#but also poor earth was so sad seeing him a little broken BUT HIS SMILE GOES ONNNNN

[socksandbuttons]

hilarious there is in fact the sweet bby ruin in that amalgam virus man esp while i already made a ruin eclipse for my space au a week or ago, interesting interesting.

[astaroth1357]

IT'S RAINING (DEMON) MEN!!!

I asked my sister for a prompt to get my creativity going. She played this song. Nuff said.

Intro:

It's been two months since the MC went back to the human world, and the demon boys are getting desperate to see their human… How desperate are we talking? Desperate enough to try their hands at some questionable sanctioned magic to get themselves to the human world... Good news is, they'll get there!

Just probably not in the way they expected. 🤷‍♀️🤭

Lucifer

He is going to KILL Mammon the next time he gets a hold of him…

He had no intention of taking an impromptu trip to the human world. He actually has clearance to go there when he needs to, thank you, so he didn't need to use any underhanded tricks to go between realms...

But he had made the mistake of walking too carelessly into Mammon's room while looking for a book he stole and stepped on a sigil half-obscured by an old pizza box…

...which is how he ended up falling from the Devildom to the human world at an unimaginable speed. It was like someone was yanking him to the Earth by the goddamn foot!

The unsuspecting MC was just out window shopping when suddenly an empty parked car across the street was utterly decimated by his falling body…

Of course, HE was fine, but that poor car never stood a chance… 😣 They had to help Lucifer pry himself out from the caved-in metal…

While he watched the MC fuss and try to brush all the broken glass off of him, Lucifer had only three things in mind:

(1) They look so cute when they're worried about him for practically no reason...

(2) Since he's already here, he may as well keep them company for… oh, a couple days at least?; and

(3) He was going to punish Mammon slightly less brutally than usual this time… May just fling him into a car too and leave it at that. 😌

Mammon

Okay, Mammon isn't stupid. He can do magic, he swears!!

He's just… rusty. Yeah. That. 🙄

That's the only reason the sigil that he haphazardly drew in his bedroom flung him to the human world like a catapult instead of neatly teleporting him like it was supposed to...

When the MC woke up that morning, they heard something familiar… Sad, pitiful little cries for help from outside their bedroom window….

Really only one person sprang right to their mind.

When they ran out to check, they indeed found Mammon tangled up in a tree like a wooden spider's web... He wasn't even facing upright!

It took them a half hour to detangle their poor demon from the tree… They almost gave up halfway through and had to call the fire department to pull him out like a trapped kitten... 🤦‍♀️

To say that Mammon was pretty clingy after they got him down hardly covers it. They were now his savior! (Yet again)

They had better not have any plans for the next day or two because he's going to want to spend every second he can with them… 

Or at least until Lucifer finds him and drags him back home by the back of the neck… 😰 (Hope they don't mind housing this figurative fugitive for a while…)

Leviathan

So in his defense, he didn't actually think the "Return to Lover" spell he saw on TSL would work, but he got so desperate to see MC again that he half-jokingly tried it one night...

Unfortunately for him, he also forgot that Simeon tends to use a lot of real-world influences in his writing, so… 😥

He hadn't wanted to be dragged to the human world quite so violently, and let's say he is NOT a graceful faller (arm flailing, girly screaming, spinning all over the place, etc.). 

Only when the smell of beach sand and sea salt hit his nose did he begin to calm down a little and get a good look at the surroundings he was hurtling towards… The ocean!

Video game logic dictates that if you land in water, you should be fine, right?? (Well, that's not how it works in real life, but when you're in a super sturdy demon body, there can be expectations 🤷‍♀️)

The MC was not expecting someone to splash down into the water next to them like they fell out of Heaven, nor for them to enter the water with the poise of an Olympic high diver…

They REALLY weren't expecting to see Levi surface beside them, demon form in the all it's sea serpent-y glory, totally stoked that the stupid thought he had actually brought him to them!

… Of course, he also has no idea how to get back, but who actually cares about that?? Lucifer will figure out he's not in his room eventually. For now, there wasn't anything in the ocean or beyond that could separate the MC from their adorkable otaku… 🤭

Satan

Okay. Teleportation magic is hard. Very, very hard. It basically requires bypassing several different physical laws by breaking down one's essence into a transmigrational-uh...

Whatever, the point is it's difficult, and mistakes happen even to the best of us.

Satan genuinely thought he triple-checked the symbols on his sigil… He must have made a crooked stroke or forgot a step in completing the seal properly… Either way, the spell he intended to bring him right to MC might have made a… slight miscalculation.

Rather than effortlessly stepping out beside them, he found himself hurtling towards the human world like a falling comet… If he hadn't known a few spells that could slow down his fall, he'd have had a pretty nasty meet with the ground... 😣

The MC was visiting a local park when pretty much everyone in their vicinity heard the sound of trees rapidly snapping nearby. At first, they were concerned it was a large animal… and then Satan stumbled out covered in twigs and leaves!

They, of course, ran over to see if he was alright, and the cheeky bastard just denied that anything had gone wrong. "Apparently," this was all according to plan… 

(Truthfully, he'd rather call Mammon some unsung genius than admit that he got the spell wrong, even if it was complex… 🙄)

Truthfully, Satan wasn't going to try making a return sigil for a while, so at least he and MC could be together for a time! Do they know if there were any cat cafes nearby??

Asmodeus

Asmo was PISSED at Solomon, furious even because he wouldn't help him sneak away to go see his beloved human! Didn't he know how hard the distance was on him?? The nerve!!! 😤

So, to him, it only seemed fair to steal some of the sorcerer's tomes and equipment… If he wouldn't help him in person, he could at least (unknowingly) do so in spirit!

… He just wasn't expecting the spells to be that difficult. Asmo is decent enough at magic, but some of those explanations were honestly beyond him… They bordered well into Satan or even Lucifer territory...

He tried his best, he really did, but the gentle teleportation that he was after actually flung him to the human world like he had been shot out of a cannon…! And while it was raining in the human world too!! 😫

The MC was walking home in the rain, umbrella and everything, when they heard screaming from the sky...

Thankfully, Asmo remembered just enough magic to cushion his fall… But that didn't save him from landing right into a massive puddle right next to the MC, effectively soaking them both.

On any other day, he'd have been angry that his expensive clothes were covered in rainwater, but that day? The second he saw the MC was there (and also tastefully soaked in water 😏), he just flung himself at them with a squeal of delight!

The MC had to convince him to let them get inside before they got too cold, but every step of the way was full of laughter and cuddles between the two of them...

Asmo would have to call Solomon to fess up to his theft, but hey, he got to see MC out of it! The bruised tailbone and ruined clothes were more than worth a treat like that.

Beelzebub

Beel genuinely wasn't intending to go to the human world; he really wasn't. He hated the distance like everyone else, but he knew better than to mess with magic that dangerous…

What happened was that he was walking by Satan's room one day and he smelt something inside… apples. A lot of them. He just couldn't help himself…

He didn't know that Satan was using those apples as test subjects for his teleportation magic… Unfortunately, the first fruit that he grabbed actually put him right smack dab in the middle of an incomplete sigil…

Beel kind of blacked out for whatever happened during the next part, it happened really fast, but it was the smell of more apples that woke him back up… and pears, peaches, pineapples, plums-

It's a farmer's market. Beel fell into the apple stand of a farmer's market….

The MC was out shopping there when they heard two things: the screams of shock and horror from the end of the market and a familiar voice shouting, "I'M HUNGRY!!!"

Of course they ran towards the screaming, defying all survival instincts (because who else are we talking about here?) and found Beel, mid-rampage, eating every scrap of food he could get his hands on…

But he actually stopped when he heard them shout his name. That's right, he stopped eating right then and there to turn and see them in the crowd... Oh, the smile that popped up on his face could have reignited a sun!

Beel had no idea how he got there and even less idea of getting back, so the MC had to eventually call Lucifer. They did get to spend the day with their gentle giant, though! (Just don't mention the massive bill for all the fruit he ate… 😣)

Belphegor

So here's the story. Belphie was sleeping in the library, as he sometimes does, and the next thing he knew, he was free-falling through the sky.

No, he didn't know what happened either. Maybe he rolled onto a stray sigil Satan left behind. Perhaps he was accidentally summoned to the human world. Mayhaps he even dreamed about MC so hard that it broke a rift in space-time to try and bring the two together... 

Who the hell knows? His more pressing concern was less how he got up there and more where he would end up.

Unfortunately for him, all he could see below him was a human residential area, and even worse yet, it looked like he was hurtling towards someone's roof… The MC's roof, to be exact!

MC was incredibly lucky to have already been up and starting their morning routine when the seventh-born came crashing onto their bed. Who knows how much damage he could have done if he had landed on them...??

That didn't change their shock to see Belphie, covered in plaster and wood fragments, sitting himself up while looking more annoyed to have been woken up than that he… you know... crashed through their roof...

He was grateful to have popped up close to them because it would have been pretty awkward to land in some random human's room. The MC was… less enthused that they now had some significant repairs to do.

Smooth-talker he is, Belphie not only managed to convince them that Lucifer would take care of the payment (which he would) but also not to call him just yet. Not until he could get himself cleaned off and maybe have a nap or two… Say, they weren't going anywhere today, right? Good. 😏

Check out my Masterlist for more wacky ideas.

[lexwritess]

incorrect quotes anon, i have a super angsty idea that i think you’ll LOVE. so basically michael x reader but she died at on of the outpost, and were basically the only good part about michael and him not caring about anything anymore (even more than usual lmao). and it’s just grief and sadness and anger. it’s fine if not, if you do i’d love to make incorrect quote for it also! have a great day/night!!!! ❤️❤️

broken promises [m.l.]

pairing: michael langdon x fem!reader

warnings: angst, death, swearing, blood, i don’t think this is accurate i tried to research on lilith but it was difficult but i liked the idea so this version of lilith is mostly based off the one from caos

a/n: i got a little carried away lmao

words: 1.6k

slightly au! i’m going to pretend michael can’t bring dead people back ✌️

y/n is a witch. but she’s a different kind of witch. she was born for a very specific purpose, one that she didn’t even understand yet. she knew she was different though.

she really knew she was different when her supreme, cordilia, tried to kill her.

she ran away from her sisters that night. she didn’t need cordilia to kill her. she already felt dead. defeated. the only real family she’s had wanted her dead.

that’s when she met michael.

michael despised all witches, but there was something about y/n that dragged him to her. the two of them were like magnets and they both felt it. the world always pulling them towards each other.

she met michael when he was at a loss. y/n wasn’t the only one cordilia hurt that day.

y/n found michael in the woods, he looked ill and lost.

y/n brought him to a dark church she saw a couple days prior. they found a woman there that was eager to help them back on their feet and get them well and nourished.

that was a big step for michael. after that visit michael finally got sense of himself. unfortunately, y/n still didn’t understand her purpose.

“i want to help michael, i really do but i don’t know what i’m suppose to do. you’re the antichrist! i’m just a rejected witch.” y/n tells michael gloomily.

tomorrow was a big day for him, he was getting back his ms. mead. of course y/n was happy for him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he wouldn’t need her anymore.

“you are so much more than that. you are more powerful than you think and you are a big help to me. and even if you don’t serve a purpose for the apocalypse i care about you and want you by my side.” michael looks into your eyes and grabs your hands.

that’s where y/n and michael shared their first kiss.

“can you help him or not.” you interrupt the two idiotic coke heads.

“oh. who’s this?” mutt said cockily.

“she’s a witch on my side. her coven tried to kill her. don’t get any ideas though she’s mine.” michael said protectively.

you can’t help but smirk to yourself.

“alright, sorry. please don’t light me on fire.” mutt says defensively.

this is the second time michaels been here. this time he decided to bring you along so maybe you could get an idea what to do next if jeff and mutt didn’t.

“do you have some special marking on you, or have demonic fire powers?” jeff asks you while mutt looks for something to help michael.

y/n shows him the upside down triangle that appeared on her wrist about a month ago.

“not going to lie, that’s kinda lame.” jeff says disappointed.

y/n gives the man a glare and with the wave of her hand the glass bowl of cocaine was now broken across the floor.

“WHAT THE FU-.” jeff yelled before mutt stepped in.

“we can worry about it later. look at the book of revelations. have you read it?” mutt asks.

michael looks at them before opening the book with his magic.

y/n flips through the book when michael is done looking for anything else.

“who is lilith?” y/n ask monotone.

“lilith is technically a witch. she was the wife of adam but refused to sleep with him. eventually she went and sided with the devil. the devil turned on her. lots of variations and stories of her. no ones quite totally sure.” jeff explains.

y/n looks at michael with a skeptical look on her face and he gives one back.

“holy shit, you’re totally lilith! but for the new world!” mutt exclaims.

y/n stands up and look down upon the two.

“how would you know?” y/n raised her eyebrows at them.

“you’re coven tried to kill you, you just so happen to be with the antichrist, the triangle on your arm...makes sense.” jeff says.

y/n stays still staring at them. they gulp under her gaze before she walks out of the room.

michael hurries after the girl, needing to know what’s on her mind.

“y/n, what is the matter dear?” michael asks, linking his pinky with hers.

“i do not want to be lilith.” y/n says strongly.

“if being lilith means i will lose you in the end i don’t want it!” she lets go of michaels pinky and storms off to the car.

“darling you will never lose me! i may have to follow my fathers plans to end this world, but i’m still in charge!” michael yells to y/n.

“promise me!” y/n yells back, finally walking towards micheal.

“promise me.” y/n repeats, this time her tone barley above a whisper.

“i promise.”

-

2 years later

present time

the apocalypse is here. the world is gone. hell is on earth.

and you’ve been by michaels side the whole time.

he kept his promise

and now you were standing in front of your ex-coven.

they were back to kill you, again.

“come back to finish the job?” you bitterly ask cordilia.

“i had no choice! you were made for evil, i was never going to be able to peel you away from him and you would always choose him over your sisters!” cordilia yells.

“well michael never tried to kill me like you did! you were the only family i had!” you yell back, tears brimming your eyes.

you furrow your brows trying to hear what cordilia was mumbling but before you realized it’s too late.

“ms mead!” michael cried.

cordilia had killed his ms mead again.

“fuck you!” you say angerly stepping closer to cordilia.

as you walk closer cordilia is pushed back by your magic, a trail of fire leading behind you.

“how are you doing that?” madison asks in shock.

“because i’m the new supreme.” you smirk.

cordilia laughs bitterly and you look back at her.

“you can never be the supreme. you are a demoness! you are and never will be a real witch!” cordilias words burn in your brain as the realization hits you.

“mallory.” you whisper to yourself.

“precisely.” cordilia smiles.

while michael was having his last moments with ms mead, in the corner of your eye you saw madison grab the machine gun and go to point it at michael.

“repellendum malum minitar, ut nobis!” you quickly shout the protection spell.

you repeat the spell and step closer to michael.

“tutela eorum vinculum!” cordilia starts chanting against your spell.

you repeat the spell but as she gets closer the sheild starts breaking.

“et defendat mea!” you shout louder. the shield starts breaking as the other witches join in on cordilias chants.

“amans vitae meae praesidium.” you say quietly before the shield breaks.

bullets shoot throughout the room before your bloody body slumps against the wall. you feel awful, they shot you enough to make you weak so you can’t heal, but strong enough to let you bleed out.

“y/n?” michael says quietly, before he is shot as well.

myrtle cuts a piece of michaels hair and walks back to mallory.

“hurry mallory, before he heals.” cordilia rushes, and the witches leave the room.

michael wakes and looks over to see y/n’s bloody body.

“y/n! no, no, no!” michael lifts you up so he can hold you.

“michael you have to listen to me.” you cough, as the metallic taste fills your mouth.

“i can save you, i know father can. just stay with me a little longer.” michael pleads.

you smile at him and shake your head.

“listen, don’t kill cordilia. i’m not the supreme it’s mallory. she will go back and kill you in a past timeline, so none of this will never happen.”

“i have to! look what they did to you!” tears fall from his face.

“michael baby, i’ll be okay. i’ll be okay, but you got to make sure you don’t kill cordilia. it’ll bring mallory’s powers to full strength.” you assure him.

michael shakes his head as more tears fall from his crystal blue eyes.

“i love you, i love you so much. i’ll be with you soon.” michael squeezes your hand.

“i love you too michael, so much.” you let out a shaky sigh and squeeze his hand back.

“goodbye michael.” you smile as your eyes start to close.

“no, don’t say goodbye! baby please open your eyes again.” michael weeps.

“fuck! i wasn’t suppose to lose you. i wasn’t suppose to leave you, i fucking promised!” michael screams, while his sobs continue.

“it’s too late langdon.” cordilias chill voice fills michaels ears.

michaels sadness quickly turns to anger as he turns around to see the bitches smug face.

“you killed the love of my life!” michael shrieks.

cordilia hums and stares back at michael before waving the knife out of his hand into hers.

before michael can do or say anything cordilia rams the knife into her chest.

michael is at a loss for words.

he have lost

“no!” he screamed as cordilia fell to her death.

“no.” he repeated while falling to his knees.

he puts his face in his hands and starts sobbing.

he has lost everyone and now he lost the war.

he lost everything because of a job he never asked to have.

“poor michael.” myrtal said quietly while walking over to him.

“please! please just kill me.” michael says defeated.

“you’re the antichrist at his full form. i’m afraid killing you is impossible. you’ll have to live knowing you’ll never have her again.” myrtal says while waking away.

michaels cries continue.

he’ll never see you again.

you’ll never see him again.

in the new timeline he doesn’t exist to you and never will.

that’s what truly killed him.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Both of You

Tony x Reader based on this request!

Warnings: mention of nightmares

Word Count: 1803

a/n: This one makes me feel warm inside. We're just pretending Pepper does not exist because any mention of killing her off is too sad for me to deal with right now. Tony deserves happiness. Featuring The Best Day by Taylor Swift.

Also, I'm currently working on a Reid request, two Steve fics, and an idea I had for Bucky, but somehow this one was the one that got me motivated.

Masterlist

You were relaxing, aka being forced to recover from a gunshot wound before going on any more missions, on the couch in the living room for the third night in a row. To say you were absolutely bored would be underselling it.

You spent the past few days alone roaming the compound because everyone else was out on missions. Typically this would mean hanging out with Morgan, but Happy's been monopolizing her time.

You were just about to start another movie when your phone started ringing.

"Where are you?" The voice was desperate.

"Nice to hear from you Happy. How are you, today?" You sassed him back.

"Y/N, I'm serious." His tone put you on high alert.

"I'm in the main living room, what happened?" You sat up from the couch, ready to come to him at a moments notice.

"I'm in the elevator, I'll explain in a minute." He hung up before you could ask any follow up questions.

You were up and standing at the elevator in no time, anxiously awaiting Happy's arrival.

After what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the elevator carrying a sleeping Morgan in his arms. He walked past you to set her on the couch before explaining.

"May had a bit of an emergency, I need to go pick her up. She's fine, just a little shaken up. Can you watch Morgan?" You could see the lingering fear in his eyes.

"Of course. Please, let me know if there's anything else I can do!" You spoke in a fast whisper, getting the words out quickly but quietly to account for Happy already boarding the elevator and Morgan still asleep in the living room.

"I'll call you if anything else happens."

And with that he was gone.

You made your way back into the living room while trying to decide if you should bring Morgan back up to her bed. She would sleep better there, but you might wake her up on the way.

You were just about to pick her up when she let out a strangled sob.

"Morgan?" She still appeared to be asleep, but her face showed fear. "Morgan, honey, wake up."

You spoke gently while running a hand soothingly through her hair. Despite your best efforts, she woke with a start. Her little fingers balled into fists, tears pooling in her eyes before you could say anything.

"Morgan, it's okay! You're okay. I'm here." You gathered her in your arms to rock her back and forth. "You're okay. Everything's okay."

You continued rocking her back and forth while whispering words of affirmation until her crying stopped.

"I- I want my- my dad." She hiccuped.

"Oh sweetheart, he's not home right now." It broke your heart to disappoint her. "Do you wanna tell me when you dreamed about?"

She nodded slowly, but clung to your arms.

"I had a bad dream." You could tell she was till scared. "There was a monster and he took Peter away!" She was getting worked up again.

"Peter's fine, baby. Do you want me to call him?" You spoke softly while reaching into your pocket for your phone.

She nodded solemnly. "With video, please."

"Of course, honey."

It didn't take long for you to facetime Peter. You could only hope that he would answer on the first try. While it rung, you angled the phone against a candle on the table to include you and Morgan in the frame.

"Hi Ms. Y/N- oh! Hi Morgan!" Peter's cheerful voice rung through the living room.

"Hi Pete!" Morgan's voice matched Peter's cheerfulness, but you could still tell she was shaken up.

"See, baby. Peter's okay." You gently prodded her mind to accept that the dream was just that, a dream.

"Petey, I'm so glad you're okay! I was so scared." She ignored your comment, but you could tell the call was helping her.

"Oh Morgan, did you have another nightmare? I'm sorry! You can always call me whenever you need to. I promise." He did well to cheer up the young girl.

You sat back against the couch, just listening to Morgan and Peter conversing for the next hour or so.

"Alright, I think we've got to try to go back to bed now. Say goodbye to Peter."

Morgan pouted, but didn't put up much of a fight.

"Bye Petey! I love you!" She called happily, the nightmare all but forgotten.

"Bye Morgan, I love you too. Bye, Ms. Y/N!" Peter called out.

"Bye, Peter." You smiled as you hung up the phone. "Let's get you up to bed."

"Nooo!" She whined. "Can I just lay down here with you?"

You knew you were a goner the minute she started pouting. With a sigh, you easily gave in to her demands. "Yes, but you still have to sleep."

"Yay! Can you sing to me?" She laid down on the couch, putting her head in your lap.

"Sure, sweetheart. What song?" You began running your hand over her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

"The one about being 5 and having a good day!"

You let out a small chuckle at her description, but you knew the song she meant.

"I'm five years old, it's getting cold. I've got my big coat on. I hear your laugh and look up smiling at you, and run and run."

As soon as you started singing, she closed her eyes and stopped moving around. You didn't really believe her, but she's always said your voice makes her feel calm inside.

"Past the pumpkin patch and the tractor rides, look now, the sky is gold. I hug your legs and fall asleep on the way home."

You were so intently focused on Morgan, that you didn't hear the elevator doors opening and closing just down the hall.

*In the elevator*

"Someone's singing?" Steve phrased it as a question, but he knew he could hear it as the elevator moved up a few floors.

"Who?" Tony, although uninterested, asked.

"I hear it too!" Bucky chimed in, feeling weirdly at peace just from hearing the melody.

Everyone else in the elevator strained their ears to hear the voice, but came up empty until the elevator doors opened.

Slowly, Tony, Steve, Bucky, Nat, Sam, and Wanda piled out of the elevator.

"I don't know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you're not scared of anything at all."

"Y/N..." Tony whispered, so as not to disturb you.

"Why would she be singing?" Wanda questioned. You always refuse to sing karaoke with them, so it doesn't make sense to her that you would be singing to yourself in the middle of the compound.

Suddenly, a much younger voice joined in on the song.

"Don't know if Snow White's house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today."

"Hey, missy. You promised me you'd try to sleep. That means no singing, just listening." Tony felt his smile grow as you playfully scolded his daughter.

"Sorry! Sorry, I'll be quiet." Morgan promised.

The group of Avengers listened as you began singing again. They slowly made their way toward the living room, moving silently so you wouldn't hear them and stop singing.

"There is a video I found from back when I was three. You set up a paint set in the kitchen and you're talking to me."

Tony was just far enough past the doorway to peak over the edge of the couch. The sight of Morgan curled up in your lap made his heart flutter.

"It's the age of princesses and pirate ships and the seven dwarfs. And Daddy's smart and you're the prettiest lady in the whole wide world."

The entire group of Earth's mightiest heroes wore matching expressions of complete and utter adoration watching you sing to Morgan.

Tony silently gestured for the rest of the group to leave, ultimately staring them down until they did so. He watched as you sang the rest of the song, stroking her hair until she fell into a restful sleep.

"I didn't know if you knew, so I'm taking this chance to say: that I had the best day with you today."

You hummed a bit to ensure Morgan was asleep before you stopped singing entirely.

Tony realized you were going to pick her up, so he softly cleared his throat to gain your attention as he walked around the couch.

The soft smile on his face warmed your heart.

"Hi Tony." You greeted him as he picked up his daughter. "She'll be glad you're home." You decided to leave out the heartbreaking detail of her tears and broken cries for her father.

"Where's Happy?" He questioned lightly.

"C'mon, I'll tell you on the way." You grabbed Morgan's stuffed Iron Man from the couch and started toward the elevator.

"Happy had to go pick up May. He said she was fine, but it was some sort of emergency." You spoke quietly so as not to disturb Morgan.

"Thank you for watching her." Tony couldn't hide the smile that grew on his face at the thought of you and Morgan being so close. "Even if you kept her up way past her bedtime." He added playfully.

"She was actually asleep when Happy brought her down. He was probably going to take her with him if he couldn't find me." You felt yourself start to smile just from looking at Morgan in Tony's arms.

"What happened?" Your smile fell at the memory of Morgan's tear stained face.

"She had a nightmare. Something about a monster hurting Peter." You couldn't stop your eyes from welling up at the memory of how scared and upset Morgan was. "She's okay now though. We talked to Peter for a while on facetime. Well, Morgan talked to Peter. I just rocked her back and forth so she'd stop crying."

"My poor baby." He pressed a kiss to Morgan's forehead, lingering close to her. "Thank you for helping her with that."

"Of course, Tony. She's a brilliant little girl. You're doing a great job raising her."

You let out a small chuckle when you suddenly realized neither of you pushed the button for the residential floor.

Tony laughed as well when you leaned forward to push the button.

You walked with him to Morgan's room, helping to tuck her and her stuffed toy into bed. Just as you gently closed the door, Tony cleared his throat again.

"Y/N, I really mean it. Thank you for being there for her. It means a lot to me." Tony's face show a rare vulnerable side as he spoke. "You mean a lot to me."

"Oh, Tony. You mean a lot to me too." You glanced back at Morgan's bedroom. "Both of you."

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

[buckleyblueyes]

once you find it (it can never be replaced)

Wrote this as a little late birthday present for @diazchristopher! I hope you like it Neethu! Happy belated birthday! 

Summary: It’s not an earth shattering realization, there’s nothing dramatic about it. It’s as simple as it is inevitable (also read on AO3)

Buck realizes he’s in love with Eddie three days before Halloween. It’s not an earth shattering realization, there’s nothing dramatic about it. It’s as simple as it is inevitable. It happens on a Monday morning at the station. The coffee maker breaks on the first cup of the day, and nobody's happy about it. Chimney makes a run to the coffee shop to get them through, but he’s not back yet, and Eddie is glaring daggers at the broken machine, as if he can intimidate it into working again.

“Hey, Bobby, can we get a Hildy?” Albert asks.

Eddie whips around before Bobby can say anything. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. It’s bad enough I have one of those hell machines spying on me at home.” He glances at Buck. “I refuse to let Hildy infiltrate the station.”

Bobby chuckles. “Calm down, Eddie. We couldn’t afford a smart coffee maker anyway.”

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, and Buck can’t help the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips. “You’re ridiculous,” is what he says out loud. “God, I love you,” is what he says in his head. It doesn’t take him by surprise, doesn’t freak him out like maybe it should, given that he’s dating someone who isn’t Eddie. He’s always known his feelings for Eddie were more complicated than simple friendship. He hasn’t let himself dwell on it, has always had good reasons for ignoring the flutter in his chest when Eddie looks at him a certain way, or the warmth that cascades through his body when Eddie finds a reason to touch him (a hand on his shoulders as he passes by, an arm brushed against his, a knee pressed against his thigh in the truck). It was always there, a faint hum in the back of his mind.

Easy to ignore, until suddenly it’s not.

Buck breaks up with Taylor on a Tuesday in November, two weeks after the hum in his mind has graduated to an all encompassing buzzing under his skin, three days before their six month anniversary. It’s not dramatic, or even very painful, for either of them, and Buck knows he made the right decision. He likes Taylor, but he doesn’t love her, and as sad as she is to see him go, he knows that she doesn’t love him either.  

He’s not sure why it takes him so long between the realization and the decision to break things off with Taylor. Maybe it’s because breaking up with Taylor means actually acknowledging that he’s in love with Eddie to someone other than himself. Not that he says it, but he knows it’s implied in the way he says, “I just don’t think this is what I want,” and the way she just nods, like she’s seen this coming. Which she probably has. Subtly has never been Buck’s strong suit.

He announces the breakup the next day at work because Chimney is asking when he’s free to babysit Jee-Yun next and mentions something about not wanting to get in the way of Buck’s relationship and Buck assures him that there’s no relationship to get in the way of. Chimney pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, Buckaroo,” he says with a small smile.

“I’m okay,” Buck insists. “I was the one who broke it off.”

“Oh.” Chimney sounds dumbfounded, which Buck supposes is fair, given how often Buck talks about being lonely. “Why?”

Because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, Eddie choses that moment to step out from the otherside of the ladder truck. “Why what?”

“Buck broke up with Taylor,” Chimney says, like he’s not stepping in the middle of an emotional minefield--after all, none of the mines will blow him up.

Eddie’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. But Buck knows him well enough to see it.

“We wanted different things,” Buck says, shrugging. The bell rings before Eddie or Chimney can ask more questions. Buck sighs in relief.

By the end of shift, everyone at the station knows about the breakup, because Chimney knows, and Chimney loves gossip, and Buck told Chimney he could tell people. It saves him the trouble of having to acknowledge it, lets the word spread without him having to have the same conversation a dozen times. Instead he focuses on his work, pretending not to notice the sympathetic looks his coworkers keep flashing him. Poor Buck, they’re all probably thinking, alone again.

Well. Almost all of them. Buck has no idea what Eddie is thinking, but he’s sure it’s not the same sad sympathy everyone else is exuding because Eddie never even liked Taylor. He’s probably relieved he doesn’t have to make awkward small talk with her again, if anything. Eddie watches Buck like their other coworkers, but the look in his eyes isn’t sympathy. Buck pretends not to notice Eddie’s looks, too.

A week after Buck’s breakup with Taylor, he’s leaning against Eddie’s kitchen counter with a beer in his hand, and Eddie’s at the sink washing dishes (only fair, since Buck cooked dinner). Christopher is in his room working on homework, and the house is quiet, which only serves to emphasize the tension that’s been building between the two men for the last week, like a rubber band slowly pulled taut, just barely held in place between two fingers.

“So,” Eddie starts, in a tone of forced casualness. “How have you been doing since your breakup?”

Buck takes a swig of his beer. “Fine. It was my choice, and I don’t regret it.”

“Your choice,” Eddie echoes, placing the last dish on the drying rack, before turning to face Buck. “Y’know, you never really told me why.”  

Buck gulps. “Eddie…”

“Why did you break up with Taylor?” Eddie asks, dark eyes boring into Buck. The rubber band stretches even further. “And I don’t want the lie you told Chimney.”

Buck sets down his beer, and crosses his arms. “Why did you break up with Ana?”

“It wasn’t what I wanted,” Eddie doesn’t hesitate. “She wasn’t who I wanted.”

Buck’s arms fall back to his sides. “Who-what do you want, then?” He tries to swallow the word “who” in the back of his throat, but it comes out anyway. His palms are sweating and his heart is racing and oh, God, what if he’s wrong about this?

Eddie just takes a step forward, expression unreadable. “Don’t you know, Evan?” His voice doesn’t shake, but it’s quiet, almost a whisper. Like he’s forcing the words out before he loses his ability to speak completely.

It’s not even really an answer, not entirely. There’s just enough plausible deniability that Eddie could walk it back. Maybe. If they weren’t six inches apart. If Eddie wasn’t looking at him like every hope and dream he’s ever had rely on what Buck does next. If the last time Eddie used Buck’s first name wasn’t in a hospital room. If Buck didn’t know Eddie so completely.

The rubber band snaps.

Buck practically lunges forward into Eddie’s space, wrapping his hands around Eddie’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. He kisses Eddie hard, pouring every ounce of pent up emotion from the last three and a half years into it, and Eddie kisses him back with equal intensity. Eddie’s hands on his waist, callused and warm, and Buck pushes Eddie up against the edge of the sink so their bodies are pressed together as firmly as their lips are. Buck’s fingers find their way from Eddie’s neck into his hair, and he tugs gently, earning a moan from the other man. Seizing the opportunity, Buck slides his tongue along Eddie’s lower lip, which falls open further to let Buck in. Time moves slow as honey around them, as they melt into each other. Nothing else in the world seems to matter except getting more and more of Eddie.

Buck’s giddy with the feeling. He’s kissing Eddie. Eddie is kissing him back. Eddie wants him. He has to pull back, unable to stop himself from letting out a small giggle.

“What?” Eddie asks, breathless. He sure is a sight, hair mussed and lips swollen. He looks wanton and a wave of smugness bubbles up in Buck’s chest because he did that.

“Nothing, I’m just happy,” Buck says softly, leaning down to rest his forehead against Eddie's. “I thought you might--but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

Eddie’s brown eyes soften with fondness. “Me too.”

Buck swallows. “Should we talk about this?”

“Probably," Eddie says, and then continues in that casual, matter of fact tone of his, "I’m in love with you."

“Oh, well, good,” Buck ducks his head and smiles bashfully. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Eddie sucks a breath through his teeth, moving back just so he can move in again at the right angle for a kiss. “Well, then. Are we done talking?”

Buck pretends to think about it for a moment. “Hm, yeah. I think we’re on the same page.”

He barely finishes his sentence before Eddie’s lips are on his again, and this time he’s the one pushed up against the counter, the cold tile digging into his back. He knows they have more to talk about--how to tell Christopher, how (and when) they want to tell the team, what this means for their working relationship--but that’s all secondary. They’ll figure it out, together. Because he’s Buck and Eddie is Eddie, and they’ve both been all in since the day they pulled a live grenade out of a man’s thigh together.

Right now, all he needs is for Eddie to never stop kissing him like this.

(Eddie never does.)

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man. ( Taehyung x Oc)

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst. 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2  ~ Its okay to want something to end and also be sad that its ending. 

With infidelity, its never black and white. 

There’s different kinds of infidelity and you can’t ever say which is worse. That depends entirely on the people involved and the values they hold dear. What may be a small indiscretion to someone, may well be an unforgivable act of betrayal to someone else.

 And that’s fine. People aren’t one dimensional. We can’t all have the same perspective. 

So infidelity is also never one dimensional. 

Sometimes its a one night stand. Something done and forgotten. Discarded from the mind like the used condom in the motel room floor. 

Sometimes its a dear friend who betrays you, your best friend who apparently always had a thing for your husband and felt perfectly fine making a move on him. That one stings . Because you lose two people. Two very important people at the same time. 

Sometimes its a coworker, someone who stays by their side majority of the day. Who offers a sympathetic ear when your husband wants to relax.

Sometimes men just fall out of love and are too much of a coward to say it out loud, opting to cheat on you instead. 

Sometimes, they are jealous, of your career, of your kid, or your friends. Too lazy to win your affection they go find satisfaction in some one else’s bed. 

Sometimes it never even gets physical. Sometimes its just someone catfishing your husband or sending him nudes.

And sometimes, its an emotional connection. They actually fall deeply in love with someone else and I think, for most women, that would be the one that would sting the most. 

With Taehyung, it had been a night of drinking. He had had one drink too many, had tumbled into bed with some trainee a decade younger and had broken our marriage vows. 

Not really a very thought out or planned mistake. He hadn’t cheated with the intent to cheat. He had just been too drunk to know better. 

So, why did I leave him?

Because it hadn’t been about the cheating. 

It had been the drinking. 

When we first met, Taehyung couldn’t hold his liquor. Not that it mattered because he didn’t like it all that much. Didn’t mind sipping juice when other’s nursed beers. 

But as he grew older, as he grew more successful, he had started accepting drinks from producers and directors and fellow actors... Because, it was rude not to and Kim Taehyung was nothing if not the personification of politeness. 

 His tolerance hadn’t increased but his drinking had and that was a bad combo. 

:”You need to stop doing this Tae. You can’t just come home black out drunk, every time you have an after party.... You’re going to hurt yourself or god forbid someone else... some day and I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to wreck your entire life over a stupid drink....” 

It was a speech I had made way too many times. The words recycled and reframed, and rearranged to try and give them more  weight , to help him realize how  serious  the issue was. To help him understand that what he was risking, it wasn’t just his reputation. It was his entire career, his  life  if he somehow got behind a wheel someday. 

And Taehyung, who had won a bunch of Daesangs for his acting always convinced me that he understood what I was trying to say. That he understood the magnitude of my words and would heed them the next time. 

So really, what people didn’t understand was that....

That evening, when he stood in front of me and said that he slept with another woman because he got drunk out of his mind, it wasn’t the sleeping with the girl that had bothered me. ( at least not that much. it hurt of course but it wasn’t that strong. it stemmed more from a place of “why didn’t you just ask someone to drive you home, you idiot.”.. rather than, “ how dare you sleep with another woman?”  ) 

It was the got drunk out of my mind thing. 

That was what I ended my marriage over. 

That was it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The details were hashed out easily and I didn’t particularly protest or change anything. Taehyung suggested an equal division of assets and I quickly disagreed. I wasn’t exactly poor. I worked as the Head of Marketing in a successful conglomerate. I had no use for excessive amounts of money. After some debate we agreed on setting up a trust fund for Hoshi with the money. He could use it after he turned twenty five. 

And then came the next part. 

Compensation for physical / Mental Damage. 

I felt like i was spiraling. 

“None On my side. None.” Taehyung said quickly and I swallowed. 

Ms Lee gave me an encouraging smile. 

“You can be honest Mrs Kim. We’re trying to go for a clean break between the two of you without any resentment carrying over. So its best to be honest. If you feel you need recompense for any emotional distress or abuse Mr. Kim may have put you through, you’re free to tell me. I’ll make sure it goes into record.” 

And this was why I hated the idea of getting divorce. 

That entire dialogue had sounded so...so... terrible. So accusatory and ugly. It wasn’t at all the way I felt about my husband. 

It was just hurt. Plain and simple hurt because he didn’t take me seriously. Because he didn’t think my words were worth listening to. It was hurt laced with fear because he was putting himself in danger with his reckless actions and I wanted him to stop. That’s all it was. 

It was hurt. 

Taehyung had hurt me but it wasn’t emotional distress. It sure as hell hadn’t been abuse.

“None for me either.” I said firmly, honest . 

I glanced at my husband, trying to tell him that I wasn’t just saying it. That it was true. I really didn’t want him to pay me money for what had happened. 

But, Taehyung wouldn’t meet my eyes.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung signed over full custody of Hoshi with a smile. 

“I trust you. “ He said quietly, penning his initials carefully on the document. 

I nodded, feeling a little like drowning.

 We had a very comfortable way of doing things as far as our son was concerned. Taehyung got Hoshi anytime he had time off and also on weekends. 

With a very shifting schedule it was hard for Taehyung to pin down exact dates so we had long decided we would make things easier for each other. He would call me a day or so in advance and i would drop him off at Taehyung’s penthouse or the company. Special days like birthdays were always celebrated in a neutral place with both parties attending. 

Hoshi loved it because it was a pleasant surprise for him, when his dad swooped in out of nowhere and took him off to amusement parks or arcades or swimming. He loved Taehyung . 

So the visitation rights were easy to sketch out. 

It was nothing new but to have it all put down on paper and initialed and notarized....it just felt invasive. Some judge somewhere would read all about how my marriage had crumbled to ashes and would pass judgment on me and that just felt odd. 

 Like airing your dirty laundry. Like letting strangers into your bedroom. 

And the worst part was this :   I felt myself getting upset , anytime Ms. Lee gave the slightest negative connotation to Taehyung’s actions or responsibilities. Anytime she tried to imply that he couldn’t be neglectful as  a father, I wanted to jump right up and defend him. To tell her that he was a better father than the ones who lived 24/7 with their kids and didn’t know a damn thing about them. 

That even as my husband,  he had been so good to me. Had treated me like his best friend, his confidante, his lover. Had never shied away from showing me how much he loved me. Had been the best husband in the whole entire world. 

And I hated myself for it. 

What was wrong with me? 

Why was  I still so fiercely protective of him, I wondered. I hated the idea of him being criticized by anyone for any of it.

 And it made feel like such a hypocrite because if he was so amazing, why on earth were we here??

Why on earth were we getting a divorce if Kim Taehyung was husband and father of the fucking Year?!! 

Was I making a mistake? Had I made a mistake? 

It confused me. These feelings that just refused to go away. I would never act on them because therein lay the path to misery but why were they still there? 

 This desperate clawing urge to make sure he came out of this whole debacle as a good guy. To make sure no one would brand him as a cheater . Because they would. When the divorce went public, they would dig things up and they would know. 

 I didn’t know how I’d gotten to this point where , I could somehow forget everything that was wrong, simply because I wanted to focus on what felt wrong....

Technically I should be happy. 

Taehyung did something unpardonable ( for me, at the time. Now I wasn’t so sure. Now I felt like I could forgive him for it but he hadn’t asked for forgiveness. What he’d asked for was a divorce.  ) and I left him. We were separated . And now finally we were getting a divorce. 

Divorce meant we could finally get out of this no man’s land of uncertainty where we had hung for two whole years and move on, from each other and finally give a label to where we stood. Exes. We were exes. We were done. It was over. 

Hadn’t I just yelled about him about how I liked labels? 

And yet, 

This entire divorce  felt so wrong. So unnecessary.

And in a moment of clarity, as I watched Ms Lee read he whole thing over again for our benefit, I realized why it felt wrong. 

It felt wrong because Taehyung was the one who wanted it. 

Why did Taehyung want it? What had made him want to end it, officially?

Was he seeing someone else? Was he considering seeing someone else? Did he want to start enjoying the single lifestyle again? 

Did he finally take a good long look at our marriage and found nothing worth salvaging anymore? 

My head ached. 

 I couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over. And yet my heart broke at the thought of it. 

Ms Lee finally gathered up all the documents and gave us a wide smile.

“I wish every client I had was this reasonable. You two are a delight .” she shook her head. “ Should we get a drink to celebrate a day well spent?” 

I opened my mouth to accept when Taehyung said, “  Sure, but it would have to be a juice for me. I don’t drink.” 

I felt my heart take a swoop, nosediving to my knees. 

I stared at him, stunned speechless. 

“Haven’t had a drink in two years Mia. I’m done with that shit.” He said softly.

I swallowed. 

“I didn’t know that.” I felt miserable all of a sudden, the weight of what we had just done pressing down on my heart like a 200 pound stone, 

His gaze held mine.

“There’s a lot you don’t know.” 

We stood staring at each other in silence and Ms. Lee cleared her throat. 

“Uh... I just got a text from my next client. Maybe raincheck on the drinks? “

I nodded , watching her leave. Thank you i wanted to say, but for what?

 For ending my marriage of eight fucking years? 

And how ridiculous that very thought was. ..... She hadn’t ended our marriage,   I had. 

“I have the next two days off.” He said casually. 

“You can pick Hoshi up from my mom’s place. I need to head back to the office.” I muttered, choking a little on tears that had sprung out of nowhere. . 

“Hey.” his fingers closed over my wrists tugging me gently and I let myself get pulled into his arms. I hugged him, feeling my tears soak through the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” I choked out. 

He stroked the back of my head gently.

“Me too. “ He pressed a kiss to my hair and it only made me feel worse.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Tae is 35, OC is 32 

[dumbdemonslayertexts]

random excerpts from black girl time travel kny au

Pairing: rengoku / oc

note: lots of angst mostly. forgive me for this not being y/n format i have to work up the chops to be graceful enough to write that

tagging @dudeandduchess and @adoriable and @tengens-bunny bc they sparked the greatest muse i’ve ever had to write fictions since i was like 14 literally wtf you are my queens???!?!

even with her mind working double overtime to secure her discomfort, the serenity if the rengoku estate could not be diminished. imene tried her hardest to remember any time prior to her time shift where she saw the moon so brilliantly illuminating the earth below it. each blade of grass, every stone in the garden reflected its glow; the whole of her surroundings were accented with such a pure silvery lining, giving a beauty distinctive to the night alone. it was tranquil enough for her to eventually draw a cleansing breath through her lungs, which finally released some of the staleness of doubt and second guessing that had filled her self image lately.

“you are awake still, imene-chan?”

that voice struck her in her chest, shooting sparks of heat and flutters in her stomach. and the fact that she was hearing it meant he was home. safe. and home.

“imene,” she softly insisted, making him smile as though he were being teased.

“imene.” his voice was warmer when he said her name, she would swear to it. and it stirred in her heart almost painfully with the need to hold him forever.

“i couldn’t sleep,” she shrugged off her dilemma, far more preoccupied in the happiness of seeing him, falling into those gorgeously untamed eyes and sweet smile again… “i’m happy to see you!”

“kyojuro.”

when the depth of his rich tone interjected his name, it caught her by surprise. and, true to form, he hadn’t needed her to say a word before reading her thoughts and emotions with complete accuracy.

“wh–?”

he lessened the distance between them, tucking his chin to sustain her eye contact where she sat, “imene… would you say it for me?”

the shadow of pessimism in her brain was shouting. he was easing the lines of formality as a kindness—-it was his vibrant character and nothing more. why was she so dense as to not even understand that? why did a simple name make her world feel brighter, and have her smiling to him, lovestruck?

“kyojuro.”

he smiled. with utter bliss, he smiled at her, exhaling like she’d lifted a weight from him. “ah… i prefer that, i think… don’t you?" 

just like that, the playfulness was back in his voice and eyes. though, another element felt as though it had been added unto it. one she was far too daunted to even hope to name. so she changed the subject. 

"how’re you feeling..?” she asked, lifting herself to stand, “you’re not hurt anywhere, are you? did you get any sleep or did you come right–”

she’d closed the remaining space between them as she fretted over him. ginger, worrying hands grazed butterfly touches up his chest, and the moment she’d made the mistake of tenderly cupping his face, his grin vanished… along with the delusion of pleasant standing she had dared hoped for with anyone there. it took so very little, but reality struck her like frozen lead. 

the subtlest way she could, imene lowered her touch away from him, even as she felt stony ice fill her stomach at his reaction. she could feel how he’d stiffened just before she took her hands away. so then, at that very second with how clear things had become, finality settled into her. still, she wished he would have just lunged his blade through her gut instead; the pain would have been so much less. 

“i–” kyojuro tried his best to play off the disgust, to turn the awkwardness in any other emotional direction. the poor thing even had the courtesy to look remorseful—-very convincingly, at that. god, how noble could one man be to still be kind and gentlemanly even now, trying to play off repulsion as he so obviously was? “no, i am not injured, i am feeling well! but i wished to return home as quickly as i could once i’d fulfilled my assignment. so, yes, i made the decision to return directly. i hope you haven’t been up out of worry for me.”

he was even back to beaming a smile by then, close-eyed and cheerful. she could only give half the heart in her attempt to smile back, barely nodding to acknowledge his answer. the bolt of dejection was still scalding in her chest, trying its best to well tears into her eyes.

“what is it?”

he asked after she’d broken eye contact with him for a time. imene had needed the privacy to blink down the urge to cry. 

“i’m …ready to go back to oyakata-sama’s estate. but i was kind of worried of how much trouble it would be to ask if he would take me in a second time… i didn’t know if it would be rude to him,” she tried to sound as casual as she possibly could, asking softly, like it were nothing more than a passing thought over an inevitable eventuality instead of a conscious decision of hers. but from the look on kyojuro’s face, she may as well has torn a hole through him.

“has something happened?”

he was so concerned. kyojuro sounded so hurt and concerned that the prickling of tears threatened her lashes again. even with his aversion to her, she could not stand to see someone so sweet and kind be hurt. “no…”

“please, imene, if you were upset by anything that happened while i was away–”

“i wasn’t, kyojuro,” she insisted, pleading.

“are you unhappy?” he asked. and it broke her heart to hear just how willing he was to remedy whatever issue she may have experienced just by the tone of his voice, especially after just returning from a mission, “you don’t have to hesitate to tell me if I have failed to host you well.”

“you haven’t failed anything. i’m not unhappy. but I can–” dread made the words catch in her throat, but it was too late for her to retract anything now, “feel that I’m making everyone uncomfortable." 

she waited for him to say something, but the flame hashira only looked at her in pained confusion, stunned and churning his brain to unravel her meaning.

"your father does not want me in your home, kyojuro. i’m a stranger to him—-in fact, I’m pretty sure he can sense that i don’t belong here,” she explained. he was faintly shaking his head, but even with the urge to protest, kyojuro could not deny that truth. “and senjuro–”

“he adores you,” kyojuro desperately interjected. her lips parted to negate it, but he continued before she could. and suddenly, there was a visible glimmering in his sunborn eyes, “he’s told me. many times, everyday we spend together. you…” his face softened from the accosted state she’d frozen it into earlier, and he paused his hurried explanations, “ease him. from our father. even though it is nowhere in your responsibility, you comfort him.”

“him liking me is just going to strain things between the two of them even more,” she shook her head, trying physically to mash the stress out of her temples, “that can’t be worth it, i don’t know how long I’ll even be in this time!”

“you would be surprised at its worth, imene." 

her conscience screamed at her to look at him, and she refused for as long as she could… just for knowing how gutting it would be to do. decency prevailed over her to finally grant him enough to at least meet his eyes, though. and the way his soul cried out to her through them left her destroyed. 

"i’m so sorry to have made you uncomfortable in my home. you needn’t worry about speaking with oyakata-sama, that is my responsibility, i will take care of it.”

he was resigned and sullen. It was almost impossible to tell with how genuinely he retained a positive outlook despite anything, but imene could see the sadness shining in his fiery stare, even with how radiant his grin was. she could also note how the sure grip of his sword had lessened to self-soothing strokes with his thumb at its hilt. “In the morning, I’ll make the arrangements for you. …I hope you believe me, imene, about senjuro. It’s been some time since he’s had …a loving woman around him. he isn’t likely to remember our mother well. what you’ve given with your presence is precious to him. priceless, I would say.”

he gave her an elegiac curve of his lips, and the water blurring her sight conquered her at last, dripping tears so heavy they fell straight to the ground, without a trace left on her cheeks.

“as for our father… he has been this way for a while. it is him. or, it’s what he has become, not a result of your being here. his callousness falls onto senjuro and myself normally, but I suppose you provided a new outlet for it …” he sighed, “it doesn’t excuse my negligence, but i will speak to him, you have my word.”

when she swept her eyes free of more accumulating tears, she felt kyojuro’s palms encircling her arms. it was a touch she had been desiring from the moment these feelings for him had begun to surface, yet when she felt it, she recoiled as if she were burned.

“imene,” he begged quietly. she still tried to keep her tone even.

“but you, kyojuro.”

confusion seeped into the misery soaking his expression, and his brow curled again to search for some hidden meaning in her words. his hands were away from her, though, the instant she showed discomfort.

“you’re the most uncomfortable around me of the three of you. you’re disgusted when i come close to touching you, you can’t even stand to be near me, in the same room, you’re always double checking to see if i’m up to something down every hall and in every room, and around your brother—-i can’t stay here and make you feel like that in your own home! especially when you’re out saving people and risking your life constantly! why would you even want me here if i make you so ill at ease—why would you want to come home to that kind of feeling after all you do!”

she hated how much heat she could feel under her skin–behind her eyes, in her cheeks and nose, at her ears. even more, she hated the pinched and congested whine her emotive state rendered her voice to, like some indignant child. it was humiliating to say aloud to him—-to verbalize just how awfully her self-regard had been eaten away, and to at last face it herself. now her cheeks and chin lay adorned with sheening wet streaks. she couldn’t hide any of it any longer. stillness followed after. not a word spoken, only the amplification of her breaths rattling and struggling to calm against rengoku’s measured silence. 

when she could bear to raise her head again, imene could see him in what looked to be a deep epiphany. a terrible one. like his actions had only know processed into awareness for him, and had left him reflecting in horror. 

“imene.”

he lifted his eyes enough for her to come into view, and his own lashes were starry now, blacker with the moisture accumulating at their base, in spite of the soft grin he wore, “i’m afraid i have to correct you. you said i haven’t failed in caring for you well. but i have done exactly that.

"would you come and sit with me,” he propositioned when she said no more. he’d expected nothing less when she could only look away from him with clenched, leaking eyes, so clearly pained that it ripped his heart to shreds. kyojuro was patient to await her answer, and held out his arm for her when she surprisingly accepted. imene had assumed that they would both share the space on the engawa she’d taken before his return. instead, he lead them to a more secluded area of the estate’s garden, on a stone bench that provided ample view of the night time, and allowed an unstifled breeze to cool them both that she greatly appreciated. 

“i must apologize.”

“you did already.”

kyojuro glanced over his shoulder, hearing her delicate assurance. it surged through him, littering his skin in goosebumps. 

out of consideration of how small their shared seat would be, he had crowded himself at the corner by her side. it allowed them both room for their legs, considering how widely his sat apart, but he could admit there there was a high element of shame that made it more difficult to face her. “yes, and it is not at all adequate for how i’ve hurt you.”

every time he spoke, sounding like he cared, she could do nothing but weep more. somehow, in spite of everything, his sympathy hurt more than anything else. and made her feel horrible for not being acceptable. “you can’t help how you feel, rengoku-s–”

“kyojuro." 

his eyes met hers with stone solid conviction that she couldn’t understand. for someone who disliked her so palpably, he was intent on establishing friendly casualness between them that gave her a migraine trying to comprehend. his next words went far enough to bring a knot to her brow. "you’re right, i can’t. but to have acted on those feelings so poorly is shameful." 

"acted on them poorly?”

“you were manifested in oyakata-sama’s estate. a refugee he deemed to have been brought here for divine reason. he is our leader in this fight we have undertaken against evil. he is the head of our organization, to be honored and respected.”

“it seemed that way,” her faint voice commented.

“yes. for that reason, and more i can’t explain now. understand, if my master says to me that you are precious, to be cared for, i wouldn’t ever dishonor that, nor you.”

now he’d given her her own shocking epiphany. it was slow to unravel itself with how meticulously he explained, frustratingly peeling away with the more he revealed to her in this less than receptive state that her mortification left her in.

“i wished to fulfill the role of your caretaker as best as i could. but as a hashira, i am frequently called away for extensive periods,” he gradually began to turn himself round, now diagonally beside her rather than perpendicular, “you are out of my direct sight for so long that i force you to tolerate my overcompensating once i return. i want you adjusted well, to not be overwhelmed or confused, or grieved with being alone. i wished to watch over you closely in case you were to need me.”

“oh…”

“and your nearness…” he began again, “imene, you were brought here under my protection. not only for me to oversee your healing wounds, but for your safe keeping all together. you are my charge. but i took this upon myself before knowing you—-i was not prepared for you to be so gentle and loving, and to possess warmth that i have not felt in so many years. you emanate affection–your spirit could even bring out playfulness in tokito-san. and your strength is one i have only seen in one other in my life." 

she wanted to cry again, now. and was well on her way, hearing this perfect man speak of her so glowingly. out of nowhere. 

"your peculiar beauty was something i was prepared to disregard. i am from a family of uncommon features; i willed myself to overlook the uniqueness of your eyes as many do mine, and to not be stricken with the comeliness of your hair, or with the beauty of your delicate complexion—-one i have never seen, and that i now will never forget. i convinced myself of it only being the allure of one sent from the heavens. i was mistaken, and then overcome." 

"you—-” her voice broke, weighted with the sobs fighting to bubble out of her chest, “i don’t understand…”

“you are the most beautiful woman i have ever set eyes on, imene. my dreams could not even create anyone nearly as bewitching. and i swore to ignore it, until you showed yourself equally as beautiful in your soul.”

▷▷ part 2

[castiel-kline]

Rescue

(also on ao3)

Jack’s got a lot of new responsibilities to take care of, but first he has someone to save from the clutches of the Empty.

for @dadstielweek day 6: missing scene

-

The Empty felt much less daunting than the last time Jack had been here. It was still unsettling, of course, but he was prepared to face it now. He knew what he’d come for was well worth it.

The Shadow slithered up in front of him, coming together in a familiar shape. His mother’s face smiled at him, eyes dark in a way Kelly’s could never be. And he felt a pang, because he missed her like always. He hadn’t been to see her, not yet. But that was next on his list.

“Hey there, kiddo. Nice upgrade. You’re even more sparkly and insufferable than usual,” it began, tilting its head. “Don’t know why you think you have any right to be here, though, after what you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, trying to ignore the screams he could hear in the distance, muffled as if the throats they sprang from were stuffed with cotton. “I didn’t mean to wake everyone up. I can fix it, I promise.”

“But you want something in return, don’t you.” The Shadow’s tone was flat, a brow arched in disdain.

“We can make a deal. I know you like those.”

“Yeah, when there’s something in it that suits me. You don’t have anything that I want.”

“I can make sure that you go back to sleep for good,” Jack assured, stepping closer. “You’ll get your quiet, forever. The Empty’s been in disorder for too long.”

“Uh huh. Might want to check your motivation there, young Atlas. Dishonesty bites.”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He clenched a fist, taking in a deep breath. “I’m not lying.”

“Aren’t you?” The Shadow ran a hand across his shoulders and down his arm, nails biting at the skin of his hand where it grabbed him. “You don’t care about my order, or my sleep. You just want your dead papa bear to hold you and tell you it’s okay.”

He gulped. “Just give me Castiel, and I’ll help you put everyone back to sleep. I know you can’t do it yourself, or you would have already.”

The Shadow yanked its hand away, glare sharper than any knife. “Get out, kid. I won’t ask again.”

“No.” Jack squared his shoulders. “I’m not leaving until I have my father back.”

“Newsflash, sport- God doesn’t have power in my domain. Everything Chuck managed was because I let him. Now that you’ve been grandfathered in -ha!- you’re stuck. Can’t hurt me.”

“Actually, I can. I’ve always had power here, since the day I was born. Since just a few weeks after that, when I woke you up. But I don’t want us to be enemies. I’d prefer it if we could come to an agreement.”

They would be enemies if it had really hurt Cas, but they could at least try to be allies first. He pinched at his palm, watching the Shadow think it over. It came closer, face softening in a syrupy false sympathy. It placed a hand on Jack’s cheek just like his mother had when he’d met her, and he tried not to recoil too violently.

“Oh, you poor, dumb, child,” it said. In a blink the hand on his cheek had moved, cupping his chin and squeezing his face with enough force to snap his jaw if either of them moved the wrong way. “Poor, sweet little fool. Castiel’s mine, and you’re not taking him from me. I won him fair and square.”

Jack managed to pull its hand away from him, heaving in a breath before he spoke. “Cas doesn’t belong to you,” he said.

The Shadow laughed. “And I suppose that’s because he belongs to you instead?”

“No.” Jack shook his head. “No. He doesn’t belong to me. He doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“Hmm. That so? Do you think Dean Winchester would agree with you on that?” It winked at him, smirk warping his mother’s mouth.

“Cas doesn’t belong to Dean,” Jack asserted, refusing to have his focus broken. “He belongs to himself. And you’re going to bring him back, because he deserves to live his life. He deserves to make his own choices.”

The Shadow moved forward and bopped his nose, punctuating each word. “Selfish, selfish, selfish!”

Jack jerked his head away. “This isn’t selfish. I just-”

“You need him. And that makes this valiant little rescue mission of yours as self serving as a buffet.”

“All I need is to know that he’s alive, and that he’s safe,” Jack said, surprising himself with the truth of it. “And… if he doesn’t want to stay with me, I’ll let him go. Because… because that’s what you do when you love someone.”

For a moment he thought he’d gotten through to it, but then the Shadow turned away again, a finger tapping at its chin.

“Oh, but see- if I give you a freebie now, you’ll expect more later. And resurrections fray the threads of fate, you know. Very dangerous game. Or have you forgotten that what’s dead should stay dead?”

“I know. I know, and that’s how everything after this will be. Just, please… please bring him back.” His first day on the job and he was begging, betraying his desperation. Wonderful.

“What are you gonna do with all the other angels? The demons?” The Shadow was back to staring at him, but its tone was much less harsh. Tired. Maybe it was finally going to give in.

“I don’t know,” Jack admitted. “We might need some angels to restore Heaven since it’s failing, but… you can have a say in that. Before I put you back to sleep.”

“So, I get my sleep and you get Castiel?” Jack nodded, feeling like he had no more life than a popped balloon. The Shadow gave a long, exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But you’d best not wake me unless the universe is ending again, capische?”

“Thank you.” Jack didn’t feel like that was enough. That it could ever be enough. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever. Happy family time.” The Shadow snapped its fingers before sliding away, and the ground began bubbling a short distance from Jack. Castiel emerged from the depths of the Empty, dragged out by inky tendrils. He looked awful, and Jack would have been angrier if not for his agreement with the entity being one breath from crumbling.

Cas hacked up lungfuls of goo until he could breathe again, collapsing onto the ground when his vessel’s shaking arms couldn’t hold him any longer. Jack could see the entirety of Castiel’s true form for the first time- the broken wings and the hundreds of eyes, old as time. The animal heads and the quaking limbs, folded into a kind and wizened package. It was tragic, and it was beautiful. His vessel’s face was covered in tears, and Jack was struck by the fact that this was the first time he’d ever seen Cas cry.

He knelt down, swallowing hard, and placed a hand on Cas’ shoulder. He blinked the tears back from his own eyes.

“Hi, Cas,” he said, voice so soft he didn’t know if it had been heard.

“Jack.” Cas looked at him not with relief, but with panic. “What are you doing here? You have to leave. It’s not safe, the Empty-”

“It’s okay, Cas. I’m okay. And the entity- it’s not going to bother you anymore.”

Cas sat up, on Jack’s level now. He frowned, not understanding.

“You’re not dead again, are you?”

Jack smiled, a small ghost of a laugh escaping his lips. “No, I’m not. I have a lot to tell you, though.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he bit his lip to keep the tears in. Cas’ eyes searched his, a hand on Jack’s arm to hold them both steady. The moment realization hit, Castiel breathed out a soft “oh,” his eyes blowing wide.

“Jack, you’re… you’re the Lord.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m not anything special, and I’m not… I’m still just me.”

And Cas smiled, his eyes sad and yet the happiest Jack had seen since he’d made that godforsaken deal. Jack lost the battle with his emotions, feeling his face collapse into a mix of relief and sadness and fear and joy. Cas took him into his arms, both of them trembling but finding solace in the contact.

“You were always special, Jack,” Cas whispered. “And I am so, so proud of you.”

Jack shuddered, burying his face deeper into Castiel’s shoulder for just a moment before pulling back and looking him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to bring you back before, but I didn’t know how-”

“No, I’m sorry.” Cas gripped Jack’s shoulders, squeezing them before dropping his hands. As if to make sure Jack understood that he meant it. “I left at a very bad time, and I should have been there, to- to help with the fight-”

It was Jack’s turn to cut off the stream of apologies. “That’s not… I just really missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you too.” Cas smiled, just a corner of his mouth ticking up. It was strange to see it on so many other mouths as well, but in a way the sight of his true form smiling too just made Jack feel all the warmer.

“I, um. I think I can fix these. Your wings.” Jack leaned forward, fingers brushing at the air where the wings hung mangled and twisted in another dimension, shimmering far outside of corporeal view. He pulled his arm back once he realized that Cas had stiffened. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up at all-

“Thank you.” The whisper caught Jack by surprise, but he nodded and sent out a gentle wave of grace to put Castiel’s wings back to the way they should be.

Cas stretched them, lines of tension that Jack had never noticed melting away.

“Thank you, Jack,” he said. He sounded almost reverent, and Jack… Jack didn’t want to be revered.

He stood, extending a hand to help Cas up with him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, trying for a smile. It faded with his next words as he glanced away, eyes toward what passed for downward in the Empty. “I’ve caused you enough pain. I’m glad I could finally take some of it away.”

“You didn’t bring me pain, Jack. You-” Cas shook his head. “You just brought me joy. And my death wasn’t your fault, either. I don’t want you carrying that burden.”

Jack bit his lip and nodded, wondering if he’d ever be able to believe that. He thought maybe, given enough time, he could get there. Eternity should be plenty of time to work on his self esteem, after all.

“Are you ready to go back to earth?” Jack clasped his hands in front of him, studying Cas carefully for his reaction.

He looked like he was on the verge of saying yes, but then he frowned, eyes narrowed as he looked at Jack. Something flickered over his face.

“You’re not coming.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. I can’t.” Jack shrugged. “I have too much to do. In all of those other universes, there’s so much damage that Chuck caused and I can fix. And before that, I want to see my mother. Maybe I can make Heaven better too, since it’s not really very.... heavenly.”

“No, it’s… it’s far from perfect.”

Jack sighed. “Yeah. And… I think this is where I’m supposed to be. I’ll miss Sam and Dean, but I shouldn’t be there to write their story like Chuck did. They deserve better than that.”

Cas nodded, taking it in. “Okay. I’ll stay with you.”

“What?” Jack felt his eyes go wide. He hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to Cas so soon after getting him back, of course, but he hadn’t dared do more than breathe a fleeting hope.

“I’ll stay with you. You said you wanted to fix Heaven. Don’t you think that’s my job, too?”

“No, no. I don’t want you to stay out of obligation. I want you to go and… and be happy,” Jack said, wringing his hands. Now that Cas could actually be happy, he should go and do it. Nothing else would make sense.

Cas sighed. Not a heavy sigh, but one of release. He looked up and around, breathing deeply, as if the words he was searching for lay in the nothing that surrounded them.

“I am happy,” he said at last. “I’m happy with you. Changing the afterlife -the world- for the better, side by side? It would be my privilege.”

Fresh tears sprang to Jack’s eyes, and he tried his best to keep them back. 

“Are you sure? Sam, Dean-”

“I think-” Cas said, gently “-that there’s much I need to figure out regarding that. But I’ve… I’ve finally accepted myself, in spite of… well. A lot of things. And some time away to feel like myself before I face it sounds like it won’t be so bad at all. Besides- our family wouldn’t feel right without you there. We’d be missing a very important piece.”

Jack nodded. He knew Cas was being vague, probably because he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever it was that had happened in that dungeon. But Cas was looking out for himself, for once, and Jack was grateful. They could process everything together. They finally had the time.

“You’re really going to stay?”

Cas patted his shoulder. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Jack pitched forward into another hug, this one far less desperate than the last. This one was a promise- of safety, of teamwork, of trust. Of family.

After a while they pulled apart, standing together against the great expanse of nothing. They’d have to make a plan for finalizing the deal with the Empty, for renovating Heaven… they had a lot of work to do.

Cas tilted his head and looked into Jack’s eyes, catching on to the fact that Jack was deep in thought. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Jack smiled. No, he wasn’t alright. But he would be, and that was all that mattered. He had his father, and he had his mother to visit and universes to save. He was going to be good.

“I am now, Cas. I am now.”

[lafourmii20]

That prompt list is so hard to choose from! Lots of good stuff on there!

Couldn’t go past #54 though for ironfroststrange! (Please and thank you 😊)

Thank you for the ask @knightryder24 🥰 I had a lot of fun writing for this prompt. It's probably not what you had in mind, but I hope you like it!

Sorry it took me so much time to answer. I hope that the fact it is 2k long (which is way more than my other answers to the intimacy prompts) will make up for it.

~~~

frostironstrange, tony stark, stephen strange, loki, morgan stark, fluff and awkwardness, chaste kissing, getting together

~~~

Date night was awkward. Well, what was he expecting, really? He invited Loki and Stephen to have dinner with him. The God of Mischief and the Sorcerer Supreme, together, in the same room with mere mortal Tony? Yeah, it was a sure recipe for trouble.

“More dessert?” he asked with not a small amount of unease.

“Oh, I would love to take your dessert, darling,” Loki purred suggestively, with glinting eyes and smirking lips, and there was no way he was talking about the chocolate cake offered to him.

Tony gulped.

“Thank you, Tony,” Stephen replied softly, taking a piece for himself and another for Loki, thankfully cutting through Loki’s aggressive flirting.

Tony lost himself for a second in Stephen’s mesmerizing blue-green eyes, took a little strength from the wizard’s calm demeanor, then shook his head. No, this was still a terrible idea. What was he thinking inviting them in his house?

Well, truth be told, it wasn’t his idea. Stephen suggested it, and Loki approved. So really, if anyone was to blame for the poor night they were all having, it wasn’t Tony.

But maybe it wasn’t such a bad evening. Sure, there were awkward silences, uneasy glances and shy blushes. But there were also good wine and great Asgardian ale. They talked about magic and science and technology, Asgardian customs that should be abandoned forever, and others that would do great to Earth societies. They discussed life, love, family and relationships.

They talked about their relationship.

Their weird relationship wasn’t exactly a new thing. They’d been dancing around each other for months now. Since Thanos, they had been getting closer and closer together. Tony just had to meet the Sorcerer who orchestrated everything and helped them to win. After screaming at him with all the strength of his lungs for not telling him what the plan was, Tony understood and tried to get to know the man better. They got along far better than he ever dared to imagine.

Tony met Loki in totally different circumstances. With a whole ass alien nation now settling on Earth, Tony got involved in the smooth integration of New Asgard. That was where he got to know Loki, and the mischievous God carved a place into his heart scarily quickly, if he were honest.

What he discovered with these two men was beautiful, just as broken as Tony was, but glorious (as Loki would love to say). It was a deep friendship that slowly evolved into something else, into something more.

Tony would never forget the day he held Stephen’s hand for the first time, carefully cradling his trembling fingers between his own. The trust in Stephen’s eyes took his breath away.

The strong hug he shared with Loki one afternoon, was also etched into his memory, a fond time and a show of vulnerability like no other. It was truly glorious.

Tony also knew Loki and Stephen exchanged a chaste kiss at the Sanctum, even though he didn’t know the details. He just found it infinitely endearing. But it brought some difficult questions to his mind.

“Why would I have to choose only one of you, when I adore you both?” Loki had asked incredulously one day, when Tony broached the subject of their weird three-way relationship. Then, the Asgardian seemed to remember. “Oh, I see. Your Midgardian’s customs limit your view on the matter. In Asgard, a relationship is only what the people involved want it to be. Be it between a man and a woman, or two men, or two women, or more than two people and all the combination you could ever imagine.”

“So what do you want?” Tony had asked.

Loki only answered with a broad devilish smile.

Stephen suggested the dinner date the next day, and Loki approved immediately. And there they were. In this awkward situation, navigating the troubled water of a brand new relationship. Tony was about to embark on a relationship with not only one, but two magical men, and his head was spinning. In anticipation. In fear. Elation. Love too.

Double the love, who would have thought, uh?

“How about we move this to a more comfortable location?” Loki asked, bringing Tony back to the present. “The couch, maybe?” He arched his eyebrows suggestively again, and Tony lost his words (again) turning bright red. The God of Mischief was really good at making Tony blush these days. Damn. Tony was losing all his smooth flirting when he was with them.

“Sure,” he said. Jeez, that was so lame. He definitely was losing his cool with them. “You go there,” he gestured toward the living room, “I’ll make coffee and tea for Stephen. Our good doctor can’t end an evening without his chamomile tea, the fiend. I’ll take care of it.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, but simply smiled at Tony’s antics, and he left the table with Loki, guiding him through the house with a gentle hand on the small of his back.

The gesture was overwhelmingly delicate and tender, and fondness surged through Tony’s heart.

Too much, it was too much.

Finally alone after all the awkwardness and tension, Tony breathed out, paused for one second, before getting in motion again. He couldn’t stay still and let his brain do his overthinking thing. Except, he couldn’t stop thinking as he made the drinks on autopilot, too focused on his own thoughts (and the two Sorcerers casually sitting on his couch) to care about what his hands were doing.

What the hell was he doing? After all the hardship in his life, he couldn’t settle for a simple retirement plan in his cabin by the lake, with Morgan, and Pepper? Well, Pepper wasn’t exactly here anymore. They couldn’t make it work together and that was sad, but it was life, right? Life sucked. But they had found a balance, between her new job in New York and his simple life by the lake, and their amazing daughter to raise. It wasn’t ideal, but it seemed to work for them.

And now, Tony wanted to complicate all this delicate balance with this new and weird relationship?

What was he thinking?

“Hey.” Stephen’s gentle voice interrupted Tony’s spiraling thoughts, and a shaking hand landed on his shoulder.

Tony turned to face the other man. The hand, still on his shoulder, calmed him a little, silenced his thoughts.

“Hi,” Tony whispered.

Stephen’s lips curled into a tender smile that warmed Tony’s heart. Red tinted his sharp cheekbones, from the wine and the Asgardian ale they shared earlier. His eyes glinted, maybe because he kissed Loki again on the couch while waiting for Tony. Oh, how he would love to join them and shut the voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” Stephen asked in his deep voice. “Is it too much, for you? We can leave if you want to. We would understand.”

“No!” Tony immediately blurted out. His hand came up to hold on to Stephen’s wrist. He was careful not to grip the fine bones too tight, and to avoid the delicate scarred fingers, but he couldn’t let go, couldn’t let Stephen (and Loki) leave him. He wanted them here, with him. Forever.

“Stay, please,” he finally said. “It’s just… It’s a lot. But I want you here.”

Tony’s heart fluttered at Stephen’s answering smile, the softest and loveliest curl of his lips. And his eyes shone so bright with affection. Maybe love?

Tony gripped Stephen’s wrist in his hand, drew him closer while getting on his tiptoes. There, he left a gentle kiss on Stephen’s cheek. A surprised yet pleased sound escaped Stephen’s lips and Tony couldn’t wait to hear all the beautiful noises he could get from this man. Loki would probably be impossible to shake, but maybe he might help Tony to fluster Stephen? That would be lovely. Tony couldn’t wait to have both men with him, in his bed, and suddenly he wasn’t so afraid of this whole situation anymore.

“Let’s go find Loki, before he burns my house to the ground,” he said.

“Absolutely,” Stephen laughed before putting his arm around Tony’s waist, and making his way to the living room.

Which was empty when they arrived.

“Lokes?”

Tony’s heart dropped. Did Loki leave? Did he already get tired of them and just left?

But then, Tony heard a high-pitched giggle and a low voice from the bedrooms. He frowned, then hurried upstairs, Stephen on his heels. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Loki. But he wasn’t sure how the God of Mischief would handle his daughter, and Tony wasn’t ready to take any risks with his sweet little Morgan.

But when he peeked through her bedroom door, Tony’s heart melted. Morgan was in her bed, carefully tucked under the covers. Loki sat on the floor beside her bed, a book on his lap, his soft voice lulling her to sleep with a story. Except, every few sentences, he stopped, made a comment about the improbability of the tale, or how his own adventures were far more interesting, and Morgan giggled with him. It seemed like she was getting less and less sleepy, completely defeating the purpose of the bedtime story in the first place.

Tony melted.

“What are you doing up, little miss? It’s past your bedtime, you should be sleeping.”

“Loki is reading me a story.”

He could see that. The great God of Mischief felt utterly out of place on the floor of the little room painted in all sorts of bubblegum-pink shades Morgan loved so much.

“The little munchkin wanted a bedtime story. I thought it would amuse her greatly to hear the story of how I defeated the great enemies of Asgard, but she wanted me to read this book instead.” He showed them the title and Tony repressed a giggle of his own—it was just too hilarious to imagine Loki reading a children’s book.

“This little red riding hood story is particularly gruesome. I love it,” Loki commented with a wide and devilish smile.

“It’s great,” Morgan commented from the bed. “But he’s not doing the voices.”

Loki pouted and this time, Tony truly laughed.

“Come on, darling,” Stephen said joining Loki on the floor. “You have to do the voices. I’ll be the wolf, you’ll be the grandma.”

Loki looked disgusted.

“Tony can be the grandma.”

“Sure, I’ll be the grandma. I have a mug that says ‘Best Grandma in the world’ in the kitchen’s cabinet, anyway.”

“Come here, Grandma,” Stephen gestured to him laughing.

Tony joined them on the floor. They were truly ridiculous, three grown men sitting on a pink carpet, with a children’s book between them. But Morgan was smiling with all her missing tooth and Tony was feeling all fuzzy inside. Like he was at the right place.

Finally.

Maybe the three of them together wasn’t such a bad idea.

Reading a fairytale with three opinionated men was a disaster. They were all reading atop of each other, commenting on the other voices — ‘The grandma isn’t that weak, Tony.’ ‘Yes she is, that’s why she gets eaten.’ ‘Spoiler alert!’ ‘Oh come on doc, you don’t have to make your voice so deep.’ ‘Show off.’ ‘Lokes, you’re cheating.’ ‘I’m not.’ ‘Using magic is cheating.’ ‘It sets the atmosphere.’ ‘Show off.’ ’Shut up, wizard.’

And yet, Morgan was smiling, Tony too, and when his daughter eventually fell asleep—by some miracle even his genius brain couldn’t explain—he was smiling even wider.

Maybe—definitely—this relationship wasn’t such a bad idea. So instead of ushering Loki and Stephen and their awkwardness from the beginning out the door, Tony led them to his bedroom. And what they did behind the closed door was only the beginning of their relationship.

~~~

Inspired by this intimacy prompt list (my ask box is still open for prompts (or anything else), just know that it might take me some time to answer prompts because I have other projects I need to focus on right now)

Prompts filled: 3. touching foreheads (ironstrangefrost) 7. kissing scars (ironstrange) 23. wearing someone’s clothing (ironstrange) 29. kissing while mad (ironstrange) 30. being protective (drpepperony) 47. cuddling under blankets (ironstrangefrost) 54. reading a book together (ironstrangefrost) 59. height difference (ironstrange)

Currently working on:

[chipper9906]

Maybe

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 01 EPISODE 05: ‘JOURNEY INTO MYSTERY’ AND SEASON 01 EPISODE 04: ‘THE NEXUS EVENT’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 4,124 

Status: One Shot - Complete

Chapter Preview:

He had meant for it to come out more as a question, an offering. A possibility for the both of them. But what it really sounded like was a… well; a sincere, hope-filled attempt to keep hold of… this. Whatever this was, he knew he wanted it. However things went, he knew-

He wanted Sylvie in his life.

His heart was racing in his chest, pounding almost as hard as it does in the midst of battle. In the unlikely event he’s a free man after all of this over, he’ll have to go and find his brother - if he’ll even talk to him, that is - and apologize for the harsh insult he used; for berating his older brother over his affection for that Earth woman.

He understood now.

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Author Note: 

Oh Boy, here I go again, getting sucked into yet another ship. Basically, this is a dive into Loki's thoughts during the blanket scene in Episode 5 "Journey Into Mystery" because man, I sure do love getting into a character's head and breaking down their thought process.

P.S. No joke, I think I re-watched the blanket scene like... over 40 times I counted, roughly. Wanted to make sure I got every detail right lmao.

Oh wow, would you look at that - yet ANOTHER fic based on the blanket scene? I'm sure this hasn't been done by many different people ever since Episode 5 aired! Nah, I'm sure this is purely original stuff.

(Listen, this scene and - consequently - this fic got stuck in my head and I just had to write it down and... well here we are.

* * *

This was, as he had said, new for him.

It was… strange, to say the least. Not just because the woman who was sat next to him was, technically, on some sort of level, himself. And yet… not. Sylvie was her own person, that was for sure. And the only Loki, from who he’s met, who refuses to be called Loki. She had chosen her own name, and was currently choosing – or carving, was more accurate – her own path. A way out of the never-ending, self-sabotaging, “only use is for improving others” apparent destiny they’ve all found themselves in.

She had lived an entirely different life from him - and the use of the word ‘different’ here is strongly applied. It makes him a little uneasy when he dwells on it for too long if he’s being honest with himself. Yes, there may some similarities between them, as to be expected, but Sylvie had lived her own set of experiences different to his. Differences that had shaped her, made her see the world… universe… timeline? All of that, in a different way to him. Learning of the things she had gone through, what she’s trying to accomplish… it made his “glorious purpose” of ruling over “Mid-guard” seem like a spoiled boy's desperate attempt to feel important.

Everything with Sylvie and the TVA had shut down that ideal very quickly. Or, at least, has changed his view of his “Glorious Purpose”. The one change that he hadn’t seen coming, that Sylvie herself had told him; the very first words she had actually said to him:

“This isn’t about you.”

No, it wasn’t about him. Not just him, anyway. It was… it was all of him. Every version of himself out there, and every other variant of... Of everyone to have ever existed. Those, just like him, who are punished for stepping out of their pre-written timeline. Those that, when they try to change themselves, to be the person who those that loved him did everything in their power to guide them to be, were snatched away by the TVA and sent here to this pit of unwanted, broken things; left with nothing but unforgiving and dirty survival, only to lead to their inevitable death. 

And it’s cold.

“Mobius isn’t so bad.”

Sylvie breaks the comfortable lull of silence they had found themselves in. They were, technically, supposed to be ironing out the details of this plan to enchant a creature much, much larger than them, whose only desire is to eat everything that enters the world they’re currently in. Which is why, perhaps, they had taken the moment to just… breathe. A moment of rest, side by side. Whilst it was true that his plan of killing the gargantuan cloud thing was near suicidal, it would be fair to say that Sylvie’s plan was equally as dangerous. Then again, what did he expect? Seemed that every type of Loki out there isn’t the best at creating plans…

“Or so good,” Loki counters. It seemed almost cruel to say, but… it was also true, wasn’t it? Sure, Mobius had done the things he’d done because he thought they were the right things to do – but that didn’t take away from the fact that he’d done them. How many variants, not only of him, but of so many other poor souls had been doomed to this place because of his work? Still, it wasn’t like Mobius had the full picture with everything. Mobius had been lied to just as much as he had. “I think that’s why we get along.”

A small smile pulls at Sylvie’s lips. She takes a deep breath in, staring out to the horizon where Alioth awaits prowling his territory. “He cares about you.”

That catches him off guard. He supposed that she and Mobius must have had some type of conversation in however long they’d spent driving to reach them. Apparently, the topic of conversation must have steered towards him at some point. And somehow, through that, Sylvie had deduced that Mobius… cared about him?

There’s a soft, knowing smile on Sylvie’s face as she catches sight of his reaction. It was probably the closest similarity they shared: friendships… didn’t quite seem to happen for them. 

But there’s something else there in Sylvie’s expression as she looks to him. Almost a twinge of… of sadness. It sends an aching sort of pain through his chest as he sees it, coming to a sudden realization in his head. He knew that, deep down, the reason for his own loneliness was all due to himself. He knows now that there were plenty in his life that loved him, that always treated him like family even when, genetically, he wasn’t. But he had been blinded by jealousy and hatred, hatred that they had kept the secret of his true nature quiet for so long. It was because of this; this stubbornness and this selfish, false ideal that he deserves more, that he had made himself alone. 

But Sylvie…? She had been well and truly alone. From such a young age, an age where his mother had barely begun teaching him the basics of magic, she had been snatched away from her life. Everything she ever knew and loved had been wiped away, the timeline dumped here just like everything else the TVA – or whoever the hell is actually in charge of the damn universe and its multiple timelines – decided was too much of a threat. Ever since then, from that very same day she had managed to escape their clutches, she had been running alone. All those years, fighting to survive, completely alone, existing in one apocalypse after the other. Even if she did try and interact with the people in those timelines, what would be the point? They were doomed to die, anyway… 

Her words echo in his head for a moment, her sad smile seemingly etched into his memory. A part of him, that strangely soft side he didn’t know existed that had been growing stronger and stronger these past few days, burst with the need to do something, to remove the pain she was feeling. For just a split second, he nearly gives into it. He nearly says the words that were forcing their way to the forefront of his brain. 

‘I care about you.’

But the words stay safely locked away in his head. Sylvie looks away from him, and the moment passes. He didn’t know if she had been expecting for him to say anything, and he certainly didn’t know what it is she might have thought he would say. His mind clambers for something, for anything to try and bring the moment back.

A strong gust of cool wind blows over them, sending chills across his pale skin - despite the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. He knew that, if he really wanted to warm himself up, he could shift into his true form. Except, he didn’t see it as his true form. He has been an Asgardian as long as he can remember, and for all intents and purpose, this is who he’s meant to be. He is the son of Odin, son of Frigga, brother to Thor, an Asgardian, and he’s proud of that. 

And that’s when the idea pops into his head.

“It’s cold,” Loki states the obvious to Sylvie with a shiver of his upper body, glancing over to try and catch her reaction out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he wonders if Sylvie has the same views on their true heritage as he does, considering that, in her timeline, she was told she was adopted much earlier than he was. 

She doesn’t mention anything about it, though. Instead, she simply agrees with his statement with a hum of “Mmm-Hmm,” but it’s exactly the kind of answer he’s looking for.

From the outside, it looks like an easy twirl of his fingers and a burst of lime-green light, but in reality, it’s years and years of practice, both by himself and… and with his mother. The weight of the blanket - though light - is comforting as it wraps around his shoulders; silky smooth to the touch and of a darker green than the light of his their magic. 

The burst of color gets Sylvie’s attention, looking over to Loki again to see the new blanket he had materialized out of seemingly thin air - which… he did. 

“I could conjure one for you, if you like?” Loki offers.

Sylvie smiles for just a split second, enough for Loki to believe that she might just say yes. But then her nose scrunches as she comes back to herself, and the belief is gone. “Tell you what, you could conjure me a new outfit,” Sylvie says off-handedly, pulling at the tight collar of her outfit. “You have no idea how uncomfortable something like this is.”

It’s a deflection. He knows that all too well, because… because it’s something he’d do. Not that he can blame her in the slightest. As he had said, just before he was pruned through the heart and sent here - this was entirely new for him. Sure, he had had his fair share of flings back home. Rare occasions when he would give in to temptations, let himself experience a slice of normality. But it was never real. He did not doubt that those that fell into his bed did not do so because they felt a connection, or saw a future. And neither did he. He was a prince, a God, and for most, saying you were able to seduce a prince was an achievement. And for him? Well, it was an easy means to an end, he supposed. 

But this? This felt real. It was strange, it was something he had never experience before, and quite frankly, it scared the ever-living God’s out of him. So sure, he knew how to flirt… somewhat. But with this, with Sylvie? Everything was different, and he had no clue whatsoever what he should do.

“So…” Sylvie breaks him out of his thoughts. “Mobius, and his theory about…”

Oh. Well, he certainly hadn’t been expecting for the conversation to go there. Really, he had thought she might try and pretend to have never heard what Mobius had said. 

“Right, right. About our Nexus event-,”

“Total rubbish, right?”

He’d be lying if he said that didn’t sting a little bit. “Absolutely,” ‘Liar’, a voice in his head hisses. “Of course, I mean-,”

“I don’t mean that it wasn’t a nice moment,” Sylvie hurries to say, and it lessens that sting just a little bit. 

“No, it was great! It was really nice.”

“It just… sounds like another TVA lie.”

Which... Yes, when he thinks about it, could you easily have been a lie. Not that he thinks that Mobius would lie to them about this, no, but that someone else within the TVA had fed Mobius the lie. For what reason, he's not entirely sure. To throw them off the scent perhaps? Keep them from figuring out what can really cause a Nexus Event so powerful that it could conceivably take the TVA down. 

Or, perhaps they just enjoyed lying. More than him even - and that's saying something. 

"A hundred percent. I mean totally, yeah."

And oh, what was this? Loki tries to meet her eye, expecting her to nod her head vehemently in agreement to his statement. But... She won't look at him. She gives a somewhat strained-looking smile, more like a grimace than anything, and if he looks hard enough - by which he means projects his own feelings onto Sylvie and hopes she feels the same - he could almost imagine there was a flicker of disappointment there, too. 

"I don't know how to do this," Sylvie says, an admission he didn't expect. She looks about as awkward as he feels, eyes fixated on her fingers as she plays with them. 

"I don't even know what we're doing," Loki returns, and dear oh dear did he genuinely mean that. One moment he thinks he should take that step, say something, anything. And then the very next moment it becomes the wrong time, the wrong thing to say, and he's back to square one. 

It was frustrating, to say the least.

"I don't have friends," Sylvie carries on, and it's another dagger through the heart. Yet another thing that was so similar, yet so, so different. He had been given so many opportunities for companionship, for friends, but he repeatedly threw them all away. But Sylvie? She wasn't even given the chance. She truly had-

"I don't have..." Sylvie trails off, a long gap where she struggles to find the right word to use. Her eyes had locked onto his, and he knew that nothing less than Alioth appearing right above their heads would get him to tear his eyes away.

"... Anyone." 

"Well, there are more important things, right?" Loki desperately grasps for something to wipe away the blank, dejected look that was etched onto her features. 

"Right? Yeah, like bringing down the TVA." 

For once, one of his plans was going well. "Saving the universe, even."

"Well, there's no need to be dramatic - but yeah, kind of!" 

Then there it was again - a particularly strong breeze pushing up to the little hill they were sat on. Sylvie gives a little shiver as it washes over them, a barely noticeable shuffle in an attempt to get warm, and Loki jumps at the opportunity. 

It only takes one small adjustment, a brief push of magic, and then the blanket is growing, wrapping itself around Sylvie's shoulders in a motion so smooth, you'd think he'd done something like this hundreds of times before. Loki smiles gently to her when she notices the change, and his smile only grows more as Sylvie pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders, shuffling closer to him by just the smallest of movements. Yet another plan he could now say was a success. 

"It's not very snuggly."

Or, maybe not. "Okay," Loki manages to get out through a surprised laugh, but he does get some sort of gratification in seeing her smile at his response. 

"Is it a tablecloth?" 

"No, it's a blanket," Loki finds himself strangely defending his materialized choice of cloth. 

There’s a pause, the quickest of glances up to him. He sees a brief flash of pink as she pokes out the tip of her tongue between her lips, wetting them as she struggles to get out her next words. “Thank you.”

Loki gets a strange feeling she doesn’t get to say that all too often. Whether that be because she chooses not to, or because she’s never had the opportunity to. When was the last time someone did something nice for her…?

“My pleasure.”

Sure, this was all new, and all types of scary. But, as he sat here, shoulder to shoulder with Sylvie, looking out to the dreary yet oddly beautiful landscape scattered with remnants from pruned timelines, he can't help but feel that this moment right here? It was… nice. Despite the TVA, despite Alioth, despite the fear of imminent death he’s had to live through nearly every moment since the Tesseract flung him into that desert in Mongolia, he had managed to find himself some semblance of peace. 

And it was because of the person next to him.

“How do I know that, in the final moments, you won't betray me?”

Now, this was a conversation he had been expecting. How can he not? It seemed that nearly every single person he’s ever come across, who he hasn’t immediately tried to murder, wonders the exact same thing. The ‘inevitable’ betrayal every Loki seems incapable not to carry out. 

And he couldn’t blame them, just as he can’t blame Sylvie for wondering the same thing. Really, he had thought the whole reason she had wanted this moment to talk to him was to have this very conversation. It was… it was something he had thought about himself, ever since being dragged in by the TVA. It was Mobius that had shown him his consistent deceitful nature - quite literally, by showing him film of every moment in his life where his flair for dramatics and affiliation for backstabbing was apparently used for ‘the bettering of others’. 

It had become deeply ingrained into his nature. It became what he was known for, what his family knew him for. He supposed it gave him some sense of… satisfaction, perhaps? A false sense of security, that he always has the upper hand when need be. It was almost like a trial, opportunities to prove to himself that, when the time comes, he can do what it takes to claim what he, false-fully, felt he was owed. He was certain that the only path to being a rightful ruler was one filled with betrayal. 

And now, after only a few days with Mobius - and an even shorter amount of days with Sylvie, his previous ambition he’s been working towards for so long suddenly wasn’t as important. Things had changed. 

He had changed. 

And that was part of the reason the TVA wanted him dead. 

“Listen, Sylvie, I…” Loki starts, but then stops. He sighs deeply, wanting to find the best way to get this across to her. He needed her to understand. “I betrayed everyone who ever loved me. I betrayed my father, my brother… my home.”

He at least had her full attention now. No more awkward glances at one another, unable to maintain more than a few seconds of eye contact. This was important, and they both knew it. “I know what I did. And I know why I did it. And that’s not who I am anymore. Okay?”

There’s nothing on her face that he can read, nothing that says whether she believes him or not. She had been expecting him to say this, he supposed. “I won't let you down,” Loki says, and he says it like a promise - one he fully intends to keep. 

“You sure?” Sylvie asks, and he nods his head straight away in response. “ ‘Cause if we make it, and the TVA is gone, there might be a timeline for you to rule.” Sylvie continues with a challenging - yet slightly teasing- narrowing of her eyes. 

“Ah,” Loki says wistfully, looking out to the horizon as if dreaming of such an event. “And then I’d finally be happy.”

Except, he wouldn’t. He only has to look at his older self to know that. The only one of himself that had beaten the one event that’s supposed to define their lives. He had tricked the mad titan himself, found himself a little corner of the universe to live out his life in peace. No more people he has to challenge, no more opportunities for betrayal - by him, or to him. 

And he looked… miserable. 

Now, though? Right here and now, he wasn’t miserable. He certainly wasn’t relaxed, that was for sure, but far from miserable. He had ended his little exclamation with a rare smile that wasn’t a smirk - or forced- and miraculously, Sylvie returned one just as wide as his; wide enough even for him to see the little laughter lines crinkling at the corner of her eyes.

“What about you?” Loki asks. “What will you do when this is all over?”

Sylvie takes a moment to think, tucking an unruly strand of hair away from her face. “I don’t know.”

He couldn’t even begin to try and put himself in her shoes. Sylvie had spent… hundreds, perhaps even a thousand years of her life just running. Surviving. Doing whatever it takes to make sure she wasn’t wiped off the board by some mystery figure, or group, that had deemed her too dangerous to the timeline. And for what? Some kind of sick desire to have control over every single living thing in every type of Universe to ever exist?

Which… which sounded an awful lot like himself, now he thought about it. Maybe whoever was in charge of the TVA was another variant of himself…

“I don’t know either,” Loki said, and that added to the tally of growing truths he was admitting to people - perhaps the most in his life. 

At some point, this all had to be over. Whether… whether it ends in his death once again, another defeat by a power-hungry being, or with their victory. No more TVA. No more pruning of variants. No more control. Sure, Sylvie had made that joke about him ruling a separate timeline, but… what would he do once this was all over, assuming her survives it? What did he want to do?

What does he want? 

‘Look at your eyes! You like her!’

‘What?’

‘You like her! Does she like you?’

‘Was she pruned-’

‘No wonder you have no clue what caused the Nexus Event on Lamentis; both of you are swooning over each other!’

‘Tell me the truth-’

‘It’s the apocalypse! Two Variants of the same being, especially you, forming this sick, twisted romantic relationship - that’s pure chaos! That could break reality, it’s breaking my reality right now! What an incredible, seismic narcissist - you fell for yourself!’

‘Her name was Sylvie’.

Mobius had truly tricked him there. At least now he knew how cruel it was to be on the other side of such a bluff, he supposed. He had always prided himself on his acting abilities, his innate way of lying to others. Yet, apparently, when it came to Sylvie… he puts his full emotions on display. He had become too overcome with emotions at the mere thought of Mobius telling the truth, that Sylvie was well and truly gone, and he had snapped. He was…

Yes… That was the word. 

He was heartbroken. 

‘You conniving, craven, pathetic worm. I hope you know you deserve to be alone and you always will be.’

‘Do you really think you deserve to be alone?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well then you better figure it out quick, because the Nexus Event the two of you caused, whatever that connection is, can bring this whole place down.’

Maybe, just maybe… Mobius was onto something there. Maybe Sif, even in that small, once insignificant memory buried in his mind, was wrong. 

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be alone.

Maybe he didn’t have to be. 

“Maybe…” The words get caught in his throat, spoken softer than he intended to. He involuntary finds himself leaning closer to Sylvie, to the warmth radiating from her, trapped within the blanket wrapped around them. “Maybe we could figure it out... together.”

He had meant for it to come out more as a question, an offering. A possibility for the both of them. But what it really sounded like was a… well; a sincere, hope-filled attempt to keep hold of… this. Whatever this was, he knew he wanted it. However things went, he knew-

He wanted Sylvie in his life. 

His heart was racing in his chest, pounding almost as hard as it does in the midst of battle. In the unlikely event he’s a free man after all of this over, he’ll have to go and find his brother - if he’ll even talk to him, that is - and apologize for the harsh insult he used; for berating his older brother over his affection for that Earth woman. 

He understood now. 

He almost misses the slightest of reactions as Sylvie looks up to him - and what he knows is an earnest, vulnerable glaze in his eyes. It’s the smallest of things, almost impossible to see, but there’s a slight pull to the corner of her lips as she looks to him. Almost as if she was fighting back a smile at his proposition. 

“Maybe,” She whispers back to him, just as quiet and tender as his own words. It’s not a yes, not in the way his frantically racing heart was hoping to hear, but it was a start. It was Sylvie’s own returning of a proposition, her own olive branch. The possibility he had given that she was extending right back to him. 

Maybe. 

Maybe.

Maybe.

Yes… Maybe they’d survive this. Maybe he and Sylvie would bring down the tyrant who oversees ‘the sacred timeline’. Maybe he’ll find Mobius again, alive and well, having turned the entirety of the TVA’s workforce against the organization they devoted their lives to, and burn it to the ground. 

Maybe Sylvie will let him stay by her side. 

Maybe, he’ll carve that new path in his life - with Sylvie’s intertwined with his.

Maybe he’ll find that new Glorious Purpose.

Maybe he won’t be alone. 

Maybe he’ll be happy. 

Maybe…

You know what? He was starting to like that word. 

[glassessence]

PGR - OC

I got so inspired by everyone’s creativity that I created my own OC ^^” Even though she’s a member of the Purifying Force, I hope she’ll still be received warmly. Special thanks to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs​ for their detailed posts about character creation that really made me think about Lydias! 

Warning: I may have gone a bit overboard with the detail. It’s a long read! Also, I threw in a not-so-subtle reference to the most traumatic Memory Rescue mission lmao. So proceed with caution, I guess HAHA

Name                          Lydias: Umbral

Type                            Offensive Support-type Construct

Service time              1 year

Psychological age    24

Activation date         15 March

Height                         167 cm

Weight                        59 kg

Vital fluid type          O

Faction                        Purifying Force

Rank                            A

Weapon                      Chakrams (preferred) /  Gun

Damage type             70% Dark, 30% Physical

Lydias is a support-type Construct modelled after Watanabe’s Astral frame. She has extreme stealth capabilities and excels at tracking, making her ideal for the execution of rogue and infected Constructs.

Her missions mostly involve infiltration and spying, although she’s also been deployed on assassination missions. Those orders come straight from Nikola and their records are kept top-secret, inaccessible even to Bianca.

Her frame is designed for long-range sniping and comes equipped with visual accuracy enhancements and superb calculative powers. However, Lydias prefers to engage her targets in close combat. Killing Constructs from afar feels cruel and cold, like they really are meaningless machines instead of former comrades.

She truly believes in the good of the Purifying Force, but hates the things she has to do. She doesn’t feel like she belongs, but also can’t see a future for herself anywhere else.

Her fighting style is very graceful, featuring a lot of spins and flips that are reminiscent of a dance. Her signature move is called “Blade Dance.”

B A C K G R O U N D 

Lydias was born to a wealthy family in Babylonia. Her mother joined the war effort as a Commandant shortly after she was born and is known as the leader of the elite task force, Cybele. Since then, Lydias has always wanted to follow in her mother’s famous footsteps.

Originally a Commandant of the Black Wolves, a certain incident caused her to give up the position and apply for reconstruction. Despite having low compatibility for Tantalum-193, her application was approved after negotiations with Nikola. Following her surgery, she was transferred to the Purifying Force.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Shows affection through actions rather than words. Bakes cakes for the humans of Babylonia in her free time

Philosophical, often ponders on the nature of humans and of the war

Likes to make dirty jokes and tease others

Obedient to a fault because she doesn’t trust her own judgement

Comes across as cold, but is just awkward with introductions

Doesn't think very highly of herself. Ignores it when other Constructs call her "traitorous hunting dog" but secretly thinks they're right

Loves the sea and the fathomless depths yet to be explored. Likes to go swimming at every opportunity

Prefers to work alone, but overprotective of her comrades when in a team. Frequently throws herself in harm’s way to shield her teammates. Knows it’s not good, but is too haunted by her past

Trusts easily, but is very guarded with her heart

Knows how to dance a lot of old-school styles like ballroom and ballet, but is too shy to ask anyone to practice with her

S E C R E T S

Has memorised a lot of poetry from before the Punishing Virus outbreak

Gets intensely lonely and jealous when seeing close squad camaraderie like Gray Raven’s

Avoids Kamui because he reminds her of someone she’s lost

Has spied on Watanabe extensively under Babylonian orders and is deeply fascinated by him

Doesn’t trust Nikola, but is unable to disobey his commands

Secretly harbours doubts about Babylonia’s mission to reclaim Earth

Has obtained special permission to download the data of the Black Wolves and often reads the records to keep them alive in her heart

V O I C E   L I N E S

“Team leader? No, I refuse. You’re making a grave mistake.”

“I’m not suited for protecting people.”

“My opinion on the Forsaken? They’re hardworking, loyal, and--Nevermind. We seem to share a similar goal.”

“The Black Wolves? Where did you hear of that name?! Don’t mention it again!”

“I baked a cake today. Would you like some?”

“Yes, I can dance. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell the others…”

“I can teach you to dance. Privately, if you’d like. Haha, just kidding.”

“Becoming a Construct was a decision I made rashly. I don’t necessarily regret it, but…”

“Are we really doing the right thing? This endless war… All these years… What have we really achieved?”

INTERLUDE

D U S K F A L L

A voice cracked over the intercom. “...dant…Com...ant...Commandant, do you hear me?!”

Lydias blinked. The urgency in his voice caught her off guard. Ferdinand kept his cool even in the most dire of situations. Something was very wrong. “Tell me, Ferdie.” Static. “Ferds? Come through!” Nothing. Communications had been poor ever since they’d entered this area, but they’d managed until now. For it to suddenly fail like that… it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Shit,” she said, turning to the other two Constructs with her. “On guard, guys. Something’s coming and comms are down.”

Ilya grimaced. “Sure it’s not one of Ferdinand’s pranks again?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Flora offered, even as she tightened her grip on her lance. “Pesky little bastard would find it hilarious.” Lydias said nothing. She was too tense. There was a taste in the air, a metallic tang that churned in her belly. Sweat dripped into her eye. Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back. “Relax, Commandant,” Ilya chuckled. “We’ll protect you like always. No need to be so scared all the time.”

Something in her loosened, just a bit. “Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you?” she retorted, trying to project confidence. “You guys with your fragile little M.I.N.Ds?” Flora laughed, a deep-belly rumble that Lydias loved. The knot in her stomach unravelled some more. “You do that, Commandant,” Flora said. “We’ll just twirl our pointy sticks at the bad guys.”

Lydias was just about to say something snarky when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She swirled, gun at the ready. There was still no word from Ferdinand. “I’m sensing a large Corrupted force in our perimeter,” Ilya reported. His voice had lost its casual lilt. “They’ve got us surrounded.”

Lydias cursed. “How’s that Memory retrieval coming along?”

“Slowly,” Ilya replied unhappily. Flora clicked her tongue. The Corrupted were visible now. They weren’t like anything Lydias had seen before. They carried advanced weapons - chainsaws and spears and bows - and seemed to be organised into phalanxes. Dread coiled in her belly. “We’ve been ambushed,” she breathed in horror. “Ferdinand tried to warn us. They must have blocked off comms.”

“Well, shit,” Flora grunted. The Corrupted army was within gunshot range now. “When the fuck did they get so smart?”

“Someone must be leading them,” Ilya said. “How did the information leak?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lydias said. “We need to retreat. Now.” A bullet flew by her head, burning the shell of her ear as it passed. Her heart hammered. “Back off,” Flora growled. She twirled her spear, eyes flashing as she impaled the Corrupted soldier. Beside her, Ilya stepped forward, fast as a flash, and stabbed one through the neck. Lydias fired off three shots, watching in grim satisfaction as two buried themselves in the heads of two infected Constructs.

The scene descended into chaos just as Ferdinand’s broken voice sounded in her ear. “...n...way! Comm...ant!”

-----------

Flora stumbled back. She was breathing heavily. Vital fluid leaked steadily from several places, staining her coat a rich purple. Ilya was behind her, grimacing. His left arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder. Sparks flew from the exposed wires within. Beside them, Lydias swayed unsteadily. She clutched at her stomach. Red blood seeped through her fingers. All their attempts to break through had failed. Things were looking more hopeless by the minute. 

“Commandant,” Ilya said, voice strained. “Turn off my pain receptors.” Flora nodded. “Same here.” Lydias coughed wetly. Her vision was growing dim. “It’s dangerous,” she admitted, wishing she could shut off her own terrible pain. “But there’s no other choice.” She authorised the command. Her team’s face relaxed immediately. She met their determined gazes and nodded. “We’re all gonna go home. Together.”

Ilya smiled. Flora grinned. But there was a sadness in their faces Lydias didn’t want to acknowledge. Her connection with Ferdinand was still blocked. He could be dead for all she knew. She turned away from the thought. Just survive, Lydias. And take the Wolves home.

Together, the Black Wolves rose. Ilya with his dagger and Flora with her spear. Unseen by Lydias, they nodded to each other. An agreement, a pact. A promise. Renewed, they threw themselves at the Corrupted like cornered animals. Slowly, inch by painful inch, an exit was being forced open. Corrupted weapons dug into their bodies, but they pushed on. 

Lydias fought beside them, swinging her chakrams haphazardly. Her gun had run out of ammo long ago. She stumbled, half-blind, and almost skewered herself on the end of a Corrupted sword. She could hardly think straight; blood loss was making her weak. Suddenly, a voice crackled in her mind. “Commandant!” Ferdinand’s voice tumbled through her hazy thoughts. “The signal jammer is gone. What’s your status?!”

Her heart soared, bringing with it a brief burst of clarity. “Ferdie! It’s an ambush. We need support!”

“I’ve already informed Babylonia,” he said urgently. “Reinforcement is on the way. I’m coming to you, Commandant. Just hold on!” His signal blinked to life, moving rapidly towards their location. Lydias smiled grimly. Ferdinand was on his way. Support was coming. Surely, they would be okay. They would make it out of this. She just had to hold on for a little longer. 

Flora’s signal pulsed unsteadily and Ilya’s grew fainter with every breath. Lydias clung with desperation to the unstable M.I.N.Ds of her Wolves. I will protect you.

-----------

“Coming through!” A ray of energy tore through the Corrupted wave. Lydias spied Ferdinand’s face through the sea of blades. She almost wept with relief. “Retreat,” she said hoarsely, struggling to stay conscious. “Black Wolves, retreat!”

On cue, Ilya and Flora rushed through the tunnel, half-carrying Lydias with them. Between one ferocious breath and the next, they’d broken through the Corrupted circle. She tumbled bonelessly into Ferdinand’s open arms. He took a brief moment to survey her and paled. “The meeting point isn’t far,” he said. “Support will be there.” He picked up Lydias and turned to run, but Ilya and Flora didn’t follow. 

“Sorry, but this is the end of the road for me,” Flora said wryly. “Didn’t think it’d end like this.” She spat out a wad of purple fluid. “At least these fuckers will go down with me.”

“And you get the privilege of dying by my side,” Ilya said primly, readjusting his grip on his dagger. Flora laughed, an edge of sadness in her voice. “Yeah, old man, I guess I do.”

Lydias stirred in Ferdinand’s arms. “No,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes. “I won’t allow it.” 

“Unfortunately, Commandant,” Ilya said. “This time it’s not up to you.” He raised his remaining hand in a salute. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Go on,” Flora growled. “We’ll make sure nobody pursues you.”

Ferdinand pursed his lips, but nodded tightly. Lydias fought in his grip. She hardly even felt the pain. “No!” she screamed, or tried to. It was hard to tell where her voice was. “Don’t! I forbid it! That’s an order!” He started running. She watched helplessly as the distance grew. “Stop! Go back, we have to help them! Stop!”

In the fading light, Ilya fell and was immediately consumed by a horde of Corrupted hands. His signal weakened then blinked out. A scream tore itself from her throat. She thrashed in Ferdinand’s grip and felt his hold on her loosen. White-hot pain shot through her body as she tumbled to the ground. Mad with grief, she crawled forward desperately, mind blank except for the desire to be with her Wolves. 

Strong arms lifted her up. Ferdinand’s lively voice was dull. “Please don’t do this, Lydias.” 

“Let go, Ferdie,” she said angrily. “We have to--” Flora’s signal flickered out. Lydias felt her spirit break. “No,” she cried. “Please, no.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Words abandoned her. The world seemed to shrink, compacting to a single thought: she had failed. 

-----------

She woke to white light. Something beeped steadily beside her. Tubes ran from her body to several machines like the tentacles of some deep sea creature. Her entire body hurt. Immediately, she reached for the Black Wolves, but their signals were absent, leaving her mind uncomfortably empty. Panic settled like ice in her veins. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. 

Surely, they had recalled their consciousnesses. Surely, she’d simply woken up early. And where was Ferdie? Gasping, Lydias stood, dragging her broken body to the wall of windows. She brought a fist to the cool glass. Nikola watched her from the other side. “Where are they,” she croaked. “What happened?”

He shook his head sympathetically. “They didn’t recall their consciousness. According to our records, Ilya and Flora died protecting you from pursuit. Ferdinand was infected.” His eyes were grave. “He guarded you until reinforcements arrived.”

She didn’t know if she could bear the answer, but she asked anyway. “And then?”

Nikola studied her for a long moment before giving in. “And then the Punishing Virus took over his M.I.N.D. He escaped because we prioritised your survival.” A desperate hope sparked to life within her. “So he’s still alive? Then there’s still a chance! Please, let me find him!”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” 

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

He turned away from her. “The Purifying Force has already been sent after him. I’m sorry, Lydias.”

-----------

Three weeks later

“Are you sure?” Nikola asked, studying her with intensity. “Your chances of success are only 47%.”

Lydias stared at him blankly. “I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it. Commandants are valuable to Babylonia. Perhaps even more than Constructs. Few possess the will and compatibility to stabilize M.I.N.Ds. Someone as experienced as you is not expendable.”

“Then I quit being a Commandant. I refuse to lead another squad.” She looked away. “I couldn’t protect any of them. Not a single one.” Her voice broke. “I’m not… I don’t think I can--I just can’t.”

Nikola considered her with some pity. “What do you want then, Lydias?”

“You know what I want. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I know you’re not afraid, but it seems to me like you seek it.”

She said nothing. Nikola sighed. “I’d rather not lose you completely. You have experience and ability. The Black Wolves were specifically chosen for that mission for your competence. Aife will increase our combat power significantly against the Corrupted.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unfortunate, but these things happen at war.”

“Say whatever you want,” Lydias said stubbornly. “But this is my final decision.”

“Fine,” Nikola said. “Your attempt at redemption is admirable. I’ll grant your request, but if you survive, you’ll work directly under me. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly.”

INTERLUDE HIDDEN CHAPTER

F A D I N G   L I G H T

Flora: Fairfrost - Voice Log 

*sounds of fighting* I hope this reaches you, Commandant. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer and… *grunting* I just wanna say goodbye. The old man’s already gone. I felt his signal die out a while ago. He went down taking a blade for me, can you believe it? Even though I’m the Attacker Construct. *panting* You know what his last words to me were? “It hurts.” As if our pain receptors weren’t turned off. I know what he means though. *blades clashing* After all, we all wanna go back home with you. But life’s a bit unfair, eh? For once, I don’t mind. Protecting your back… it almost makes me feel like a hero. That ain’t something you experience every day, y’know? *metal tearing* I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being someone worthy of love. *crash, wet coughing* It’s been my honour and privilege to have been one of your Wolves, Commandant. You’ll remember me, won’t you?

-----------

Ferdinand: Aegis - Voice Log 

Lydias… This will probably be my last communication with you. I never would have thought this would be how it ends, but… Well, I’m just glad that I get to spend my final moments with you. I can feel my M.I.N.D. slipping, but Babylonia will be here any second now. They’ll take care of you, the way I wish I could. *sigh* Ah, there are so many things I want to say. I have nothing to lose anymore, so I hope you’re ready to listen. *deep breath* I love you. The way you laugh at my jokes and tease me. The way you can talk about anything. Your smile, your lips. I love the way you kiss me. And of course, I love our late night activities… Such as you trying to teach me to dance. *short laughter* Were you expecting me to say something else, Commandant? You--*grunt, glitching* Looks like my time is running out. I should go, but promise me one thing, Lydias. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open, so that someone else can love you as you deserve. I--You--*glitches*

DATA CORRUPTED.

[violetnotez]

Ohohoho yes anon let’s turn this broccoli boi to the dark side 😈😈😈 also thank u @gallickingun for helping me with the plot!!!! And @jojosmilktea for hyping up my banner cause I seriosuly don’t know what I’m doing with graphics 😂😂😂

Izuku x reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: slight cussing

Summary: Izuku feels he is never going to get a chance to be close to you, being you two are so much more different than each other. But seeing you spar with Bakugo makes him decide that he has to shoot his shot-before it becomes too late.

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

Y/n l/n.

Your name was written at the top of the page in Izuku’s messy handwriting, the name particularly more neat than the other names in his notebook.

Right under your name was a crude sketch of your hero suit, just like the rest of his pages of notes. Yours was somehow a little different, a little more detailed than the rest. It seemed to have more care put into it, as well as a lot more notes surrounding it than the other entries.

The other pages about the heroes and students he had encountered were much more simpler than yours, the writing only focusing on their powers and their notable strengths. You on the other hand, were different-Izuku had seemed to write everything about you he could fit into that initial page, the immense amount of detail eventually spreading out to the following pages.

No matter how he looked at the situation, Izuku knew he had fallen head over heels for you. He knew he shouldn’t have-it was like you two were practically in two different worlds.

You were blunt, assertive, and a little on the rebellious side. You acted first and thought of rules later, being the first to challenge someone to a fighting match, or agree to a dare no matter how risque it was. You were a risk taker, and you knew it, which made you such a perfect addition to Bakusquad.

Izuku,on the other hand, was nothing like that- he studied everyday like a good student, and always made sure to stay out of trouble as much as possible. He colored in between the lines, and he felt like he was so bland when compared to your wild spirit.

Even though you two were completely different in every way, he couldn’t keep you out of his head. You never seemed to look down on him, always greeting him with a warm smile and asking him how he was. Your laugh echoed in his head like a catchy song, and the way you would send him smiles from across the room made his heart race. Izuku was fully aware that he was most likely going to get his heart broken if he didn’t make a move soon, but he was content at the moment with admiring your beauty and resilience from afar.

“Cmon y/n, I told you not to go easy on me!”

Izuku perked his head up from his note taking, noticing that voice to be none other than Bakugo. Poor Izuku’s eyes were blown out of sockets, though, as he saw the scene unfolding in front of him.

There was Kachan, his friend and sometimes rival, toppled on top of you, his torso straddling your hips. Bakugo’s large hands had your wrists pinned to the ground, his powerful legs pushing yours into the ground to keep you from squirming.

Uncharacteristic anger bubbled inside Izuku as he saw Bakugo on top of you in such a suggestive pose. He knew you two were just training, but-he couldn’t help but wish that he was the one on top of you, not Bakugo. Heck, he just wished he was the one you asked for help with training and not Kachan. Izuku never wanted to feel like he was competing with his friend, but right now, he felt like he was-and he was losing.

It didn’t help either that you were close to Bakugo, always hanging out with him and his friends. You weren’t that afraid of his yelling and his threats, merely laughing at him when he was on another rampage. Bakugo seems to treat you like an equal, actually offering you compliments from time to time and allowing you to train with him. Izuku knew only a few people could earn Bakugo’s respect, and it couldn't be a good thing for his love life if his antisocial best friend seemed to take an extra interest in his crush.

Izuku watched as you laughed at Bakugo’s statement, your sweet laugh ringing like bells.

“Hell Bakugo, you thought that was me going easy? I was just getting started!” You scoffed at the ash blonde boy, your chest then connecting with his.

Izuku sucked in a tight breath, holding it in as he watched you wrap your legs around your opponent. You then quickly flipped your bodies around, landing so it was now you, not Kachan, who was on top. Bakugo took a large gasp of air, his lungs unable to get a proper inhale from the sudden movement.

You shoved his shoulders into the ground, shimmying on his chest to get a better grip.

“God Bakugo, you're so quiet!” You smirked, “Didn't know you liked being a bottom so much-“

“S-s-shut the hell up you damn idiot, I’ll fucking-“ Bakugo instantly started yelling at you, the twinge of red in his cheecks hard to ignore for Izuku. You continued to laugh at his reaction, your body shaking from the giggles as you continued to sit on his stomach.

Izuku looked down at his notebook full of notes about his devotion to you, sighing sadly-

Yeah, he had no chance.

As you continued to chuckle, trying to hold your grip on the aggressive boy under you, you looked to your left. To your surprise, you saw a lonely looking Midoriya under a shady spot of a tree, looking slightly sad as he stared down at his lap.

You and Izuku were pretty good friends, as you both seemed to have mutual likes and interests in and out of class. You didn’t talk much to the green haired boy, but you found him to be extremely sweet and quite attractive. You also didn’t socialize with him as much as you wished you did, but since you two were completely different friend groups, it made it quite difficult to hang out with the greenette.

You wished you knew what was going on in that poor boy's head right now, his head hanging low on his shoulders. He looked so defeated, his back arched as if he was carrying a heavy burden on himself.

“Shitty woman-your hurting my fucking wrists!” Bakugo spat out, his eyes filled with anger. You smirked at your opponent, knowing full well that was his way of “taping out”.

“Sorry Bakubro-,” you replied, rolling off his stomach as he rubbed his wrists tenderly, muttering about how “crappy” you were.

You ignored your friend’s remarks, making your way over to the poor boy underneath the cherry blossom tree. He didn’t seem to even notice you walking towards him, his hands resting sadly on his notebook in deep thought. You smiled softly at him-he looked so cute when he was thinking so intently, even if he did look a little solemn.

“Hey, Earth to Midoriya!” You hovered your hand over his eyes, breaking his daze.

“Oh-uh-y-y/n!” He squeaked, his body jumping from your sudden presence.

You laughed at his jumpiness, causing a red hue to grace his cheeks. Izuku didn’t even notice you sneaking up on him...but the fact he had made you laugh made him stomach feel warm and fluttery.

You stood in front of the boy, thinking it might be better to be at eye level with him.

“Mind if I sit?” You asked

Midoriya shook his head vigorously, his heart pumping wildly in his chest. “N-n-no, not at all!” He said enthusiastically, scooting over so you had more room.

You plopped yourself right next to him, seemingly unfazed by the sudden closeness. Izuku, on the other hand, was freaking out internally.

He could practically feel the heat radiating off you, your infectious personality seeping into his, brightening up his spirits. Your shoulder was resting on his, the breeze flitting through both your hairs. He couldn’t believe you had come to him, let alone sit next to him and want to talk. Even if you maybe had a thing with Bakugo, this was a win in his head.

You looked down at Midoriya's hands, noticing the slight shake in his fingertips. You smiled softly-this boy was too nervous for his own good.

“Are your hands doing okay-I know you train really hard,” you stated matter of factly, tenderly picking up one of his scarred and calloused hands with your own.

Izuku’s brain was about to explode-you were touching him now? Even though his brain felt fuzzy and full of static, he loved the way your skin felt against his own. It was just as calloused, but the skin was softer and feather light, the pads of your fingers tracing each scar like a message in Braille. You flipped his hand over gently, following the roads of his skin as you inspected his hand.

Each touch left a ticklish feeling that settled in his skin, the tingling simultaneously calming and accelerating his heart rate. God, he could get used to this.

“Their-their doing fine,” he stuttered out, his face engulfed in red.

“You sure?” You gave him a knowing look, a small smirk on your lips. “Cause you look like you punched a wall”

You giggled at his embarrassed face, your sweet voice making his heart thump against his chest.

“Well, since I’m still not used to my power yet, it takes quite a toll on my body,” he rambled , staring at the hand you were currently holding, “s-so I have to train extra hard to allow my body to fully grow to handle its power.”

You nodded your head, letting go of his hand and resting yours on your knee.

“That makes sense,” you agreed, resting your head on the trunk of the tree, “You got a hell of a powerful quirk if you have to train that hard...I've always admired you for that.”

Izuku’s head shot up in confusion...admired him? He thought you didn’t even notice he was alive! He stared at your profile, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Oh, it’s really not that big of a deal,” he rambled on again, scratching the back of his neck, “it’s expected of me to do that-“

“No it isn’t!” You argued back supportively, “none of us ever train as hard as you do! You always try your best, no matter the circumstances. Hell, I don’t even think Shoto trains as hard as you and he’s the one that came to UA off of recommendations!”

“Oh-oh it’s not that big of a deal, I promise-“

You were beginning to feel frustrated that this shy boy couldn’t take your compliment. Midoriya was too sweet and humble for his own good, and it took quite a lot to get him to believe your words. You took that as a challenge, and you were all up for it.

Your arm crossed over Izuku’s body, encasing him in your body so you could fully look at his face. His eyes were wide from your sudden movement, his freckles much more prominent as his cheeks were dusted with pink.

“You are strong Midoriya, and I have a reason to admire you,” you stated, your face a mere inches from his.

Izuku couldn’t move, and really, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. You were so close: he could see every beauty mark, every strand of hair that graced your complexion. He could even smell your perfume, a light floral scent that made his head swoon. He was feeling so awkward, not knowing how to react, but he wanted to stay like this forever.

You smiled at the young hero, taking his quiet demeanor as him surrendering to your compliments. You swung your body off of his, leaving a cold spot in Midoriya's stomach from moving away so soon.

“Which reminds me…” you began, your hands resting your stomach. “I wanted to see if you wanted to train tomorrow after class-I'd really like it if you gave me some pointers on my technique.”

“Oh-I’d be honored!” He exclaimed, but then chuckled nervously at a sudden realization.

“B-but I think Kachan wouldn’t like it if I were there…”

You cocked your head in confusion, staring at the greenette’s face, perplexed by his statement.

“Bakugo isn’t going to be there-it'll just be you and me,” you stated matter of factly.

Izuku instantly fidgeted, feeling dumb for just assuming it would you and all your friends. Of course if you asked it would just be him and you! He instantly shook off the embarrassment, feeling giddy from happiness. You had asked him-not Kirishima, or Shoto, or Kaminari, or even Kachan-him, to train with you. He felt like he was on top of the world.

But then the alarm bells began to ring in his mind, a memory flitting back into his head that was stopping him from agreeing instantly.

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

He was at the lunch table one day, staring sadly at your table full of friends. Right now, they were currently trying to throw pieces of meat into your mouth, the yells and laughs flowing over to his quiet table. You were laughing, trying to catch the small bits of food and looking like you were having the best time.

His friends noticed his saddened demeanor, following his gaze to your table.

“Midoriya are you feeling quite alright?” Iida asked as he looked down at the green haired boy, “you're staring quite intently.”

“Huh?” Izuku shook his head a few times, looking at Iida with rosy cheeks, “oh-oh I wasn’t staring-or looking at y/n-san…”

Uraraka giggled nervously, giving her friend a strange look. “Uh-Midoriya, Iida never said you were staring at y/n...just that you were staring-“

“Oh! Well - I was- uh…” he stuttered out, not knowing how to get out of the situation. He was cursing himself internally for basically admitting to his crush he had worked so hard to keep quiet.

Iida took a bite of his food, focusing his attention at your table as well.

“Y/n is truly a free spirit-she’s quite a rebel as well,” Iida commented.

“Yeah, it seems like almost every week Mr. Aizawa has to speak to her about something she’s done… she’s really nice, but she is a little on the wild side,” Uraraka followed suit, focusing her attention on a quiet Midoriya instead.

“Do you really like her Midoriya?” She asked, her wide eyes seemingly staring into his soul.

Izuku giggled nervously, fiddling with his hands. “I-I guess...maybe….”

Uraraka pursed her lips, giving Iida a pained look. They both cared for Midoriya dearly, but didn’t know much about you except you were one of the “wild ones” of Class 1-A. You and Midoriya seemed completely opposite, and both friends felt that this crush would end badly for poor Midoriya's heart.

Iida sighed again, looking at his blushing friend, “Midoriya, it is wonderful you find so much love and affection for y/n-“

“But this probably won’t end well. She’s friends with Bakugo, and all of his friends-she’s just so different from you Izuku. We just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Uraraka finished Iida’s statement, watching Izuku slump into his chair a little more.

He felt almost defeated-his friends were right, you two were in completely different worlds and values. No matter how much he tried to weave a plan or scenario in his mind that would somehow end in you two being together, it just never seemed to work out.

The bell rang for lunch to end, Izuku still slumped in his chair in defeat.

“Cmon Izuku,” Uraraka said sweetly, offering her hand to him, “let’s go to class,”

He got up sadly, his friend's words echoing in his mind as he walked to class.

They were right-it wouldn’t ever end well for him.

—————-

But now, seeing your waiting face so close to his, he couldn’t help but say yes. He had to at least try, to see if maybe you did have something between the two of you.

Forget about your wild personality, or the fact you two were so different, or the way you seemed so close to Kachan-he was going to shoot his shot, even if that meant he was going to get hurt in the process.

This was his chance-it was now or never.

Izuku took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow.

“I would-love to train with you...and-and maybe,” he gulped, feeling his heart beat fast against his chest, “we can get some ice cream after?”

You smirked at the blushing boy, having a feeling at what he was implying.

“Just you and me?” You mused, leaning into Izuku’s body slightly.

He nodded feverishly, feeling his confidence begin to wane slightly at your sudden closeness.

“Y-Yep! Just- you and me.”

—————-

Taggings (if ya want to be added, just shoot me an ask or comment on this post!)

@birds-have-teeth @gallickingun @yuueimagines @bnhabadass @dabis-devil @freckledoriya

[ambiguousdisorderken]

If you could introduce cas at any one time between s1-s3 where would you do it and why?

as much as i ADORE the dynamic between s1dean and cas, i’ll go with something different, and perhaps a bit sadder, but in my opinion all the more poignant and impactful for it: dean meets cas at the end of s2, see all hell breaks loose pt. ii, cemetery battle against azazel.

as designed by chuck, dean was supposed to be michael’s vessel once armageddon was set afoot, but the whole divine plan was jeopardized when sam died. neither faction (chuck’s machinations aside) expected dean to make a deal to bring his brother back to life, but he did. so we have hell rejoicing and we have heaven somewhat placated because their holy father’s scriptures remain true and the order has been restored, at least for the time being.

whatever happens from here until the first seal breaks is not heaven’s business, they’re above petty humanity, and after all, the winchesters are mere instruments to be used once the apocalypse comes.

castiel though, he’s got a crack on his chassis. he’s curious. there’s celebration in heaven but he wants to know the real cause for celebration, he wants to meet this human who saved god’s plan with an act his siblings deem stupid, but he considers rather noble. so he goes to earth, for the first time in many years. his vessel, jimmy novak, a devoted man whose faith came to him as naturally as breathing, accepted castiel willingly and without much questioning.

it’s cas who helps dean defeat azazel instead of john. after all, john is only a human soul, a very tortured one in hell, if alastair’s words from 4.16 can be taken as truthful. he would be in no shape to climb all the way out of hell, not that fast, and especially, he wouldn’t be able to restrain azazel or force him out of his vessel the way he did. also, i just dislike the idea of john “redeeming” himself, it was executed poorly and it is a bit too easy and convenient for him to show up and save the day. [¡¡¡also fuck john winchester!!!.]

so yes, it’s cas who, in his haste to meet thee dean winchester stumbles into the battle and overpowers azazel, giving dean the perfect opportunity to shoot the demon and killing him for good. 

of course dean would be apprehensive of cas, but literally all hell had just broke loose, and if there was a point in time angels -should they exist- would appear on earth, surely that would be one of them, right?

it takes him some time, all of them, to trust cas, who appears every other day, sometimes just once a week, sometimes he stays two whole days. he’s a low profile seraph these days and he’s always diligent. besides, he’s not the most social of angels, so if anybody notices his absence, they’re angelic enough about it not to care. as long as heaven runs smooth, all is well. chuck is entertained and much too comfortable lying low to bother about a rogue angel.

cas tells dean he’s been charged with helping them out, seeing as they helped shut the gates of hell, or any other excuse. he’s not very good lying, but dean buys it. he’s still hopeful , a stranger to the rack and the sulphur of the pit.

inevitably, dean falls in love with cas. it’s quick and unexpected, as if someone hit the back of his head with the full force of it, of cas. it’s also the easiest thing he’s ever done. castiel, this angel... cas... he’s everything dean knows he can’t have, he is all the good dean could never be, he’s touched by god while dean is tainted by the filth of demons, literally. 

he’s never regretted making that deal to save sammy, but he wishes the demon had given him more than a year. most people get 10. a lot could be done in ten years, and maybe cas, maybe he’d still be around. maybe dean would be able to call him his friend, maybe he’d be able to know cas better (because he doesn’t really say much about himself, and always seems so interested in learning more about dean, what he likes, how he feels, why he acts in certain ways, why he likes making cas laugh so much, why he blushes at odd times and why his smile falls when he seems the happiest). or maybe 10 years wouldn’t be enough to make an angel of the lord care about a poor sod like him anyway.

it’s a relationship filled with what ifs and insecurity and fear and passion, because dean is running out of time and he wants to make the most of it, but he’s only a sad excuse of a hunter, and he has to be a good brother and he’s got bobby whom he’s also made miserable with his decision. but there’s also cas... and that... he never, not in a million years, expected cas to appear into his life. he just wants a little more time with him, a little less guilt for wanting this, wanting what...it?, no, him. he’s living on borrowed time so labels, he doesn’t give a shit about. so he goes for it. he kisses cas, and cas kisses him back. and it comes to them just as natural and easy, and it pains dean even more knowing that he could have this, if only his ass wasn’t expected in hell in a few days time. 

but hell doesn’t forgive, and it comes to collect alright. 

cas knows he can’t intervene, he’s still a soldier, with a human weakness, yes. but a soldier nonetheless. still, when the hellhounds  come after dean he tries to save him, only to be stopped by other angels sent to maintain the order. he’s sent to prison during the same 40 years dean is sent to hell, but in heaven time moves even slower, so he ends up waiting longer than that, all the while tortured by his own inability to protect the one thing he cares about, to save dean from the worst of fates. needless to say he feels guity and conflicted.

it comes to him as a surprise when he’s called upon the ranks of the army who’ll retrieve the righteous man from hell. apparently previous campaigns have failed to even locate the asset, so castiel, rebellious as he’s proven to be in the past, is tasked with leading as commander. he knows dean’s soul thoroughly, if anyone can decipher the twists and folds of hell (more intricate version than og) it’s castiel. 

and that he does.

cas is the one to free dean from his agony, the one who throws away the bloody whip dean was flogging another poor soul with, the one who sees dean so broken and mangled, stripped from his kindness, forced into sin and depravity. he hold dean in his arms while the man thrashes, crying and screaming, so unlike himself and yet becoming dean. 

for the first time since he was created, castiel cries. he also kisses dean and the taste is salty, but it feels like paradise despite the brimstone and the howls of anguish that echo in their ears.

cas’ hold is so strong and dean is so raw, naked soul burning up, that the touch leaves a mark that later will show as his handprint seared on dean’s shoulder.

[etoileholland]

wrapped in red | chapter 2; a wonderful Christmastime

word count; 3k

warnings; none

a/n; ah the Christmas dinner scene :) this chapter takes place immediately after where the first one ended, which was right when you met Tom, which is still two years ago (if you read the first chapter you’d know what I mean) anyway here it is!

When the Uber pulled up to Tom’s family home, you noticed how modest it seemed, even though you knew he was famous. You didn’t dare point out that you knew he was a somebody, the poor kid was already stressed out enough, and he should have one day where he doesn’t feel obligated to be “Tom Holland”

He got out of the car first, before jogging over to your side to open the car door for you. He wished the Uber driver a happy Christmas, and then closed the car door.

“Tom,” you turned around to face him, “are you sure your family won’t mind me being here?”

“Trust me, they can’t stand the idea of someone spending Christmas alone.” When you scoffed lightly, he continued talking. “No, seriously. One year, my mum had to make a last minute Tesco run for some cranberry sauce, and when she was waiting in the queue to check out, she started talking to an older woman who told my mum she was spending the holiday alone. When my mum heard that, she invited the woman over for Christmas dinner right on the spot.”

Tom held out his hand, and led you closer to the front door.

“Okay, but that’s seriously dangerous. What if she was a killer?”

“I’m starting to think everyone to you is a murderer until proven otherwise. I think you’ve been watching too much true crime.” He joked. “But if it makes you feel any better, my dad said the same thing.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his first comment. “He has a point.”

“True.” Tom clicked his tongue, “but then on New Years, as a gift to us, the woman gave us our dog Tessa. So it worked out well in the end I suppose.”

“That was nice of her.” You responded as you watched Tom walk up the small steps in front of the door.

“You ready?” He asked you, and even though you were beyond nervous, you gave him a thumbs up.

You stood next to Tom as he knocked on the door. He shifted his weight from his left leg to his right leg, and when nobody answered the door right away, he raised his hand to knock again. Just before he was about to, the door swung wide open.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” A woman, whom you presumed to be Tom’s mother exclaimed. She quickly embraced him, squeezing his torso lovingly. As you watched the display of familial love, you felt a pang of sadness inside you. It quickly dispersed when the woman looked over at you.

“And who is this beautiful angel with you, love?” She asked politely. “I didn’t know you were bringing a guest, actually I didn’t even know you were flying in.” She stretched out her hand for you to shake. “I’m Nikki, Tom’s mum.”

“Y/N.” You answered back, gently shaking her hand.

“Well  come in love.” She stood back and ushered the both of you into the house.

Upon entering the house, the first thing you noticed was how warm and inviting it was inside. From the entryway of the house, you could see into the living room. The fireplace was lit, setting a lovely ambiance to the room, and the Christmas tree in the corner of the room was beautifully decorated. Some jazzy Christmas music was playing from another room, it sounded like Bing Crosby, but nevertheless filled the air with cheer.

Nikki looked at you fondly for a second, and then beamed a smile back at her son. “So, how did you two meet?” She inquired.

“Well, it was serendipitous.” Tom lightly bumped his shoulder with yours, getting a small smile from you. “I bought some presents last minute in Spain while my flight was laid over, and when I finished, I got a text saying that my flight was going to board soon. So I quickly left the mall and made my way back to the airport in the nick of time. But then as I arrived here, I realised the gifts weren’t wrapped, so I looked up gift wrapping places and that’s how I met Y/N.”

You listened as they spoke, and followed them into the dining room. There was someone setting the table, from the looks of it, he also looked around your age.

“That’s so adorable, it’s almost like out of a Hallmark movie.” Nikki commented while she adjusted one of the table settings.

“And then, as I was talking to Y/N, she told me she was going to spend the holiday alone-”

“Oh dear.” Nikki exclaimed as she placed her hand over her heart, nearly dropping the fork off the table she was straightening in the process.

“So I invited her over to dinner.” Tom finished, glancing back over at you.

“I am so happy you invited her,” She looked at her son, “and I’m happy you made it.” She glanced at you, smiling once more. Before anything else could be said, a dog came running up to you and Tom eagerly.

“Tessa, love!” Tom exclaimed, kneeling down to hug her, while also petting her. “Y/N, this is Tessa.”

“She’s adorable.” You commented as Tessa licked the snow off your boots, while she wagged her tail eagerly.

“Tom, son, is that you?” A man who donned an apron popped his head out of the kitchen. When he saw his son, his face lit up.

“Yes dad, it’s me.” Tom stated as he went to hug his father. A few more people emerged from the kitchen, plus a pair of boys who looked similar to each other.

Must be his twin brothers, you thought.

“Love, let me introduce you to everyone.” Nikki placed her hand on your shoulder softly. She proceeded to introduce you to Tom’s father, and his little brothers. As she pointed out who was who, it was nice to put a name to a face.

“And that’s Paddy, our youngest.” She gestured to the young boy with many freckles, the same curly hair as his eldest brother.

“You’re very pretty.” Paddy commented, his cheeks turning red. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Thank you, you too.” You smiled.

One of Tom’s little brother, whom you learned was named Sam, popped back into the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in 10.” He hollered from the room.

“Make yourself comfortable in the living room, love.” Nikki tugged lightly on the sleeve of your jacket, and when you realised she wanted you to take it off, you nodded. Shimmying it off, you gently handed it to her.

You made your way into the living room, which smelled like sugar cookies. They had a beautiful house, no doubt about that, but something about it felt so homey. Yet, it made you remember how cold and clinical your childhood home felt, a thought that you kept trying to suppress.

Out of the corner of your eye, a red bauble on the Christmas tree glistened in the light. You lightly shuffled over to the corner of the room to look at the decoration. On it, was Tom’s name in glittery paint, and the year 2001 painted on it. It looked like one that you made in primary school, the kind that parents loved to receive. Sadly, the same couldn’t be said about your parents, since anytime you brought some artwork home that you lovingly made in school, it was always discarded in the trash.

While you were in the living room, Tom was met with many questions regarding you as he helped Sam in the kitchen.

“She’s pretty.” Sam commented while concentrating on perfecting the Christmas pudding for dessert.

“Yeah, she is.” Tom added, leaning back against the countertop.

“There’s something about her that I really like.” Sam remarked.

“Like what?”

“She seems nice, and down to earth. I think she would be good for you.” Sam spun around to look at Tom.

“True, but I don’t know much about her. She could be in a relationship with someone else for all I know.” Tom crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“If she was in a relationship with someone else, she sure as hell wouldn’t be here.” He wiped his hands on a tea towel. “I know you like her too.”

The corner of Tom’s lip turned up into a small smile. “I do, you’re right. I just don’t want to get my hopes up already.”

Sam knew his brother enough to know that his heart has been broken many a time, and it made sense that he was hesitant to like someone new. However, Sam was blessed with great intuition about people, and so for him to say that he liked you already meant a lot. He walked over to his brother and placed his hand on his shoulder. “She seems really nice, so far mum likes her, and so does Tessa, and you know she’s picky about people. Well, they both are.” He patted his brother's shoulder, taking a step towards the door.

“Dinner’s ready.” Sam stated to his family, and went into the living room. He saw you admiring the Christmas tree, a small tear landing down your cheek. He watched as you wipe it away, and then turned to face him before he said anything.

“Sorry,” you sniffled, “I’m fine.” You answered half convincingly.

“Dinner’s ready.” He said softly, leaving the room. You followed him into the dining room, where everyone else was already sitting. There was a seat open next to Tom, and his mum.

After a prayer, the food was being dished up. There was a roasted turkey, some vegetables, cranberry sauce, roasted potatoes, and of course the Christmas pudding, all of which looked delectable.

As you ate into the turkey, you now knew why Tom loved Sam’s cooking, it was superb.

“Sam, you’re an excellent chef.” You mentioned once you finished chewing.

“Why thank you, Y/N.” He nodded his head to you, and continued to eat.

“So, love, not to sound intrusive-”

“You already do.” Tom muttered under his breath.

“Why were you going to spend Christmas alone?” She asked concernedly.

Everyone looked up from their plates to you, eyes wide in curiosity. You gulped before answering. Even though Tom’s family was more than gracious for having you over for dinner, you still didn’t know them enough to tell them your whole life’s story. And, considering how depressing the truth was, you didn’t want them to think differently of you. So, you decided to tell them a half truth.

“Well,” you gulped, “my parents are out of town.” It wasn’t entirely wrong, but it sure as hell wasn’t entirely right.

“I’m sorry, what for?”

“Mum.” Tom interjected. You looked over at him, noticing that his jaw was a bit clenched.

“Sorry, darling.” She said to you, “it’s just a shame that they would leave you alone on Christmas.”

“Tell me about it.” You muttered under your breath, mindlessly poking at the food on your plate.

The rest of the dinner went along well; it was mostly questions about yourself, the usual ones such as “what are you studying?” and “what’s your favourite artist?” you know, the usual questions. When his family wasn’t asking about you, they were asking Tom questions about how filming went, and how Spain was.

Right before dessert was served, the Christmas crackers were popped. Once people started to read the jokes, you laughed at how bad most of them were.

“I’m not even going to read this one aloud,” Dom commented, “It’s bloody rubbish.”

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad darling.” Nikki replied as she peered over his shoulder to read it. “You weren’t kidding, it’s not even funny.”

“Told you.” Dom dramatically tossed the joke behind him. “Someone hand me a piece of paper and a pen, stat!” 

Once dinner was finally over, and much funnier jokes were written for the crackers, the family made their way into the living room to open their presents. They have a tradition to open the gifts after Christmas dinner, so even though Tom missed most of the day, he made it home in perfect timing to open his gifts.

“Love, I’m sorry that we’re going to open our gifts in front of you.” Dom said with a frown. He looked over at his wife, his eyebrow raising slightly.

“We should probably open our gifts tomorrow, yeah?” Nikki asked the boys collectively, “It’s impolite to open them in front of guests.”

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about that at all.” you reassured his family. “You should open them.”

They all looked at you once more to judge your facial expression, but when you gave them a smile, they began to distribute the gifts.

Gifts were exchanged, to each other, and even though you weren’t part of the family, you felt as though you were.

You saw Harry’s eyes well up with tears when he opened up the camera that Tom bought him, and him immediately snapping pics of everyone and everything.

Tessa loved her little sweater, and Dom and Nikki loved their matching sweaters.

As you sat there on the sofa, hot cocoa mug in hand, you broke out into a smile the whole time, so much in fact that your face hurt from smiling.

So this is what a loving family is like, you thought to yourself.

Shortly soon after, Paddy began to grow tired. He was rubbing his eyes, a yawn escaping his lips every other minute.

“Love, let’s go to sleep.” Nikki helped Paddy stand up. He leaned against her, he was about ready to fall asleep standing up.

“Goodnight Y/N, happy Christmas.” Paddy yawned once more.

“Goodnight little one.”

You watched the young boy and his mum walk towards his room. Looking up at the wall clock that hung near the mantle, it was nearly 10pm. You could’ve swore that the clock was wrong, clearly you haven’t been there for four hours, but once you checked your phone you realised it was indeed 10pm. You were having so much fun that the time got away from you, which wasn’t something you were complaining about. However, you didn’t want to overstay your welcome, so you were about to call an Uber for yourself when Tom offered to drive you home.

Everyone told you goodbye and wished you a happy Christmas, Tom’s mum even kissing you on the cheek.

“Happy Christmas love, thank you for having dinner with us.” She placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “I hope you come spend more time with us soon.”

“I will.” You whispered back, smiling to her. She handed you your coat, helping you put it on even, and watched you and Tom leave to take you back home.

The ride home back to your apartment was quiet, but a comfortable silence. Tom, intently paying attention to the icy road ahead, would often sneak little glances over at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. About 15 minutes later, he had pulled up right in front of your apartment complex. You lived right around the corner from the gift wrapping shop, so you weren’t kidding when you said you literally lived down the way.

“You live in a nice home.” He commented as he opened the car door for you. It was a home on N Audley Street, in Mayfair, which is one of the more expensive places in London to live. Very posh, he thought to himself.

“Thank you.” you kicked a small mound of snow over that had accumulated on the ground by the front step of your porch. “But I’m actually in the process of moving out to a uni apartment. It’s kind of a shame, really. This apartment is worth a small fortune, and I almost feel bad for wanting to sell it, but it’s not the same apartment as I remember, if that makes any sense.”

“No, no. it makes complete sense. Sometimes there’s a lot of memories attached to a particular place.”

You hummed in agreement to what he had just said, glancing over at him once more before making your way to the front steps.

“So, where are you going to Uni at?” Tom asked curiously, doing so as he brushed a bit of snow off his coat.

Without missing a beat, you answered, “Oxford.”

“Wow,” he breathed out, “that is kinda far. I can see why you’re selling the place now.” Tom followed you up the stairs and stood beside you on the stoop. A voice in his head told him to at least give you a kiss on the cheek, but he decided against it as he didn’t want to potentially ruin his chances later on down the road.

It wasn’t until you took a step closer to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek that he began to blush profusely.

“Whoa-”

As if you knew what he was going to say, you pointed up towards the top of the door where a piece of mistletoe hung. “That’s why I did that.”

“Oh.” He answered almost disappointingly, “makes sense.”

Trying to hide the fact that you were flustered after kissing Tom on the cheek, you unlocked your front door and opened it slightly ajar. You placed a hand on the doorknob, and the other on the door itself. “Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied, still beaming from the kiss. He took a step back and headed down the steps towards his car.

You turned around to look at him, noticing how handsome he looked from behind. “Happy Christmas Tom.” You called out to him.

“Happy Christmas to you too.” He smiled, waving as he got into his car. You watched him as he drove off, waiting until he was around the block to go into your own home.

The apartment was dark and nearly empty, with a few boxes piled up near the door. Any other time this would have made you feel depressed, but not tonight. You were still glowing from the wonderful Christmas you spent with Tom and his family. As you made your way inside to get ready for bed, the memories were replayed in your mind. And for the first time in a long time, you could finally understand why Christmas was as adored and cherished as it was.

the third chapter comes out next week! please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in it ❤

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

this may be my latest one (aside from those that never saw the light of day), but sorry life calls sometimes. enjoy the rollercoaster of emotions at the end 😘

Oh Carl, poor Carl. How on earth is he going to survive with Nick? 🤣 Honestly though, Jack so sneaky with her therapy despite being halfway across the globe. I love McGee’s “obviously she thinks you need it Nick” because HAHA nail on the head right there Timmy, he definitely needs it. Needs it to prove to himself a living thing can depend on him and he won’t let it down. 

They clearly still don’t believe in personal space, Nick does NOT need to get that close to look at a simple picture of a body on the camera 👀 broooo you so hooked on her she’s like a magnet pulling you in. Alsooooo them both officially switching to first names even in the field is so key. They might not even realize they’re doing it but at the same time they’re so (relatively) comfortable in their feelings of each other that they’ll say it in front of everyone, no qualms about it. I will also never get tired of hearing Nick call her Ellie. For someone so closed off initially, to now have slowly grown to call her on a first name basis when not a single other soul (sans Toby apparently) gets that sort of treatment 🥺😍 Plus he’s teasing her about food just slightly and it’s like old times again. Ellie getting back into her foodie status is perfect, thank you NCIS for finally giving us that. 

Were back to Carl and I’m chuckling at Nick’s worry for killing it. That is all, it’s hilarious like Gibb’s creepy laugh. 

Ok and now it’s Nick almost making fun of Ellie again, just barely and then he just…listens to her 😩 he just says, oh shit she’s really into this and borderline obsessed and I think that’s actually really f-ing adorable so let me just quietly take this all in because I can’t get enough of this woman and when she’s excitedly rambling about something I’m just going to soak it in because she doesn’t do this often so instead of teasing let me just look, listen and smile like the idiot in love that I am. He’s even kind of holding back a smile when she corrects herself about Kosmic vs Killer Korn. Like goddamn this woman does things to my insides even when she’s just talking about corn and poking me with her finger. Also we’re back to Nick taking a step back and letting Ellie take lead with questioning the food truck people- I love that he respects her so hard that he’ll follow her lead and knows she is a BA with this stuff. 

Some more cute partner stuff as per usual, and I’m sorry Nick do you not have your own computer and desk??? I mean, I don’t mind and I know Ellie doesn’t either but Gould you BE more obvious??? Plus he just nods along when she’s talking because his woman knows what is up y’all and you should listen and bow down. 

Nick calling Fornell, Toby is hilarious to me- such growth. “Emily is finally squared away” FUCK YOU NCIS. FUCK YOU. THE MOST POINTLESS LAZY STORYLINE EVER OKAY. AND I REFUSE TO DIVULGE THIS SHIT MORE BECAUSE IT PISSES ME OFF TOO MUCH. IF THEY DON’T HAVE THIS AS A LARGER PLOTLINE I WILL BE RIOTING. And yes I knew something major was going to happen but good lord that was so unnecessary. I digress. Ellie pondering out loud about Gibbs’ sad personal life and Nick and McGee’s reactions had be ugly cackling. Like dyyyyyyyying. I can’t with her 🤣🤣🤣 she saying what’s everyone is thinking. Nick giving her a little grief is also so perfect for them “yeah you DID say that out loud.”

Ok now to my favorite part, Nick once again following Ellie’s lead and being initially like oh you writing an article ok we’re going with that ok cool. And then Ellie says hold my earrings we getting crazy but at the same time this is rolling off my tongue like I’ve said it a million times and doodled it in cursive in my diary, my HUSBAND and I can help so like you know let us on your truck mister we’re vaccinated anyways. AND NICK I MEAN HIS FACE. The initial surprise of oh no did she *actually* just say that??? Did she??? why yes she did and I’m sorry why do I like the sound of it so much??? What is this bubbling feeling inside my chest of oh damn I would very much like to be her husband and have her babies and have her announce to random strangers on the street that I am hers??? Is this normal? Do I need to call a medic?? Can she say that again is there a reason she would need to? Prove our cover one more time baby, give me a quick kiss, serious it’s for the good of the case. But ok fine no kiss but yeah I’ll roll with this and call you smoothly with your first name and just play into it. I love them both so much in this whole moment. I love them undercover together and just being all cutesy and Ellie’s deepest desires coming out while she’s just you know, investigating the case. 

Ok I am going to completely ignore the reason we are somber in this bullpen in fear of losing my shit again (see above) but we’ll break down the ellick part of it. Nick near her desk because he needs to be by her side even if it’s just her proximity 🥺 And then he takes a long look at Carl before looking at Ellie and man that is poignant even if it seems like just a fish. This living being that he’s been so stressed about keeping alive, realizing he HAS kept it alive. Realizing that he CAN be a person that someone (or a fish) depends on. Realizing he is built for long-term, he is built for the interdependency of a serious relationship. And looking up to Ellie and seeing that need for comfort, for strength, for a person to depend on. He knows her own strength and independence, knows yeah- she could do it on her own if she had to. But he also acknowledges he can be there to help her, he won’t break and he won’t let her down- just like he hasn’t let Carl down. So what does he do? He takes the corn he’d most definitely picked up *before* the news of Emily’s death (and oh good lord is that not the cutest fucking thing? He’d listened to her gush and obsess over Kosmic Korn (and yes if you freeze frame, he got her favorite because he’s observant) and he said, let me take notes, let me get my wife I mean girlfriend I mean partner some corn because it makes her happy, and if I can do even the smallest thing to make her smile goddamnit imma do it. I’m going to show her that any little teasing I give her is for show and I listen and I love this woman enough to go back to Kosmic Korn BY MYSELF—willingly Nick Torres will go back to a food truck—and get this lady some damn corn). But yes he got this before Emily’s death and now not only is it just to make her smile, but it’s a shred of “I hope I can bring you some comfort because otherwise I’m not sure how even though I desperately want to give you comfort.” And Ellie, the small smile of recognition at what Nick did is so sweet. And it morphs into a hesitant, yes corn is great but I really need to feel you, I need to touch you and know you’re still here. Feel you in my arms, feel your chest rise and fall as you breathe me in and I breathe you in. Feel you being alive after all we and this team have been through. McGee might go hug his kids but god I need to hug you Nick. I need to nestle my head even closer to get as physically close to you as possible, feel every inch of your warmth while I wrap my head around how short life truly is. And Nick looking down and stutter slightly at the overwhelming emotion he feels having her in his arms. The peace it brings him and the peace it brings her all-consuming. The realization this is where he was always meant to be and the same to her. How even in a somber moment he’s grateful to be her strength and yet he knows she’s also his strength. That hand that didn’t need to but came up all the same to cradle her head and stroke her hair- holding her head right at his heart. His heart that’s inevitably thumping in his chest for all the right reasons. Pressing her into him, doing everything he can to keep her from shying away and retreating behind those walls they both have. Wrapping his other hand around her upper back, shielding her from the hurt that is the world the best he can. If she never leaves his heart, she can’t be hurt. And he can’t lose her. He’d do anything to never leave that spot, that embrace he so desperately craves and needs. The grounding embrace of finally being in one another’s arms for more than a brief adrenaline-induced second. Neither wanting it to end, and yet knowing it will have to. And honestly I can only picture Nick’s hand still gently brushing her hair as Ellie leans back ever so slightly to look up at him, his warmth still radiating over her as he looks down. Wordlessly they both collect their things to go, never wanting a sound to break that moment. Hands maybe even brushing as they enter the elevator- the unspoken shift between them refusing to be broken if words aren’t muttered. They’re still locked in that embrace if the world stays silent. And that last look of longing at car doors, knowing the moment they step in and drive away it does have to sever- the shift is there but the embrace is split. Both swirling with thoughts as they drive their separate ways home as to where to go next…

Aaaaand then cue a Gibbs-centric episode with trash references to how vets do their job, I’m not bitter. She says as she ruins a sweet emo moment at the end of the wwr with her bitterness 🙄 ANYWAYS I’m gonna leave it with no side notes because honestly I don’t remember any and also it is literally the day of the next episode I’m so terrible at getting this done how do y’all keep waiting for me & reading this trash 😅❤️ 

[nanasparadise]

Happy Hanukkah! Imagine a rom-com situation with any jojo family getting the in-laws upset at a dinner? Please. Hijinks anon please.

Rom-com holiday dinner with the different JoJos (part 1 to 6) fluff x gender-neutral reader

 Happy Hanukkah to you and your loved ones! I hope you enjoy the last remaining days of the holiday <3 I love this suggestion, it’s so cute! I did some headcannons with how the different Jojos and the family of their S/O would behave during dinner. And, since I based the family a bit on my own, expect a loooot of family members (many cousins, siblings, aunts and uncles) :D Have fun reading!

No TW this time!

All the minor characters are aged up (no minor content on my blog!).

 Jonathan Joestar

Usually, he doesn’t make your family upset since he’s such a gentleman. Your family loves him practically more than you!

The Brit always wraps them around his finger with his manners and charisma.

But, during the holiday dinner, even the soft Jonathan made the mistake of being too calm.

Your extended family, such as your aunts and cousins, are a whirlwind and he simply can’t keep up with them!

They are questioning him about the most private details in your marriage, which makes Jonathan blush. You try to intervene, but you are easily overthrown but your numerous family members.

Your aunt keeps shouting about how boring he is and that he should loosen up a bit.

Jonathan doesn’t take the comment personally as he knows that this is just how your family shows their love.

Eventually, your family manages to get the Brit drunk on red wine (he is way too polite to decline their constant refills) and he starts smashing some cheesy karaoke songs with your equally intoxicated aunt and uncle.

You wish to be swallowed by the earth, so big was your embarrassment. But your heart blooms at the sight of your husband, knowing how he is an essential part to your family now.

“Oh really, I shouldn’t drink further…” “Come on, don’t be a killjoy!” “Okay, only one more glass...”

“Look darling, I can totally hit that high note!” (He does not hit it)

Joseph Joestar

Contrary to his grandfather, Joseph is anything but tactful.

He does have the same charming effect as Jonathan though.

Joseph manages to get in fights with your family quite often: his big mouth and sometimes rude manner aren’t always appreciated by them. But he easily manages to smoothen the tensions with his bedazzling grin and oh so charming words.

For the holiday dinner, Joseph has promised you to not incite a fight.

But the promise gets broken, of course.

Your little cousin constantly bickers with him, telling him his scarf looks stupid or making fun about the time he dressed as a woman.

The Brit only has so much patience: so he tells your cousin to get lost.

The boy doesn’t take this too well and runs to your aunt to squeal about the incident.

Your aunt gets angry and confronts Joseph.

You glare at your husband, reminding him about his promise.

He sheepishly rubs his neck and flashes you an apologetic smile.

But in the end, Joseph and your cousin reconcile through arm wrestling.

Joseph lets your cousin win, of course.

You shake your head with a grin sprawled on your face and press a kiss on your husband’s cheek.

“Sorry babe, I guess I lost my cool there, huh?”

“Oh man, I lost!�� “Don’t worry, you’re still my champion.”

Jotaro Kujo

Your family has a hard time warming up with Jotaro.

The stoic man doesn’t let someone in easily and isn’t looking for social contact.

So it’s nearly a miracle that he agreed to come with you to the holiday dinner with your family. You know that he did it for you, since he knows how much your family means to you.

Your husband is silent during the whole dinner and only says the bare minimum when being asked something by one of your family members.

You are aware of Jotaro’s introverted and unbothered nature, but you wish that at least he’d try to be a bit more friendly.

Your family thinks the same as they constantly try to spark some conversation between your spouse and them, which is very difficult, to say the least.

Eventually, Jotaro gives in and engages in your family’s conversation.

Your mother asks a bunch of questions: how is his job as a marine biologist going, if he enjoys the food, when you two will finally get children (they can be adopted or biological)

You nearly choke on your water because of your mother’s personal question.

You stared at Jotaro big-eyed, not knowing how he’d react.

The man clenches his fist, as he does not appreciate these kind of questions, but takes a deep breath. Soon enough, he has calmed himself down.

You quickly change the topic, not wanting that the situation escalates.

To your surprise, the rest of the evening is going rather smoothly.

After you two have said goodbye to your family, he even gives you a necklace as a present.

“The food is delicious, Mrs L/N. As for the children, we’ll have to see what the future holds.”

“This is for you, Y/N.” “But I thought we wouldn’t get gifts! I don’t have anything for you…” “It’s fine. I gave it to you, because I love you and I don’t expect anything in return. Now let’s get home, before I’ll say some more cheesy stuff.”

Josuke Higashikata

Similar to Jonathan, Josuke is quite popular in your family.

He is a sweetheart and a goofball, which is greatly appreciated by them.

Every time your little cousins are down for a prank,  he’ll gladly participate.

This time, during the holiday dinner, it isn’t different.

The kids and the man have decided that it would be a good idea to put some chili powder in your uncle’s (who can’t handle any spice at all) mashed potatoes.

They laugh mischievously as they see how your poor uncle turns red like a tomato and tears are rolling down his cheeks.

Your aunt glares at them, especially at Josuke, and says how a grown man could do this kind of childish nonsense.

Your husband’s eyes widen at the comment: he just wanted to have some fun with your cousins…

Knowing Josuke, you notice his puppy-like sadness. You are aware that for him, your family is his too and that he just wants to make them happy.

You go to your spouse and reassure him with a shoulder pat and a quick peck on the cheek.

His face quickly lightens up at your touch, which makes you laugh.

Your sister consoles him as well as she offers him her piece of cake, which he gladly accepts.

Again, you grin at his innocent joy as he swoons over the extra dessert.

“We’ve really got him kids, now didn’t we?

“This cake is just so delicious and sweet! But nothing can beat your sweetness, Y/N.”

Giorno Giovanna

Your family isn’t entirely convinced by the Italian man yet: they definitely appreciate his calm, polite and confident demeanour, but it also makes him appear distant.

Giorno and your family never get involved in fights, since his self-control is bigger than his ego, but there seems to be some tension between them

For this holiday season, you are determined to break the ice and to show your family the warm and fuzzy side of your husband.

During dinner, you keep talking about all the goofy aspects of Giorno he only shows to you In private, hoping it will make your family grow more fond of him.

Giorno is quite flustered by your stories, a pretty blush forming on his cheeks.

Your family does like this side of your spouse and laughs about your tales of him imitating a slimy Casanova in an Italian rom-com with a thick Italian accent.

Meanwhile, Giorno’s face grows redder and redder: he isn’t used to not being in control of the situation and feels embarrassed.

But on the other hand, he loves how your family reacts to the stories and feels, as if they might finally be able to bond.

Eventually, Giorno, you and your siblings are laughing and joking around while playing a game of cards and drinking wine.

“Please don’t say that, you embarrass me in front of everyone!” “Aw come on, look, they love it!”

“Amore mio, I finally feel like your family and I get along better. You know how much that means to me.”

Jolyne Kujo

The family gatherings are always explosive when this troublemaker is with you.

You know that Jolyne is all bark and no bite when it comes to your family (she would never hurt anyone you love), but you still wish that she would be acting less tough, as you are fully aware of her actual soft core.

Your wife knows that you just want her to get along with your family, but it’s just too hard for her sometimes: growing up without her father and with no strong family bond, she isn’t sure how to act around them.

It doesn’t help that your family keeps thinking of her as a delinquent because of her past.

This holiday, it’s no exception: within the first thirty minutes, your spouse and your family already have started to fight over the most stupid things: why you can’t consider cereals a soup, if there was first the egg or the chicken, why you can’t say that a giraffe is just a mix between a diplodocus, a leopard and a horse (yes, Jolyne could be really creative when she wants to)…

They really are just looking for reasons to piss each other off.

You, on the other hand, just want to get the people you love the most get along.

So you slam your fist on the table.

When all eyes are on you, you shouted that everyone should stop with this childish behaviour, tears building in your eyes.

Jolyne is shocked by your reaction: after all, she has never intended to hurt her spouse and make you cry…

Your family was equally baffled at your statement.

And for once, Jolyne and your family put their differences aside and finally engage in a normal and civilised, almost friendly conversation.

“I know you love them, but they just make my blood boil sometimes!” “Can’t you just try? Please, do it for me…”

“I’m sorry honey, I never wanted to hurt you… from now on, I’ll try my best to get along with them.