

When he finally got to go home and the day settled in, Michael was back to being a mess. Eff was being nice to him. Too nice. He was planning something, he had to be. Was he going to kidnap him anyway? Was this just the beginning of the end, trying to make him trust him?

Michael forgot all about meeting up with Alex until he found himself outside his window which would’ve been a lot less worrisome if he remembered anything in between leaving the shed and ending up there. Even when he tried to remember, he couldn’t. 

“I thought you said you didn’t want to come over,” Alex said, leaning against the windowsill and blocking Michael’s way in.

Truthfully, Michael had only been to Alex’s house a total of two times, both just to stop by so Alex could grab something and they didn’t stay long. Now knowing what kind of business his family was in, Michael was glad he hadn’t stayed. And yet, today, all he wanted was to be in Alex’s bed. He was going to get fucked over anyway.

“Can you just hold me for a while?” Michael asked. Any sort of antagonizing Alex had in mind went away and he nodded, moving out of the way. Michael climbed in and nearly fell twice in the process, not even able to laugh it off when he needed Alex’s help.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Michael was pulled into Alex’s arms. His head was cradled against Alex’s shoulder, he was tugged down onto his bed, he was held and he was warm and he was safe. Safe enough. As safe as he would get.

They laid there for a long while, nothing but the sound of their breathing as Alex combed through his hair. Michael faded in and out of consciousness at the sensation, secretly hoping to just let his mind fade away forever into the feeling. That would be a good way to go.

But, then again, he couldn’t have anything nice.

“Michael,” Alex whispered, “When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Michael didn’t respond, but his grip on Alex tightened a little and that seemed to be all Alex needed to know there was, in fact, something going on. He readjusted himself a little and touched Michael’s cheek. It took a few seconds to successfully get him to meet his eyes.

“I’m not stupid. Something’s been going on, but I’ve stayed quiet. How much longer are you gonna leave me having to assume? Because my assumptions are getting wilder,” Alex said, trying to tease a little to lighten the mood. 

The issue was the truth was wild. How do you tell your boyfriend you’re actually an alien from the 1940s and you’re currently being used as an experiment by his big brother who he loves? Alex would laugh in his face or just leave him. Or maybe Eff was wrong and Alex did know and Alex would start experimenting on him too. He could take a lot, but he didn’t think he could take that.

Michael sniffled and focused on Alex’s collarbone, reaching out to touch it. He ran his fingers over it a few times and hoped Alex would just drop it.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Alex said softly, “But you know you can trust me, don’t you? I’m not going to hate you or be disgusted by you or anything. I might even be able to help?”

Michael’s throat began to tighten and he swallowed hard. He thought about Eff and his weird niceness and how he’d probably make him disappear soon, how Michael probably didn’t have much time left with Alex at all.  How did he get in the position where he once had all the time in the world to having none at all?

He dragged his hand up to touch Alex’s lips. They were as soft as always and his breath was warm against his fingertips. He couldn’t remember the last time he kissed him. Hell, he could barely remember the last time they’d been able to spend this much time together in person. Then again, this had been one of the longest weeks of his life. Longest few months. Or, just nothing before it felt real.

Michael moved up to give him a kiss, one that was hardly a kiss at all and seemed to only be reciprocated because of how long it’d been. Alex broke it seconds after it started, shaking his head.

“Michael,” he whispered, “You‒”

“I love you,” Michael said earnestly. 

Alex let out a shaky breath. It shouldn’t have been such a hard thing to say and he probably could’ve said it sooner. He knew most of the people he’d been friends with who said ‘I love you’ within the first month of dating someone‒the first week, even.

This just happened to be a bit more serious than that.

“I’m not saying that because of… I’m saying it because I mean it. Because I don’t know when or if I’ll get to tell you later. I want you to know just in case,” Michael said. Alex’s eyebrows only tugged together more and he scooted closer.

“Just in case? What do you mean? What’s going on?” Alex said, worry lacing his soft and sweet voice. God, he was so good. He couldn’t possibly know. He couldn’t possibly be in on the bullshit his family enacted.

“I should go.”

“What? No, stop,” Alex said, his knee wedging between Michael’s thighs to lock his leg around his at a weak attempt to keep in place. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Michael said, relaxing back into his bed. He was too tired to really try to leave even if he wanted to. And he really, really didn’t. 

“It’s obviously not nothing and you’re freaking me out,” Alex said, looking him over, “I was assuming it was something to do with your adoption or something and you were playing it straight for your social worker, but that’s obviously not it.”

Michael sighed and blinked slowly, tempted to just keep his eyes closed. When he opened them again, Alex was just staring at him.

“Next assumption was that you got into drugs. Have you? And if you have, let me help you,” Alex pressed, “Let me and your dad help you. You know he asked me what was wrong with you, right? Like, everyone’s noticed. So, just, like, stop talking like you’re never going to see me again. Let me fix it.”

Michael laughed dryly and turned his face into the pillow before he started crying where Alex could see. What was it with Alex and Sanders both being so eager to fix what they had no hand in? It didn’t make sense.

“Did you like accidentally fuck over a drug dealer or something and that’s why you’ve been staying away from me and distant and paranoid? Because we can go to the police and, and figure it out,” Alex continued, “You’re worrying me and I don’t like it.”

Michael took a few breaths until he could trust that his voice wasn’t going to embarrass him. “I’m not doing or dealing drugs and I haven’t pissed off any drug dealers.”

“Then what is it?”

“What happened to not pushing?” Michael murmured. Alex didn’t respond as he let his head hit the pillow.

They laid in silence for a bit longer, tension between them that wasn’t there before. Michael should just tell him. What was the worst that could happen? He was already living in the worst timeline, he might as well just say it.

But that was easier said than done. It was something he needed to talk to Isobel and Max about‒if he could even talk to Isobel and Max without anything bad happening. The idea of it made him feel like he was being choked. Everything made him feel like that recently.

Alex’s hand suddenly touched the back of his neck and Michael was brutally hit with the comparison to the feeling of his brother’s hand on his neck. Eff was rough and firm while Alex’s touch was soft and warm. He wouldn’t mind if that touch stayed there indefinitely. And it seemed to stay there for a while, simply working into his neck.

When Alex pulled his leg away from Michael’s, he almost broke the silence to say something to keep him there. But Alex was pulling Michael onto his stomach and climbing onto his back before he had the chance. His hands worked into the multitude of weeks worth of tension in his shoulders and his neck, carefully trying to make him pliant under his fingers. Michael wasn’t sure it’d work, but he wasn’t going to tell him no.

The longer that went on, however, the more Michael found himself feeling guilty. He was a shitty boyfriend. He tried to think of the last nice thing he’d done for Alex out of the sea of nice things Alex had done for him. Sure, Michael was going through his own shit, but he was letting Alex worry and pushing him away and then letting Alex take care of him after it all. This wasn’t what he had in mind when he thought about getting Alex for real. It was supposed to be Alex parading around in his letterman jacket, it was supposed to be racking up tardy slips because he was late after blowing Alex in his truck, it was supposed to be good. 

And Alex had stayed good. Michael was the one who was fucking him over.

“Alex,” Michael said softly. He hummed in question, pressing into a knot in between his shoulders that nearly had him crying all over again. “Alex, what would you say if I told you the truth?”

Alex paused for just a moment before getting back to it.

“I already told you.”

“Even if I say I’m an alien and there’s a guy who found out and is basically using me as a science experiment and I can’t do anything about it because he’s got military connections and I can’t go to the cops because, again, alien,” Michael said in one breath, half into the pillow. Alex stopped for a much longer moment this time.

“That’s not funny,” Alex said softly.

“I didn’t think it was.”

More silence, more breathing, more waiting. Michael was sure he was going to be thrown out of his house. It was the logical next step.

“Science experiment?” Alex asked slowly. Michael nodded. “Like, cuts you open?”

Michael huffed a laugh, “Not yet, thank god.” Alex didn’t laugh. “Usually sticking needles into pressure points that set off shit in me and electrocution. Sometimes injects me with, like, alien steroid type things.”

“Michael.”

“Could be worse, though, ‘cause he hasn’t cut me open,” Michael said. Alex made a pained little noise and then laid on Michael’s back. It was distinctly different than being kicked out. “Aren’t you freaked out? I’m an alien.”

“I’ve had sex with you and I didn’t find a zipper,” Alex murmured into the back of his neck. Michael breathed a sigh of relief that mixed with a laugh. If more tears came, they met the pillow immediately. “Don’t worry, I’ll help.”

“Alex, you can’t‒”

“I can,” Alex said firmly, “Give me a few days to come up with something.”

Michael didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Later, he’d find a way to tell Alex that wasn’t an option. Currently, though, he’d stay right here.

Here, he was safe and warm and that’s all he cared about.

[skyystars]

oc info about all my ethermourne stuff below the cut, if anyones interested! it is. a lot. 

edit: after writing this what the fuck thats so much- if you have any questions about them please dont hesitate to ask but i would not blame you if you took one look at this post and ran HSJDFH there’s like 35 listed and thats still not all of them. zoinks

ethermourne is your typical dnd esque world. theres two kinds of people in the world, commonfolk and enchanted, and enchanted are people that can use various forms of magic. in the current story, a secret underground rebellion is going on against the kingdom, in order to free enchanted and bring justice to the world. theres a million and one characters here so bear w me. all characters belonging to my friends are marked with a *

on the black rock pirate ship,

captain shining - a fierce and protective leader. human. she’d do anything for her crew. commonfolk. damn near unstoppable with a sword. lifelong partner to orion ethermourne

johnathan bramwell - the first mate. human. quiet and reserved but goofy when he opens up. storm mage. lover of the sky- hates being in crowded areas on land. intelligent, loves to read and write letters. eventual boyfriend to nordwood thatch

aspen* (no lastname i dont think?) - boatswain. human. somber and stoic, a bit detached. big on family. half blind. ice mage. acts as a father figure to delphi

calvin - carpenter. old soul. human. does a lot of the heavy lifting for the ship. excellent storyteller. fire mage. usually brings some sort of wisdom or moral to someone on the ship.

nellie - cooper. human. misses her family, but has a heart of gold for the ship. scottish- often times hard to understand. ability to turn invisible. has a crush on tobi

galen* - doctor. timid and polite. wants to help people, will sacrifice his own health and safety to look after someone else. human(?). necromancer. arrived on the ship with enmea and quickly became like a brother to kaido

delphi - gunner. a young girl, easily excitable and a bit of a romantic. human. looks out for the people her age on the ship, acts sisterly to them. able to read a few moments into the future. 

kaido - navigator. young, free spirited, reckless. human. flight and telekinesis. eager to fight or find adventure. causes trouble. protects enmea like a younger sister, and is looked after by galen, who he eventually accepts as an older brother.

enmea* - powder monkey. goblin, steals and bargains with the crew for fun but never means any real harm. witty and sarcastic. illusion and misdirection magic. especially loves to bother bramwell and nordwood with her antics. 

faine* - cook. satyr. loves to be the life of a party. has lived many years and mostly achieved peace but like, loves to dick around. plantaemancer. has a big crush on aspen. 

nordwood percival thatch* - bard. half sun elf. cocky, expensive tastes, confidence, and flirty. magic can summon figures of light/magic to do his bidding/can impact emotions of people in vicinity. hopelessly in love with bramwell.

-

on land,

artemis ethermourne - the king of the empire. sun elf. main antagonist. commonfolk. younger brother of orion and husband to rietta

orion ethermourne - original leader of the rebellion. sun elf. warlock (jack of all trades), considered one of the most powerful of his time. was publicly executed by his brother when caught. left apprentice muriel in charge. partner of shining.

muriel becker* (murr) - aasimar enchanted. missing his halo due to an incident he doesnt mention. wants to become skilled in magic and art. raven symbolism- along with having his own companion raven, keeha. very tired and stressed. secretly dating amaris.

amaris hayles* (mars) - hunter/scout, commonfolk. drow/moon elf. dry humor, but a lot goes over his head. responsible and caring, looks out for much of the rebellion. doesnt talk much. dating muriel.

chevel troubleice - inventor, commonfolk. human. low self esteem but he’s Trying. interested in alchemy and learns more about magic through his teacher, murr.

evercon archer - enchanted rebel scout. wood elf. air magic. considers himself a loner. nomadic, feigns a know-it-all attitude. doesnt like cities. under technical responsibility of amaris. eventually falls for woodrow.

tuka archer - enchanted rebel worker. wood elf. fire mage. responsible for helping safe travel for other through the woods. fur trader. big social personality, loves people and doesnt care too much what anyone thinks of him. brother to evercon and eventual lover to phinehas.

phinehas* - aasimar. i assume hes enchanted but now im actually not... sure....???? omg. anyway he’s soft, kindhearted and a poet. loves to write and is into theater. level headed for the most part. in love with tuka, ex of murr but on good terms!! theyre still friends

woodrow jace andes* - enchanted tiefling bard. extremely sad but makes jokes to cope. sad jokes. the kind that make everyone else uncomfortable. necromancer. lives in a fucking dragon skeleton which is kind of badass. is embarrassingly soft for evercon.

vaughn hayles* - moon elf. idk if he’s enchanted or nah. protector, guardian, soft spoken. looks after a village, family means a lot to him (despite being unmarried). amaris’ dad.

elena bramwell - human, commonfolk, deceased. was small and determined. bram remembers her fondly, and recalls that she enjoyed music and dance, as well as having a talent for making flowercrowns and storytelling. bramwell’s mother. 

tobi* - tavernkeep. commonfolk. he is liddol and irish and knows how to play the banjo. has a massive crush on nellie. i love him dearly

-

on the sundancer pirate ship,

captain sylvan skybridge - enchanted human. light magic. is very tired but patient with his crew. false confidence has kept him going for almost a decade and hes not stopping now. only slightly concerned about... everyone on his ship

paige* - first mate. commonfolk witch, able to just barely cast spells and enchant objects. jack-of-all-trades, cunning, and incredibly clever at problem solving. mothers the crew if anyones in need. has a crush on michael.

michael grey* - doctor. commonfolk? enchanted? we just don’t know. a little disillusioned with reality. can see ghosts and has a small gang that follows him everywhere. sylvan and paige are the only crew members hes vaguely familiar with. has a crush on paige. **note: michael has 4 ghosts that follow him but im not listing them here just yet hh

ashton everett* - gunner. commonfolk human. fearless, exhausted of the shenanigans, genuinely just looking for a hot siren girlfriend and dismantling the monarchy. 

oscar* - boatswain. chaotic, will start a fight- but hes pretty terrible at getting himself out of trouble. needs tucked in at night. inseparable from lew.

lew* - boatswain. calm, collected, used to oscar’s antics. helps take care of the ship, has a turtle. 

rhubarb* - cook. human enchanted. plant powers. just trying to get along with everybody. don’t insult his cooking he’s trying his hardest. probably the oldest on the ship.

waverly* - enchanted human. like a bird selkie, can turn into a raven. spends a lot of her time this way. escaped from a traveling circus and joined the crew to help free others like her. 

cloud* - siren. tried to bring down the sundancers crew to prove herself, failed miserably and ended up liking them all. flirts relentlessly but is god awful at it. 

-

additional notes:

-some of them exist in a modern au, mainly involving bram/nord/mars/murr as a ghost hunting gang who always finds themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. bram and mars form a brotherly bond over time. in modern au elena is discovered to be alive. vaughn winds up falling in love with her (it is very cute).

-i often draw sylvan and captain ryan of the silent requiem. this pirate ship belongs to my friend sept and is placed in her own world, so none of that crew is mine ;w; most of their shenanigans are in a crossover state where a very sylvan begs ryan to teach him what to do as a captain, and ryan looks after him like a son (though he’d fucken deny it). young syl is far too curious for his own good and gets into trouble a lot. sorry dad

creds: galen, aspen, enmea, faine, nord, murr, mars, tobi, phinehas, woodrow, vaughn, and paige are all characters that belong to my friend bee. michael grey belongs to my friend jake. ashton belongs to my friend rueben.  oscar and lew belong to my friend kenzie. rhubarb belongs to my friend pasta. waverly belongs to my friend cal. cloud belongs to my friend sara. 

[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP - 36.5 - Interlude 4: Late Insight

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net  -  AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: I'll be honest and say... the reactions to the last chapter completely blew me away! There were some great reactions, on FFnet, on AO3, and on Tumblr, thank you all so very very much! That's what makes all the struggles and hardships of writing worth the while! :)

Now, I know you're all eager to know what happens next with Astrid and that announcement. But before we go back there in the next chapter, here's another interlude, and I guess many of you can guess who's POV we're getting. There's been quite some anger and hate coming up after the previous chapter for the King but also for Daniel, and I hope I can disperse at least part of that... They don't mean bad...

. o O o .

…so I am glad to inform you that the construction work on the fortress of Redpeak proceeds as planned. Thanks to Uncle Spitelout’s help with organizing the logistics and his recommendations on more people to help, we were able to start with the alterations even sooner than I had hoped. By now, a part of those alterations are already underway and the preparations for the remainder are complete. I trust in the overseers’ capability to supervise their execution. Thus I am confident in being able to return to the castle as planned once this last mission is complete.

Daniel reviewed the lines he'd just written and nodded to himself before sealing the paper with wax. It was just a short note, to be delivered by pigeon, and there were many points he would have liked to add, but hadn’t due to the limited space. But he couldn’t change it, and it wouldn't be long until his return to the capital anyway.

Sighing, he thought about all the things that would await him there. The report and a renewed expression of gratitude to Spitelout, because without his help, none of his current work would have worked out as effortlessly as it had. But there were also other, less pleasant duties awaiting him.

Like investigating the death of the former Count Ravenledge, for example. Even though Daniel had received the message weeks ago, shortly after his arrival in Westhill, it still irked him. By all accounts, the old man had been found dead in his cell the morning after Daniel had left the capital, letting him escape the slow and public death he’d been sentenced to as part of justice for his crimes. Even more worrisomely, the report suspected poison. With how secluded and securely the man had been guarded, Daniel could only think of one sensible explanation that didn’t involve their entire personal security having been compromised: his father had arranged for it. It also explained why the former count had agreed to confess after stonewalling: because he'd gotten a new offer, a quicker death in exchange for information. Daniel could see the… the merit in this decision, even as he didn't like it. They had needed that information far more than they'd needed another public execution. But it irked him that he hadn't been included in the plan. His father had probably thought he would be against it, would have demanded justice for the people of Ravenledge. Well, he would have been right, but still. Not knowing about the plan had made Daniel give a promise he felt more and more reluctant to keep with every day.

He had promised not to treat Angus, Harold's older brother, any differently, despite the crimes his father and brother had committed. It had been an easy promise at that time. Nothing in the reports they’d received indicated that Angus, who’d left his family in early years to receive extended education as a squire and a nobleman, had been involved in any of those crimes. But since Daniel’s return to Westhill, the young man had changed. Not enough to warrant disciplining him, but it was still obvious that he was upset about losing his birthright to title and land.

With another heavy sigh, he rubbed his face. He knew all too well that focusing on this problem – no matter how real it may be – only had one purpose right now. It was to distract him from what he really worried about upon his return to the castle: how Astrid would react when she saw him. For the umpteenth time this evening he glanced at the calendar on his small travel desk, and his heart sank. This wasn’t the first year he couldn’t be there for his sister’s birthday, what with him being a knight for two years now and a squire for many years before that. It had always pained him to not celebrate this day with her, but this year, it was so much worse. Because he knew this year was different. Maybe it was right now that their father held his speech; about the anniversary to their grandfather’s birthday, the planned festivities, and all the other made-up reasons they’d come up with to mask the real event.

Astrid’s upcoming wedding, and the time before where her suitors were supposed to compete for her favour.

It was a sickening plan, but it would certainly be effective. The prospect of the Princess’s hand in marriage would be a potent bait, potent enough to lure out even the most hesitant conspirators, and by the time they realised that the accidental deaths were only hitting the enemies of the Crown, it would be too late. But it pained Daniel to use something that was supposed to be a happy day for his sister for such a purpose, and the only solace he could find in any of this was that she would still get to choose.

It meant that not that much would change, or might even change to her advantage. He still put all his hopes in Eret, in that he and Astrid would finally be able to look beyond their sibling bond and see how good they would be for each other. But if there was someone else among the guests they’d invited, another nobleman that caught her interest, then she would be free to choose him instead. That was good, wasn’t it? It gave her more freedom than she ever could have hoped for, and the fact that all this would come two years sooner than expected wasn’t really that bad… right?

Groaning, Daniel let his head drop onto the table. She would hate it! He knew Astrid too well to fool himself on this. She would hate being used like this. She would hate being reduced to just the royal figurehead, nothing but a puppet in this scheme. And she would hate that she had no say whatsoever in this decision that so immensely changed her entire life. Maybe it wouldn’t change all that much in the end if she chose Eret as he hoped, but still.

“Is anything the matter, my Lord?”

Daniel sat up straight in an instant, looking up at the young man who had entered his private tent.

“Milburn,” he greeted his squire, buying time to recompose himself. “Yes, everything’s fine. I… just finished the letter for the King.”

Without a word of explanation needed he handed the folded and sealed paper over, and Milburn directly walked over to where the last of his carrier pigeons was waiting in its cage. It took him only a minute to fix the paper to the bird’s leg, whereupon he went to the tent’s entrance and let it loose.

“I brought you the reports from the scouts,” Milburn said as he returned, handing him a letter, probably from the captain of his guard. “It looks like the area is clear of any Malarian raiders. There’s one group of bandits operating in this general area, but they aren’t big enough to pose a threat to us. Nothing should get in the way of tomorrow’s trip to that outpost.”

Daniel nodded mutely. He hadn’t expected anything else, but it was still good to have the confirmation.

“So, now that this is dealt with…” Milburn began hesitantly. “May I ask what is bothering you, Milord? Anything I can do to help? Get you a mug of ale, for example?”

Smiling weakly, Daniel let out a snort. For two years now, Milburn had been his squire, but it still surprised him on a regular basis how good an observer the young man was. “No ale, thank you. It’s really nothing of importance, just…” he paused, considering options, then let out a heavy sigh. By now, secrecy wasn’t important anymore. Tomorrow, all the previously spread letters would become public declarations, announcing the eighty-one days of festivities and the Princess’s wedding as the crowning highlight. Telling his squire now beforehand wouldn’t do any damage anymore – the official part and his own worries, at least.

“Actually, you’re right,” he said ruefully. “There is something bothering me, but it’s nothing you can help me with.”

Milburn, easily able to interpret his master’s tone of voice, quickly seated himself on a stool, and watched Daniel in anticipation. It wasn’t often that Daniel could talk about official or personal topics with him, but when he did, Milburn was always eager to listen and often even able to help with a good piece of advice. Daniel doubted that he would ever become a skilled fighter, but he certainly would become a good advisor in a few years.

“It’s nothing… heavily important for the Kingdom,” he began slowly. “I’m mainly worried about my sister.”

Frowning, Milburn cocked his head? “The Princess? Why? Did something happen to her?”

The reaction made Daniel smile inwardly.  If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought the lad had a crush on Astrid. But knowing that women weren’t of any interest to him meant that his honest concern was merely born of politeness and the tentative friendship they had developed over the years.

“No, nothing happened to her. Not as far as I know at least; she should be fine. But it’s her birthday–” Milburn nodded knowingly, “–and the King will make a big announcement today. You’ll hear all about it in the next few days, but in the end, it all boils down to her marrying in less than two months. And I’m worried how she’ll take the news. She didn’t know about this plan beforehand, so as to not trouble her. But with no time to get used to it, I fear it’s going to be a shock to her. Announcing her wedding without even knowing who her husband is going to be, and even two years earlier than is customary…” he trailed off, shaking his head. No, she wouldn’t like it, and it truly pained him that she would have to go through this and that he wasn’t there to help her.

“You don’t know who she’ll marry?” Milburn asked, a little incredulously. “How’s that possible?”

“It… it’s complicated,” Daniel sighed, unable to explain the whole scheme to lure out their enemies. “All that’s certain is that she’ll have to choose her husband-to-be from a group of selected noblemen.” Of which she barely knows anyone, he added inwardly, scowling.

Milburn’s sudden laughter took him completely by surprise. Daniel looked up, puzzled by this reaction, and tried to make sense of it.

“I-I’m sorry, Milord,” he gasped, visibly fighting to pull himself together but failing miserably. “It’s just… it isn’t even funny, but… but I’ve heard so much and… and… Oh, Gods, I’m so sorry.”

Daniel watched in bewilderment until his squire had calmed down enough to speak clearly again.

“I’m truly sorry, please believe me. I didn’t mean to laugh about a topic that upsets you so much, Milord. And I’m sorry for your sister as well, that can’t be an easy time for her. I was just laughing, because… well, I know of at least one person who will be absolutely heartbroken about the news.”

Daniel snorted. “Oh?” he asked, not really interested. Aside from her status, Astrid had grown into a beautiful woman. He wasn’t blind, after all. He was used to hearing about people being infatuated with her.

But Milburn’s enthusiasm was unwavering. “Oh, yes,” he went on, chuckling again. “You see, the guards you brought with you from the castle were talking about it a lot. Well, probably not to you, I guess, but, well… Apparently, there’s been this new fellow around the castle? And whenever he’s around the Princess, he can’t take his eyes off her. From what I heard, it goes far beyond a normal crush, he even frequents an Ástir playing the role of the Princess. He never grew past the point of endearing puppy adoration though, not disturbing at all, they said, or they would have dealt with him already, and some say he’s even friends with the Princess, though that’s just a rumour. Either way, he’s going to be devastated when he hears about this. Ah, but I better not laugh too much about this, or meeting him come summer is going to be awkward,” he added, chuckling in slight embarrassment. Then he looked at Daniel. “Sir? Is... everything all right?”

Daniel had listened to the whole speech with growing alarm. Had there been someone stalking Astrid without him knowing about it? Hearing that his men would have dealt with the man if he’d gone too far was reassuring, but still. He was still wondering who this man could be when Milburn's last addition made him look up in confusion. “You expect to meet this man? How? Is he one of the new recruits? We don’t even know where those will be going yet.”

“Oh, I know,” Milburn nodded, grinning. “But I expect to be working in close proximity with this one. As I understand, you and the ducal heirs are going to form a team, right? So I expect to spend a lot of time with Sir Eret’s squire.”

Daniel blinked. He blinked again. And then it was his turn to burst out laughing. “You’re talking about Hiccup?” he gasped out, disbelievingly. Oh, sure, there had been a time when he’d hoped for this option; it would have solved two problems at once. But by now, that hope was long gone.

“Uh, yes, that was his name.” Milburn nodded, clearly surprised by his master’s reaction.

Shaking his head as his amusement simmered down, Daniel sighed. “Believe me, Hiccup doesn’t have a crush on my sister. I can confirm the rumours: he and the Princess indeed became good friends over the winter. But his heart belongs to someone else. He’d told us about her once, you see? I’ve never seen a man that much in love before. I mean… I might have been a little intoxicated at that time, but I still remember enough. That dazed smile and the enthusiasm with which he’d talked about his beloved. No, be assured, there’s no place in his heart for anyone else.”

Milburn cocked his head. “Are you sure? I mean, no offence, Milord, and you certainly know him better, but the men were all pretty convinced he only has eyes for your sister. Ah, well, but if he told you who his love is then they must be mistaken. Less funny but also less awkward, and better for him anyway.” He shrugged.

“Actually, he never…” Daniel began, but trailed off again, his mind suddenly working with rapid speed.

Hiccup had never told them who his beloved was. Only that he would need to convince her father and brother of his worth before he could marry her… A picture was forming in Daniel’s mind, but it didn’t make much sense yet. That… couldn’t be, could it? Yes, Hiccup was seeing Cami, but not because she played the part of the Princess, but because they were friends. On that point, the rumours already were wrong. But what about the rest? What about Hiccup looking at Astrid more than most others, enough to draw the attention of the guards? If he’d had a crush on Astrid, then he probably would have hidden that from him and Eret. But from others? There would have been no need.

Could it be? Daniel sifted through his memories, trying to remember what Hiccup had said about his beloved.

She’s amazing! I only met her after we got here, but it already feels as if we’ve known each other forever. She’s so beautiful, her eyes gleaming as bright as the sky, and her hair… her soft skin, and those sweet lips. I could spend all day kissing her. But she’s so much more than just beautiful, also kind and funny, witty and smart, strong and brave. So brave… And I love her. Gods, I do. I love her so much.

Daniel swallowed, hard. It fit… He hadn’t even wasted one thought about this back then, but the description, vague as it was, certainly fitted to his sister. Was Hiccup in love with Astrid? Was she the one he wanted to marry, whose family he had to convince? But how was Astrid thinking about all this, what did that mean for her? Had he brought danger into her life by involving Hiccup into their activities? Had he brought another unwanted admirer who would upset her with his advances? But no… Daniel clearly remembered Hiccup’s words in the tavern that night.  

“I want to marry her. And I will marry her one day. She’s the one for me, I know it.”

“So she feels the same?”

“Amazingly, she does.”

Yes, those had only been his words. Sure, he’d gotten to know Hiccup as nothing but honest and honourable, but could he trust him in this? Could it be that Astrid felt the same? With these thoughts, another picture rose to his mind’s eye. The picture of Astrid hugging Hiccup tight at the Grand Blot. At that time, Daniel had been stunned by her seeking this kind of closeness to a man, so shortly after Harold’s assault, and then the fear in her eyes afterwards had convinced him that it must have been nothing but a thoughtless reaction. But when he thought about it now… It was remarkable how easily and naturally the motion had come, how she’d seemed to know exactly where to place her arms. How relaxed and at ease she’d been in that moment. And the fear… it hadn’t been directed at Hiccup, Daniel realised with a start. It had been directed at him!

“Oh dear Gods,” he breathed as everything clicked into place. With unseeing eyes he gazed into the distance as his mind raced through the weeks they’d spend together. Astrid had been so different. He’d written that off to Eret’s presence and the horses, but even with those explanations, the changes in her behaviour had surprised him. But if she’d fallen in love, for real, it all made sense. Her cheerful mood, her dreamy smiles, her enthusiasm and occasional distractedness. All that made sense when she and Hiccup had been in love all this time.

He gasped out a laugh, a disbelieving smile on his face. This was everything he’d hoped for. His beloved sister, happy and cared for by a man who truly loved her, a man he respected. And a new purpose for a friend who’d lost everything.

But why hadn’t she told him? Why had they kept it a secret? She used to tell him everything…

The answer came to Daniel with a painful sting. The fear in Astrid’s eyes. She’d been afraid of him, of his reaction. And after Harold’s assault, that even made sense in a way. Daniel would have punished everyone who would have dared to lay hand on her, and he even remembered how he’d warned Hiccup to not touch her again on that first night. But did she really believe he’d do anything if she was happy? Again, he tried to go through past events in his mind, how Astrid begging for mercy had only made things worse, how he’d sworn to himself to more trust in his own judgement in the future, and realised… Yes, she did believe that. And to his own disgrace, he couldn’t even say that he blamed her.

“What have I done?” he muttered, face buried in his hands. If Astrid didn’t trust him enough, then that was on him alone, he knew that. But if he’d known, he would have done everything to support them. Talk to their father, provide Hiccup with enough influence to make him eligible. It wouldn’t have been easy, but surely possible, somehow. It had to be. But now, it was too late, he realised with a start. The announcement was made, the group of suitors already picked. Astrid was to marry one of the invited men – and Hiccup wasn’t one of them. If only she’d told him!

But no, it was not too late! Daniel refused to believe that. His father was the King, for Odin’s sake! That had to count for something. And he had promised to support Hiccup in convincing his beloved’s family.

Hastily, he reached for another sheet of paper and his pencil, startling his squire with his sudden activeness. “Milburn, get another pigeon ready. I need to write another letter to my father.” There had to be something they could do. Maybe they could make Hiccup a baron or even a count. Or he could become an advisor of some rank, just putting him into any position that would make it acceptable for Astrid to choose him if that was what she wanted. If there was a chance for her to marry for love, then Daniel would do everything to make it possible.

He started to scribble a few quick lines to his father, explaining the situation and asking for his help, when Milburn clearing his throat drew his attention. The lad was still sitting on his stool, unmoving and with a look of discomfort on his face.

“I-I’m sorry, Milord,” he said in an apologetic voice. “But you can’t send another carrier pigeon; I just sent our last one off.” He shrugged helplessly, looking truly miserable for being unable to follow his command.

“Oh, for the…” Daniel cursed. He brought his fist to the table, making the simple construction tremble. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening! Astrid’s happiness was too important to him; he just couldn’t give up. Not now, not if there was a chance that what he’d just put together was true.

But it wasn’t too late yet. There were still weeks before Astrid was to decide on a betrothed. With a grim expression and a stern face, he said, “Go, and tell the men they are to pack their things tonight already. We set out as soon as possible in the morning.”

Milburn stood up, nodding in understanding, but hesitated nonetheless. “Of course. But may I ask for the reason of this change of plan? I assume the men would react better to this news if they also got a brief explanation.”

Daniel nodded. “Calling this last mission off when we’re already so close to our goal would be stupid,” he replied grimly. “But as soon as it’s done, we’re heading back to the next fortification. I need to get hold of a carrier pigeon to the castle as soon as possible, and I won’t tolerate being held up by laziness.”

Milburn nodded and left the tent without another word, and Daniel stared at his resolutely clenched fists. He wasn’t happy about this delay, felt as if every day of waiting might be too much. But there was nothing he could do about it, and sending this letter with a delay of three or four days would certainly still be enough.   

Wouldn’t it?

. o O o .

So, a short one this week, but one that answered some questions from earlier, I think. And probably posed some new ones. As always, I'd be happy to hear about your thoughts and reactions. ;)

And I want to put a warning here. I don't want to switch to a solid two-weeks-schedule just yet, but I want to say that it's possible that two-weeks-gaps may happen more often in the future. If so, then there will always be a warning here.

Next Chapter

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON R!OT’S MAIN RAP, VOCAL LEE JIMIN…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: 99 Ent. ETC: this member participated on UPRS and came in second prior to debut

IDOL IMAGE

with her mature features and sharp eyes paired with that deep voice and intense rap, jimin embodies the “cool girl” aesthetic. her personality is blunt yet rough around the edges, her anger and attitude often coming close to crossing the line into “unacceptable” territory. she’s far from tame and most would think that no company would want to take the risk of debuting her just yet, however, she was added to the r!ot lineup anyway and made it into the group with her list of flaws still a mile long. though, they knew exactly how to play it just right. jimin is not a “typical” idol, but then again that’s exactly what 99 is going for with r!ot—a group of girls meant to be just catchy enough to draw you in and just intimidating enough to make you keep your distance. her aggressive and loud stance is exactly what the group needs to stand out she bring their concept home.

her confidence paired with the skills she spent years cultivating makes her worth the risk, especially with the heavy criticism of idol rappers growing each new generation. however, her own attitude towards them is what holds her back. she never wanted to be an idol, hated idols even, and it shows in her performance. the occasional lazy movements, lip syncing instead of singing live with the rest of the group, slacking off on practice. she’s far from enthusiastic about her position as a member of the group, doing the bare minimum to keep her spot and avoid confrontation from the members. when the cameras are on her, she can do what she has to get by, but when the others are trying their hardest to stand out with so many groups debuting every day, she’s doing her best to fade into the background.

that doesn’t stop 99 from pushing her as an mc and on variety shows. her blunt attitude and quick wit make her easy to crack jokes with and keep banter going, her harsh nature coming off more as a dog that’s more bark than bite when combined with the typical wacky editing. she’s a tool to get her group out there, no matter how much she dislikes it. she feels it undermines her as a rapper and a musical artist to be paraded around like a show pony and make everyone like her. she should be loved for her music and music only, not her visuals or anything else irrelevant. while she can’t exactly take back the contract she signed, she can stage her own form of protest in being as bare minimum as possible.

IDOL HISTORY

Early Life

from the moment she was born, jimin was put at a disadvantage. coming from a single mother family with two children and being from a small time, their family was always the topic of whispers and rumors. her mother never finished school, meaning the only jobs she could get were those at a store, cafe or hair salon—never making enough money to care for her and her older brother. options were limited with her mother having little family willing to take on two kids with no guarantee she’d ever come get them, and ultimately her mother decided to give the two of them up by the time she was 4 and he was 6, sending them off to live with their grandmother.

needless to say jimin and jungmin, her brother, were as thick as thieves. they were unable to be separated even before they went into the system together. despite the closeness in age, jungmin did his best to take the role of parent with how often their mother spent out working or with “friends”, and even more so when they felt they had no one else they could depend on. and jimin did what she could to keep him safe, despite being younger. whether it be fighting on his behalf whenever he would be picked on by the other children, or waiting for him when he got back from school so they could walk hand in hand home.

their dependence on each other was a crutch and a weakness. they could hardly go the school day without one another and it only got worse as they grew older.

II. Adolescence

jimin has odd hobbies for someone her age. most kids frown at the idea of writing and willingly spending extra time in school, but it was what she enjoyed. particularly, spending hours on end writing stories or poems in her little notebook her brother got her with the little pocket money he had. it was something she was always drawn to, from when she was younger and writing diary entries to school age when she would always get the highest rank in the subject. combined with her odd childhood fascination with spiders and various other creepy crawlers and her bad attitude, she was naturally seen as a bit strange. she was never a people person—coming from her relying solely on her brother and her fear of abandonment coming from her relationship, or lack of, with his mother—but jungmin was instantly popular.

where jimin was awkward and aggressive, jungmin was kind and gentle. where jungmin was bright and energetic, jimin was gloomy and sluggish. polar opposites despite spending nearly every waking moment together for years. there came a time when they began to stray away from one another, more so on jungmin’s part. when they were younger, there was no problem with letting the rude little sister tag along with her older brother’s friends, but it became increasingly awkward and weird. eventually he began telling her excuse after excuse, lie after lie, to keep her home and away from him. he loved his sister, he did, but he wanted to be his own person. jimin couldn’t seem to understand that.

as the gap between them grew, so did her tendency to isolate herself. she focused solely on her studies, her writing. she didn’t have many people who could put up with her snapping at them, and thus didn’t have any real friends close enough to reach out to her. she was alone. and that was when she found music.

III. Discovery of Music

when she found music, she felt like she finally found herself. while jimin loved writing, she always felt something was missing. her teachers suggested an extra curricular or something to do instead of spending all her free time alone. the standard kpop groups she would see her classmates play or she’d overheard her brother talk about never interested her, and as she further explored music she found she had a strong dislike toward them and the treatment of music on their part. they didn’t appreciate the real art of it all, they didn’t understand what that music could really mean to someone. it was annoying in a way she couldn’t put into words.

that was what helped her discover the rap scene. living in hongdae, it was hard to really miss the huge hip-hop scene there, but it never occurred to her that she of all people could be a part of it. to say she was immediately good would be a lie. jimin started out participating in freestyle events and becoming more and more fascinated with the world. her craft was rusty, but she eventually managed to make a name for herself and felt like she fit with the people around her. it was real, the words truly meant something to them. it wasn’t like the music she heard her classmates gush about—it was raw and made her feel like part of a real movement. she loved it.

jimin didn’t start really rapping seriously until she was 15, attending proper competitions and turning her poems into raps and her stories into songs. it was like she was reborn as someone with confidence to be herself, her own person, regardless of the flaws and whether people liked her or not. she could let out all her pain and struggles, or everything that made her smile. it was an amazing feeling.

though she was young, she earned a decent amount of respect for her skills and ability to hold her own among older rappers. she was far from amazing, sure, but for her age she had a very solid foundation. that was probably what led to her being scouted. hongdae was known for the hip hop scene and the people within it, so it wasn’t strange for scouts for 99 to hang around the known populated areas for talent. jimin wasn’t the first or only choice, but she was recognized as someone who had potential and was called for an audition.

she initially decided to not go. it wasn’t her thing—she wasn’t idol material nor was the lifestyle what she wanted. but she was still young and immature and the scouts were very sweet talkers, and so she agreed to go. in heavy contrast to herself, her brother was excited to hear it. he followed all kinds of groups, especially girl groups, and the idea that his sister had the opportunity to work alongside them was almost too good to be true. and it was, because though she passed the audition, the moment she became a trainee was the moment she discarded it all.

IV. Trainee & Idol Life

needless to say jimin was unhappy as a trainee. the promises they told her and the lies they sold her to get their there were quickly thrown out the second she signed her name, leaving only anger and disappointment. the only reason she remained even after her hopes were crushed was because she couldn’t bring herself to let down the little family she had, who were so excited at the idea of seeing their little girl on the big screens in front of the whole country. she couldn’t bring herself to let them of all people down.

despite her reluctance, she wasn’t bad at it. rapping was naturally her strong suite, but dancing and singing weren’t particularly difficult for her. she was a natural, some praised her. it made her sick. jimin was completely at the mercy of the company and trainers, singing how they told her, dancing how they told her, rapping what they told her. it went against everything she knew and she hated it. there wasn’t much she could do, however. the longer she stayed, the deeper in debt she grew, and there was no way her family had the money to pay for any of it. her only option was to debut, and no matter how much she looked down on the others or how much she hated the idea, she worked toward it harder than anyone.

when she got the offer to be sent to a competition show while still as a trainee, she naturally hesitated. the competition among trainees was already more than she bargained for after all. but the possibility that she’d get to rap what she wanted, how she wanted, was just too much to give up.

when she was a contestant on unpretty rapstar, it was like a whole new world, but somehow the same one she’d left. she’d never tried “dissing”, not really, after all she was young and no one would truly try to take her down hard before. but that wasn’t like then. no one would go easy on there and she had to deliver the show people wanted to see. her cocky attitude and aggressive nature came in handy in a way it hadn’t before—she was exactly what people wanted to see when they turned the television on. she was all confidence and power, even if she lost or was less perfect on her rhymes. she held the attitude of a winner and when you have that, it doesn’t matter where you place. however, lucky for her, she managed to come out second and helped 99 solidify their plans for her.

with the hype surrounding her from the show, it wasn’t hard to figure out that she would be one of the girls debuting next. it was both a blessing and a curse for someone like jimin, but there wasn’t much that was within her power. when she was announced as r!it’s main rapper, she didn’t celebrate like the other members chosen. it was like one weight in her shoulders was exchanged for an even heavier one and it only got worse as the debut day grew closer. the only saving grace was her being allowed to have a hand in a track, allowing some ounce of actual jimin to be poured into the music she wanted to hate.

even while promoting as a member of a rookie group, jimin never changed who she was. she never forced a smile, never faked a giggle to seem more likeable. sure it made some variety appearances awkward, the hosts and members trying their hardest to joke her blank face off but she stayed true to who she was. lucky for her, it went hand in hand with the way the public viewed her based on her uprs appearance—confident, unshakeable, and powerful. somehow, her disinterest only propelled her forward, landing her a job as an MC of all things. if given the choice, jimin would happily hand the job over to another member, but the excited calls from her brother and grandmother after seeing her on television made it hard to hate. after all, it was the only thing that could get her to smile and act energetic with her co-MCs and that frown could only get her so far.

[mlovesstories]

Scout Was A Secret 2

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

Word Count: 2089

Warnings: Language, gruff Dean, sassy Scout

Scout arrived in Lebanon, Kansas.  Using her resources, she found out that the guy she talked to was most-likely her father.  Scout was told about the bunker.  It scared her as she had never encountered one, but she was strong-willed and determined to find him.

Scout pulled up in her old, beat up car.  Her door squeaked as she shut it and walked toward the heavy door.  Scout knocked, but no one answered, so she sat in front of the metal entrance. As she did, she heard a rumble coming down the entrance road.  A man rolled down his window and got her attention.

“HEY! KID!” He started. “Scram! It ain’t haunted, move on!”

“You would know, wouldn’t you? WINCHESTER!”  She spat back at him.  ”I have some business to discuss!” Scout yelled so that he could hear over the roar of his old car.  

Dean’s eyes went wide at her mentioning his name.

“Dammit, kid.  Let me put my baby away, and we can talk.”

________

“So, kid-”

“Scout,” she deadpanned.  “You’re Dean, right?  You must be Sam?”  Scout said curtly.

“Never heard of you, Scout.” 

“Hadn’t heard of you either, Dean.” 

“Okay!  Why don’t we sit?  Yes?”  Sam tried to calm the situation.

After they were seated, Dean was still wondering what was going on.

“You got some business to talk about, huh?”

“Yep.” Scout popped the last syllable.  

“What is it then, kid?”  Dean was growing tired of her answers.

“SCOUT!  My NAME is Scout, you ass!”

He put his hands up.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to young hunters,” he recoiled.

“I’m not really a hunter.  I know some hunters now, but I lost someone close to me.”

“Personal?”  Dean looked at her sincerely.

“My mom,” Scout teared up.

“Sorry, ki- Scout,” he reached to touch her arm, but she scooted back. “So why are you here?”

“You know Laura Mayweather?”

“Haven’t seen her in-”

“Little more than sixteen years?”  Scout raised a brow.

“About that, yeah.  Why-” Dean’s eyes went big, and he took a deep breath.

Oh shit.

“According to her, you’re my dad.”  Scout said slowly.

I have a kid.  

“My mom told me she didn’t tell you.  I brought my birth certificate.” Scout slid the paper across the table. She saw the blank look on his Dean’s. “You know what- bad idea. I’ll just let myself out,” she shrugged and started to stand.

“You can’t drop something on me like this and leave, Scout,” Dean stood to block her path to the door. “When were you born?”  He picked up the document and saw his name listed as the father.  

“February 11, 2002.”

“What’s your full name?”

“Kansas Laura Carlyle,” she responded. The boys’ jaws dropped. “Yes, I know my name is weird. No commentary needed,” she dismissed them.

“No, it’s awesome. Kansas is home.  And it was for your mom too. The band is an added bonus. So why the name Scout?” Dean’s interest skyrocketed.

“Well, she has called me that ever since I can remember. Mom told me I was curious, always up for finding things and getting dirty. She said my dad was like a Boy Scout, knew everything needed to get by in life, and that would be me someday.”

Dean froze.

What? Okay, keep it together. 

“That’s very cool, thanks for sharing,” Sam covered for his brother. She smiled at his compliment.

“Are you sure you’re mine?  She could have put anyone’s name on this,” Dean stated flatly, coming back to the reality that he might have a daughter.  

“Are you saying my mom is a slut, Winchester?”  Scout growled.

“No!  I just…”  he trailed off.

“Journal, backpage.”

Dean flipped to the last page and saw the same drawing that Scout had.  

“Why didn’t Laura say anything?”  Dean looked earnestly at his daughter.

“She told me that you were too good of a hunter, and she also wanted to keep me safe.  My mom said it wouldn’t be fair for either of us, basically.  I didn’t know about you or hunting until after she died.  She told me to look in a chest, and I found the journal,” Scout stated matter-of-factly.  

“I gave this to her,” Dean remembered Laura opening his gift.

“So can we talk about all this, please?”  

“Talk about what?” Dean asked.

“You. Me. Father and daughter.” she said in a snarky tone. “Can I get to know you?” She crossed her arms.

“You’ve got Laura's sass,” he smiled.

————

“So, you’re sixteen, emancipated, and roughing it in your car?” Dean was skeptical.

“The house was sold, and I don’t have other family. Mom told me in her journal to come find you. She said I could trust you… Can I?”

“Ummm…”

This is a lot.

“Never mind, obviously she was wrong,” Scout stood up and walked toward the bunker stairs.

“Wait!” Dean took hold of her wrist, but she surprised him with twisting his arm behind his back. They both paused, and he whimpered in response.

“Get your hunter hands off me, Winchester. I may not look like it, but I can handle myself just fine. DON’T touch me again, you understand?” She growled in his ear.

“Yeah, got it,” he screeched as she pulled his wrist upward even more.  She pushed him forward after a beat.  He stumbled to gain his balance and saw Sam snicker.  

_______

The Winchesters invited Scout to stick around.  Since she had nowhere to go, she did.  Scout picked up on a few things within the first three days of her being in the bunker.  

1. Dean gets angry when not fed.

2. Sam is sweet and shows emotions more than Dean.

3. Dean drinks.  A lot.  Maybe I can steal a beer?

4. Sam wants me here, Dean… I’m not so sure. 

_______

“HEY!  KID!  Wake up!  Time to go!”  Dean yelled through Scout’s door.

She groaned, rolled over, and looked at the time.  

6AM.  Really, Winchester?

“GO AWAY!”  She sassed.

“I will make your life hell, kid!  Let’s go!”

She knew he was kidding, but she also believed him.

“FINE! Fifteen minutes!”  Scout yelled back through the door.

“YOU’VE GOT FIVE!”  Dean’s shoes were heard walking away from her door.

Crap.  I don’t need him mad at me already.  Get up!  

“Why in the hell am I up this early?”  She spat at her father after getting ready.

“You’re definitely Dean’s kid, Scout.  He isn’t a morning person either,” Sam was packing up a bag.

“Shut it, Sammy.”  Dean turned to Scout and said, “We have to go get supplies for a hunt.  You’re coming with so that you can learn what we need.  That way you know what to get next time.”

“I ain’t running your errands!  I’m not a personal assistant!  Get your own!  Good night!”  She walked back to her room.  Before she could shut it, Dean stuck his foot between the door and doorframe.

“You said your mom wanted you to come find me, right?”  He asked her with a deep groan.  She rolled her eyes.  “If you are going to live here, you have to own some of the responsibility.  That’s how it works around here.  Now, if you don’t come, we’ll find something else for you to do,” he relaxed his stance and waited.

“Fine, Winchester,” she walked out of her room after he stepped aside.

________

“I want to learn!”  Scout whined.

She had been living with the Winchesters for a few months and had learned to really enjoy her new living accommodations.  

“No, I am not teaching you.  Besides, you have a black belt or something anyway,”  Dean retorted.  

“What’s wrong with learning to shoot a gun?  You know what’s out there!  Someone might come after me because I’m your kid!  I hate this hunting crap, but I’m a risk.  You know that!”

“Go to school,” Dean said abruptly.

“What?”  Scout confusedly asked.

“Finish high school,”  he stated differently.  “If you re-enroll then I will teach you.”

“No!”

“Then no shooting,” Dean said flatly.

“What does school have anything to do with it?  I took my GED anyway.  I’m done with high school stuff,”  she raised a brow at her father.  

“You don’t like hunting, right?”  He returned her question with a question.

“No, but it has worked for you.”

“I had to.  I didn’t have a choice.  Enroll in something.  Get an education.  You’re too smart to be sitting here.”

“So I’m stupid?  Thanks, Dad.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean. Do something with your life.  I don’t want this life for you.  You deserve better than your dad and uncle leaving you for days to fend for yourself.”  Dean was irritated.  

“I’ll get a job.  It will be fine.”

“Bull- you will not be like-”

“You?  What’s wrong with that?”  Scout stood up to match her father’s stance.

“Sam and I have the weight of the world on our shoulders.  I just don’t want you to live in constant stress.”

“I don’t want you to either, but guess we can’t have what we want!”  Scout stomped down the hallway into her room.

________

“Ah!” Scout screamed when she saw a man appear in the bunker during a conversation between herself and her uncle. She stood up and started to attack when Sam got her attention.

“Stand down!” Sam yelled. “He’s a friend.”

She relaxed in her seat.

“Ummm… did he just come from nowhere?”

Cas looked at her confusedly.

“Cas?”  Dean entered the room.

“Dean! You guys okay?” Cas was frantic.

“Yeah, we’re good. Good to see you,” Dean said calmly as he gave Cas a hug.

Scout didn’t understand what was going on.

She looked at Sam and gestured to her dad and his friend. “Are they gay or something?” She asked innocently.

Sam spit out his drink.

“Well…” Sam left it open for interpretation.

“No! We aren’t gay! He's a friend,” Dean justified. “Did you not hear our prayers, Cas?” He turned from Scout to his angel friend.

“Wait, what?  Prayers?” Scout thought her hearing skills were in question.

“He’s an angel,” Sam responded plainly.

“Huh. Interesting.”

“No- I didn’t hear your prayers while in heaven. Angel radio was full of static for an extended period,” Cas brought back the original conversation.

“Well, meet my daughter, -“

“Kansas,” Cas finished.

“I go by Scout, but yeah. Impressive. I like him,” she giggled.

“You aren’t freaked out that there are angels?”  Sam asked her.

“Well, there are demons, so no.  I guess not,” Scout responded. “I like the idea of angels.”

“You shouldn’t. They’re dicks,” Cas replied seriously.

“Wait, what?”

———-

“Dean!”  Sam yelled through the bunker.  The older Winchester stomped out of his room with bed head-style hair.

“WHAT?”  He yelled back.  “Why are you screaming at me at six in the morning?”  Dean walked over to his younger brother and wacked him on the back of his head.

“Ow!”  Sam pushed Dean away.  “I was going to tell you that I haven’t heard from Scout for the past few days.  Have you seen her?”

“Ummm… I’m not sure.” he shrugged.

Dean’s mood changed.  He and Sam ran to the daughter’s room.

“Scouty?”  Dean roared through the door. They heard a moan.  “I hope you’re decent, kid.  We’re comin’ in!”

As they entered, they saw her sprawled out on her bed, limbs everywhere.

“Hi,” she rasped.

“Sick?”  Sam asked.  

Scout nodded.  Sam checked her head for a fever while Dean pulled out some fresh clothes for her.  

“Shower and then meds,”  Dean said sternly.  

“Dean, I’m fine.”

“You stink, and you didn’t tell us, let’s go.”

“Gee, thanks,” Scout huffed. 

“Always here for support.  Come on, I’ll walk you to the bathroom,”  he bent down to stabilize her.

“Fine.  I know I’ll lose a fight to a gigantor and an angry Dean anyway,”  she said sarcastically.  

————

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

[nomnivore1]

35, 41, 59, 79, 85, 88, 96, 121, 144, 180, 189, 195, 219, 224 wow lol that’s a lot

34- Are you nice to everyone?

the answer is yes, mostly. Because some people are assholes. 

41- Share 2 habits:

sleeping way too fucking much and biting my nails. it’s a weird mix of being anxious and being exhausted. 

59- Five weird things that you like:

1. i’ve been weirdly into tonic water lately, it’s replaced seltzer as my go-to drink. seltzer was to replace soda cause i drank way too much of that. 

2. i fucking love nudibranchs. the little tiny sea slugs with the lungs-out look. so groovy. so squishy. 

3. Red Dwarf and Blackadder. two old-ish BBC comedy shows that are incredibly underappreciated. 

4. planes. I really fucking like planes. especially engines. and spacecraft. that’s why i’m an aerospace major. as i write this im raving to someone about the B1 Lancer, a variable wingsweep supersonic bomber. 

5. i guess my music taste is a little weird. its a mix of indie rock, punk, and ska, and my friends can only tolerate parts of it. 

79- What’s your favourite scent? And on the opposite sex?

i wear old spice and nautica. if i’’m being honest i get it from my dad, thats what he used to wear when i was little and it reminds me of working on our old boat with him. 

on the opposite sex, i definitely prefer natural scents, like vanilla and stuff, over manufactured perfumes, but the particular scents i like tend to be more subject to who they remind me of and what the person i’m with wears. 

85- Favorite place to shop at?

i don’t do a ton of shopping, but there’s a sporting goods shop in my hometown called Bill Jackson’s that had an annual diving gear sale, and a really reliable diving center. there’s a place i go to shot when im on the gulf coast called Shooter’s World, and while it kind of caters to the tacticool kind of shooter, it also has a decent selection of sporting guns and handguns, plus the people there put any political rhetoric out the window, i’ve never heard any weird 2nd-amendment-rights bullshit while i’m there. the range officers are really reliable too, its a place i feel safe and comfortable shooting at. 

88- Are you more like your mom or your dad?

probably my dad, but i take after both of them. my temper comes from my dad. he’s the kind of person that has a short temper and no time for bullshit, but has spent his life learning to handle that. i’ve never seen him raise a hand against someone, ive never seen him become unjustifiably angry or violent. im hot-blooded as he is and i’m working to be as level-headed as he is. i get my politics from him. he’s pragmatic and reasonable, but not emotionally disconnected. 

i get my smartassery from my mom, and my moral compass is a weird amalgam of my mom’s family’s compassion and my dad’s reasoning. they’re both good people, even if they watch weird anime. my mom also spends a lot of time outside working on her plants, and ive done a good bit of yard work with her, but they both raised me to be an outside kid.

96- Where would you like to live?

anywhere with ocean. i like the Caribbean, it’s familiar waters are something i understand, but the planet is heating up and it’s getting less and less pleasant to live in Florida. as long as there’s a coastline, where i can sail and dive, somewhere with living, breathing ocean, i’ll settle down. 

121- What is the first thing you noticed in someone?

it’s never the same. i usually look for intelligence and compassion. also, self-sufficiency and independence. strong women good. 

144- What turns you on?

huge fan of intense intimacy. making out is extra groovy. fingers in hair, neck kissing, intense making out. as far as stuff like BDSM goes, i’m into it, but its subjective to my partner. if the girl i’m with isn’t into it, there’s no point in it. definitely a butt person, and i definitely like noise. silent sex is only fun if you need to be silent.  

Had to come back to add this: eating pussy is very good and men who don't do it are both cowards and missing out.

180- Share a song that takes you to a certain memory in the past:

The Wheel by The Grateful Dead. specifically, the recording from their performance at the Knickerbocker arena in Albany. also, Ruby Soho by Rancid. my dad used to have a mix CD that he made that he would play on long car rides, and i used to fall asleep to that Grateful Dead song. 

189- What’s something you can see yourself going to jail for?

hospitalizing someone. i’m generally careful about things that would put me in jail, because that poses a risk to my security clearance in the future, which i need to work in most of the aerospace industry. but i’m six feet tall and i wear big black combat boots and if anyone lays a finger on someone i care about i’ll kick their teeth out. there was this guy bothering a girl i’m friends with and my brother and i were preparing to show up to his dorm as a brute squad and tell him to step down. she talked to him first and he handled it better than we expected. i still wanted to throw him into the mosh pit at the Authority Zero show,  but axel talked me out of that.

195- You’re an Action Movie Hero. What’s your weapon of choice and the line you scream when defeating your arch enemy?

gun. i’m good at guns, they’re pretty effective. i think, uh, something like “when you get to hell tell them who sent you” but i’m not usually one for drama like that. 

219- Which movie character do you most identify with and why?

I really like Kale Tucker from Titan A.E., he’s a bum on a ship in space, i grew up as a bum on a sailboat. we both like heavy metal and space babes. he’s also voiced by Matt Damon, which is why matt damon seems so natural in sci-fi movies to me. 

224- Something that you’re proud of:

i work really well under pressure. i tend to be an anxious mess until something actually goes wrong and i need to react and then i switch modes. i think its from diving, where all you have is the stuff you brought down with you (including air) and you have to keep completely cool if something goes wrong. i have lots of first aid and emergency response training/experience as an eagle scout, and being ready to respond if something bad happens is a skill im happy to have. 

if you haven’t gone and followed this absolute babe yet go do it. 

[hari-writes]

Little Louis Dupain-Cheng - Chapter 18

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Pairings: Adrien/Marinette Summary: In the seven years since Hawk Moth’s defeat, much has changed. Adrien Agreste PhD returns to Paris and is reunited with his friends. Marinette has a degree in Fashion Design, a thriving boutique and a son, six-year-old Louis. Louis is like his mother in many ways, except for green eyes and a familiar smile… Will Adrien do the maths?

Read on A03 ★★★ Buy me a coffee?

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

Miraculous

Three months later…

Adrien was woken that Saturday night by someone banging on the apartment door. Insistent, loud knocking that was likely to wake the whole building if he didn’t do something about it.

“Mama! Papa! There’s someone at the door.” Louis called redundantly from his bedroom.

“Thanks, son, I’d never have guessed,” He muttered sleepily.

He looked at the clock in the bedroom, it was 4am. As he left his room to investigate, he picked up his phone and noticed dozens of missed calls from Nino and Kim. That woke him up. The last time his friends called him this incessantly was when Gabriel escaped from hospital.

That thought was at the top of his mind when he looked through the spyhole and couldn’t see anyone.  

“Dude! Open up! I can see your shadow under the door.” It was Alix.

He breathed a sigh of relief, unbolted the door and opened it.

Alix grinned and looked Adrien up and down, which was when he remembered that slept in pyjama bottoms and no top.

“Nice abs. I think I pulled the long straw here. Kim had to go wake up Chloe and there’s no way she looks this good at four in the morning,” She leered, “The Chat Noir hair really sets off the effect, by the way.”

“Not that I don’t love having you come to my house at WTF o’clock to ogle me, but are you here for a reason?” He asked grumpily.

“Oh, yeah. Alya’s in labour.” Alix said, “And we need to get to the hospital.”

Adrien’s brain immediately woke up at the news. “M’Lady! Louis!” He shouted.

“Yeah, yeah, we heard foghorn-Kubdel there,” Marinette grumbled, fully dressed and pulling a felt fedora over her bed hair.

Louis came bounding down the stairs behind her. He was a morning person, something he definitely got from Adrien. Marinette was currently swearing at her boots and trying to put them on the wrong feet.

“Kid, you need a sweater, it’s February.” Adrien sent his son back up the stairs. “And bring a book or something, there might be a long wait.”

He followed Louis upstairs to throw some jeans, a shirt and a sweater on himself. This was dizzyingly exciting, he couldn't even begin to imagine how Nino must be feeling right now.

“Marinette..?” He found her in the kitchen, “Bugaboo, we can get food there. We have to go.”

Marinette looked defiantly at him and pushed a packet of potato chips into her bag. She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl as she passed and he couldn’t help but laugh. Over the past few weeks, it had become more unusual to see her not eating. She claimed it was due to low blood sugar, all Adrien knew was that his food bill had quadrupled since she and Louis moved in.

Adrien eventually herded his family and Alix out the apartment and they reached the hospital in time to see a grinning Nino in surgical scrubs, emerging from a swing door.

“Miles Lahiffe-Césaire has arrived,” Nino beamed at them. “There were complications during labour so Al had to have a c-section. She’s okay, though, they have her in recovery. Miles is perfect, do you want to meet him?”

Everyone squealed in assent, but the desk clerk told them they would have to wait until Alya was back in the ward and even then, they could only go in two at a time with Nino. They didn’t mind waiting, especially when Marinette produced a picnic from her pockets.

Kim, Chloe, Alix, Louis, Marinette and Adrien ate their snacks, accompanied with excited chatter about the newest member of their extended family. Nino would occasionally pop out to give them a progress report on Alya and Miles.

Eventually, they were able to see baby Miles. Marinette and Louis went in first, then Adrien and Chloe.

“Can I hold him?” He asked.

“Of course you can, Uncle Adrien,” Alya smiled.

She looked exhausted, but her eyes were alert. Nino was the same. Adrien held out his arms and Alya placed Miles into them. He pulled him in close to his body and gazed at the tiny life in front of him. He was perfect. He had beautiful caramel skin and a smattering of black hair on his head. Little, chubby hands, bunched into fists were held up by his face. Adrien looked to Alya with tears shining in his eyes.

“You’re amazing, Al. You made him.” He said.

“Hey, I helped make him.” Nino objected.

“Yeah, but Alya grew him. That’s crazy.” Adrien explained. “He’s gorgeous and you made him.”

Chloe placed her hand on his shoulder. “I think someone is broody.”

Adrien looked at her and rolled his eyes. Then he thought, maybe I am . He’d followed Alya’s pregnancy with interest and was almost as excited as Nino about the prospect of another baby in the group. He assumed he was just happy for them, but now, with Miles in his arms, he knew wanted this for himself.

He was delighted to be a father to Louis and knew that if there were no other kids on his horizon, he would be fulfilled. Louis and he had grown close over the past few months, since it was confirmed that they were father and son. They were seeing a family counsellor (mostly Marinette and Adrien, but they also had sessions with Louis) and had worked out a lot of the issues that had almost driven them apart. As a family unit, they were strong.

Would it be so bad to add another member to the family?

Would Marinette even want another baby? It wasn’t something they had discussed yet.

After Chloe and Adrien left Alya, Nino and Miles’ room, it was Kim and Alix’s turn. The remaining four waited in silence. They were all deep in thought. Louis got his book out and started reading, his eyes looked heavy, it was now 9am and the early reveille was catching up with them all.

When Kim and Alix emerged, Nino came with them to say that he needed to go home and grab a few things for Alya. The group agreed to wait a while longer for him before returning to their own homes (and beds, Adrien was sure). Kim and Alix offered to get some coffees for everyone, otherwise they’d all be dozing off by the time Nino was ready to leave.

“Adrien? There’s a packet of palmiers in my bag, can you grab them?” Marinette asked when she saw them coming back, laden with cardboard cups.

He opened her cavernous tote and lifted the packet of biscuits out to pass to her, when he noticed something else.

“Is that… a pregnancy test, Mari?” He whispered to her, aware that their son and friends were in earshot.

She nodded solemnly. “I’m late. I thought I should take a test.”

“And?” He asked.

“I haven’t done it yet.” She said.

“Do it now! I need to know!” Adrien laughed, “Please?”

Marinette took her bag from him. She looked to where Louis was leaning against Chloe, reading Clément Aplati, oblivious to anything the adults were saying.

“Chloe, can you watch Louis, please?” Chloe nodded.

Marinette grabbed Adrien’s hand and dragged him towards the toilets.

“Wait here.” She told him and disappeared into the ladies room.

Adrien leaned against the wall, impatient for Marinette to emerge. His mind was racing. He was overwhelmingly delighted at the prospect of a baby, but wary of getting his hopes up until Marinette had taken the test. How long did these things take? He had just started pacing when she emerged clutching a white and blue plastic stick.

“I can’t look.” She thrust it into his hands. “One line or two?”

He turned it over, “Two. What does that mean?”

“It means,” She grinned, “That in roughly 35 weeks from now, you’re going to be a papa again.”

Adrien spun Marinette around in his excitement, his cheering attracting the attention of their friends. Chloe shushed them and he couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping his lips.

Another 15 weeks later…

The past four months had been something of a blur.

After they broke the news to Louis that he was going to be a big brother, he immediately headed upstairs to pick out which toys he was going to let his little brother or sister play with. He appeared on the landing with an armful of jagged plastic and asked, “Do babies like dinosaurs?” He was excited at the prospect of a sibling.

Marinette went into overdrive to secure a new boutique manager and increased her Saturday girl’s contract to cover Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Mme. Couquet and Marinette scouted locations for a second boutique in every free moment. She was serious about expanding her business and the sudden timeline the new baby had given them was driving her forwards.

Adrien read every baby book Nino and Ivan had, plus four or five more he found in the library. He offered to change nappies, help with bottle feeds and bathe Miles whenever he could. He ensured he cooked meals that were high in all the nutrients Marinette needed for energy and to nourish the baby. Adrien and Louis painted the third bedroom in preparation for transforming it into a nursery.

Now, in the clinic, they were ready to find out if Louis was getting a brother or sister.

“You know, if we’re having a boy, we’ll have to explain to Louis that we can’t name it ‘Thor’?” Marinette said.

“I dunno, I like the name…” Adrien teased.

“Well, maman et pere, you don’t have to worry about that,” The sonographer smiled, “You are having a girl.”

Adrien's heart soared. A girl! Marinette squeezed his hand and he looked at his partner, grinning back at him, eyes twinkling with joy.

“Are you happy with a daughter?” She asked.

He nodded vehemently. A daughter!

“Marinette? I know you had your heart set on Emma for a girl,” he said, “but I wonder if you’d consider Emilie?”

"Emilie,” Marinette repeated. “It’s beautiful.”

FIN.