#conversations with some people are like pulling teeth and its awful especially when its people i genuinely like being around

[technicolorxsn]

eugh

[jamil-s-wifey]

Hi there fellow Jamil stan! I see your requests are open and I would love to ask for some basketball trio OT3 please. It can be as sfw or nsfw as you want. Honestly I'm just starved for content of this trio and I wanna see these idiots attempting to date each other.

UGH, THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVE REQUESTS. LITERALLY I HADN'T EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THIS SHIP BEFORE, HOW COULD I?! THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS, oH MY GOSHH ❤️❤️ What's better than one disfunctional moron with a strong personality? 3 of them. Gosh the comedy, the romance, the interractions. Yes. This isn't very NSFW, but it has its savoury taste here and there. Overall, I'm not sure what to categorise this as, it went to places I didn't expect it to. However, I really hope you like this, because I HAD A BLAST writing it!

P.S. under the cut for some nsfw-ish elements.

So..............

You chose violence, huh?

This was a relationship that came as a surprise to literally everybody, especially Jamil himself.

It all started when they had a regional basketball tournament, which required them to travel outside of NRC grounds. Jamil was much too stressed over it, of course. Not only did he have to spend 2 whole days with two of the biggest menaces at school, but he also had to leave Kalim to his own devices?! How was that even allowed??

Regardless, the trip was organised and they set off. Truthfully, the three of them had already become fairly accustomed to one another, after all - basketball requires a certain level of sportsmanship (which in Floyd's case depended mostly on his ever-changing mood swings.)

On TOP of it all, Crowley had decided to cram all three of them in one room - something about funding again and his OH SO GRAND generosity!

Needless to say, neither of them was very ecstatic at the prospect. .....However, when night rolled around, the mood in the room was just...different. Ace, Floyd and Jamil found themselves sitting cross-legged in a circle on the floor, talking (and pretty casually and calmly too.) Maybe it was the pre-game jitters, or perhaps some deep-rooted understanding which they had reached unknowingly at some point, but the conversations they were having were... exceptionally nice. Deep even, and they kept getting deeper. Each revealed parts of themselves unknown to the outside world. ...but nothing else happened, right? And they're classmates, and friends, and teammates.

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー

It wasn't until after the game, when the *climax* of their story *came* around .

And it was all Floyd's doing. The win, the adrenaline, the excitement - a recipe for a good time.

A touch here and there, a growl, a moan and then suddenly they were tangled in each other, sweaty and spent, barely fitting on a bed way too small for 3 people.

"So uh- that was something." Ace's voice...or whatever was left of it, rang through the silence. "Fuck, I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow..." Floyd's smile widened, showing sharp teeth which once terrified Ace and Jamil... But unsurprisingly, not anymore.

"Awe, little Crabbyyy~" he teased him, leaning in to bite him on the shoulder, not enough to break skin, but enough to pull a painful yelp out of the boy. "You're just so delicious, I want to eat you riiiight up~"

"I don't want to ruin the idyllic setting, but I think we have to talk this through." Jamil, of course, chose to be the voice of reason in the situation, "This shouldn't happen again." He tried to be as adamant as possible.

Floyd's brows furrowed. "Don't pretend like you didn't like it, you were moani-"

"Shut up."

"Hnnn, you're blushing.~ And you came sooo much~"

"Yeah, dude. Don't act all high and mighty now. I mean- uh. I... wouldn't mind it... happening again." Ace would have crossed his arms....if he had the strength.

"Oh, we're definitely doing this again."

Jamil could only sigh. As much as he wanted to deny it - he wasn't opposed to the idea either. It was the best he'd felt in a long time, amd he could have something of his own, far away from duty and status and-

And so it was settled.

What was supposed to be a friends with benefits type of deal turned....so much more with time. The more time they spent together, the more they learned about each other's quirks - the deeper their bond grew. It was only natural for things to progress into something something more serious. And oh, was it glorious.

Floyd was... eccentric, primitive, nearly unstable, but he was the most passionate, the most emotional, the most affectionate, the most provocative (in every sense of the world.) And he was oh so deliciously physical in his affection. Ace had a boyish charm to him, a carefree take on the world, much unlike Jamil. He brought to the table excitement, unforgettable memories and enough dumb jokes to write a book...or five. Jamil was. unsurprisingly, the one to actually take care of his two feral boyfriends. He was the calm and collected voice of reason, who would make sure nobody ACTUALLY got hurt in any way. And what did he get in return? Unconditional love, the feeling of being on top of the world, a wonderful way to practice his master kink and immense loyalty. Loyalty he would return tenfold.

Now don't get me wrong, this relationship is nothing short of chaotic. It's already bad enough that Ace is part of it, but Floyd too?!

At times Jamil really questioned his decision making skills, but then the very next moment, Ace would come to tell him of whatever shenanigans he'd got involved in, instantly putting a small, barely noticeable smile on his face. And then Floyd - who would always be there for both of them. Who would attack threaten anybody daring to throw a less than savoury look, or GOD FORBID: comment at Jamil. Who'd make sure nobody would lay a finger on Ace, and in return Ace - who was always there to cure Floyd's endless boredom. And both of them were Jamil's means of escape from his tiring daily life.

And maybe it was a bit unorthodox, but neither of them would change it for the world.

Honestly, I'm tempted to write more - like headcanons for different situations in their daily life together and stuff like that, this was WAY too much fun and somehow turned out far more emotional that I originally expected..

[xtinyslip]

“MY BROTHER COULD GO TO ANY ONE OF THE NEWS OUTLETS IN THE CITY! IT WOULDN’T HAVE THE SAME IMPACT AS MINE BECAUSE LETS FACE IT? NO ONE IS AS TALENTED AS ME BUT IT WOULD GET THE SAME MESSAGE ACROSS. MAYBE THATS YOUR PROBLEM. QUIT WORRYING ABOUT EVERYONE ELSES LIFE AND START WORRYING ABOUT YOUR OWN!” cory also had a lot at stake here, he had people counting on him not to fuck this up with finn again. counting on him to make sure his brother didn’t even think of looking their way again. the whole erasing cee from existence ordeal was pretty over the top. yeah, even cory could admit that much and it did make him uncomfortable but she was dead. she was dead and so what the fuck did it matter? harsh, he knew it but true? they really needed to pick their battles with finn and that hardly seemed like the most important one. “she can’t know. she — this could DESTROY her! her bio dad was a complete piece of shit, she already thinks it was on her. i can’t… I won’t let MY awful fucking behaviour impact her!” the thought that tara might think that she had done something wrong? that she could think it and not share it with anyone? that she’d have no one to correct her? NOT HAPPENING. “fine.” sounding aspirated because he was. “fine, I’ll tell finn i want to be of more use but that is going to take TIME. i go in on this too hard, he’s going to know and my whole fucking life is going to be under a microscope. then you’ll have no way of getting anything. NADA.” this all happened to be true but cory was also a great blagger and he’d do anything to give himself time to THINK about how he could get out of this. “um nope? got basically served a no contact order from my brother ; limited access and NEVER alone.” it was as if she had been in prison and sadly, she probably felt like that too. “evernever told me enough…” is that where this let’s make cory feel like an even bigger bag of shit conversation was heading? he didn’t want to know what finn had done. how was that helping any of this? “GOOD PEOPLE? my father was an asshole. no, you know what? i love my mother but they were both assholes. they bought the whole golden boy finn shit and crammed it down everyone’s throats. especially mine. dont act like for a fucking second you knew what it was like growing up in that god forsake house!” hit a nerve? oh, definitely and when he felt parker grab his collar. his body seemed to hit into self defense mode and he found himself, giving parker a harder shove ; simply trying to get him the hell off. even if he knew he didn’t stand a chance against the other, especially when he tightened his grip. “what are you going to do next. uh? got some torture device tucked under your jacket? lucky me!” sarcasm at its finest. “you people? i fucking covered for you. I didn’t tell him where you were during our little chit chats but maybe i should have? DICK! you wanna’ bully? threaten to break bones? pull out teeth? whatever the fuck gets you off? go wild. have at it! but your big shiny problem is with me! ME! don’t involve the kids. they are just that! kids!” @fcdcdmcmories

"BECAUSE YOU'RE STANDING WITH HIM, YOU STUPID SHIT! DO YOU NOT SEE? HE'S ONLY AS POWERFUL AS THE PEOPLE AROUND HIM. AND THIS? ALL OF THIS? YOU? YOU'RE ONLY HELPING HIM! EVERY SINGLE TIME HE COMES HERE FOR A FAVOUR AND YOU DON'T TURN HIM AWAY? YOU'RE ONLY HURTING SOMEONE ELSE AND FUCKING UP THEIR LIFE!" he wanted to shake him. he wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him until he saw just how wrong this was and.. well, even if he told himself to remain calm? it was impossible, because it seemed as if the other was close to making him lose his shit. how had he not punched him? he had absolutely no fucking idea at this point, did he? "nah. your brother once had me in a room trapped for five days and he did things that.. YOU CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO IMAGINE. he still didn't kill me. you know why? because that's not what he wants. not really. before, he wanted to turn me against cecilia and to make me walk away from her and now? he wants to erase every single trace of her from existence, and i'm just in the way." was he an expert on all things finn pederson at this point? yes, he liked to think so. at least? after all that he had been through at the man's hands? perhaps that could be good for something. "excuses, excuses, excuses. don't you ever get tired of making excuses for your fucked up behaviour? i know your kid probably won't. TARA, RIGHT? WHAT DO YOU THINK SHE'LL THINK, WHEN SHE KNOWS HER SO CALLED DAD LET HIS ONLY NIECE DIE AND BEFORE THAT, BE ABUSED FOR NEARLY THIRTY YEARS? i'll end you, you sorry piece of shit. don't think i won't. first, with her and your girlfriend and then? i'll come here and KILL you." he had half a mind to take him away now and to hold him somewhere and to see if finn would lift a hand to help him but then again, he knew that he would not. right? yes. "oh, i am more than interested," that was what he wanted to hear. in fact, he could work with this and if scaring the other shitless meant that he would get them what they needed? he'd do it. "because from now on? YOU'RE GOING TO TURN THOSE MEETINGS INTO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE. YOU'RE GOING TO TELL HIM YOU WANT IN ON THE FAMILY BUSINESS. THAT YOU WANT TO HELP HIM AND THAT.. YOU WANT TO KNOW IT ALL. and what he tells you? you. tell. me. HM?" he could only laugh. consider the urge to punch him straight back. how could he keep on making stupid excuses for himself? did he not see how wrong that was? "oh, i'm sorry. what i'm hearing are more and more excuses. and somehow.. this was her fault? do you have any idea of what she went through? AND HOW FUNNY IS IT THAT.. NOT EVEN A YEAR INTO OUR RELATIONSHIP, I KNEW OF ALL OF IT. i didn't need her to tell me. any fucker with a working pair of eyes would have been able to see something was wrong between them. i knew that i sure did." he grabbed the other's collar and.. how did he hold himself back from punching his face in? he had no idea. it was only the thought of cecilia that managed to calm him the fuck down there and then. "at least you had parents to go home to. doctor phineas and his wife are good people. AT LEAST YOU HAD A HOME. cecilia didn't. she was a little girl, wondering what she did wrong to deserve being treated like that. abandoned by her so called family. she would have given anything to be in your stead. so again.. what i'm hearing are fucking excuses. aren't they?" he tightened his grip on the other's shoulder, shaking his head. "no. we're done when i fucking say we're done. you hear me?" he only smiled. "us. that's all you need to know until we can trust you. and remember... you don't? prove we can? someone pays for it. it's time we start treating you people like you treat US. hm?"

@xtinyslip

[worstghost]

König headcanons part 2 (it turned into sub!könig stuff at the bottom whoops)

♡Along with ADHD, he has severe anxiety, he struggles with connecting to other people. No matter how we'll liked he is, or how good he is at his job, there will always be fear that they're all faking it. That it's some inside joke everyone is in on except for him.

♡He especially feels that way with you at first, and though he doesn't mean to come off as aggressive, he really can't trust that you have good intentions. It takes a long long time for him to believe that you could be friends, let alone lovers.

♡He talks too fast, too loud, when he does. He can't regulate the volume of his voice and though everyone bears with him kindly, he's always embarrassed about it. He has trouble debating whether or not to chime into a conversation and will dwell on it so long that his chance to speak has already passed.

♡In his room alone, he can work himself up so bad that he chews his lips and the inside of his cheeks until they bleed. Or he'll pull his gloves off and bite his nails. If you catch him stressed enough you can see the scratch marks across his forearms from compulsive clawing. He doesn't realize it burns until its too late.

♡König loves being in the field because he knows he's good at what he does, and it helps him feel confident in himself. It's a good release of energy, he gets so excited that for a moment when he sees you he's nearly speaking gibberish his words are so jumbled. You let him speak, you don't dare interrupt when he's so happy.

♡NSFW♡

♡He does have an incredibly high sex drive and he's always a giver, very rarely will he let you return the favor. Being touched for too long will overwhelm him.

♡Some nights though, your favorite nights, he craves nothing but your touch. He'll beg you to kiss him, hold him, wrap your small hand around his throat and ride him. He loves when you're in control (even though you both know you are very much not).

♡Embarrassed of his size, until he catches you ogling him as he strips off his gear. That confidence boost lasts him weeks, and he definitely uses it to his advantage, knowing that you love when he manhandles you.

♡Loves having you on top, whether you're on his thigh, his cock, or his mouth.

♡One time you snapped at him, you had an awful day, you were overwhelmed and just wanted to shower and sleep, he was so clingy.

"König, sit the hell down and give me a second. Please." Your eyes were blazing, and you knew you'd feel guilty later, but you were so frustrated in the moment.

His eyes dropped, he was lightheaded. All of the blood rushed to his cock, you had never snapped at him before. Any other person, any other time, he would be so hurt, so embarrassed. But you, now, hair a mess, sweaty, eyes wide and teeth gritted.

He flopped back onto the bed, swallowing a whimper.

He was so hard it was painful.

You noticed.

"Oh, baby." You sighed and moved toward him, placing your hands on each of his massive thighs.

He fucking whined.

Fuck.

♡You invited him to join you in the shower, letting him wash your hair, he was so gentle, you told him what a good boy he was being for you, and apologized for snapping. He was hard the entire time, flushed red.

♡When you got out he begged you to suck his cock. He only lasted a few minutes, thanking you, the slight trail of tears running down his cheeks.

♡After though, he loves being the big spoon. He wants to feel how small you are next to him, on top of him. He'll run his fingers through your hair and praise you.

[beann-e]

Haikyuu! Characters reacting to their s/o Fighting for them

Also i’m taking request !! go put something in the box :4

Tendou

he would enjoy it so much like he’d have a full on conversation while your doing it. He’d even start hyping you up In the back because he knows that’s all it takes to fuel your fire.

Only for you to find out the person who was hitting on him wasn’t talking about him but was talking about another guy and tendou only made it seem like they were so he could piss you off because he finds it so hot when your upset

Your eyes went pointed to the scene in front of you when you walked down from the bleachers. Feet heavy on the ground as you tried to contain your anger.

How did this chick get down here faster than you and why the hell was she talking to your boyfriend once again faster than you ?

You steps slowed as you walked up to them hoping to hear a little bit of the conversation “ yeah I thought it was really hot and I just wanted to say wow up close and personal y’know “

Your eyes widened hot ?

what the hell did she think was hot ?

“ I was uh I was up in the stands and I was honestly a little bit intimidated to come down here and talk to anyone actually —in the first place “ she laughed clutching her bag a little tighter when your boyfriend licked his lips before his teeth came down to nibble on his bottom one lightly, eyes feigning innocence as he listened to her “ especially you so this is like a big milestone for me “

you watched as your boyfriend smiled softly “ yeah I get it — really i’d be the exact same way with a crush I wouldn’t know how to act or even how to talk to them i’ve actually been there before so “

good good you thought praising tendou in your head at the fact that he was trying to slowly bring up the fact that he had a s/o. clapping for him in your head for trying to let the girl in front of him down easily

your body darting to hide behind a group of teenagers when you saw your boyfriends eyes lift up from the girl and look around as if he was checking for someone he must have been wondering where you were. breathing out a sigh of relief that he turned to look over your way too slowly only missing you by a second

“ oh really I assumed that— “

“ no no your good i’m not saying it in that way “

your face dropped ‘in what way ? ‘

“ I understand the fear of talking to your crush but trust me “ he nodded his head towards the girl In front him before he took a sip of water and smiled down on her “ you’ve got no reason to be nervous i’m right her—“

“ hi “ you waved steps quick on the floor beneath you and voice loud to show your presence “ yes y— yes you do “ you laughed reaching your hand out to shake the girls own in front of you

“ i’m y/n — the s/o— of 3 years —is there ? is there anything wrong did something happen to where he needed an emergency check up or something ? “

the sarcasm in your voice making your boyfriend smirk to himself at the way you just jumped into the situation all to protect your relationship it made him feel secure, happy even

it made him in a way feel greedy

your head coming up to look at tendou as you snaked an arm around his waist like he’d done to you in similar situations. Your other one moving to place itself on his chest “ babe are you ok ? are you hurt ? how badly to call a stranger over here ? “

“ baby no nothing like that she just wanted to congratulate me“ he locked eyes with you the slight smirk he still wore ignored by you due to anger at the drama unfolding before you and his next statement. His words coming out soft and sweet though they were meant to encourage his evil agenda “ before you “

“i’m sorry I wasn’t down here to congratulate him on his win so he must have looked lonely “

you shook your head in sadness at the girl “ and open but “ you smiled “ no he’s not—I understand the confusion you must be going through right now but its just miscommunication from your classmates—which leads me to wonder—please tell me what’s your name ? i’ve never seen you before and I bet your not aware of who I am either so introductions could help both of us out here “

“ oh uh i’m niccolo” the girl shook her head softly and wearily as you pulled back quickly

“ mm niccolo— niccolo “ you spoke rubbing the same hand youd just shook niccolos with down your shirt causing your boyfriend to smile to himself and his eyebrows to raise at all the knowing looks from his teammates about the shit storm he’d just put into motion as he planted a small innocent kiss to your forehead while winking to his teammates behind you

“ never heard of it you must be a first year ? “ your boyfriends head shook slightly as he looked to the floor thinking about how that might have been a little bit rude considering she was just a young girl maybe 16 at most.

His mind rolling with thoughts of maybe cutting the game he was playing short because of her age only for him to side eye you and take a sip from his water bottle again ‘ nah they’ve got it ‘

“ oh y-yes i’m new here—i’ve taken the phrase first year a bit too literal “ she joked smile seeming to be forced her hands twitching in nervousness

“ mm — I never would’ve thought “ you spoke sarcastically. Almost every first year knew not to talk to tendou after a game not unless you were down there already.

The both of you had established that as soon as the game is over your the only person who gets to say congratulations to him first since he explained that it means more to him to know that you’ll always be there no matter what he does

no matter if he wins or loses he’ll get to walk off that court and the first thing he sees is the person he loves most with their hands out waiting for a hug. he’s told you that in the moment he wants to feel like your the only one watching because it’s a private game played for you because he believes your so lucky to get to see your smoking hot boyfriend do blocks.

“ oh thank you no ones ever told me that I look older before may I ask why you thin— “

“ because your dum— “

“ haha um “ tendou stretched before speaking again “ because your just really pretty for a first year “ your body went rigid you almost felt like you couldn’t feel anything not even the heat that was radiating off your body

“ aw thank you so much that means a lot y/n was it? “ she smiled genuinely before laughing “ tendous so nice i’m really glad I came down here first before y’know all the fangirls came down “

she shook her head “ y’know I actually got scared because I thought you were one — I was like ahhhh here comes one of those scary stalker girls “ she laughed “ tendou was telling me not to be afraid since he knew you but I was telling him to be careful when talking to people like you —- once again I thought you were a fan girl so I mean you can’t blame me right?”

Yeah she was screwed this had went too far he was too late

“ y/n “ his voice was warning but you waved him off listening to the girl in front of you her voice sounding so confident and honest believing in everything she was saying. Voice pouring through and mouth still moving almost as if she had no filter

she looked to her feet “I doubt any of them would even have a chance with tendou though because— “

your body roared as she explained her reasoning.

You were only feeling this angry at her words because not only did she call you a tendou fangirl but she explained that even if you were one you would have no chance with him even though that’s actually how you two started dating.

Then for her to turn around and rub it in your face how she got downstairs before you oh god you were gonna have a field day with this little twerp if you didn’t find a way to put her in her place respectfully

“ hey um tendou do you think me and my fellow fan girl here can have some alone time just a small chat “

“ oh wow i’ve never had one of those before “ she smiled as tendou stood still wondering if he’d done the right thing by encouraging all of this or if he should just drop it or maybe even sit down and enjoy it

looking down at you cautiously a slight smirk on his face thinking about your face when he would get the chance to you the truth of the situation but only for it to drop as the girl across from him stole his attention away from you causing him to perk up a bit honestly surprised that she spoke again

Was she suicidal or ?

“ I think he may not be leaving because he isn’t comfortable with you yet—he told me earlier that we could be best friends so , he may listen to me more “ she smiled “ tendou I wanna talk to um —y/n so could you maybe give us some time alone —“ her smiling wider almost as if happy to call him her friend —before speaking “ I wanted to help you out “

‘ holy shit she’s testing my patience’

tendous loud laugh ripped through the gym as he grabbed goshiki and turned the both of them around to walk off words heavy and holding meaning “ yeah I know em’ —I know em’ real well physically and mentally trust me your going to have a bestie number two soon enough “

you watched as your boyfriend went to sit on the bench talking softly with goshiki as he put his hands in his pants pockets not paying attention to you two anymore

“ so wha— “

“ look “ you smiled “ i’m gonna be real sweet about this so we can tie this up in a neat little bow “ you pointed towards tendou

“ ‘m not a fan anymore he’s my boyfriend — we’ve been dating for 3 years now ever since we were first years. I met him through a fan club because he saw the art I drew for their game posters and enjoyed it. I told him I liked how passionate he was about something and how he had his own thing and did it in his own unique way that worked for him and then boom we ended up getting closer—closer then need be sometimes “

you sighed as you moved to close the conversation out “ look just please — I understand your a first year you may not know and that’s ok but ; me and my boyfriend like for me to be the first one who gives him a congratulations at the end of a match he never talks to anyone except his team until I do it — he says it’s like reassurance tht he’s doing good he’s had some stuff happen in the past that just — he needs praise and reminders that he’s doing good with his sport and I supply that he doesn’t want it from anyone else and I don’t want anyone else to give it “

you looked to the girl with sympathy in your eyes hoping you didn’t hurt her feelings she really was just a young kid “ it’s ok to have a crush I had one we all do at a point in our lives but right now your hitting on someone in a secure relationship ok ? start asking first please just to be safe in your future years “

her eyes went wide as she moved to speak “ mm I guess I was wrong “

you shook your head “ wrong ? excuse me for not understanding but wrong how“

“ I uh I assumed you weren’t one of those fan girls and I was wrong I did not mean to get in between your weird obsession just please do not harm him or anything like you guys tend to do “

your body blazed eyes lit up in a hard stare at everyone who now turned to face you hearing the girls loud words

“ again with the fan shit “

“ that is what you guys are called I will not call you his s/o if he does not know you “

“ HES MY BOYFRIEND YOU ASSHOLE “

“ wh— “

“ I tried to be nice to you but your not accepting it it’s like you want me to scream at you “

“ yeah babe she totally does “ tendous smile spreading slowly across his face at the way your hips moved to work with your mouth in showing off your evident pissed off mood

“ I know “ you screamed “ she just wants to make this harder for me “

“ duh “ his tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip eyes falling down to your hands that were clenched so tightly in anger waving around widely your pissed off expression sending heat traveling across his body

“ you have a child’s crush on him and I keep telling you I don’t mind but I explained to you to just be respectful and then you go and disrespect me again“

“ they are very lenient when it comes to crushes on me “

“ thank you baby —I try not to be rude because I myself was once a fan in a club for the team so trust me I understand but everyone is usually respectful I don’t understand how you “

“ she’s just a first year babe you have to explain it to her more “ he smiled thinking up a new way to see how far you would go for him “ like in depth “

“ I DID “

“ no baby you gotta get rough with her “

you turned with your eyebrows furrowed “ like fight “

he smirked at you body shaking at the way you whimpered out the words but moved to put your hair up anyways yet, again putting him first and your cloudy anger ridden mind second

god you were so hot whenever you showed everyone you’d do anything for him “ fuck — yeah baby your doing the right thing —don’t think about it too much “

you shook your head softly as you battled through it in your head tendou always knew how to get a rise out of you and how to make you do what he wanted you to more so for fun.

It didn’t take much for you to listen to him especially when you couldn’t think clearly because he was the only person there who cared for you and anything he did you knew would only be for his own entertainment purposes he’d never have you do anything bad or that put your safety at risk.

when you were angry —and had someone hyping you up and adding fuel onto the fire it was only 10x worse and tendou knew this

“ here y/n baby—let’s take this outside I don’t want you to get hurt by fighting in here come on you can do it out there “

“ tendou you asshole quit encouraging this shit“ semi whispered

“ I do not understand what is going on —i find myself with a loss of knowledge in this situation but I do feel as though tendou is in the wrong it is only a gut feeling “

the girl in front of you trembled at ushijimas voice—before looking to goshiki who held wide eyes as he waved to the girl hesitantly her eyes darting away and back to him eyebrows coming together as she looked around the gym embarrassed “ but he — he didn’t say anything about you—I didn’t know he didnt tell me “

“ wh—what babe — liar I call liar she’s lying baby — pleas— ow “

your head finally clearing up as you listened to his team talk about how much of a prick he was you reaching out and grabbing the top of his ear and bringing it down to your height while he screamed out in pain “ BECAUSE HES AN ASSHOLE “

“ hey baby I’m sorry i’m sorry but that’s — thats “ his hair went down to cover his face as he looked at you “ thats not cool “

“ I — I didn’t know “

“ but I told you twice “

“ and I — I haven’t had the best experienc— “ her bottom lip trembled before she took off crying when she met the young boys eyes behind her.

Goshiki shaking softly eyes lit up in confusion before he shook his head and pulled himself away from the embarrassing situation to run after her your boyfriend moving to wrap his arms around your waist from the back “ your so hot “

“ but I “

“ you were wrong though so I see looks don’t always pair up with smarts “

“ huh “

“ she wasn’t hitting on me “

“ but she “

“ she has a crush on goshiki this is her first time attending a volley’ game and she accidentally came down the wrong way so it landed her down here faster than everyone else”

your body stiffened “ she only ended up talking to me because I was going into the hallway towards the locker rooms when she for some reason was coming down the opposite way crying to me about how she was lost “

“ then you — you two were talking abo— “

“ she’s a bit fragile —- and she was explaining it and I saw how we were the same because she’s had a hard past too so she’s a bit wary around others—and hates confrontation due to drama at ‘er old school and she doesn’t know much of the people here because she’s a first year also she doesn’t talk much which kinda threw me off when she started having full conversations with you and trying her best to connect with you“ he shrugged “ must’ve thought you were cool —wanted to be your friend or some shit”

he smiled proudly at the fact that you could make people other than himself feel that comfortable around you him peppering kisses all around your face “ she was telling me how she thought goshiki was hot and when I brought up that I was his amazingly beautiful senpai she just wanted me to introduce her to him — she said she’s afraid of people and fangirls because she hasn’t had the best experiences with them she explained one time in middle school she got a bento box thrown at her because a guy from the volleyball team said hi to her “

your body immediately dropped “ you knew her whole life story and then some and let me embarrass myself “

“ well honestly you both did you just a bit more than her “

oikawa

he would praise you so much the whole time. He has fangirls and he loves when you show him why your more important than them. he loves for you to stop him and put them in their place while showing him his own.

He knows it’s not right to flirt with other girls but the excitement and pure happiness he gets when he watches you fight for him with such passion similar to his own for volley he loves it

“ oikawa ~~” A small voice called out before tucking a strand of hair behind their ear “ can we maybe get some photos ? “

holy shit it’s like everyday at this point

“ baby can I ? “

“ just go “ his eyes darted to the group before he looked back at you “ really —swear i’ll be right behind you pretty boy “

He smiled before running off to the group grabbing the pen someone held out for him and writing all over the billions of notepads girls waved in front of his face.

You knew it looked wrong for him to have a s/o and still entertain other girls or guys for that matter but, you knew oikawa. You knew exactly how he felt about them it wasn’t that he was interested or liked them it was that he liked their comments

he liked the attention.

He was someone who needed constant praise to feel like he was doing his best. Hearing all the cheers , all of the shouts of his name, seeing the signs and people that would come to games specifically for him only made him feel like he was human like he was real and talented—appreciated

You would never take that away from him you could never, when you two started dating you explained to him you knew how important his fans were to him and as long as he kept a certain line that couldn’t be crossed— that he would always come back to you. Everything would be ok.

You slowly walked up behind him leaving space for people to have a hard time differentiating if you were apart of the crowd or with him but you were still close enough to hear the whispers of how hot he was and honestly he was.

He had the muscles—the beautifully glowing skin that others around you two dreamed of and to put a topping on the cake he was still sporting his ruffled hair from his earlier game. He was your dream man and you were lucky to even be able to stare at him behind closed doors or at least that’s what he told you whenever you walked into his room.

“ oikawa-san “

“hmm “ he spoke staring down on the girl that reached out to grab his arm as he was turning to leave

“ could I talk to you please “

his eyes darted to find yours locking on them when he finally found them. His mouth now moving to mouth a question as you shook your head lightly you’d give him five more minutes he deserved it and you wanted him to feel like he’d done a good job at his game today ,which he really did do, him only going back to the girl in front of you two

“ oh well I really wanna — i’m supposed to —“ he sighed out before he collected himself “ I want to take my s/o home before it gets too late I don’t want them walking alone at night “

“ oh s/o “ her voice dropped as he shook his head up and down “ correct of 2 years “

“ oh my um congratulations— to many more to many more with many more “ she rushed out quickly reaching in her backpack

“ thank you our anniver— “

“ could we get a picture “

he sighed before his smile spread only growing into a fake one lips going tight on his face “ yes of course just one i’d like to get on the ro— “

His breathing stopped as he felt the girl next to him lay her lips on his. The click of the camera making his eyes go wide as he shook. Oikawa to most wasnt one who was as submissive as he was with you. He was a bit more ‘ manly ‘ to other people but around you he always fell into submission especially when he knew he fucked up

His eyes slowly moved to find yours that flaming as you stared down the girl in front of him . You leaning against the wall only making him feel a shiver move down his spine.

Had he fucked up that badly that you weren’t even moving.

He kept looking between you and the girl in front of him eyes trying to convey his thoughts as they screamed

‘ look y/n she’s still talking to me — at this point she’s fucking with me not the other way around ‘

His mind went blank as you walked over your face made up into a stoic one voice coming out monotoned devoid of annoyance or any feeling at all “ your lips must be magnets or some shit“

“ excuse me “

“ oh no it’s just that Insee you’ve put your lips on my boyfriend“ your eyes creased at the girl before looking up and down in curiosity “ so I was just wondering if your big mouth was hiding a magnet or something — anything really to explain why you would put your dirty ass mouth on my rather pristine boyfriend “

Pristine ? his body went upright standing a bit taller ‘ hell yeah i’m pristine keep em coming babe ‘

“ are you not going to apologize ? “

“ I uh “ her eyes went up into sadness and fear as the courage that once swirled through her left upon seeing your emotionless stare. She’d just kissed your boyfriend and you looked like you were walking dogs or doing an everyday house chore “ i’m sor—sorry “

“ oh not to me “ you let out a small head nod over to oikawa “ I meant him “

“ oh oh um yes “ she coughed before she made eye contact with oikawa whos eyes were creasing as he stared down on the frail girl before him

“ i’m sorry “

“ no go on take your time “

“ i apologize that “

“ really I know it’s hard to apologize to someone as pristine as me“ your boyfriend moved to nudge you softly “ isn’t that right y/n“ he spoke as he tried and failed to wink down at you

“ uh yeah babe um “ you shook your head as your eyebrows furrowed before you returned to your earlier self “ wait what oikawa stop playing and fix this shit “

“ oh uh “ he straightened himself up at your words “ what were you suppose to be saying again “

“ oh I just wanted to um “ she turned to make eye contact with you before jumping a bit and turning away squeaking out her words “ i’m sorry for hitting on you knowing that you had a s/o “

“ oh ok that’s it? ” his body sulked as he looked to the floor

“ that’s it ? — you don’t care that she hit on you asshole“ you slapping his arm harshly before he whimpered at the contact

“ what’s wrong baby “ your hand came up to rub his back and arm while he pouted turning away from the both of you

“ I just wanted her to she was sorry “

“ ‘kawa she did we can go home now “

“ no she didn’t say it the way I wanted her to “

your hands fell from him as you let out a huff of air before turning to the girl in front of you and moving to whisper in her ear as she sat confused unmoving In her spot before smiling softly and speaking uncomfortably and regretting her decision to ask the male out

“ oikawa “ she coughed his eyes looking over at her while still holding up his dramatic show “ I just wanted to say i’m sorry for hitting on your s/o’s “

Her eyebrows furrowed before she looked to you who was mouthing the words and shaking her head in an ok motion “ pretty boy —“ he perked up at the words “I will never hit on someone of your elegantly pure , flawlessly clean , stature ever again “

Yes he made her embarrass herself by asking for more kind uplifting words more so to make himself feel better than for you. All the while he enjoyed the praise he received from not only the person he loved but the person he didn’t.

[spacexcowgirl]

All About The Chase - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N will do anything for her best friend—and crush—Fred Weasley. Even if that means fake dating him so he can catch the eye of her cousin.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Light swearing, one allusion to sex (blink and you’ll miss it), brief mention of intoxication (again, blink and you’ll miss it), super mean awful cousin, food, a little angsty with a happy ending, 

A/N: For the anon who asked for Fred fake dating his friend to make her relative jealous! I decided to make her the twins age, and I may have went a little overboard with the cousin rivalry, but oh well. Thank you for feeding into my love of cliches! Also, I played around with using third person rather than second, it just felt right for this one. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

When Y/N was six years old, her parents—well, Santa—got her the most amazing art set. She had always liked to draw, and now she had an array of more colors than she could even really name. When her family was set to head to her Aunt’s house for Christmas dinner, she packed up all of her new markers, a stack of fresh paper, and a few of her drawings she was most proud of to show off.

The night had started wonderfully. She got a few more gifts from her grandparents, a beautiful doll from her aunt and uncle, and enough sweets and candy to last her months. When it was time to finally eat, Y/N left all of her new toys and her cherished art set in her relatives’ living room. Y/N doesn’t remember much about the dinner—why should she? It was a decade prior—but what she does remember vividly is the excitement that bubbled up in her tiny body when her mother suggested she go grab some of her artwork to show off.

Y/N slid out of her chair and raced into the living room. Only when she got there did she find all of her finished art completely destroyed, covered in scribbles from her new markers. Her brows had furrowed and her eyes welled with tears, and that’s when she heard it. The sinister little cackle of her cousin, Annalise. Y/N turned on her heels and saw the girl, uncapped marker in hand, looking at her as if she was the most pitiful thing in the world.

Y/N returned to dinner empty handed, claiming she had forgotten the drawings at home—even though her parents were certain she hadn’t. Annalise returned with an innocent smile and a portrait of their Nan in hand—one Y/N was certain she just made with her markers—and all of the adults cooed and awed at the small girl’s talent.

A few years later, Y/N was set to star in their primary school’s theater production. Looking back, she now recognized that her landing that part had little to do with any real talents she had, and more to do with how adults always seemed to fawn over her. She was always revered as ‘just the cutest little thing!’ Which evidently preceded talent at the ripe age of eight.

Right before she was set to go on stage and deliver her three lines (that’s all a star can really handle so young, right?), she found her angel wings shredded and her halo headband bent in half. The teacher didn’t have any time to fix her costume, so in a fluster she threw out her part all together, and sent Y/N to stand with the rest of the year 3 ensemble. It didn’t take long for Y/N to catch Annalise’s eye amongst the other students, only she was smirking. Y/N had to force her eyes back out onto the crowd and desperately search for her parents to keep herself from bawling on the spot.

As if things couldn’t get any worse between the pair of cousins, when Y/N was ten, her and her parents were astonished to find a letter tucked into their usual mail, accepting her into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter gave an answer to the many strange things Y/N had been able to make happen with her emotions alone, and her chest swelled with pride to learn just how special she truly was. Not to mention, this was finally her opportunity to escape Annalise once and for all.

Until, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t know that Annalise was a witch as well until the two families spotted each other on the platform, preparing to send both of their daughters off. Neither parents had revealed the truths of their daughters abilities to the other prior, because they knew it must be kept with the upmost secrecy. Y/N’s parents and Annalise’s parents were overjoyed to know their little girls wouldn’t be all alone, and they had someone to share their apprehensions with. Y/N and Annalise were far less enthused by the news.

A little over five years later, Y/N sat in the Gryffindor Common room, rifling through beginning of the year work that had already been assigned. In the half-decade since she’d started at Hogwarts, she had managed to avoid Annalise as best she could. It turned out to be somewhat easy, seeing as they were sorted into different house. Still, whenever Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were forced into classes together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel dread pooling in her stomach. Annalise was always sure to make those classes a living hell for her.

Y/N’s attention was pulled from her work from the sound of a small group of people bounding into the common room. She glanced back over the couch, only to see her best friends—Fred and George—laughing and pushing each other around.

“She totally wants me!” Fred argued, a cocky grin alit on his face.

“Oh, please, she hates your guts, mate.” George teased back.

Fred looked as if he were about to respond, until his eyes met Y/N’s across the room. A more genuine smile found its way onto his face as he tugged his brother towards the couch, then plopped down next to her. George then took a seat in one of the chairs across from them. Y/N neatly gathered her work into a pile, knowing for certain there was no way she would make any progress with them around.

“Y/N, will you please tell my dear brother that your cousin is absolutely mad for me, she just has a different way of showing it?” Fred threw his arm lazily around the back of the couch, right behind her, as he looked at her expectantly.

Y/N couldn’t help the sour mood that the conversation immediately put her in. There was two reasons for this; one, the most obvious, any topic that involved Annalise always brought her down. She couldn’t help it, and she tried not to hate the girl, but everything about her was draining. The second reason was that Y/N was absolutely head over heels for Fred. She had been ever since he pranked Graham Montague for making her cry in third year. The idea of Fred and Annalise together was truly the epitome of her worst nightmare.

“I don’t know, she might really just hate you.” Y/N shrugged, doing her best to keep her voice even and her face straight. Her words caused Fred to scowl and George to erupt into fits of laughter.

“Oh come on, not you too!” Fred whined as he threw his head back. 

“What do you even see in her anyways?” Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to the question, but she couldn’t help but ask it. 

“Well, she’s quite fit.” This answer earned a swift slap to the arm from Y/N, which only made Fred snicker. “And!” He continued, persistent to point out that looks weren’t all he cared about. “She’s feisty, and smart. And, she acts completely not interested in me.”

“So that’s why you like her?” Y/N snorted.

“Ah, dearest Y/N, one day you’ll learn that it’s all about the chase.” Fred began to twiddle some of her hair between his fingers.

“There’s plenty of girls who aren’t interested in you! You could ‘chase’ any of them.” Y/N reasoned, batting his hand away.

“You’ve got that right.” George snorted, causing his brother to shoot him a glare.

“Well, even if that were true, I’ve got my sights set on her.” Fred shrugged.

“Well, if you really want Annalise to go out with you, you should just date me.” Y/N teased as she sat forward, beginning to pluck through her papers once again. When no one laughed or responded, she quickly shot her eyes up. “I’m only kidding.”

“No, no that could work.” Fred sat up abruptly and pointed a finger towards her. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’m really not.” Y/N shook her head quickly. “That might breach the list of dumbest things I’ve ever said.”

“Yeah, right, don’t forget we’ve been around you drunk, Y/L/N. That doesn’t even make the top ten.” George grinned at her, but her nerves kept her from even smiling at his little joke.

Y/N was growing desperate now, because neither of the twins were brushing off her silly joke. Fred was looking at her as if she just handed him the key to solve all of his problems, and George was doing nothing to tame his brother. Y/N glanced expectantly between the two of them as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Come on, what better way to make her jealous than to see me dating her cousin?”

Y/N had mentioned on occasion the way that Annalise always had to ruin everything for her as a child, but never in full detail. Some part of her knew if she had just been transparent about how truly awful the girl had treated her, Fred would never give Annalise a second glance. But now, he thought they were nothing more than cousins with a small childhood rivalry, and for that he could justify going after her.

“Please, Y/N,” Fred got down on his knees in front of her, dawning his best puppy dog eyes, and put his hands in a pleading gesture. “Be my fake girlfriend for a month—two, tops.”

Y/N chewed harder on her bottom lip as she gazed at him, already feeling her reluctance slipping away. She could never say no to him, especially when he looked so adorable. Y/n breathed out a sigh and dropped her head to look at her folded hands in her lap. All thoughts of self preservation and protecting her heart went out the door; she knew she would say yes to him.

“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, so much so that it took Fred a second to make sure he had heard her properly. 

“Really? Just like that? I was about to start bribing you with sugar quills and a month of Herbology homework—”

“Well, if you’re offering—”

“Nope, too late. You agreed before I had to.” Fred grinned at the girl before swooping in and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Now, let’s set up some ground rules.”

Fred began to drone on about what they would and wouldn’t do. Things like holding hands in the corridors, sitting close at meals, kisses on the cheeks and forehead. Which pet names they would and wouldn’t use. Number one, though, was no kissing on the lips. 

Y/N only listened halfheartedly as Fred rambled on, offering a slight head nod ever now and then to show she was in agreement. As Y/N thought over just what she had gotten herself into, she realized the next few weeks were going to be awful.

-

It didn’t take long for rumors of Fred and Y/N’s budding romance to swirl. She often found herself walking hand in hand with him through the corridors, light whispers trailing behind them. Often times, people she had hardly ever spoken to would come up to her and gush about how they always just knew Fred and her would be perfect together. Y/N would always politely smile, then wonder if they could hear her heartbreaking as loudly as she could.

To make matters worse, Fred was the perfect ‘boyfriend.’ Just as she always assumed he would be. He’d carry her books in one arm, swing their intertwined hands with the other, and walk her to each of her classes. At night, he’d sit with her in the library while she poured over her notes for the day—even though she knew he wanted nothing more than to be out pranking with George and Lee. She adored all of the extra time they were getting to spend together, until she’d remember that it was only temporary, and if he were lucky, he’d be doing all of these things with Annalise in a month.

It wasn’t until about three weeks into their agreement that Annalise approached her. Fred had walked her to potions that day, like he always did. He was making her laugh loudly, not caring at all about the many eyes upon them.

“It’s a wonder your mum didn’t ship you and George off when you were toddlers,” Y/n snorted. “It sounds like you two were menaces.”

“Oh, we were.” Fred nodded, a small grin on his face. “But I reckon we were the cutest babies she had so far, so she kept us around.”

Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes before nudging him lightly with her shoulder. They had finally made it to the potions classroom, so it was time for them to part. Fred handed her back her books and dropped her hand, but didn’t walk away until he had placed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Meet you outside of here after to walk to lunch?” He confirmed, but there was no need. It was the routine they had fallen into.

“Mhm.” Y/N gazed up at him, unable to contain the giddy smile on her lips. With that, he turned and began walking down the hallway, but not before shooting her a wink over his shoulder.

Y/N watched his retreating figure, a lovesick grin plastered to her face. Just when she had pulled herself from her daydreams and was about to enter the classroom, she ran hard into a firmly planted body.

“So, you and Weasley are pretty serious then, huh?” Annalise stood with her hands on her hips, a look that read as both disgust and amusement riddled on her face.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Y/N quickly recovered, hugging her books closer to her chest. This year, she had more classes with Annalise than any year prior, seeing as they both received a significant amount of O.W.L.s.

“Hm.” Annalise’s eyes trailed down the hallway where Fred had once been, before letting them snap back to Y/N. “Don’t know how you managed that.”

Y/N felt her blood run cold, but couldn’t find the energy within her to talk any further. So, she simply brushed past Annalise and into the classroom, ignoring the scoff that left Annalise’s lips when she pushed her out of the way. Y/N found her usual seat in the back and trained her eyes ahead, careful to keep her expression calm. That was, until Annalise slid into the seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” Y/N gaped at her. It wasn’t like they had assigned seats, but Y/N had always sat next to Patricia Stimpson. The girl was constantly fussing and nervous, always afraid to make a wrong move, but she certainly wasn’t the worst person Y/N could be stuck with.

“Asked Stimpson to trade seats.” Annalise shrugged nonchalantly, before a wicked grin grew on her face. “Figured we could get some good, cousin, bonding time.”

Y/N wanted to groan, but then Snape was gliding into the room and silencing everyone. She was certain this would be the longest lecture of her life.

-

When the class ended, Y/N didn’t wait for Fred outside. Instead, she had pushed up from her seat and hurried through the corridors, skipping lunch entirely to go wallow in her dorm room. Annalise had made the lecture a living hell, whether it be from snide comments she’d whisper over or by purposefully ruining their potion, then blaming it on Y/N. Internally, she cursed Fred—although it wasn’t really his fault—for putting her in the position to be in Annalise’s line of fire once again.

Y/N ended up avoiding Fred the rest of the day, scurrying between classes before he could find her. When she was finally done for the day, she wanted nothing more than to hide out in her dorm and cry. That’s exactly what she had started doing, too, before her door creeped open.

Y/N held her breath, assuming it was either Angelina or Alicia coming back before dinner. But, when her mattress dipped slightly from the weight of someone sitting down, she quickly spun around, coming face to face with Fred.

“Darling,” He cooed. It was a nickname he had taken to calling her ever since they started ‘dating,’ although no one was around now, and he was still using it. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“How’d you get in here?” Y/N croaked, avoiding his question entirely.

“Figured out how to get past the charm ages ago.” Fred rested a gentle hand on her knee. “Then, Ang gave me her key. Said she saw you run up her. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? And why’ve you been avoiding me all day?”

At that, Y/N lost it once again. Tears began streaming down her face freely, and she quickly sat up and accepted Fred’s opened arms. He raked his fingers through her messy hair and let her cry on his shoulder, gently soothing her to a place where she’d be able to speak.

“It’s just…” It was on the tip of her tongue. Y/N wanted desperately to tell him the truth about how awful Annalise truly was. But, just like when she was younger and never ratted Annalise out, she just couldn’t now. She didn’t know why it was, but it always felt like if she spoke the words out loud, then Annalise had won. “I’ve just had an awful day.”

“Snape will do that to you.” Fred tutted, clearly assuming her change in behavior post-potions was brought on by the professor. “I’m sorry, love.”

Y/N sniffled a few more times into his shoulder, wishing desperately that he was holding her in a way that wasn’t platonic. She craved nothing more than for him to want her like she’d always wanted him. But that seemed to be just a fantasy. The muggle fairytales she had been told growing up weren’t real, and the wicked witch was winning.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, get some fresh air?” Fred pulled back to look over her face, concern filled in his eyes. 

“But, you’re missing dinner…” 

“Eh, the house elves love me. I’ll just sneak down to the kitchens and grab something later.” Fred shrugged, a small smile now growing on his face. “You and me, we can make a whole night of it. I’ll sneak some snacks up and we can watch one of those old muggle movies you love so much.”

While Y/N was far from being completely okay, the tenderness he was exhibiting towards her made her heart swell. She knew he had plans with George and Lee that night, some big prank on a few Slytherins, but here he was, throwing it all away for her. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing a few stray tears away with his thumb. Y/N avoided his eyes, afraid that they would communicate all of the non-platonic love she felt for him, then nodded.

“Perfect.” Fred grinned before jumping up and extended his hand out to her. “Well, let’s go.”

Fred guided her the whole way out of the castle, keeping her close as they walked through the grounds. The autumn air was cool, and at the very second that Y/N shivered, Fred was wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. 

They walked around and talked for a little over an hour, giddy smiles on their faces all the while. Fred made her laugh so hard she abandoned all thoughts of Annalise, her mind completely filled with the tall red head beside her. He just had this way about him that could make anything that was possibly wrong seem miniscule. He reminded her of everything good in the world.

Once the sun was fully down and the temperature had dropped significantly, the two could no longer justify being outside in the cold. Fred made a show of wrapping her hands in his own, rubbing them together to bring her some warmth, before guiding her back to the castle.

They parted ways shortly, just so Fred could sneak into the kitchens and Y/N could get the movie set up in the common room. She laid out a few blankets and pillows then pushed the couch back a bit, thankful that it was a Wednesday night and most students seemed to have already gone to bed. When Fred returned, he handed Y/N a plate of food then sat down cross-legged beside her, balancing his own plate in his lap.

Y/N started the movie and dug into her food, giggling lightly at Fred’s ravenous way of eating. He had certainly been hungry earlier, but she needed him, so evidently he pushed his hunger aside. When their plates were finished, they stacked them neatly on the table behind them, before completely turning their attention to the movie.

“Okay, wait, who’s the green girl again?” Fred questioned as he pointed towards the screen, brows furrowed.

“If you would pay attention, you would know.” Y/N giggled. “She’s the Wicked Witch of The West.”

“She’s supposed to be a witch?” Fred crinkled up his nose, confusion clear on his face. “I don’t know any green witches.”

“It’s a muggle movie, Fred.” Y/N lightly rolled her eyes.

“And who’s she?”

“Glinda, the good witch.”

“Okay, I definitely know witches don’t dress like that.” Fred teased, eyeing the woman on the screen’s frilly pink dress

“Maybe I should start.” Y/N giggled, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Think I could pull it off?”

“Darling, you’d look beautiful in anything.” Fred winked at her, causing her face to heat up. Some part of her knew it was nothing more than harmless joking, but she couldn’t help the way he lit something alive within her. 

“Ya think?” Y/N scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her giddy smile.

“I know.” His voice was soft, and the two of them remained quiet for the next few scenes of the movie.

At some point, the two of them had shifted to lay down in order to get more comfortable on the floor. Fred was laying on his back with one hand behind his head, the other resting idly in between them. Y/N was sprawled out on her stomach, her face down by his feet. Every little bit her eyes would light up and she’d glance back to tell him that her favorite part was coming up, only for him to realize that every part seemed to be her favorite part. Still, he never pointed that out, but instead just smiled fondly at her and nodded.

“Ugh.” Y/N grimaced, a slight shiver running down her spine. “Those monkeys always terrified me when I was little.”

“Oh yeah?” Fred sat up now, leaning closer to her. “You scared now?”

“Psh, no.” Y/N rolled her eyes and glanced back over at him, only to find him slowly inching towards her. She pointed a finger out warningly. “Fred, don’t.”

It was no use, Fred’s hands latched themselves to her sides and began tickling her feverishly. Y/N squealed and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. In the process, she had flipped over onto her back and was now kicking her legs out, trying to get him to stop, but that only egged him on further.

“You sure you’re not scared, Y/L/N?” Fred teased. “I could comfort you, if you were.”

“Freddie! Stop!” Y/N breathed out, tears beginning to pool in her eyes from her laughter.

Y/N now had the front of his jumper balled in her fists, trying desperately to get him to stop. After another minute, he did, and her wriggling ceased. Still, he loomed over top of her while she gripped onto his jumper tightly. Both of them were silent as they stared into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart. For half a second, Y/N swore she saw Fred’s eyes flicker down to her lips, but then she convinced herself she must have dreamed it.

The sounds of the movie seemed to draw them back to the present, and Y/N let go of Fred’s jumper, causing him to sit up. She followed suit, clearing her throat in hopes of easing the tension between them. Fred was never one to let any awkwardness linger, so he nudged her with his elbow before laying back down in the spot he had been before.

“Cuddle up, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe from the big scary winged monkeys.” He winked as he opened his arms for her.

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly, trying desperately to calm the nerves in her stomach, before obliging and cuddling into his side. She let her head rest on his chest, her hand placed just over his heart, as he tightened his arm around her. Y/N found that she couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie, what with Fred pulling a blanket up around them and gently stroking her hair. She was lulled to sleep by the action, finding that she wished every night, she could fall asleep in his arms.

The two were startled awake the next morning by a bout of loud laughter. As Y/N quickly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she spotted George, fully dressed in his school uniform, gazing down at them with an amused grin. Fred groaned from where he still laid on the floor, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the light.

“And what’s this?” George cocked his head to the side. “You guys are really taking this ‘fake dating’ thing pretty seriously. Honestly, you’ve got me convinced.”

Fred shot up quickly at that, nervously looking around the common room to make sure no one heard. When he realized it was only the three of them, he let out a breath of relief.

“Come off it, will you? We just fell asleep after watching a movie.” Fred shot his brother a glare.

Y/N felt sick at the reminder that everything between them was fake. Every little moment she had foolishly convinced herself could mean something more was nothing but wishful thinking. Drawing in a deep sigh, Y/N forced herself up and gestured for Fred to move with a flick of her wand. Once he obliged, she flicked her wand again and gathered all of the blankets and pillows before pushing the couch back. Without another word, she stalked back up the steps to her dorm, and prepared herself for another long day.

-

When Y/N arrived to the potions classroom, her stomach dropped at the sight of Annalise once again in the seat next to her usual one. She gazed around the room, grumbling slightly when she realized she had no other choice but to sit next to the girl. 

“Wow, you look like hell.” Annalise sneered when she trudged over.

“Probably because I was up all night with Fred.” Y/N shot back, before truly registering her words. “Not… Not like that.”

Annalise snorted at the insinuation and rolled her eyes. It seemed she was about to say something, no doubt some snide comment, but was cut off by Snape walking into the room. Y/N straightened up and began to listen to the professor drone on, her stomach twisting in knots when she realized what that day’s lecture would entail. A cauldron sat at the front of the classroom, an alluring steam rising off of it. Y/N knew, it was Amortentia.

After giving a brief lecture on it, Snape used his wand to lift the cauldron in the air, slowly letting it stop by each desk for the students to gaze at. He appeared completely uninterested by the kids’ excitement from what they smelled. Finally, it arrived at Y/N and Annalise’s table.

Y/N leaned forward and took a breath in, her nose being filled with the scent of fireworks, chocolate, and the shampoo Fred used. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, not needing the reminder that she felt so deeply for someone who didn’t return her affections.

Annalise leaned forward and breathed in a deep breath, a dreamy smile gracing her face. Her eyes flickered towards the front of the classroom, finding Snape deep in conversation with another Ravenclaw student. Quickly, she pulled an empty glass bottle from her bag and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it entirely.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N hissed, sitting up abruptly.

“I’m gonna use it as perfume. So everyone smells what they’re attracted to on me, and wants to be around me.” Annalise shrugged, placing a cork on the bottle and sliding it back into her bag. Y/N knew she could get in loads of trouble for carrying such a dangerous and potent potion, yet she didn’t speak up to turn her in. “Professor Snape, we’re all done back here!”

And with that, Snape was whisking the cauldron away and carrying on with his lecture. Y/N watched Annalise out of the corner of her eye, certain she was up to something from the glint in her eye. Still, like always, she stayed silent.

-

A week later, all thoughts of Annalise’s odd behavior had completely left Y/N’s mind. She was so caught up in falling for Fred even more each day, she could hardly focus on anything else. The fact that he hadn’t brought up Annalise once since their movie night didn’t go unnoticed to her, and she found herself chasing the familiar hope that maybe he was starting to fall for her too.

“I’ve gotta catch up with Georgie and Lee—they’re still mad I ditched them last week.” Fred informed her as he finished his dinner. “Catch you later?”

She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face when he swooped down and kissed her cheek before hurrying off. Y/N was so in a daze that she didn’t even notice someone slide in the seat beside her, occupying the space Fred was once in.

“Ah, so you two are still together, are you?” Annalise spoke up, making her presence known. She wore a devilish grin as she feigned a casual act, picking at her nails.

“Obviously.” Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“What a shame, I just hate to be the one to tell you this.” She sighed.

“Tell me what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she turned to look at Annalise full on.

“Well, I’ve been wearing my perfume, you see.” She craned her neck and circled her hand, gesturing for Y/N to lean in and take a whiff. The smell was undeniable, and as much as she hated being in the presence of her cousin, it kept her reeled in. “Smell Freddie, do you?”

“Why do you care?” Y/N gritted her teeth, hating the way his nickname sounded coming from her mouth.

“Because, he doesn’t smell you.” Annalise shrugged. “In fact, what was it he told me he smelled? Right, fresh ink, my peach shampoo, and… Oh, I can’t remember. It was so hard to pay attention while he was snogging me in that broom closet.”

Y/N instantly dropped the utensils in her hand, ignoring the way they clattered to the ground. The sound drew a few eyes towards them, and Annalise simply smirked at her cousin. Y/N could feel tears welling behind her eyes, but she was also angry. At Fred, for not just telling her that he had finally gotten what he wanted. And at Annalise, for always being so dead set on ruining everything for her.

“What did I ever do to you?” Y/N heard her voice crack, and she felt just as pathetic as Annalise wanted her to feel. When she spoke again, her tone increased significantly. “Why must you always ruin everything for me?”

Some part of her knew she shouldn’t be freaking out, because this had always been the plan. She knew Annalise could never let anything be hers, so she should simply take it in stride and move on. But she couldn’t. She had been so sure that Fred and her were starting to build something real, that she’d finally be with the boy she’d crushed on for years, and now all of that hope was shattered.

“I’m just being a good cousin.” Annalise slapped a hand to her chest, feigning some sort of dignity that she certainly didn’t have. “Really, he was bound to cheat on you at some point. I just made it happen sooner rather than later. You should be thanking me.”

Y/N reached for her wand and gripped it tightly in her fist, ready to point it at her and fire off whatever hex came to mind. In an instant, fear was in Annalise’s eyes and she was cowering back. Professor McGonagall was now rushing forward, shouting her surname and ordering her to stop. In response, Y/N lowered her wand and wiped at her eyes, forcing none of her tears to fall.

“You know what, you’re not even worth it.”

And with that, she was marching out of the Great Hall, ignoring any calls of her name.

-

When Y/N made it back to the common room, she found George, Lee, and Fred gathered around a small table in the corner. A few other students were littered throughout the room, as well. Y/N almost just stormed right up to her dorm, intent on never speaking to Fred again, but she was sick of always letting people treat her like rubbish. So, right as she made it to the base of the steps, she turned on her heels and marched to their table, causing all of their eyes to fall on her.

“Hello, love—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Fred. “Godric, I know I agreed to help the two of you get together, but cheating on me? Leaving me embarrassed in front of the whole school? What is wrong with you?”

Lee and George glanced at each other with wide eyes before signally towards their steps and quietly sneaking away. This left Fred in open-mouthed shock, gaping at Y/N in all of her fury.

“I don’t know what—”

“And don’t even tell me how it wasn’t really cheating, because we weren’t really together, I know. But the rest of the school doesn’t know that! Annalise doesn’t know that! And now you’ve fed directly into her only wish of making my life utterly horrible.” Y/N fumed, although her hands were shaking slightly. “So, congrats Fred. You finally got the girl. And Annalise got what she wanted, too. Looks like you two are perfect for each other.”

After saying her piece, she quickly turned around and began making her way back towards her steps. She ignored the many sets of bewildered eyes on her, too angry and hurt to even care. She was only stopped by the feeling of Fred gripping onto her wrist and spinning her back around to face him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fred searched her eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you, fake or not.”

“But—” 

“Annalise yanked me into a broom closet earlier, asking me to smell her neck like a bloody lunatic. So, I did, because I’m always enticed by strange offers.” He quipped with a smile, but when Y/N shot him a pointed look, he became serious once again. “Not the time? Right, okay. So, I smelled her, and I asked if she cornered me in there just to tell me she nicked your perfume, and she got all huffy, so I left. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t even mention it because it was too weird to explain.”

“You…” The words got caught in Y/N’s throat, all of her anger leaving her body. “You smelled my perfume?”

“Yeah, and faintly my mum’s roast, but I didn’t question it.” Fred shrugged. “Why?”

Y/N slowly raised a hand up to her mouth, gazing between where his hand still held her wrist and his eyes. Fred had never been very good at potions, so she knew just saying Annalise was wearing ‘Amortentia’ would explain very little.

“She was wearing a love potion, Fred.” Y/N spoke up, much quieter than before. “You smell what you’re attracted to in it.”

In an instant, Fred’s face was a bright shade of red and he quickly dropped her wrist. His eyes dipped down as he avoided her gaze, and Y/N realized this was the first time she’d ever seen him nervous.

“I…” Fred struggled to find words. “I don’t—I mean, I do… But I didn’t want you to—”

“Ask me what I smell in mine.” Y/N urged, cutting off his rambling. Fred shot his head back up at that, looking at her quizzically. 

“What do you smell in yours?” There was a hopeful glint behind his eyes, though his words were soft.

“Fireworks, chocolate…” Y/N took a step closer to him. “And your shampoo.”

The second that Fred fully registered what her words meant, he was closing the distance between the two of them. Y/N let out a shocked giggle as he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing his lips fully to hers for the first time. Although she had seen fireworks before, and she had smelled them almost every time Fred and George were around, neither compared to what it was like to feel fireworks. Y/N’s arms wound around his neck as she pulled him closer to her, prepared to live in the moment forever if she could.

When they pulled apart, there was nothing left either of them had to say. Fred could apologize for putting her through hell for the past few weeks, and Y/N could apologize for being so harsh, but that didn’t matter to either of them at the moment. All that mattered, was they both finally realized what had always been right in front of them.

-

Very early on in the start of Y/N and Fred’s real relationship, she finally opened up to him about just how awful Annalise really was. His jaw clenched at everything she told him, and he quickly expressed that he never would’ve wanted to be with her had he known. Y/N assured him she didn’t care, because this time, Annalise truly lost.

Although Y/N had been quick to brush off her feud with her cousin, telling Fred it was best to just leave it alone, she couldn’t say she was surprised when she walked into the Great Hall one morning, finding Annalise cowering at her table with neon green hair. It was the exact shade she had used when they were six to ruin Y/N’s drawing. While Fred and George vehemently denied any involvement in the prank, Y/N simply placed a short kiss to Fred’s lips, and quietly thanked him.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop​ @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15​

[novamirmirsblog]

I am not a woman, I'm a God (17+)

If I can't have love I want power pt 2

If I can't have love masterlist

Word Count: 1640

Genre: dark I guess?

Request: no

Warnings: none? (atm anyways)

A/N: I'm not too happy with this chapter so it's subject to change BUT the next couple chapters should pick things up a little :3 OH and the next chapter might contain smut (Idk yet - I'll try to edit this when I've written the next chapter)

1737 - The middle

The revenge was sweet and drawn out. The redhead and her long-time friend had made sure of that. They let you finish the duke off but not before they had their fun. The two women were gorgeous, both with red hair that would make any woman jealous. The green-eyed woman had hair like a wildfire and the blue-eyed woman had hair the colour of a deep red sunset. Liking women was wrong but you weren’t sure these two counted as women – they certainly weren’t human. Wanda, the one with sunset hair, tortured your husband mentally, angry whisps the same colour as Natasha’s hair crawled in through his ears and buried themselves deep within his brain. While this was happening, Natasha was peeling layer after layer of skin off him with her razor-sharp nails. You weren’t sure if you could even call them nails – not when they looked so much more like claws. While Wanda was exploiting your husband’s deepest darkest fears, Natasha was calmly explaining to you which tools to use where so you could cause the most pain. Apparently pain and torture was an aphrodisiac for them because the two demons decided to show you what you had been missing out on due to your husband’s lack of skill.

That was almost 200 years ago. Wanda and Natasha had given you great gifts, allowing you to have a much longer life, giving you cat-like reflexes and godlike powers. Perhaps your favourite was the enhancements they gave to your voice. People were suddenly compelled to do whatever you suggested they do and the rush it gave you was unexplainable. These gifts were not free however and yet the price was one you willingly paid repeatedly. Especially because it meant spending extra time with your two favourite demons. You were there to cause chaos and have fun which was ironic considering Wanda was a chaos demon and Natasha was a succubus but perhaps that’s why you did what you did. Perhaps it was because you were made by them and therefore must serve them in every way imaginable.

~~~~~

You had watched your siblings grow from afar and made sure every single villager who ever even looked at them wrong suffered. When you were with Wanda and Natasha, it felt as if everything just fit into place. It was strange and you felt as if you shouldn’t miss them – they killed and tortured your husband in front of you, gave you gifts that meant you couldn’t live a normal life and coerced you into sex that you weren’t sure you wanted; yet you still wanted them.

Your story was told countless times and the more times it was told, the deeper the truth was twisted into a legend, a tale mothers told their children to keep them away from the forests late at night. You were turned into a martyr, a victim of the horrible cruelties the evil creatures of the world could bestow onto innocent girls.

You were anything but.

If the storytellers could see you now, they would burn all mentions of your story. You were a problem child, a bad example and you had two of the most powerful demons wrapped around your little finger.

A few years ago, you had mentioned to Natasha and Wanda one evening that you were bored. That’s how you found yourself currently being shot at.

“Natty I’m bored.” You whined, throwing yourself dramatically over the bed. History was going through a dry spell; people weren’t doing anything interesting and there weren’t enough opportunities for you to wreak havoc.

“Natty” Wanda mocked “Our princess is bored.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Natasha moved to hover over you, Wanda placed your head in her lap. Natasha’s tail flicked with a cat-like manner before it slithered between your legs.

You grabbed her tail and she let out a moan “Not now Natasha. I’m serious. If I knew living forever was going to be this boring, then I wouldn’t have done it.” That wasn’t quite true, you enjoyed being theirs to use but you were getting restless.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss Wanda instead. You waited a few moments for the two demons to stop their make-out session, but it didn’t look to be ending any time soon. You rolled out from underneath Natasha and untangled Wanda’s fingers from where she was massaging your scalp.

“Awe come back baby.” Wanda broke the kiss and made grabby arms at you. For a supposed demon, she sure was soft. “I promise we’ll make things more fun.”

Natasha rolled her eyes again “You’ve gone soft Wands.” Although Natasha huffed and puffed about how ‘soft’ Wanda had gotten, she seemed to have a slightly less hardened heart when she looked at you.

You were no longer bored but you were being shot at and while it couldn’t kill you, it sure did sting. Perhaps going after Dick Turpin’s loot was a bad idea but what can you say? You wanted to live a little. All you had wanted was a pretty horse you had seen him steal but nooo – he had to keep them all for himself. You had managed to escape Mr Turpin himself but one of his lackeys just wouldn’t give up. Rather than continuing to run, you decided you may as well get a quick meal.

“Hello darling.” Your voice echoed from all around, you watched as the man trying to kill you frantically whipped his head around.

“Who are you? Come out now!”

You let out a low, predatory chuckle.

“I’m the poor little martyr in all your stories.”

“No. You can’t be- that’s impossible! You should be dead!” You watched as the man continued to spin around and around in circles, watching him trip before revealing yourself.

“I am ancient. I have seen empires rise and fall. I have seen kings and queens and holy men enter the world and I have seen them leave; and yet I am nowhere near as old or as powerful as the women who made me the person I am today. While I watched preestablished civilisations crumble, they were reminiscing the time they created them, all while burning them to the ground. Some call me the end but they are mistaken. They are the end. I am your warning. I am the only kindness they will show you. Trivial things such as death do not concern me.” As you finished your speech, Natasha and Wanda’s comforting aura surrounded you, the dark mist embracing you before forming the two women.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun now could we dove?” Natasha’s voice rumbled out against your neck, biting it lightly.

“You have to share.” Wanda cooed, lifting your chin up to face her as she captured your lips with hers.

The idiot who you were about to kill and feed on decided now was a good time to make their escape. Luckily, Wanda had other plans as her red magic bought the squirming meal back to you.

“Go away. I want to eat. It’s been so long.” You pouted, making your way back to your meal. It was a little annoying that to continue living in your young body that you had to drain the soul from another person, but it was worth it.

“But if we leave then who’s going to do all the heavy lifting?”

“And who will dig the hole in your garden?”

“Or put the body in the hole?”

“Or-”

“Okay! I get it. Fine. But just hush, okay? I like to eat in peace.” You grabbed the man and kissed him hard, feeling his soul merge with yours before it was consumed by the darkness.

“I don’t know why you always have to kiss them to feed” Natasha bit out, moving away from you with Wanda, voicing her unhappiness at you kissing someone else when only she should be kissing you- her and maybe Wanda.

“Well, it wasn’t me who made her feed that way.” Wanda whispered back

“Are you suggesting this is my fault?” Natasha’s voice got low and dangerous, and you felt the forest drop about 10 degrees.

“Well that’s how you feed isn’t it?” Wanda’s eyes glowed and a wind picked up.

You pulled away from your meal, the faint glow of his soul swirling around your mouth and eyes. “Want to share?” The forest rose back to its original temperature and climate as Natasha kissed you, absorbing small remnants of the soul. Wanda wrapped one arm around your waist while the other snaked up to your neck, her teeth lightly biting and sucking along your shoulders.

“I think you forget dove” Natasha broke the kiss to growl at you

“We’re in charge here. If we wanted to share, then we would share.” Wanda finished off for her.

It dawned on you that perhaps this was about more than just the meal. They were jealous.

“Are you two jealous?” You laughed, not at the situation but at their reactions. Wanda bit you harder and Natasha just glared at you.

“Of course not. Why would we be jealous of some silly insignificant dum-”

“Baby…” You reached up and placed one hand lightly on Wanda’s horn and the other on Natasha’s cheek, effectively stopping Natasha’s rant about how unjealous they are. Wanda moved from where she was standing behind you to stand next to Natasha. “You both know that if I could live off Demon energy then I would, but I can’t.”

Natasha and Wanda shared a look, having a silent conversation in the space of seconds before turning their attention back to you. “That’s not necessarily true love.” Wanda said.

“It will be painful but…well demons aren’t born. They’re made.” Natasha explained.

“And if you wanted to…”

You didn’t even hesitate before giving your answer. “Yes.”

Taglist:

@lucydiibi

[ceilingfan5]

Wedding/ sick for weird au mixes

Kravitz thinks of himself as a relatively sensible guy. Somehow, despite this, he always seems to end up in bizarre situations, and this time, he might have really taken the cake.

Not literally. Wedding cakes are so fucking expensive. Did you know this? So expensive. Even breathing is expensive when it comes to weddings. Kravitz is never getting married. If he ever feels the urge, he’s going to take a cold shower and then calculate, by hand, how many burritos he can get for the cost of a wedding while he’s still dripping wet and naked. This is a foolproof plan.

Kravitz likes plans. He likes knowing what’s going on at any given time and what the appropriate reaction is to any given situation and he likes knowing the right way to handle things, which, he’s been criticized in the past, by several different boyfriends, is like trying to get a good grade on every social interaction at all times, like he’s going to be given a report card at the end of a fucking conversation. This is normal to want and possible to achieve. Kravitz is doing great. And all of those guys saved him a lot of money on not having a wedding, so, really, he should thank them for fundamentally misunderstanding him on a level bordering on cruel.

He’s sensible. He likes plans. He wants to know the right answers. And yet? And fucking yet?? He finds himself doing shit like this, holding back the long hair of a complete stranger in the bathroom the night after the bachelorette parties. They aren’t even from the same side of the wedding party--Kravitz is firmly in Sloane’s camp, the best man, in fact, and he’s never met Taako before this week.

“So, you’re Hurley’s friend, right?” He tries to keep his voice soothing, and he pats Taako’s back a little. He doesn’t want to overstep, but he also doesn’t want Taako to be as miserable as humanly possible, which he’s certainly trying to achieve with a fervent vigor most people retain for gambling, or extreme sports. He wishes he had a little pocket guide book for weird situations like this. Turn to page 34 to comfort a stranger. Turn to page 62 for dealing with someone who is attempting to vomit everything they’ve eaten since age five.

“Yeah,” Taako moans. He leans his head, presumably pounding like a DJ scoring a hammer festival, gently against the toilet paper dispenser. “Sorry to drag you into this. You can- mmnnh. You can go. If I die, I die.”

“I think Hurley would be upset if you died,” Kravitz says gently. “You’re under contract until you wear that suit tomorrow. Maybe after that you can schedule a date with Death.”

“Hope it’s not a dinner date.” Taako snickers at his own joke, and then hiccups and covers his mouth. “Fuck!”

“Listen, not that it’s any of my business,” imagine him rapidly flipping pages in his guidebook, looking for the appropriate conversation cue. Interventions in 60 seconds. No? Maybe 25 conversation starters that aren’t about toilets? “But when we ran into each other at the casino last night, you seemed a little...” Flirtatious. Angry. Incredibly wasted. “Distracted. Is something on your mind? Besides the wedding, I guess?”

“Damn, you-” Taako hiccups again, and shifts his legs, groaning. “You weren’t kidding, that isn’t any of your business.”

Ah! Fuck! He’s losing points! What a terrible misstep! How will his grade ever recover!

“I’m so sorry-” he backpedals. “I just-”

“No, I get it.” Taako sighs. “Shit. Um. You know, I’m too hungover to lie to you? Um.” He fidgets with the toilet paper like a cat finding its own enrichment. It’s almost endearing. “Um. Okay. Yeah. I was in a mood. I would still be, if my fuckin’ head didn’t feel like it’s losing a getting-crushed-by-a-steamroller race. I’ll have more feelings later, I guess. Jot that down on your calendar.”

“Noted.”

“I, um.” Taako closes his eyes, shoulders lurching a little again, but Kravitz gently pulls his long, silky hair back from his face, and it doesn’t go further than that this time. “I was supposed to get married this year. And, uh.” He waves the fingers on his left hand, all of them incredibly empty. “Sorta fucked that one up.”

“Oh,” Kravitz says, intelligently. He imagines frantically flipping through his guidebook. Even in his head, there’s no suggestions for this. It’s a picture of a cartoon frog giving a thumbs up. Frogs don’t even really have thumbs. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I can see why that would be hard to deal with.”

“Yeah,” Taako chuckles. “It sucks. I mean, he sucks, and both of us are stupid, and the whole thing is a mess, and I’m glad it didn’t go forward, but it’s.” He covers his mouth, looking green, but his shoulders slowly relax. “S’bad. Badtime. Badtime for Taako.”

“I see that.” Kravitz decides to carefully rub Taako’s back. If that’s overstepping, he’ll take the F. Taako can tell him to fuck off, and he will, and that’ll be that. But between last night and today, he likes Taako, and he feels bad for him, going through something awful like that. It’s got to be real hard, having to be a big part of a beautiful wedding, mourning one that’ll never be, even if it’s better for everyone involved. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone else who makes you happy, if that’s what you’re looking for. You’re very attractive and funny and- and-” Kravitz’s cheeks heat up. That might have been a bit much for sure. He especially didn’t need to keep talking, because the next thing on his mind was how perfect all of Taako’s freckles are, and that’s, that’s a lot. Wrong thing to say in the wrong situation. This is such a mess.

But Taako laughs.

“Yeah?” he says. “Sounds like you like me.”

“Oh, I- um. I.” Kravitz backpedals, pulling his hand away from Taako. His long, beautiful hair falls around his face again, and even as miserable as he is, he looks like some kind of angel.

Can angels puke? Rats can’t. There might not be a correlation there. Then again, what if there was?

“I’m- I wasn’t- You’re- that would be-” he can’t quite figure out how to defend himself.

“Admit it,” Taako sing-songs, his voice still hoarse.

“I could be convinced to like you,” Kravitz mumbles. “I happen, to, uh. Happen to have an opening. In my life. For likeable people.”

Taako laughs again, tipping his head back and smacking it on the toilet paper dispenser. He whines and rubs it, looking positively wretched.

“You’re wild, Krav,” he says anyway. “Soon as I can brush my teeth, I’m gonna find out if those pretty lips are as kissable as they look.”

Kravitz doesn’t have a page in his book for this, but something in the very, very back of his mind thinks that there are more things in life to do with your money than buy burritos. If not a wedding, at the very least, a date is a good start.

[spinchip]

It’s Not That Bad

Wordcount: 2400 Ship: Mountaingshipping, Cole/Zane/Kai Warnings: Broken bones, blood, violence, injury

Summary: Zane hides an injury.

The fight can’t even be classified as a real fight, in Coles opinion. It’s a street brawl, raw knuckles and split lips- the remaining members of the SOG are brutal when they catch the scent of blood. Without leadership the gang has devolved into troublemakers and men itching for violence, and they’ve gotten bolder- the fight taking place in broad daylight near the center of town. Two weeks ago they’d taken Jay down in the middle of a scrap, a bat to the side of his temple when the group had been separated (he’d been laid up in bed in the dark for days afterwards with a concussion) and since then they’d gotten cocky about the Ninja's weakness.

Lloyd had been adamant about showing a united front- the Ninja team had to be unflappable, rigid and strong to show the growing gang that they were not so easily beaten. They couldn’t afford to give them another inch, which is why it’s so frustrating when they get separated once more. There’s a new player on the gangs side this time, a big man hefting a hammer that could hold its own against Coles. He’s not particularly fast, but the others in the group keep them occupied while the man swings his weapon with bone breaking force. His presence was not something they could ignore, splitting their attention dangerously, making their formation too easy to break.

And it’s not Jay this time, but Zane, who is pushed into a throng of enemies all looking for blood.

Cole doesn’t see what happens to get them to this point, he misses the moment Zane is surrounded, but Lloyd urges the others to make their way to him over the clash of fists. Zane’s always been capable, and today is no exception- but just like before when it had been Jay, there are too many, and it’s not long before a lucky shot sends Zane to the pavement. A sloppy leg sweep Zane wasn’t expecting, going sprawling onto his stomach. It’s simple enough to recover from just fine.

Except the big man swings his hammer before Zane can get his hands underneath him. Down down down in a deadly arc-

There’s no warning Cole can give, no speed or strength to stop it, random men pushing him away from his friend but not crowded enough where he can’t watch it happen. The head of the hammer hits the base of Zane back and the sound it makes- Cole can feel the impact in his bones, his stomach churning and nearly making him gag. The crack of the anvil on metal makes him feel ill.

Zane doesn’t yell or scream, his fingers dig into concrete so hard they leave gouges, and then he goes completely limp. He looks dead, lying facedown on the pavement. The gang members hoot and holler, their fight rejuvenated, and they jump into the fray with more vigor than before.

Slowly, the man brings his hammer up and Coles realizes he means to hit him again.  He pushes frantically through the fight, blows glancing off his shoulders as he barrels through. Nya appears at his side, hair askew, and throws waves of water that sweep several people off their feet, dumping them clear of the path. Cole slams into the big man's side before he can deliver another blow, knocking him back from Zanes still form. Before either of them can get to the downed nindroid, new adversaries file in to try and beat them back, the fight resuming- but the ninja now scrambled and panicked at the loss of one of their own, and the gang member reveling in it.

The man with the hammer, he’s got thin blonde hair and dark eyes, manages to keep up with Cole. Despite Coles obvious skill and experience, he’s making stupid rookie mistakes. Internally cursing, Cole urges himself to focus- rushing into the fray to protect Zane would mean nothing if he fell to the man's hammer too, but it’s looking increasingly grim. The man is pushing himself faster, sweat beading on his brow, and he’s strong.

A smaller man darts past the two of them in a planned maneuver. The big man steps back and Cole is thrown off kilter as his hammer swings wide, and realizes too late that the smaller man has a knife- he can’t avoid it now. He twists, steps back, tries to minimize the damage- and then the man’s legs slide out beneath him and he hits the ground hard, head bouncing off the ice-slick pavement. Zane appears at Coles side and throws ice hard, frost and big chunks of ice invigorated by the wet pavement from Nyas last attack freeze the big man's legs to the road. Cole falls into place at his side, the two fighting off a few more before the gang realizes Zanes back on his feet.

Their bravado and cockiness vanishes. One man turns and runs, and at that the gang scatters- the one who are able to, of course, and are not frozen to the sidewalk or knocked unconscious.

Cole spins around to face Zane, who’s surveying the scene silently, “Are you alright?” He asks, hovering his hands over Zane as if to feel out the injury by aura alone.

Zane’s eyes are trained on the alleyways the gang members disappeared into, mouth a thin and calculated line, “I am alright. The Sons of Garmadons strength is dwindling.”

Cole blinks, frowning. It was almost like Zane wasn’t speaking to him, but the backs of the men hiding away in the dark corners of the streets. As if he was making a point.

The cops show up and begin to load the remaining men into Police Cruisers or ambulances, depending on their state. The ninja did not always pull their punches, especially after Zane hit the ground.

Zane watches as the man with the hammer is loaded onto a police cruiser.

Lloyd motions the two of them over, the others are gathered near a throng of policemen milling about, and Cole reaches out and sets a hand of the small of Zane's back to lead him- Zanes shirt is soaked through and ice cold. The moment his fingers make contact, Zane jolts forward with the barest intake of breath between his teeth. Cole jerks his hand back, the pain flashing across Zanes face almost impossible to catch, but Cole knows his boyfriend better than anyone. A blank mask slips over Zanes face as he stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the act, striding across the pavement before Cole can comment.

Cole trails after him, and now that he’s really looking he can see a dark outline of what looks like water straining the back of Zanes gi. In the heat of battle, if Zane got a particularly bad scape, he’d do some emergency first aid and patch himself up with ice like a scab. The hammer hit him hard, it must have jostled something loose- Cole tries not to worry too hard, Zane is still standing and had even fought with him. They just needed to wrap this up quick and get him home. He has half a mind to scoop the nindroid up gently and carry him back right now- but Zanes' words from earlier hang around his ears. Treating Zane like a delicate injured flower in front of any of the new SOG was bound to encourage their violence, just like in the aftermath of Jay. Like Lloyd wanted, a united and unbreakable front is what they needed to project.

Zane is hiding an injury, and for the sake of reputation, Cole has to allow it.

The police chief is standing with the others, and by the time Cole catches up Zane’s already reassuring everyone, “I am fine.” he says gently, Kais worry coming off of him in waves, “Is there anything we can help with?” He directs his next question to the police chief, clasping his hands in front of him.

Cole, along with the rest of his little family, zeroes in on the way Zanes hands are trembling.

His face is completely serene, his gi is soaked through as his ice patch job struggles to stay frozen, and he’s shaking badly enough for even Nya to notice, shooting him a concerned glance as the Police Chief thanks them. He drones on about safety measures and clean up and other things Cole wants him to shut up about so he can bundle Zane up in his arms and kiss and make it better.

Finally, once the conversation draws to a close and they can excuse themselves from the scene, they unconsciously box Zane in as they walk back to where the bounty is parked. The ramp is down and they surround him protectively as they trek up it. Zane still doesn’t hint that anything is wrong, the silence stretching over them tense as they wait for something to happen.

Nya lifts the bounty into the air, and still Zane doesn’t say anything as he pensively stares over the edge of the railing. Cole can’t stand it anymore, he turns around as the city disappears beneath the clouds, “Zane-” he starts.

“Cole.” Zane gasps, grabbing at Coles shoulders as his knees buckle, the calm mask cracking down the middle as he collapses. Like on the pavement before, Zane clenches his hands and bunches Coles gi in his fingers. Cole, startled, grabs Zanes waist- he gasps and whimpers, and cold fear snaps across Cole's mind. He’s never heard Zane make that noise before.

“Not there,” he shakes his head, Cole moves his hands up to cup under Zanes armpits, and while he doesn’t seem to be happy he doesn’t make that awful whimper again.

Jay and Kai are at his side, fluttering their hands in a panic. They want to help but Zanes reaction makes them reluctant to put their hands on him.

“How can we help? What’s hurt?” Jay asks as Cole pulls Zane closer, pressing them together to help stabilize him.

Zane doesn’t attempt to stand on his own, “Shut me down,” He pants, “It’s- the hammer. He broke my spine.”

Jay pales dramatically, weaseling between the two of them to gain access to Zanes chest compartment. He pried it open quickly, reaching it with practiced ease and resting his finger on the switch off button.

He hesitates, under normal circumstances Jay was to never use this button, “Are you sure?”

“Jay.” Zane stresses each letter, and tears spill over his eyes.

He goes limp- again- as Jay pushes the button, his forced shutdown stealing the iron grip from his hands and the tension from his body. He ragdolls in coles arms, slumping bonelessly into his chest. With no ice to keep him stable, Coles can feel the way his body- it’s… it’s not quite right, the break in his spine sending intense warning siglas to coles head where he’s laid against him. The same bone deep wrongness he’s felt once, in dance class when he was 12, and a girl landed wrong doing a complex dance move and her hand had twisted the wrong way- it’d made him sick, seeing the new bend in her wrist where there wasn’t supposed to be one. It makes him feel sick to carry Zane down to the garage when the dock at the monastery, legs trailing behind him and waist a little too loose where the rigid metal casing was snapped.

Jay's prognosis is, “It’s better than It could have been.” Which is not reassuring to Cole, but Nya seems to lose a bit of tension at.

Zane's artificial spine worked much like Cole or Kais, a bundle of ‘nerves’ and wires and other tubes strung through it to keep it safe. The blow had broken through the outer protective metal but the main cord and delicate wiring was largely unharmed. A few pinched and torn wires, mostly- Zane's ice brace kept the wound from deteriorating drastically. Jay wouldn’t comment on how much pain an injury like this would heap onto their friend, but Cole remembers the way the blood had drained from his face at Zanes confession.

“The fact that he could even move…” He mutters to Nya in awe, delicately and oh so gently maneuvering wires. Nya nodded, mute.

Once their repairs reach completion it’s nearly dark out, Jay flips the on switch back up, and they wait for Zane to turn on.

He wakes up with wet eyes, a few stray tears slipping down his face as the leftover pain signals work their way out of his system. He twists over the edge of the table, looking for relief from the hazy pain, nearly taking himself to the floor if not for Coles gentle hands steadying him.

He clutches at Cole again with a low sound of pain, and slowly his eyes clear.

Cole holds him as Zane buries his face in the soft of his gi top, hiding his eyes against Cole's collarbone. Kai moves in and starts to pet his hair soothingly, warmth spreading through his hands.

“You should have said something.” Cole murmurs, “This wasn’t a loose tube or a scrape, this isn’t something you should have powered through. You should have stayed down.” Cole doesn’t dwell on how much it must have hurt for Zane to get back on his feet, and how if he hadn’t the grunts knife would have struck home.

“I could not.” Zane breathes, pulling a way to readjust so he’s resting his cheek against Cole and his face is bare, “If the SOG knew they had hurt me-”

“We would have dealt with it just fine.” Kai says firmly, “Zane, this- you can’t hide an injury that bad. Watching you collapse, knowing how badly you were in pain…” He can’t finish his sentence, huddling closer and clutching at both his boys.

“I apologize,” Zane mutters, his eyelids flutter.

“We can discuss this tomorrow.” Cole says gently, “But I think we’re all exhausted. Let’s go to bed.”

Kai looks like he wants to say something else, but Zanes dazed and sleepy expression makes the words die on his tongue. He runs a hand through his hair, and Cole watches the weight of the day fully settle on his boyfriend's shoulders, “...Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

Cole carries Zane up to bed, Kai immediately taking up a spot at their boys' side. Zane curls into the warmth of Kais embrace as Cole turns out the light and crawls in behind him. Cole cuddles into Zane, who’s already asleep again, and idly traces the near imperceptible scar on his back where the hammer had split metal.

He stares into the patch of darkness where Zanes head is, and thinks about Zane lying prone on the pavement. He pulls him closer, wraps him up in his arms and holds on tight.

He closes his eyes, and sleep doesn’t hesitate to come.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  7.3

"You shall serve under Childe," the Tsaritsa gestured for you to rise to your feet.  "Mezzetin."

"Uh...bless you?"

"Thus is your new name:  Mezzetin," the archon repeated, raising a brow at your attitude.

"That's not my name."

"Am I hearing you break the contract you proposed to me only a few minutes ago?"  You bit your tongue to refrain from ripping her a new one.  "Childe, why don't you show her to her new room?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Childe led you down an especially long corridor that brought you to what looked like a type of barracks situation.  He opened a door that stood on the left side of the hall and showed you around.  It wasn't that bad of a room; it held a balcony that looked over the snowy landscape outside.  The walls were a deep burgundy color with dim lighting, which only seemed to further mock your dark circumstances .

"How do you like your room, Mezzetin?"

"If I hear that god-awful name again, I--"  That's odd.  Why is there a mask on my bed?  You picked it up and noted it was the same color as the walls.  It might have been slightly similar to Xiao's mask, in that it looked relatively animal-like.  It was harbinger-status, being that it held no similarities with that of the Fatui agent or skirmisher masks and was completely unique.

"Ah, that caught your attention?  It's yours."

Why was there already a spare mask? I barely made the decision to join them not even ten minutes ago.  Do they have a surplus of masks here?  Your gaze rose to Childe's in a questionable manner.  

"What?"  Childe let out an awkward laugh.

"Nothing."

"Well, I should get back to the throne room and let you adjust here for a bit, no?  I'll return soon."  His suspicious hurry to leave made you roll your eyes, but your attention just returned to the mask in your hands.  

Why did they already have a mask for me?

...............................

"Well done, Childe."  The Tsaritsa praised her devoted weapon of war as he knelt before her.  "When you proposed your idea to me I wasn't sure you'd be up for such a task, especially since you hate deception.  Everything played out exactly as you expected.  You have earned my praise."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."  Childe rose to his feet and revealed a dark grin.

Signora slowly clapped her hands as she approached the teen.  "To think that our youngest and most inexperienced would come up with a plan to manipulate the girl into joining us by manipulating Morax into waging war--you have matured greatly, Childe."

"Your praise is appreciated, Fair Lady."

"Just do your job correctly and make sure she doesn't get any bright ideas to turn on us," Scaramouche walked out of the throne room.

"Not one to praise another, as expected," Childe sneered.

"The sixth harbinger is correct, Childe.  While your plan has succeeded, your duty does not end here.  Such is why the girl will be in your hands; do not fail me."

................................

"...What do we do now?" Aether's voice pierced the snow that fell upon the trio as they headed for the Snezhnayan border.  The walk had been excruciatingly long and quiet, the atmosphere holding a somber note and sour aftertaste in everyone's mouths.

"...I suppose we continue to look for you sister," Zhongli suggested.  "That is what you originally gathered us for, is it not?"  The archon kept his gaze on the snowy ground.

"It is..." Aether's gaze shifted to Xiao, who was quieter than he usually was.  "What do you think, Xiao?"

"I'm returning to Liyue and continuing my duty."

"So that's it?"  The boy stopped in his tracks.  "We're just going to give up on her? Is that it?  I'm not going to just sit around while she's still stuck in that dreadful place.  Don't you two cherish her like I do?  Don't you, Xiao?"  His hands curled into tight fists as he thought about Lumine.  He couldn't comprehend the idea of giving up either of you.

The two adepti halted, and the yaksha met Aether's eyes.

"Don't think we haven't noticed how the two of you look at each other," Paimon popped up and put her hands on her hips.  "You two like each other more than teammates!  We're not stupid! So why are you just walking away?"

"She chose her path," Xiao stated.  "It's not like I can dissuade her from her decision; she clearly felt strongly about it."

"If she does not wish to be saved, there is nothing we can do," added Zhongli.  

"Well she clearly thought you guys were going to get a bunch of innocent people killed over her!"  Paimon huffed.  "Of course she wouldn't want to be saved if it meant all that death would be her fault!"

"Paimon..." Aether's gaze wavered at his emergency food.

"And you!" The mascot switched to Xiao.  "She clearly loves you, but you have no idea what that means even though it's bright as day that you feel the same for her!  Why didn't you tell her?!"

"I can't make much of human em--"

"No! Here's what's going to happen.  You're going to go back there, confess your lovey-dovey feelings and get her out of there!"

Xiao disappeared before their eyes, obviously agitated by Paimon's annoying rant.  "Great," Aether pulled at his hair.  "Now look at what you did, Paimon."

"He needs to hear the truth at some point!" She huffed.

..................................

"Xiao?"  Aether and Paimon investigated the Wangshu Inn as soon as they got back to Liyue a week or so later.  "Are you up here?"

"What do you want?"  The adeptus appeared next to them in a similar manner to when they first met.  He was just as unwelcoming as he was back then.

"We made some almond tofu!"  Paimon made a giddy gesture to Aether, and the boy held the dish out to Xiao.

"We thought you would like some," he gave a faint grin.  The yaksha didn't return it, instead returning his gaze to the moonlit scenery past the railing.

"I'll pass."

"Oh..." This is really bad.  Aether sent a worried glance to Paimon.  "Are you sure?  You love almond tofu."

"Mortal food is not to my liking," the yaksha grit his teeth in agitation.  "You should leave.  There's no reason for the two of you to be here."

"Don't be so rude to us!  We came to talk about her!"  Paimon flew forward so that she blocked Xiao's view of the scenery.  "We know how much you care about her.  Isn't there a way to contact her somehow?  You know, with your psychic abilities or something?"

"This conversation is pointless.  If there's nothing else, see yourselves out."

"Xiao."  Aether's shoulders dropped as he tried to figure out the correct words.  He failed to come up with something, and looked to Paimon.  "...Let's go."

Xiao didn't bother to glance their way as they made their exit, instead focusing on the scenery below him.  He hadn't heard from you since you saw him off.  'I love you,' she said.  Why does remembering it hurt so much?  He shivered as he remembered the look in your eyes.  They were so gentle, kind, yet broken.  Like you had just...given up on life.  Just what had Childe done to you to make you say those things?  His thoughts were fortunately interrupted when he felt a shift of energy carried through the wind.  He looked to the Guili Plains up ahead, and dispersed.

The yaksha came upon several lawachurls, which were relatively uncommon to the area compared to other places in Liyue.  The evil that consumed them reeked of gods past. Xiao didn't hesitate to wave a hand over his face and manifest his yaksha mask, throwing himself into his life-long work of defeating the evil that plagues Liyue.  Only this time, he used it as an outlet for his frustrations rather than solely fighting to fulfill his duty.

"My fight goes on."  That's right, he watched the demonic smoke whirl around him.  My fight does not stop for her.  My duty is here.  He twirled his polearm and leapt through the air, slicing at the closest lawachurl.  Since he and the monsters were far from the nearest road, he let loose a little.  And by a little, I mean a lot.  

The nearest trees splintered from the shockwave of his attacks, with the other lawachurls shaking off the bulky rock armor off their backs.  The ground rumbled beneath their feet.  Xiao plummeted to the earth and subsequently killed the first lawachurl with the blow.  Then he moved onto the next one, finding no fear in the monstrous bellow that greeted him face-to-face.  He shoved the lance through it's bottom jaw and jutted it through the skull with little effort.

The third charged just as he removed his polearm from the corpse of the second.  This time Xiao whipped around and thrust his weapon into the monster's knee, yanking it out to then deal several blows across its chest and decapitate it.  "Worthless," he growled as he watched the monsters disintegrate.  He continued his attacks on the remaining four until he stood alone among the ruins.  He watched as the spirits of the damned returned to their rightful places in the earth.

Xiao thought nothing of the disturbed soils and began to walk towards the inn once more until the demonic voices called out to him.  Some were quiet, no more than a whisper, while others were obnoxiously loud and demanded attention.  They moaned and whined, each having a unique pitch of anger tinging their curses and cries for help.  Xiao fell to his knees, with his body leaning on his polearm as it was overwhelmed with the hatred of the damned. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Not this again.

...............................

Your time in Snezhnaya wasn't fun so far, and you often secluded yourself in your room whenever you had the chance to avoid the Tsaritsa or her little puppets.  Childe checked on you often, doing so in a way that showed his concern for your obvious depression as you longingly stared out into the winter wonderland from your window.

You were being pestered by Childe yet again when you became overwhelmingly dizzy and nauseous.  "Urk--"  You doubled over and grabbed onto the curtain to steady yourself.

"Hey, are you alright?"  Childe put a concerned hand on your shoulder.

"What is...this...?"  Your fit of nausea transformed into an overwhelming hatred for nothing in particular.  You fell to all fours, heaving from a level of anger never experienced before.  "What is this!"

"...Comrade?" His words were drowned out by the desperate screams that entered your mind.  Your hands hurried to cover your ears in an attempt to make the voices stop, but they didn't disappear.

"They're so loud!"  You cried out, now in physical pain that was equivalent to being set on fire and shredded with knives.  "Stop!  Shut up!"

Childe quickly dropped to your level and lifted your chin up to examine your glowing eyes and the tears drenching your cheeks.  "What's wrong?"  He mouthed, but you still couldn't hear him.

"It hurts!"  You coughed, one hand covering your mouth only to be retracted and painted with your blood.  I'm bleeding?  Panic set in and the pain only worsened, the voices getting louder and louder while Childe desperately tried to get you to answer him.  "This hate!  Why do I feel so hateful?  Make it stop!"  You were screaming hysterically now, squeezing your eyes shut and clawing at your ears until they too began to bleed.  "Make it stop!"  Your senses were easily overwhelmed, and all you could focus on was the pain and the volume of the voices surrounding you.  "Please!" You couldn't seem to catch a decent breath of air like something heavy was sitting on you.

"Hey now!"  The harbinger watched the blood spill from the lips.  This is...  He pulled you close to him and held you tightly, ordering for medical aid when an agent burst through the door from hearing the ruckus.  "It's okay, it's okay--"

All you could do was continue to heave deep breaths to quell the rage that resided within you, to quell the demonic voices that demanded you to succumb to them.  Childe didn't let up his grip around you and pressed your head tightly against his chest.  Rage.  Hatred.  Agony.  The feelings tore through you like you were made of paper.  It was hard to explain, but the emotions felt otherworldly; nonhuman.  Your blood continued to seep from your mouth and soak into Childe's clothes while he continued to rock you back and forth.  Your screams were a mixture of cries for help and manic giggling as you lost all sense of rationality.

.......................................

"Hey girlie," the familiar harbinger was hovering above your face when you finally reopened your eyes.  You were apparently still in your room, this time lying in bed with a damp cloth draped across your forehead and the moonlight illuminating the two of you.  "How're you feeling?"

"Mn."  You blinked sluggishly and tried to move around.

"Ah, I wouldn't do that.  You were bleeding internally, you know," he let out a strangled laugh as you returned to your original position.  "You really had us worried for a sec."

"Yeah right." The growl that emitted from your throat seemed to put Childe off guard, another flash of concern waving over his demeanor.  It was clear residual hatred still resided in you even though that was your usual response to his remarks.  Your eyes were still glowing.

"You feel his pain now?"  He raised a brow.  "Is that how this bond works?"

"What of it?" A dry giggle escaped your chapped lips as the hushed voices continued to plague you.

Interesting...This could pose a possible problem for the soldiers...I should inform Dottore immediately.  Childe removed himself from the bed and headed for the door.  "I'll check on you in a few hours.  Try and get some rest."

A slight draft brushed across the tip of your nose the second he closed the door, and you looked to the window to find a shadowy figure obscuring the moonlight that entered the room. It slowly approached the bed until it stood at your side.  The closer it got, the louder the voices became.  You winced when it leaned over you.

"You..."  Xiao's face occupied most of your vision.  He didn't need to know what happened to understand it was linked to his dealings with the possessed lawachurls a few hours ago.  "I felt your distress."

"What're you doing here?" You snapped quietly, the voices still raging a storm within your words.  It's not like you've communicated with him at all ever since you confessed your feelings.  He had no reason to be here...right?

"Do not fall prey to the darkness," he warned.  "I cannot save you if you allow yourself to be overrun."  He hesitantly placed a hand against your forehead in an attempt to gage your wellbeing.  He didn't have the powers of Zhongli, so there was no point in trying, but he did it anyway.  Your glowing eyes seemed to capture his, and the two of you stared at one another for a few moments.

Another laugh left your lips, and it was nothing short of disturbing unlike the airy carefree ones Xiao had heard you release before.  It was evil.  Mocking.  "I never called you here."

The yaksha let out something between a growl and a sigh.  "I have no choice but to kill you if you're consumed.  Do not let them overwhelm you," he repeated as he locked on your eyes.  While his words were sharp, the look in his eyes was nothing but endearing.  "I can always hear them, but you don't have to.  It's just a side effect; this too, shall pass."

"...It hurts."  Those two pained whimpers broke through the wall of hatred that surrounded you from within.  The glowing lights in your eyes flickered as you regained yourself in his presence.  

"I understand," he assured while his hand left your forehead to accompany your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your skin to wipe the tear that had fallen from your right eye.  He winced when he realized blood was mixed in with it, but didn't let on that he was taking a closer look at your eye.  Mortal bodies cannot withstand this...He bit the inside of his cheek as he thought of the worst-case scenario that had consumed his fellow yakshas long ago.  If we get them out of her now, she should still be able to fully recover.

He continued to stroke your cheek while you stared up at him, still unable to fully move your tired limbs that felt like they were severed at the ligaments.  Eventually you gathered enough strength to move your arm and place your hand over the one that cupped the side of your face.  You weren't sure of how much time had passed, but painful tears fell occasionally and were coupled with Xiao's brief looks of concern.

"I'm here," he soothed.  Archons, the way he handled you was so delicate.  Had he ever been this gentle with you, even when he caught you in your lowest moments?  If he had, the voices made it difficult to retrieve the memory.  They continued to scream and swirl within the depths of your mind, but the presence of the yaksha subdued them somewhat.

"I-I didn't...want to leave you..."  Your bloodied tears stained his hand and your pillow.  Xiao shifted on the bed upon hearing this and feeling your tears brim the corners of his eyes.  He continued to stroke your cheek.

"Do not speak; you're making your condition worse," he ordered.  "I can't hold your decision against you."

"But--"

"'What matters now isn't failures of the past; we are here together.'  Are those not your words?"  His head tilted slightly, and a fond smile formed across his lips.  "Rest.  I will be here until morning."

"Don't...leave..." You begged, gripping his hand a little tighter.  "Please."

Xiao watched the glow in your eyes eventually flicker out right before you fell asleep.  He took it upon himself to wipe the bloody streaks from your cheeks, and even let you continue to hold his hand while you slept.  He stayed true to his word and sat beside you until the first light of dawn shone through your window, his hand never fully leaving your skin until he had to return to Liyue.

....................

Coming up:  A harbinger’s gift: some much-needed therapy.  Tea time with an archon.  The moonsong.

[its-kall-the-clown]

Prompt 45 for pigsy and mk from that post about mk getting turned into a pig demon?

hey! this is actually @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off concept. I thankfully got permission to write something

(thank you Knox!!!!❤❤❤✨✨💖🤡 )

I got permission from Knox to write something but keep in mind this is just my interpretation of the idea, I tweaked it a bit and it so probably should be taken as a grain of salt especially if they end up writing something later for it!

Hope you enjoy!~

the original post is HERE for those who don't know about it

prompt list

You Look Like Me

Rating: G

“D-Do I look okay?”

MK asked himself as he examined himself in the mirror of his bathroom. He locked himself in here about an hour ago and was hunched over the sink, snout pressed to the mirror.

He was studying himself.

After he transformed due to a hiccup in his transformation training with Wukong. And now….now he was this.

He looks at his new face. Instead of the human boy with dark brown locks, he's met with fluffy short furred snout and folded ears.

He's a pig boy now.

He touches his face, even his hands are no longer his, instead of small fingers he has hard black claws at the end of his nails they make him think of split hooves. He opens his mouth and examines his teeth. They are basically the same, save for the bottom canines that seem a bit longer. He realizes they are actually tusks that haven't grown in yet. Unlink Pigsy that had them out but keeps them relatively short with maintenance.

Actually, a lot of MK looked like Pigsy now that he thinks about it.

He had a cute short snout with two creases across the bridge in the same direction and shape as Pigsy, and even one ear was folded over slightly more than the other like Pigsy.

The snout sat on the edge of his face and MK touched gently, it was moist and It twitches under the contact. He jerks away when he realizes it moves on its now. It sniffs and wiggles gently as he breaths.

He also realizes his scenes of smell are better right now too.

He can smell the soap in his tub, he can smell the mint of his toothpaste even inside the tube, and he can even smell the spices and smells of Pigsy's noodles cooking even from a floor up.

His hearing is better too.

He can hear Pigsy closing up, the clanking of bowls that mix with his rumbling voice as it converses with Tang.

But his hearing goes much further than that. He can hear the humming of electricity, he can hear the cars outside and his own breathing.

Now that he was focusing on it, the noise was too much. He covers his ears, pressing them flat against his head, the fuzzy ears twitch under the contract before they are pinned to his head by his hands.

Even with the muffled sound, he can still hear the knock on his door. How he missed the footsteps leading up to it was a mystery.

"Mk? You okay bud?" He hears Pigsy ask just outside his door.

Fuck what was he supposed to do?? He didn't want Pigsy to worry about him, MK already had trouble enough as it is controlling his powers and the last thing he needed was Pigsy to have another reason to think he couldn't handle being the monkie kid.

"I'm fine!!!" He hiccups and covers his mouth and kneels on the floor as if making himself smaller would make the problem go away.

Don't cry. Don't cry. not now.

"You sure?" Pigsy asked, and the handle jiggled.

"Don't come in!!"

But it's too late. The door is open and MK is exposed to Pigsy. Blue eyes meet his Amer ones.

Two beats pass as they just stare at each other. Pigsy's lips part slowly

"Wow…"

His voice is breathless in awe.

MK blinks surprised by this reaction. Normally Pigsy hated all the monkey business that came with his powers. This was probably the first time he reacted with interest.

Pigsy is kneeling before MK now and his hands are touching his face. Studying him like a cartographer with a topographic map. talented fingers cup his face and then fingers trail across his nose with innocent fascination.

MK snuffs under the touch and he can't suppress how his nose twitched. With Pigsy this close he can smell him a million times better.

He smells like home.

Spices, cloves, and something earthy like fresh dirt after a storm.

It's soothing and MK hardly even noticed the curious hands making their way up to his ears.

MK feels his ears twitch under the curious gaze and Pigsy's mouth pulls up in a smirk.

"Hehh…" he laughs once under his breath at the reaction.

"You look like me when I was younger!" Pigsy beams at MK and something equally bright ignites in his chest.

So MK wasn't imagining it. He did look like Pigsy. No correction. He looked like he was related to Pigsy.

Like he was family.

MK had seen other pigmen demons like Pigsy around the city, there was one right across the street after all, as their unofficial noodle shop rival.

MK had learned very quickly that not all of them looked the same. Some were much taller, some shorter, some had a light fuzz all over their body like boars and some didn't. Their snouts could range in length and curl.

Some had tusks and others kept them short on purpose. They came in all shades and sizes much like humans.

So if MK transformed into a pig boy because of his monkey kid powers wouldn't he have his own unique features?

Did he subconsciously transform himself to look closely related to Pigsy?

MK grabs the hem of his shirt and twists it nervously and bites his lip deep in thought. Would it be so bad if he did though? To look like he was related to Pigsy means maybe...maybe he would see him more like a son?

"Is this why you rushed up here without saying hello earlier?" Pigsy asked and MK nods guiltily. Pigsy's eyes flit across his face studying him with a quirked brow and then his eyes widen with realization.

MK ducks his head and then nods his head with shame. He hears Pigsy tisk under his breath and swears.

"Sorry…"

"No! Don't apologize, you have nothing to apologize for ." Pigsy grabs either side of MK’s face forcing him to look at him.

"It's okay, we can figure this out and change you back. We can break this curse" He reassures the delivery boy with a smile.

Something settling in his stomach like a rock. Pigsy thought it was a curse...and not one of MKs faulty powers.

He didn't know he could probably change back if he wanted. He Probably could just transform back if he tried a bit harder and believed in himself or whatever monkey king always said.

But Pigsy didn't know that.

And MK decides something quickly. He didn't want them to know that.

"Y-yeah! We can break the curse together!" He plastered on a fake smile and swallowed down the guilt of his deceit.

Would it be so bad if he looked like Pigsy? Would it be so terrible and sinful to want people to think they were closely related? Pigsy didn't have to know he was lying to him, he could just...milk this feeling for a few days and then fake the curse-breaking.

No one would be hurt from that right? Maybe he could even get closer to Pigsy this way.

He feels Pigsy pat his back with a smile. MK feels his guilt grow in his stomach at it.

"Let's get you some food. I'm sure you're starving." Pigsy chuckles helping MK to his feet. Pigsy wraps an arm around MK leading him out of the bathroom.

The warmth and joyful presence of Pigsy was almost enough to overshadow the guilt.

Almost.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Hex Life

Fandom: WandaVision Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Jimmy Woo Rating: E Chapters: 10/10 Word Count: 34k

Summary: Guest starring Agent James E. Woo as himself and introducing Dr. Darcy Lewis as Mrs. Darcy Woo!

Or: Darcy and Jimmy are sent into the Hex to retrieve Captain Monica Rambeau. Finding out Westview has cast them as a married couple is only the first of the surprises that await them.

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten

this fic is now complete!

Jimmy’s going to be a dad. He was going to be a dad in a black-and-white sitcom world and now he’s going to be a dad in a world on the regular spectrum, so the colours really aren’t as big a deal as his impending fatherhood. Possible fatherhood. As much as he’s always secretly wanted his own little Jimmy Woo Jr., he didn’t know if it would be in the cards for him—pun obviously intended—and the last thing he wants to do is influence Darcy either way, especially since he’s only known her a couple days and doesn’t have a clue if a baby was really part of her life plan.

It can’t just be rose-coloured glasses making him see his wife warming to the idea though; when she continues down the hall ahead of Jimmy and Monica, he spots her careful cradling of the baby bump. He can barely stand not touching her. The instinct to shelter others has always been one of his strongest and now he feels it intensely. He longs to protect Darcy, to hold Darcy, to love— Well. Jimmy clears his throat at the very thought and Monica gives him a suspicious side-eyed glance.

“Dry throat,” he lies, tapping his neck in a probably highly unconvincing gesture.

“Uh huh.”

Yeah, she doesn’t sound convinced.

He’s rescued by a burst of sound from the bedroom and dashes ahead of Monica in case Darcy’s in trouble. When he bangs the bedroom door fully open, she’s fine. She’s laughing. He sighs and looks where she points. The queen-sized mattress they shared has changed back to a pair of narrower beds.

“Seriously,” Jimmy says flatly.

“Well, the big bed worked its magic,” Darcy concedes. She pats her rounded stomach. “Mission accomplished.”

“Aw jeeze.”

Ignoring his distress, she sits on the end of the closest bed.

“What I like is that they’re magically made. I didn’t end up having to change the sheets. This is really the next step in home technology.”

“Honey, don’t encourage the magical forces that control our home décor,” he pleads, beckoning until Darcy rises and takes his outstretched hand.

“Better than getting on their bad side. In the AI uprising, you wanna make sure you’re friends with the robots.”

This is an outrageous statement coming from a credible scientist, so Jimmy squints down at her for a minute before saying, “Thanks, house,” aloud, just in case appeasing the Hex now saves him from being closed into a room with no door later, if the walls rearrange to form the ’70s model of their current home.

“You did the smart thing,” Darcy assures him.

As they leave the room, she keeps hold of his hand. He shoots adoring glances at her.

“Hey, Monica,” she says, calling to their guest, who seems to have gone to investigate the walk-in closet. “Accommodations aren’t going to be a problem. I can give you some pajamas too because I think I own at least a dozen pairs, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered…”

But when they look in the closet it’s… not a closet.

“Or maybe the Hex destroyed all my pajamas and I should take back my overtures of friendship,” Darcy corrects.

“Welcome to your nursery,” Monica says. “I’m guessing from the look on Jimmy’s face that this is new.”

It’s spartan, but there’s no doubt in Jimmy’s mind that the room is now intended to be exactly what Monica said. There’s a crib in pieces on the carpet and a rocking chair in the corner. Though he can’t remember this room having even one window, there are now two. The blinds are drawn against the night and curtains patterned with stars and streaking comets hang from a rod mounted above the window. Automatically, he pulls Darcy into his side. He feels her rest her head on his shoulder.

“Man, the Hex is really giving us the hard sell,” she comments.

Just like that, he’s guiding her around by her upper arms and propelling her from the room. He glances over his shoulder to see Monica following with an amused smile. At his nod, she pulls the door shut.

“Ignore it,” Jimmy tells Darcy. “Don’t let that room influence you.”

“Oh, like that’s easy.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know it’s hard not to picture reading Jimmy Junior to sleep in his crib, or watching him learn to roll himself over on the carpet, or cuddling him in your arms in the rocking chair as the morning light—”

“Jimmy Junior?” Darcy asks, interrupting Jimmy’s rapidly solidifying daydream.

“You know what? I’m starving,” Monica announces, putting a hand on each of their shoulders to head off the awkward pause. “How about you two show me some hospitality? I’ve had a long day of being mind-controlled.”

“How ’bout some comfort food?” he asks. “I make a mean bowl of chili.”

“Sounds great.”

So, Jimmy cooks for them. His attention is unequally divided between the simmering pot, Monica leaning against the counter next to him as she recounts the scene at the meeting when Wanda went to take his call, and Darcy sifting pickily through the contents of their fridge. He glances over after putting the lid on the pot to let the chili finish cooking and sees his wife contemplatively holding an egg like it’s Yorick’s skull. Ok, well, he’s just going to leave her to her thoughts.

He sets bowls of chili for himself and Monica on the dining room table. Darcy, justifiably finnicky, takes longer to decide what she’ll be able to stomach, reflexively rubbing the baby bump as she plunders their kitchen. Finally, she comes to sit down. She’s brought a spoon. That’s it. Jimmy’s going to ask, but Darcy just scoots her chair close to his and takes intermittent mouthfuls of his serving while the conversation continues on. He sighs in unannoyed exasperation and alternates dips of his spoon with hers.

It’s just another weird routine they’ve settled into, and like everything else, it didn’t take long.

“You two didn’t know each other before this assignment, right?” Monica checks, motioning between Darcy and Jimmy with a slice of buttered toast.

“No, why?” Darcy asks, dropping a chunk of tomato from her spoon onto his. (Apparently, she doesn’t like tomatoes.)

Monica smiles and says, “No reason.”

She seems ready to accept them as they are, whatever they are. She goes back over the events of this afternoon for Darcy’s benefit—who was zoned out staring at an egg at the time—then the three of them turn to talk of tomorrow. What does Monica feel she needs to try before she’s willing to concede and leave the Hex with them? What can she try? How can Jimmy and Darcy assist her? They talk themselves in a circle of possibilities, limitations, and Monica’s unswerving negative answer to suggestions of her leaving the Hex without getting through to Wanda. Eventually, they decide that the best plan may be no plan, since they’re up against Westview’s ever-shifting magical properties.

“We’ll get up in the morning and see what the world looks like,” Monica says.

Jimmy’s going to reply when the Captain’s expression alters.

“Are you remembering?” Darcy asks her astutely. Monica stares at her. “I don’t want to pry, I’ve just seen that look on a lot of people’s faces lately. People who came back.”

“This isn’t dissimilar,” Monica admits. “When I get anywhere near Wanda or the other characters with speaking parts and start to lose control to… Geraldine—” Jimmy thinks the look on her face is both disgusted and deeply hurt. “—I do get this feeling like the world is going on without me. Only I’m there. I’m right there. I haven’t made up my mind yet if it’s worse than being gone entirely then coming back to find nothing’s the same.”

“Yeah,” Darcy says, soft, sympathetic.

“I don’t know what else the members of this community have been through, but I know I don’t want them to have to keep going through this too. I can’t imagine how tight Wanda’s grip is on the people who were here when she started this. Not sure I’m qualified to be the one to tell her how to let go of her grief and move on.”

Monica blinks quickly and gives a forced smile.

“That was good chili, Jimmy.”

He nods in thanks because he can’t find the right words to say.

They’re all carrying something and Jimmy thinks about that as the three of them clean up, then splinter off to get ready for bed, tired for different and shared reasons. (He changes into his pajamas in the nursery—they found their clothing in a new, regular-sized closet in the bedroom—while Monica and Darcy take the bathrooms.) The Captain’s carrying her recent bereavement and the unignorable sense of responsibility she feels to help Wanda and the Westviewers, possibly precisely because she isn’t ready to confront her own loss. Darcy’s doing some literal carrying with the baby bump her pajama top is buttoned over when she steps out of the en suite bathroom to let Jimmy in to brush his teeth. She’s an astrophysicist who, while studying a television diversion from reality, was brought rudely back to earth by circumstances as real as they come.

What Jimmy’s carrying is actually carrying him: his hope. It’s a good thing to have in his line of work, but a tough thing to keep when the world’s been through what it has. A baby is the least likely and most longed-for thing he would’ve confessed to wanting if someone asked him what was missing from his life.

When it’s acknowledged through awkward glances that, yes, Monica’s taking one of the beds and Jimmy and Darcy will share the other, he climbs under the covers his wife holds open for him. She rolls away from him to lie on her side and he gets comfortable on his back. The Hex has definitely eased up on what it wants for their romantic development because this is the first time he’s been in bed with Darcy and not felt himself caving to the need to have sex with her. Oh, the desire to touch her is as powerful as ever, but the kind of touching he craves is as tender as the flesh of that peach he brought her earlier in the day.

But he doesn’t want to crowd her. Figuratively or literally. Between finding Monica and calling Wanda, making love to Darcy all afternoon and being presented with her pregnant belly in the evening, it’s been a dog’s breakfast of a day. The mission abruptly became just the second most daunting thing he needs to pull off. Now, he’s driven by the impulse to be near Darcy. She doesn’t know it, but she’s drawing him in like gravity and he can only cross his fingers for a soft landing.

Jimmy almost jumps when she reaches for him in the dark, hand feeling behind her until it finds his. She drags his arm over her and he flips onto his side to make it easier. Though Darcy lets him go when his arm’s around her, he doesn’t know where to rest his hand. Tentatively, he places it over her belly and she wriggles back into him. Heart bursting, he holds her more securely to his body, smooths his hand over the bump, and soon falls asleep.

—

The floor wakes him up. He’s just fallen out of bed.

Disoriented, Jimmy sits up in a tangle of comforter and squints at his bed companion in the morning light. They must’ve repositioned while they slept, but that alone wasn’t what forced him to and over the edge—he can see the shape of Darcy’s belly beneath the sheet. It’s noticeably larger than it was yesterday.

He’s still trying to come to terms with that when she sleepily grasps the comforter and yanks it back over her body. Jimmy chuckles and rises into a stretch. Monica’s bed is empty and neatly made, so she must be up already. Before entering the Hex, his internal clock was strict too. Since, he bends to the needs of his subconscious, which seems happiest when it’s allowed to sleep in, particularly if Darcy’s warming the sheets next to him. This is only their third day in Westview and the second time waking up here, but it feels wonderfully routine. As satisfying as completing his consistently-timed morning run or pouring exactly the right amount of milk into his cereal.

Although he’d like to let Darcy sleep, it’s weird now because he’s staring. Anyway, they need to tighten up their operations even further today if they’re going to get out of here soon. Monica requires either success or closure with Wanda, so Jimmy’s determined to help with that. And if Darcy’s pregnancy takes another leap forward, well… that’s another time crunch to consider.

She’s lying on her side, facing him, belly in the space where he fell asleep. Gently, he brushes hair out of her face and strokes lightly up and down her arm.

Darcy gives him a murmured “Hi” with her eyes still shut.

“You gonna get up?”

“Inaminute,” she promises, words running together.

“Alright.”

Jimmy hovers for a second, then darts down to kiss her forehead. She pats his shoulder clumsily in response.

He might as well have had his own eyes shut, blind to everything but Darcy, because it takes opening his wardrobe to realize Monica was correct—everything’s changed again. WandaVision has embraced the ’70s. The shirts and suits he was pretty comfortable with have been traded out. Those items still exist, but now they’re aggressively patterned. There are flared pant legs. There is so much corduroy. Out of the row of shoes tucked into the bottom on his side of the closet, half have platform heels.

“Oh god,” Jimmy groans softly, sifting through for something that won’t feel too much like a cheesy costume.

He ends up with jeans—his only pair of pants without a pattern—and a striped shirt with wide lapels. The Hex’s makeover of his closet has him so beaten down that he doesn’t even pick out a jacket. He doesn’t have the heart for business casual. At the sight of a long-sleeved jumpsuit, Jimmy closes the closet door securely. They have to get out of here. This will be the thing that breaks him.

Slouching into the bathroom, he drops his selections on the counter and takes a shower. As he washes his hair, his fingers slow their scrubbing. Is his hair… longer? He finishes quickly and steps out to find the mirror fogged with steam. He wipes it clean with his forearm, examining his reflection. This place isn’t through with him yet: the Hex has given him a mustache.

Jimmy screams.

“Fine!” Darcy shouts back to his wordless noise of dismay. “I’m up! God, you could’ve just set an alarm and OH MY GOD, HAVE YOU SEEN THE SIZE OF THIS BABY BUMP?!”

He sighs on behalf of himself and his wife, slicks his too-long wet hair back with a comb, then starts in on shaving off the mustache. It immediately grows back.

“Come on,” he complains, cursing the Hex. “Why’d you give me a razor then?!”

Luckily, his annoyance fades the minute he sees Darcy. She’s swearing up a storm about needing to pee and her head looking too small for her body because the Hex has straightened her hair, but he takes all of her restless irritation in with a dazed smile on his face. Adjusting her glasses—now almost circular, with rounded off corners—she catches sight of his new look and erupts into laughter. Whatever the Hex does to mess with their appearance, at least they’re each other’s best medicine to combat it.

“I don’t want to be insensitive,” Monica starts when they walk into the kitchen hand in hand, “but are you significantly more pregnant than you were yesterday?”

Jimmy watches Darcy nod and slips away from her to throw some more bread in the toaster from the bag Monica’s left out on the counter for them.

“You’d think it’s just this big, shapeless dress,” Darcy says, “but no.” She pulls the fabric taut over her stomach to show the size of her belly more accurately. “I don’t want to say it, but the size of this thing makes me think the Hex is leaving me room to grow.”

“And if that dress is only for today…” Monica says.

“Jeepers,” Jimmy concludes.

They eat together in their reconfigured living room. It’s not until Monica’s kicked back in one of their low chairs, ankle propped on her opposite knee, that Jimmy notices her patterned pants.

“Those aren’t from Darcy’s closet are they?”

“No. I’m assuming they’re my clothes from yesterday with the matter recycled for a new decade. Believe me, this outfit wouldn’t have been my choice if I had anything else to pick from.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. I had a whole closet and still ended up with this,” Jimmy says, motioning to himself.

“My retro Secret Agent Man,” Darcy states admiringly, leaning her head over to bump against his shoulder. Ok, he thinks, smiling at her, I can be alright with this for her.

When Monica rises to turn on the television, Jimmy realizes this is the first time they’ve had one in the house. He remembers seeing a set in the Vision residence when he and Darcy were watching an episode on the S.W.O.R.D. base, but he didn’t notice the lack once they got here. Probably because that first night was taken up with flirting, and then yesterday was split between scouring the downtown for Monica and holing up in the bedroom with Darcy. Watching the screen buzz to life now is like witnessing something truly futuristic and spectacular.

“Well, whaddaya know,” he says as the opening sequence of WandaVision begins.

“You think the TVs in here play anything else?” Darcy wonders aloud.

“Maybe not,” Monica says distractedly as they all turn their attention to Wanda and Vision’s adorable antics—the ice cream, the tandem bicycle. “It’s a pretty big coincidence that this show started right when I turned it on.”

“I can see an even bigger coincidence.”

There’s no need to guess what Darcy means. Wanda’s baby bump is obvious in nearly every shot of the introduction, particularly emphasized when she and Vision dance together, his hand on her belly. It’s all maternity clothes and Vision reading pregnancy books and while it’s wholesome, it’s also chilling.

“We’re doing the same plot,” Jimmy says.

“It’s like we’re… their understudies,” Darcy agrees, shrinking back into the cushions.

“Maybe Wanda figured, if you two wanted to be in the show so bad, she’d put you in the show,” Monica theorizes. “Her show. Exactly the way she’s living it.”

“So she’s teaching us a lesson? On what? Abstinence?”

“Could be a misguided attempt to gain your sympathy.”

“Or it really is all about control,” Jimmy suggests, cynical after the reveal that the pregnancy that’s upended his entire life isn’t really theirs. It’s not original. They’re following a Newlywed Couple template.

“Hey,” Darcy says, grabbing his arm, “this wasn’t all Wanda. She might’ve set the scene and, yeah, maybe we were more the goatherd puppets than we were Fraulein Maria and Captain von Trapp, but we did this.” She pulls his hand to her belly. “Wanda doesn’t decide what we do next.”

“What I suggest you not do next is consult Dr. Misogyny over here,” Monica says, gesturing at the television.

The doctor is condescending to Wanda and Vision about the facts of life during a checkup (in their living room?). He lowers himself even further in Jimmy’s regard when he refers to expectant mothers as “little ladies” and implies that the changes in their own bodies are beyond their understanding.

“What a quack,” he decides. “We’re not going to see that guy.” He’s startled to recall his promise to Darcy the previous evening, about options, his intention not to make up her own mind for her. Lowering his voice, he tilts his head close to hers. “I mean, we’ll do whatever you want. Including…”

Jimmy trails off and casts his eyes down. He still means it, wants Darcy on board with this 100% or not at all, but the whole thing’s been a roller coaster and he’s not great at pretending not to feel anything. With his wife so much further into her pregnancy today, it’s obvious that this baby will be born and they’ll need to decide who’s raising it. He thinks the two of them together could rear a pretty incredible kid, but if she wants out, is he prepared to be a single parent? The other option besides her, him, or both of them raising the baby is adoption. They’d need to leave the Hex before taking those steps (it’s not like he’s going to encourage Darcy to hand the baby over to a mind-controlled Westviewer), and just thinking about it, with everything he already feels for the baby, makes him certain that he’d rather rearrange his entire life than pass on this chance at a family. However unorthodox their beginnings.

“Don’t worry,” Darcy says calmly, pulling him from his spiral. “That guy will never get the chance to compare my uterus to a vegetable garden.”

“Fruit,” Monica corrects without looking away from the television.

“Right. Fruit. He’ll have no say about any of it. And he definitely won’t get the opportunity to be patronizing as fuck while he tries to give us the sex talk.” She looks Jimmy right in the eye and says, “I won’t let the asshole doctor-man say a word about your banana.”

Chuckling, he looks back to the screen. The doctor has departed and Vision’s currently baffled over Wanda’s newly expanded stomach. Uh oh. He jerks his head around to check and, yep, Darcy’s baby bump appears to be keeping up with the sitcom star’s.

“You two stay here,” Monica instructs, on her feet when Jimmy glances over.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“To Wanda’s. If things continue at this rate, she could give birth in this episode. That’s going to make her even more protective of her family and her space and I’ll have an even harder time getting near her.”

“Are you sure you want to interrupt?”

They both glance at the television for a moment to observe Wanda and Vision debating baby names in the nursery. There’s nothing distressing about the scene—in fact, the couple looks as much at ease as Jimmy’s seen them on the show—but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t change, and quickly, if Monica inserted herself. He just isn’t sure how that would go and he doesn’t like any plan where he can’t foresee all the possible outcomes.

“Guess I just have a feeling,” Monica says, looking unsettled.

“Well,” Darcy pipes up, “in the world of science, having a feeling is forming a theory, and in this place… I think having a feeling you should do something might be Wanda giving you your cue.”

“You’re not beyond her control,” Jimmy tells Monica, “just farther away from it. What if Darcy’s right?”

“If Wanda wants me there, I’m not going to resist,” she replies firmly. “She’s the key and we need her cooperation.”

“Good luck,” Darcy bids her.

With a nod to them both, Monica strides across the living room and opens the front door.

“Speaking of keys,” Jimmy recalls, but the door shuts before he can offer to let her borrow their car to get to Wanda’s.

Maybe the Captain has a different plan. Maybe she’s just bending to Wanda’s influence. Whichever it is, he can’t go after her. Monica was right—he has to stay here with Darcy today, especially because her belly seems larger when he looks again. He glances at her face with a question on his and she nods.

“And I felt a kick,” she says.

“Really? Could I…? Do you think I could…?”

Darcy rolls her eyes at his reticence and guides both his hands to the bump. When he feels something nudge his palm, Jimmy tears up.

“That’s our baby,” Darcy confirms.

“Feels like they have my softball windup,” he murmurs.

“Or my pre-coffee restlessness.”

“Our baby,” Jimmy repeats, staring into her eyes—finally blue for the first time in days, give or take a decade.

They’re having a marvelous family moment until the power goes out. Lights, TV, the hum of the fridge in the kitchen, everything. Seconds later, it all comes back.

“That was strange.”

“I wondered what Wanda’s magic was doing to the power grid,” Darcy says. “I’m still curious about the finer points of what happens when electricity meets power generated by an Infinity Stone. Really, I’d expect Wanda to have this kinda thing under control, but I guess if she’s— Ugh!”

Her pained noise has Jimmy cupping her face, pushing back her hair, trying to figure out what happened.

“She’s distracted,” she says.

“By what?”

“Labour.”

“What? No.”

Sure enough, when Darcy stands (with Jimmy leaping to his feet to support her) and stretches her back, her bump looks big enough to contain a baby that’s almost ready to be born. Ready to be born?! Jimmy thinks. In our house? With no doctor? Just because the one on TV rubbed him the wrong way doesn’t mean he’s prepared to write off every doctor, nurse, and midwife in Westview. He would very much like to place responsibility for this delivery in the hands of a medical professional, not his own!

Even as the TV’s flickering back to life, he helps Darcy away from it. That just shows how serious things are. He knows how quickly she became invested in the sitcom when they reviewed the ’50s episode at the base.

After some frantic thought, he’s thinking the bathtub is going to have to do. People do that right? With home births? Although he attempts to guide Darcy in that direction, she doesn’t even want to sit down on the edge, let alone climb in. No, she wants to pace, and as she paces, she rubs at her lower back, wincing.

“We could look at the nursery,” he proposes. “Might take your mind off it.”

Jimmy knows it could be a weak suggestion, an insult to imply that anything could take Darcy’s mind off whatever discomfort she’s currently feeling, but the Hex, with its radioactive walls, smiles down on them for once. With his arm around her to take some of her weight, they hobble into the baby’s room and it’s… perfect.

The walls are dark blue near the ceiling, almost black, fading to periwinkle halfway down the wall. The lower portion transitions from blue to pale yellow, then a blazing orange right before the baseboard.

“It’s a sunrise,” he comprehends.

“Yeah,” Darcy says softly.

Though he feels like he got slightly ripped off by not being allowed a chance to do any of the decorating, he does admire the Hex’s choices. At last, his wife’s been represented in this space, in this house, and it’s beautiful. There’s a shelf full of space-themed board books, a plastic jumble of play versions of scientific tools like telescopes. A dangling mobile of the planets. After easing his wife into the rocking chair, Jimmy holds up a pack of glow-in-the-dark stars.

“Should I put these up?”

She smiles.

“I would be all over that shit if I could, but I trust you to do a good job.”

“Oh no. Do you want me to do real constellations?”

“The baby’s not gonna know the difference. Make it look however you want.”

She rocks, assuring him something about the motion is helping her manage the intensifying pain of her contractions, and Jimmy finds a small stepping stool to help him reach the ceiling. The sway of the chair in the corner of his eye, the morning light through the curtains, and the sound of Darcy breathing are things he already knows he’ll never forget.

Before he’s stuck all the stars in the pack to the ceiling’s white paint, she calls him down from the stool.

“I need to walk again.”

Darcy says it with grit and Jimmy doesn’t argue, even when walking appears to put her in even more distress; she groans and pushes her free hand against the wall as they stroll out of the nursery and down the hallway.

“Let’s check in with Wanda,” Jimmy says helplessly.

This is who he is now: a husband in over his head, desperate to gain tips about delivering a baby from a TV sitcom. An overwhelmed real estate agent. A man with a mustache.

They return to the living room and the TV playing WandaVision in time for Monica’s entrance. Based on her free use of ’70s slang and the general discord between the Captain Rambeau Jimmy’s been getting to know and the woman on the screen, he knows they’re looking at Geraldine. Wanda’s back in control of her character alright, and Jimmy wants to know who it’s helping. The scene’s centered around some joke about Wanda attempting to hide her pregnancy, which is no good for him. He needs a step-by-step guide, not a magic-resistant stork!

“There better not be a fucking bird in here,” Darcy gripes, alternately crouching and standing as every position fails to make her comfortable. “If I see a fucking, goddamn, sonofabitch, motherfucking—”

“I know, sweetie, I know,” Jimmy assures her, rubbing circles between her shoulder blades with the flat of his hand.

“The betrayal,” she mutters when Wanda elects to lie down behind a couch.

It completely blocks their view. If this were a regular show, Jimmy would understand that. Sitcom viewers would definitely appreciate a little TV magic over graphic, up-close-and-personal birth footage, but here at the Woo residence, one FBI agent and his astrophysicist wife really just want the truth! If Monica had agency, he’s sure she’d shove the couch aside to help them out, but with Geraldine at the helm, he’s confronting the fact that he and Darcy are on their own.

“Let’s go, Darcy,” he says, steering her towards the bathroom. “We don’t need her.”

“Are you sure?”

He’s never heard Darcy sound so uncertain and knows he’ll have to bluff his way through this. When the Avengers aren’t around, the regular people must step up. Reminding himself of that has gotten Jimmy through more than one tough day on the job and he tells himself it’ll get them both through this.

“Of course.”

In the bathroom, Darcy kicks out of her underwear and uses Jimmy as a crutch to climb into the tub. Her face is scrunched up severely and her hands are braced against the walls of the bathtub, so he tries to watch and understand what she needs. When all the tension in her face and body burst out in a shout, he grabs her hand. Her fingers curl around his palm in a death grip.

“How about some nice warm water? Water, Darcy?”

She nods rapidly, eyes clenched shut, and he turns on the facet, then quickly reaches behind her to plug the drain. The stream wets his sleeve and, when he withdraws his arm, hits her hair around the level of her shoulders and begins to soak the back of her dress. Between contractions, Darcy sighs in what sounds like relief.

“That feels good,” she acknowledges.

“Good,” is all Jimmy can say back. He kisses her face and squeezes her hand in his. “Good.”

He’s back to scrambling for a solution soon enough when the warm flow of water down her back stops being enough to soothe her. He helps her out of her sodden dress, tossing it behind him to splat on the tile floor.

“What do you need?” he asks wildly, leaning over the tub.

“Earplugs,” Darcy tells him before emitting a scream shrill enough to probably be heard by their neighbour’s dog, Dipper, down the street.

Jimmy doesn’t think, he just does. Snatching a towel off the rail, bracing his wife’s foot against his shoulder as her leg spasms, reaching into the water to collect their baby when the Hex (he assumes) does them the favour of letting one long push be sufficient to expel him. Him. Jimmy and Darcy’s son.

He’s beaming through the happy tears, delicately wiping at the wailing baby with the towel and passing him into Darcy’s outstretched arms as she shakes with astonished laughter, hair wet, head resting back against the jut of the faucet.

“That wasn’t so hard,” he jokes.

Darcy sits up, sending a splash of water over the side of the bathtub to slap the floor, and he knows the Hex is interfering again to make her capable of anything besides exhaustion after what she just accomplished. She twists sideways in the tub until she’s closer to Jimmy. He wraps an arm around her wet shoulders and peers down at the face of their boy, already drowsy after exercising his tiny lungs. Jimmy can feel Darcy studying his face.

“Jimmy Woo Junior?” she asks.

And he knows the rest is going to be gravy.

—

Inside the Hex, the magic of television is real. They didn’t need to fake Darcy’s pregnancy with a cushion to make her belly, round and taut as a beach ball, disappear entirely only minutes after giving birth. They didn’t need a set of twins or triplets playing Jimmy Woo Jr. to swap in a quiet baby for one that starts to cry. There’s no trick lighting or fudged angles, just Darcy sitting on the couch (in dry, non-maternity clothes) catching their amazingly calm, less than an hour-old son up on the details of his origin story—Darcy’s wording.

It’s shaping up to be a nice, if highly unusual, family day in, until the tension starts to mount on-screen. Probably something Jimmy could’ve caught sooner if he weren’t spending 50 seconds out of every minute stroking the baby’s teeny-weeny hands while he hopes Jimmy Jr. retains zero memory of his dad’s mustache. When he hears Monica mention Wanda’s brother by name, he’s fully alert to the episode and knows he has to act. That close to Wanda, Monica’s control should be fully suppressed beneath the character of Geraldine. If she’s breaking through to ask Wanda person questions, questions that are almost definitely going to provoke an emotional response, Monica must be fighting like crazy to surface. Jimmy decides that’s his signal to get over there and help bring this thing to a satisfying conclusion so they can all leave the Hex.

“You’re not going to Wanda’s without me,” Darcy informs him, planted in front of the door when Jimmy returns from grabbing his keys.

“Darcy, you can’t. The baby. I’d stay with him and let you go, but I’ve never heard you mention particular skill in hand-to-hand combat and I can’t guarantee things won’t turn violent.”

She snorts.

“Liar. I could be the world’s biggest hand-to-hand badass and you’d still be trying to protect me right now.”

He stares at her and Darcy stubbornly lifts her chin as she holds his eyes.

“Ok,” Jimmy concedes, “yes, I would.”

“Please don’t leave us here,” she says, cheek pressed to the baby’s. No, no, no, he can already feel himself wanting to surrender, to have them with him. Darcy kisses their son’s face, then holds his hand to gesture while she pitches her voice higher, pretending to speak for Jimmy Jr. “I want to meet Auntie Monica.”

He gives her a look and reaches past her to open the door. Instead of trying to exit around his family, he waves Darcy through ahead of him. (She looks down at the baby in her arms and goes “Yaaaay! Isn’t Daddy a soft touch?”)

“You didn’t persuade me,” he says, leading them to the car and holding the door for Darcy while she climbs into the back seat with the baby. “This is strategic.”

“Is the strategy common sense? I feel like you should’ve gone with that from the beginning. Bringing a scientist to a magic fight is good thinking, for, like, balance and shit.”

Jimmy backs down the driveway as gently as he can. Their car’s been modernized (well, for the latest decade) and while it now has seatbelts, it wasn’t equipped with a car seat for their son. He’s going to have to drive with the utmost care.

“Hopefully, there won’t be a fight,” he reminds Darcy, “but if there is, you won’t be anywhere near it. You and Jimmy Junior are staying in the car. Alright?”

When he darts his gaze to the rear-view mirror, he sees his wife looking out her window, making a show of not listening to him. Jimmy sighs.

Without thinking, he navigates back to the street where they dropped Monica off yesterday. Wanda’s house is just down from Dottie’s; he remembers the number from watching WandaVision. Jimmy draws up to the curb and parks. He glances back at Darcy, but she’s still ignoring him.

“I’ll try to be right back,” he tells her anyway, eyes dropping longingly to the serene face of his sleeping son. He’s heard that about babies and car rides.

Jogging up the driveway, he does a doubletake of a ragged slash in the wall between Wanda’s property and her neighbour’s. There’s not exactly anything wrong with a damaged cinderblock or an amateur handyman job, but the crevice in the stone stands out in a world so aggressively styled and manicured.

Wishing for the reassurance of his gun at his hip in case things go south (it’s the first time he’s even thought about the gun since the night he and Darcy arrived), Jimmy enters the Vision residence without knocking.

Orienting himself to what he was just watching on TV in a house less than a mile from here, he walks across the entryway, attracting the attention of both Wanda and Monica. They’re standing across from each other in the living room. Raising his hands to show he intends no harm, Jimmy sweeps his eyes over the scene in assessment, like he has a hundred times before. Monica’s expression is alarmed under superficial friendliness—the look of someone trying to placate an attacker. With her aggressive, forward-leaning posture and the way she’s positioned herself between Monica and the cribs (he’s surprised to see more than one, but he did miss some of the episode while he was delivering his son in their bathtub), Wanda fits that role.

“Wanda,” he says, taking a step towards the seating area, “you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Are you working with her?” Wanda demands. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”

“James Woo. I’m not here to hurt you. Neither is Geraldine.”

“You don’t want to hurt me? Then why do you come asking questions? Saying things—” He can see her chin wobble from here as she teeters on the edge of tears. “—about Pietro. You didn’t know my brother.”

Her statement is directed at Monica, but Jimmy tries to bring her focus back to him. Of himself and the Captain, he’s the one with an exit at his back, whereas Monica’s hemmed in by a large bookcase.

“I didn’t know your brother,” Jimmy agrees. “I do know about him, but we don’t need to talk about that. I don’t want to upset you, Wanda, I just want you to let me leave with Geraldine.”

“Oh, I’ll let you leave,” Wanda says, cocking her head as she raises her hands. This motion conveys the opposite meaning to Jimmy’s—she does intend them harm.

He’s contemplating what’ll happen if he tries to rush her when Darcy charges through the front door he left open.

“Don’t!” Jimmy gasps, making a grab for her, but his body is tense with caution and Darcy has the momentum to dodge him, stepping down the level into the living room.

“Look,” Darcy demands of Wanda, whose expression is torn as she chooses between facing Monica and this new intruder.

Jimmy’s mentally composing and rejecting ideas of how to proceed when their unwelcoming host lowers her hands. She’s looking where Darcy directed her to, at the baby in Darcy’s arms.

“He was born less than an hour ago, and I only found out I was pregnant yesterday, but that doesn’t matter. I know it’s the same for you, the circumstances and the… yeah, whatever. You know about the Big Bang, right?” she continues, jumping to the next thought.

“Yes,” Wanda says carefully.

Jimmy’s terrified to move closer and set Wanda on the offensive again. He glances at Monica, who seems to be thinking the same thing, frozen in place.

“From nothing to so much, in an instant,” Darcy’s saying in her condensed history of the universe. “Science is supposed to be full of all these rules. Like, every scientist dude important enough to remember had some law or formula or method that we map everything on top of when we’re pretending we understand all this. Being in science isn’t a goal I’ve had for a long time—I mean, I probably wouldn’t be in it now if the world hadn’t more or less ended—and if all I ever heard about the workings of the universe was rules, I would’ve stayed away. Who likes rules, right? Who wants to be told that things are the way they are because something outside of your control says so? My point is…”

She takes a deep breath, then another one, shifting until she’s blocking Wanda’s expression from Jimmy’s view.

“Sorry, I just gave birth, you know how it is,” Darcy says when she goes on. Jimmy’s stricken with exasperation, adoration, fear, and pride. “My point is that I love science because, while science is laws and rules and equations, science is also standing outside at night and staring up at the dark. There are explanations for every light that’s up there and why, even when you’re away from big cities and the sky seems so black and close, you don’t fall up into it, although it kinda feels like you could. Science can tell me why, and it still feels like magic when I look at the stars. And we’ve all been traveling out here in space together, getting made and unmade and made again because the right ingredients needed to create something as precious as a planet, or a baby, or the clay that’ll make the bricks that’ll make the house never disappear. Suns explode, asteroids collide and get chipped away… things can separate down to their smallest part, life can…”

“End?” Wanda asks.

Jimmy’s stunned to hear the word come out choked. Cautiously, he leans to get a glimpse of Wanda’s face. It’s covered in tears. Darcy’s nodding.

“But everything’s valuable. All matter gets reused.” Jimmy wants to grab her and pull her to safety when she takes a step closer to Wanda. “I get it if you’re sad and you’re not ready to talk about it. I’m not gonna say it’s ok, because I’ve heard Monica’s testimonial on exactly how much it sucks to have you in her head, but I do think you should let us leave now so you have a few friends out there when you inevitably need people on your side.”

“You can go,” Wanda agrees, swiping at her nose. “I won’t hurt your baby.”

“You’re not going to hurt my friend either,” Darcy says, beckoning for Monica to cross the room behind her. “Or my husband.”

“No,” Wanda says.

Monica reaches Jimmy and they wait for Darcy in the entryway.

“I bet all that control feel really good,” Darcy theorizes. “Taking it into your own hands. But I think you know that focusing on the beautiful, magical stuff doesn’t mean the rules no longer exist. Maybe you can find a way to accept them both.”

“It’s time for you to leave,” Wanda says, firmer now.

“Not looking for a life coach, got it.”

She joins Jimmy and Monica, bouncing the baby lightly in her arms. Wanda ushers them out of the house ahead of her. Jimmy glances back to see her close the door after herself with a twist and red glow of her hands.

“What about waiting in the car?” he mutters to Darcy as they stride down the lawn.

His self-proclaimed wife stares at him.

“I’m not the kind of person who waits in the car. Would the kind of person who waits in the car give a speech like that?”

Jimmy’s at an honest-to-goodness loss for words.

She gets into the car willingly enough now, Jimmy in the passenger’s seat while Monica slides behind the wheel.

“Wanda’s told me how to stand, how to move, how to walk since I got in here,” Monica says, turning the key in the ignition. “I’m driving myself out.”

“It’ll part for you when you get there,” Wanda calls to them from the lawn. “The barrier. I suggest you do not attempt to enter again.”

“I think we’ve all had our fill,” Jimmy informs her cheerfully through his rolled-down window.

She doesn’t respond to this, so Monica executes a three-point turn and takes them back up the street the way they came. From there, they turn out of the subdivision, but Jimmy snags a last look at Wanda through the back window. There’s a light breeze blowing her dress and hair and she looks like she could be anyone. A suburban mom of twins? Why not. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see her again in person, but he has plans to catch her show.

“Wanda’s changed the roads,” Monica says as she drives. For his son’s sake, Jimmy’s grateful that she isn’t speeding, though he wouldn’t blame her for trying to get out of here as quickly as possible. “None of them lead out of town.”

“Literal tourist trap. Brilliant,” Darcy declares from the back seat. Jimmy reaches an arm back blindly and feels her close her hand around his.

“But,” Monica adds, “I remember Ellis Avenue being the closest cross street to the edge of town. We find that, then drive over the grass. Things may get a little bumpy.”

“We’ll survive.”

Jimmy twists around to look at Darcy. He nods. They will. They’ll survive.

They cross Ellis and take the car off-road. The barrier remains invisible, but…

“I can feel it,” Darcy says.

“Like we did the day we came in,” Jimmy recalls.

“It still wants us out,” Monica interprets. He sees her staring uneasily ahead. “Was I naïve to think I could change anything by coming in here?”

“No, Captain. It was brave.”

“Didn’t work though. We aren’t leaving with Wanda.”

“It could work,” Darcy says. “We left her with a few things to think about. We’ll watch WandaVision and see.”

“That’ll be strange after being a part of it.”

“You think so?” Jimmy wonders. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and the sunshine, playing with Darcy’s fingers laced through his. “I think it’s returning to regular life that’s going to feel strange. Out there, it’s easy to see all this as a TV show, but everything in here is real.”

“We’ll make Hayward understand that.”

“I’m bringing back some compelling evidence,” Darcy says, followed by kissy sounds directed at Jimmy Jr.

The air just a couple of car lengths ahead of them abruptly glows red as Wanda reveals the wall of the Hex. Jimmy and Monica exchange a look, but she doesn’t slow down. They pass through without resistance. All of a sudden, it’s night. Monica lets out a relieved sigh.

The S.W.O.R.D. base is looming, exterior lights ablaze, but Jimmy looks backwards, checking that Darcy and the baby are alright.

“Same as you left us,” she says, pulling back the blanket to show him the face of his son.

He gives her a slightly melancholic smile.

“Not quite, Dr. Lewis.”

“I’ll have a lot of work to do,” Darcy notes thoughtfully, “but time for you and me to go on dates will be on my list of demands.”

“You have a list of demands?” Monica asks, laughter in her voice.

“After being forced into the Hex, where I could’ve lost my life? Fuck yes, I have a list.”

“What else are you asking for?”

“The coffee I requested on day one and a desk in a better spot so there’s room next to it for the crib that will also be on my list.”

Monica laughs aloud now.

“Is this a benefits negotiation or a baby shower registry?”

“Let’s get back to the part where we’re going on dates,” Jimmy says. “How’s that going to work?”

“Jimmy, darlin’,” Darcy begins, “will you go out with me?”

He leans to look around his seat at her.

“Darcy, we were married. We have a baby. Don’t you think we can—”

“Answer the question, Agent Woo.”

“Of course I’ll go out with you,” he says.

“And that’s how it works. Easy-peasy.”

She gives his hand a squeeze before releasing it to hold Jimmy Jr. more securely as Monica pulls up to a building and brakes. Already, S.W.O.R.D. agents are rushing out to meet them, but Jimmy drops back against his seat and smiles to himself.

“‘Easy-peasy.’”

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 9 Home? - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I promise I’m going to get to requests. Enjoy the chapter!

WARNING: implied child abuse? (Nothing happens but it can still be uncomfy)

The soft creak of the second story window was the only sound in your shared bedroom. Having been sent upstairs and denied a meal for the millionth time this week, you were desperate for anything to eat. It wasn’t like the orphanage was barely surviving, but honestly you think the caretaker had something out for you. Always picking on you, calling you names, and finding any excuse to punish you. All around known as the caretaker’s personal punching bag.

“Now I can see why you were dropped off here.” She would say, before taking the plate of food from in front of you and dumping it into the trash.

With your lips sealed shut, you trudged up the stairs, sad little eyes tearing up. Any back talk would result in something far worse. The wilts on your back still stung days after your punishment, an example and demonstration of the cruelness of life.

Like a rabid animal, you were willing to receive any kind of punishment just to quiet the pain in your stomach. Grateful for the bushes located underneath your second story window, you swung your legs over the ledge, preparing to jump. With a small humph, you landed softly on your feet. Leaves and small branches pricked at your thighs as you wobbled out of the bushes. You gripped the small pouch of coins in your pocket, running your fingers over the opening of the bag.

A childish dream that a few coins were your ticket to everywhere and anywhere. The city you lived in was labeled as UN-1889, which was far into its development to retain its old name. Unofficially called “Yun” by the locals, it also held the record of absolutely nothing exciting or entertaining. Crime was moderate, chain restaurants and shopping centers were the place of excitement and that was it. Vowing to leave and never come back, you made sure to keep that promise by collecting and stashing away any money you could get your hands on. In the end, the most you had in your possession was enough to buy half a ticket, and you were ready to blow it all off in a matter of minutes on something that will only last seconds.

You spotted the bright, blue neon lights of the only local diner in the area. Parents looking to adopt will do nothing but rave about this place. Hearing just how good the food sounded compared to the gruel you were forced to eat every day, it made your mouth water and your stomach do flips. Jogging up to the entrance, you quickly opened the door to the diner. Air condition hit your dirty, sweaty face, cooling you down instantly. Much to your surprise, there was not one patron in the diner. Leaning against the counter was a middle aged woman with her hair pulled back tightly in a bun. She stared at the TV in the corner, sighing deeply. As the door closed, your presence was made known.

One look was all it took for her to know everything about you.

“Oh great, another one.” She mumbled from where she stood. “What do you want?”

“Food. I’m hungry.” You replied annoyingly.

“Have any money?” She asked, standing up straight.

You dug into your pocket, grabbed the bag of coins and held it out to the waitress. Snatching it out of your hand, she emptied the contents onto the counter. Shifting through the coins lazily, she huffed.

“Kid, this isn’t even enough for a plate.” She poured the coins back into the bag, tossing it back at you. “Door’s over there.”

Too tired and weak to fight, you slumped your way out, disappointed and embarrassed.

“Hey wait!” You heard someone shouting. You turned around, seeing another woman popping out from the kitchen. Her soft, platinum blond curls bounced as she walked out to stop you from leaving. Ringlets of silver hung from her ears and wrists, clanking softly as she motioned you to come closer. “Are you from the orphanage down the street?”

You nodded vigorously.

“I know how she treats those babies over there. You come on over and get yourself something to eat.” She said, tapping on the counter.

“I don’t have enough for-“ you started. She waved her hand, her signal for no ands, if, or buts. As you pranced over, you heard the waitress groan.

“Lou, you can’t be serious.” She muttered.

Lou held her hand up. “I don’t like seeing children go hungry. It’s not right.”

“Pick whatever you like.” She smiled, handing over a menu to you. Everything looked so delicious and tempting. You only see people like this on TV. It seems so fake, portraying kindness in a sickening, sweet way. It was enough to hurt your teeth.

You watched in adoration as Lou passed you a basket of warm rolls, butter shimmering off the golden buns. Forget manners. You gobbled down the bread in minutes, hiccuping softly. You weren’t focused on trying to quiet your hiccups down, just to fill your empty stomach.

“My goodness, slow down.” Lou chuckled, placing a cup of water next to you. “What’s your name, baby?”

“It’s (Y/N).” You replied, mouth still full of bread.

“(Y/N). Now is that your actual name or was it given to you by that devil woman?”

“It’s my actual name. They tried to change it, but decided to keep it.” You said, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Lou handed you a few napkins. “I swear that lady does not like anything or anyone. An all around horrible person.”

You nodded sadly, trying to dissipate the knowledge that you were probably going to receive the harshest punishment you have ever had in your short life when you came back “home”. As your stomach was dropping at the thought of your imminent demise, Lou slid your plate of food in front of you. Eating a basket of rolls wasn’t enough at all. This food looked better than anything you consumed at the orphanage.

While Lou and the waitress babbled and bickered, the static and switch of the TV in the corner was the only noise in the room. Eventually the waitress decided to settle on the local news. Expansion of some parts of the city, a deadly crash near the asteroid belt, and so on and so on. Suddenly, the screen flashed with the words BREAKING NEWS splayed on the screen.

The news reporter quickly tapped through her data pad, smiled and addressed the viewers.

“Good evening, we bring to you some breaking news. The criminal Kedo, who was wanted on both planets Earth and Ganymede for the murders of multiple people, has been caught right here in UN-1889.”

The reporter then drone on about his crimes, and how he left his trail. You chewed slowly, hanging onto every word. Crime was at a middle to low level, but you have never seen something as large as this.

“It has been reported by BIG SHOT, a new TV program broadcasted specially for bounty hunters in the solar system, that Kedo’s bounty had jumped from 500,000 woolong to over a million woolong.” Your eyes widened. To a small child, one million woolong was a whole lot more than what it actually was. You were probably never going to see that sort of money in your lifetime. All the possibilities of having that much money ran through your head. The first was getting the hell out of this city.

“We are informed that the courageous bounty hunter, or huntress, known as Lady Jo, caught Kedo red-handed in hiding right here in UN-1889.” The reporter stated.

The screen switched to live coverage at the police station, cameras flashing and reporters clamoring to get a closer look at the infamous criminal who was now being led into the building in handcuffs. His hair disheveled, eyes scanning his surroundings like crazy, fitting a perfect description of a crazed murderer. The cameras shifted their attention to Jo, standing proudly with her hand resting on her holster.

Intrigue and fascination filled you. You couldn’t help but watch in awe of her. Her auburn hair was curly and volumized, laying softly on her shoulders, eyes a striking green that shone like emeralds in the harsh lights of the TV crews. The waitress scoffed at her outfit, which consisted of a revealing button up white shirt, tucked into black leather pants, with a matching jacket. She was truly a sight to see.

“Can you believe that? She’s not a cowgirl, she’s a goddamn model.” She said.

Lou snorted. “You know, I used to have an outfit just like that.”

You smiled back, finishing your plate. Not wanting to take your eyes off the TV, the silverware clattered loudly onto the plate.

“I’ll tell you what, there is absolutely no honor in being a bounty hunter. They’re rude, selfish, and I hate every last one of them. Especially Lady what’s-her-name right here.” The waitress nagged, taking your empty plate.

“They can do a way better job than actual law enforcement.” Lou retorted.

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation. If there wasn’t any honor I’m your choice, so be it. Your new bottom line was set into place. One million woolong was going to be a possibility for you, one way or another.

-

Jet sat at the navigation console on the bridge, pressing buttons at a lightning fast speed. On his right side was the computer TV, playing some late night television as background noise. Faye stood near the windows, smoking a cigarette and looking out into the nighttime sky. There was something that must have been discussed.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Jet sighed and got up. “I went ahead and placed our coordinates for our next bounty back on Mars. Should only be a week.”

“Dinner was a little off, don’t you think?” Faye said, ignoring Jet.

Jet’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying something about my cooking?”

“What? No. I meant with-“

“With Spike and (Y/N)? Then yes, there is something off with them. I’ve noticed it since we got back home the other day.” Jet said.

“So much more talkative, that’s for damn sure. Couldn’t keep up with it.” Faye replied as she descended the steps to the navigation console.

“The big baby wasn’t all too happy about her staying with us. So I wonder why he’s acting all buddy buddy with her.”

Faye chuckled, a sly upturn of the mouth growing on her face. “Hmm, sounds like someone is jealous.”

Looking up from the console, Jet scoffed. “I’m more than happy that I’m not playing therapist anymore. Everyday it was, “did you see the way she did this” or “did you see the way how she did that”. At that point, I should’ve started charging Spike.”

Faye had given some deep thought since dinner. The outline was in plain sight. A touch on the back. A squeeze on the shoulder. A tap on the thigh. It thrilled Faye to be the only one to know of the growing tension between Spike and (Y/N), to be the one to hold a secret without being told of it. But in the midst of the excitement, there was another feeling circling, weaving it way into her head. Jealousy.

It hurts to see couples walking by, hand in hand, romantically flaunting each other openly. Bothering Faye for a second, she knew she didn’t have to go home with them. But now that it was only a few feet from her, it was going to be a problem.

If the game doesn’t go as planned, someone has to interfere to ensure a win. And Faye did not like losing.

The computer TV turned to static as Jet flipped through the channels, trying to find the right program to end the night on. Settling on tonight’s showing of Big Shot, he leaned against the console, pondering about dinner. A conversation consisting of 100 words and more between Spike and (Y/N) was non-existent for the time that she had been staying on the Bebop. One afternoon alone, and suddenly they’re two peas in a pod.

We’ll just see how it goes, Jet thought.

A big red WARNING sign displayed on the screen, waking Jet and Faye right up.

“Folks, it seems we have an important message to relay to all bounty hunters in the solar system from the ISSP.”Punch said, his playful, exaggerated facade never faltering.

“Go ahead, we are all dying to know!” Judy replied, apparently cheerful about a serious topic at hand.

“Bounty hunters, look out! A mysterious criminal is on the loose, and his target is not the innocent civilians of the solar systems, but our esteemed, hard working hunters.”

“What makes him so bad, anyway?” Judy questioned.

“I’m glad you asked! Some of our amigos already know what we are talking about. There have been multiple reported incidents of hunting vessels being set ablaze with the intent of murder all across the system. The ISSP believes that this individual is ONLY targeting bounty hunters, and no one else.”

“Mysterious you say? Well goodness, looks like there’s no bounty for them yet!”

“Right you are. Until we get a face and a name, no dinero can be placed for the bounty. So be aware, and be safe out there, buckeroos!” Punch finished, smiling alongside Judy. Knowing they were playing a character, it was off putting by the serious news given.

Jet and Faye looked at each other in silence, eyes wide and full of questions.

Happy hunting, amigos.

[lloydskywalkers]

Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

“Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Pretzels and Pop

Been a while since I flashed a clip of my Our Life: Beginnings & Always novelization’s first draft, huh? This time let’s take a peek at part of the Step 1 moment Shopping.

As always, credit for the original wonderful visual novel that fuels so much inspiration in me goes to the game’s creators, @gb-patch.

...

The scent of baked and fried goods, both savory and sweet, wafted through the air, drawing the children’s attention away from the keychain. Cove turned further down the street where he quickly spotted numerous different food carts lined in a row. Most importantly, he saw an array of delicious goodies people were happily eating.

Cove frowned, placing his uninjured arm over his now grumbling tummy as the delicious smells almost seemed to tease him. A quiet rumbling from his side drew his eye to Jamie and he saw she was holding her stomach now as well. “Let’s go get some food.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said with an eager nod. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and she was more than ready for lunch after so much walking around.

The children hurried their footsteps to reach the food vendors quickly, then slowed to consider their options. An array of foods both salty and sweet lay before them, their enticing smells serving to make their stomachs growl louder than before. Everything looked delicious, but they couldn’t sample it all.

After a short discussion considering the merits between foods such as pizza and hot dogs versus snow cones and ice cream, the pair came to a decision and got in line for the pretzel vendor. Cove eagerly ordered a pretzel covered with cinnamon that came paired with a little cup of icing that was far too tempting for him to resist. Jamie almost gave in to that same temptation, but ultimately she chose the pretzel already coated in vanilla icing and adorned with a rainbow’s worth of sprinkles.

Jamie licked her lips as she accepted her colorful treat from the vendor, barely resisting the urge to take a bite before they found someplace to sit. Her moms didn’t want her to eat too much sugar, but it should be fine, she thought; this was a special day and a special outing with Cove after all.

Besides, if Jamie drank milk with it, which was good for her, it would balance out the sugar, right? That’s why she got a carton of milk instead of soda pop like Cove did. She made sure to be the one to carry their drinks for the both of them after tucking her precious keychain away in her pocket, as Cove’s hands were getting pretty full.

The children hurried along to find an empty table for them to sit and eat their tasty treats. Fortune smiled on them as they found one close to the beach, which gave them an unobstructed view of the ocean.

Unfortunately for Jamie, this also meant that it was close enough for sand to cover the ground, and she winced as the chairs made terrible scraping sounds when moved. If her hands weren’t full, she would have covered her sensitive ears, so all she could do was grit her teeth and bear with the pain until they sat down, letting out a sigh of relief when the awful noise stopped.

Cove had been too distracted by setting things down on the table and getting into his seat without letting go of the balloon to notice Jamie’s discomfort for more than a moment before she relaxed. He didn’t know what to make of it, and she brightened up right away, so he supposed it wasn’t anything important.

Besides, there was a bigger issue they had to deal with right now. “These balloons are gonna make it hard to eat,” he said as he looked between the balloon and his pretzel as he tried to puzzle out the problem. He had a difficult enough time carrying everything while trying to keep a hold on the balloon’s string, especially while wearing something as unwieldy as a cast. It was going to be harder when his fingers got sticky with cinnamon, sugar, and icing.

Jamie looked at their balloons and opened her mouth, ready to agree, when an idea suddenly hit her. “Oh!” she gasped. “I know.”

Without bothering to stop to explain, Jamie went into action. She placed the drinks on the table alongside her pretzel, careful to keep her tasty treat on its waxy paper wrapper so that it wouldn’t get sandy. With her hands now mostly free, she hopped out of her chair without moving it so she could round the table to join Cove at his side. Gently, she tugged at the string of his balloon, taking it from his hand. Before he could ask her any questions, she tied it in a delicate bow around the wrist of his uncasted arm.

“Oh,” Cove said, blinking at the balloon now tied to his wrist. He moved his arm up and down a little, testing the stability of the knot. After seeing his balloon bounce and jerk but remain attached to him, he gave Jamie a satisfied smile.

Jamie returned the smile with one of her own as she offered her balloon to Cove. “There, now can you do mine too?”

Cove was only too happy to repay the favor. Unfortunately, the cast got in his way again with the way it restricted his fingers on his left hand, making it difficult for him to move them the way he wanted. The string tied to his right wrist also proved an additional challenge, as he had to be careful not to accidentally tangle both strings together.

Jamie watched Cove work patiently, his fingers feeling ticklish as they kept touching her wrist. The sensation was strange. It made her feel… happy? She liked it, but it was different in a way that left her face feeling warm and unable to look her friend in the eyes.

Finally, Cove managed to overcome the challenge, letting out a satisfied hum as he finished the knot. “Got it,” he said happily.

The two children took a moment to admire their handiwork. It also helped Jamie calm down from the weird feelings. With everything now settled, she returned to her side of the table after placing Cove’s soda closer to him. She was careful not to move the chair again as she squirmed back into it.

Now, both friends were able to finally enjoy their sweet treats and drinks as they admired their ocean view. The sounds of the sea mingling with the crowd served as a pleasant backdrop of ambient noise that left conversation unnecessary as they focused all their attention on enjoying their meal.

Jamie was the first to finish her pretzel with a little bit of regret that there wasn’t more of it. She licked what remained of the icing off her fingers, trying to get every last bit of the sugary goodness until she was sure there was nothing left. As she wiped her sticky hands on a napkin, she looked over at Cove and saw that he was close to being finished, but not quite.

Jamie didn’t want to rudely interrupt Cove’s meal by talking, but without anything to do, she quickly found herself growing bored. She drained the last of her milk as she looked around for something to occupy her time when she spied her balloon bobbing back and forth from the movements of her arm.

Inspiration struck, and Jamie pulled the string down until she could bring the balloon down into her hands. She held it more delicately than any of her stuffed animals as she moved it in what she felt confident was a good imitation of a real dolphin. She twisted in her seat to face towards the beach and held the balloon a little out in front of her as she continued her play, smiling proudly at how it looked as though it was swimming through the waves like that pod of dolphins she saw.

Cove curiously watched Jamie mess around with her balloon as he continued to eat. From his angle, he was able to see what she was going for. A delighted laugh escaped him as he could imagine exactly what she was, and he wanted to join in.

Jamie glanced over at Cove and watched him place what little was left of his pretzel down onto its wrapper so that he could take a hold of his dolphin balloon like she did. She beamed, eager to start a game of pretend with her friend. “Mine’s name is Merriweather,” she said proudly. “He’s the prince of the dolphins. He wears a crown of seaweed and all his friends are merfolk!”

Jamie turned ‘Merriweather’ towards Cove and bobbed it in the most regal manner she could manage, which elicited a giggle from her friend. “Every now and then, he’ll make friends with a kid and let them ride on his back,” she said before letting out a wistful sigh. She wished she could meet a magical dolphin prince like Merriweather for real.

“What’s yours?” Jamie asked eagerly once she shook off the fanciful thought.

Cove took a moment to consider the question seriously. He placed the balloon on the table, laying his cast covered arm across it as his gaze grew distant with contemplation. It took him some thinking to come up with an idea. “It’s-”

A loud and terrible pop destroyed the fantasy Cove had conjured up as the poor dolphin balloon exploded into green ribbons.

The children reeled back from the explosion, both yelping in surprise. For a moment after, the two could only stare at the tattered remains of what had been Cove’s balloon, which now looked more like a pile of seaweed that washed ashore.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. “Oh no…”

When the shock melted away, what had just happened hit Cove hard. His balloon was gone, destroyed beyond hope of repair. It wasn’t fair. He barely had a chance to enjoy it and now it was gone… forever.

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 7th - Blindness

Gift fic for @sassydefendorflower

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Head Injury, slight descriptions of blood

---

Slade dodges under the swinging blow of Blüdhaven’s newest sewer monster; born from whatever chemicals a rat has gotten into near some chemist-based super-villain’s old hideout. Now, while it’s not everyday Slade goes out of his way to take down various monsters across the ‘Haven, this time… he feels a little obligated to.

Yes, he is the reigning champion of being Nightwing’s least favorite and most powerful villain, but unfortunately Nightwing is Slade’s favorite and most interesting opponent. He came to the ‘Haven to give the kid a head’s up that he has a mark in the city; a regular challenge he likes to set for the kid to try and stop him. However, when he didn’t find Nightwing along any of his normal routes, nor in his apartment, he turned to the news to see if the kid had left for Gotham or some other city without him noticing; preparing to postpone this mark until he was back in his patron city and away from other bats.

It was then he noticed the breaking news that a giant, sewage themed rat was wreaking havoc under Blüdhaven’s streets in the downtown areas, near a major subway platform. Nightwing was spotted going in, telling people to stay out, and he hasn’t been seen since.

Of course, Slade went to the fight, and it’s a good thing he did. When he got there, he found Nightwing limp in the creature’s tail, held inches from it’s long and jagged front teeth. Blood trailed down the side of his skull in a steady flow. Slade knew immediately he was unconscious.

He took out one of his pistols and shot at the rat, but the monster was so large and feral it hardly did anything when it went into its arm. It dropped Nightwing like a sack of flour onto the ground, snarling as it turned to it’s newest threat, drool dripping down it’s snout. Slade pulled out his swords and faced it head on.

The creature, while lacking any intelligence, was fast and powerful. Even Slade had trouble ducking under its tail that it used like a club and avoiding its powerful legs and jaw. While it’s disappointing to see Nightwing taken down by a creature as low as this, he can’t exactly blame the kid when it takes himself several minutes to finally get his sword through the thing’s tail. He cuts off the appendage, then while the monster screeches in agony, he pierces its throat.

It goes down twitching and gurgling, its blood bubbling down into the sewer's already questionable streams of water. He whips his swords out, getting off a majority of the wretched blood, then heads over to his unconscious person of interest.

Nightwing doesn’t move as he kneels down beside him, in fact he’s still in the rather undignified position he had been dropped in. Frowning, Slade moves Nightwing into a better position that won't strain his spine and smacks his face lightly to wake him up. He doesn’t even twitch, causing Slade to frown more. His head is still bleeding, which is worrisome. He grabs a tube of smelling-salts from his pouch—usually used to wake up people he’s previously knocked out to get some information out of them—and firmly places it under Nightwing’s nose. A solid few seconds pass before Nightwing’s eyes shoot open under his domino mask; his hands fly out to his face to stifle coughs and he rocks forward so he’s sitting instead of laying down.

Slade doesn’t try to make conversation quite yet, more worried about that head injury. He holds Nightwing by the jaw to tilt his head and get a better look, but Nightwing reacts like the touch was electrified. He smacks Slade’s arms away and jumps to his feet, stumbling back and holding out a single escrima. Slade doesn’t know where the other one went.

“Sit back down,” Slade growls, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Nightwing flinches at the initial sound of his voice, his mouth dropping open in shock before lowering his single weapon slightly.

“Slade?” he asks, his voice slurred.

Slade resists sighing, and lifts his eyebrow. Who else would it be? It’s not that dark here, even with Slade’s heightened senses. Nightwing doesn’t relax completely though, as if waiting for an answer. Not for the first time that night, another spike of worry rises in his chest.

“Kid, sit down or I’ll make you sit down.”

Nightwing almost goes boneless after that, breathing a single ”thank fuck” before sinking to his ass and putting his head in his hands with a groan.

Now Slade does sigh, even rolling his eyes as he does so, as he once again approaches Nightwing and grabs onto his face to look at the wound. Nightwing hisses and flinches out of his grasp.

“Don’t,” he says, “I already know how bad it is.”

Slade hums, folding his arms across his chest. “How bad is it then?”

Nightwing remains quiet for a moment, biting his lip, perhaps internally fighting with himself on whether or not it’s a good idea to tell one of his biggest enemies about how injured he is. Eventually, Nightwing makes the smart choice and speaks anyway, knowing Slade will find no pleasure in ending him if he's already down.

“Head feels like a war-drum. Feel like ‘m gonna throw up. Voice slurred… ears ringing… I-” Nightwing hesitates. Then sighs. “I can’t see.”

“You can’t see?” Slade repeats, kneeling down to once again take Nightwing’s face in his hands. Nightwing fights the grasp, but this time Slade holds strong and takes off the mask, revealing unfocused electric-blues.

“Nothing, it’s all black,” Nightwing whispers, a slight wobble in his voice that Slade is sure he’s trying to keep down.

He grabs a small flashlight from his tools and shines it in Nightwing’s eyes, frowning as there’s hardly any reaction in the pupils. He clicks off the light and releases Nightwing, thinking of options.

He’s sure the last thing the kid’ll want is to get dumped at the hospital, but Slade’s no medical expert, especially with something as fragile as a normal human’s brain.

He sighs, as only one option realistically reveals itself. The last thing Slade wants to do is risk Nightwing going home all on his own and possibly making this blindness permanent when there could be something that can be done to help him. Nightwing is a competent, talented young man, which is why he’s so intriguing to Slade—and while he has all the faith that Nightwing will find a way to fight even if his sight is forever gone, Slade also knows the loss of sense will be a major blow to the kid’s moral for months to come. He’s seen how far Nightwing can fall with helplessness and depression plaguing him, and honestly the thrill of fighting him leaves when his fire is replaced with a desperateness to prove to himself that he’s still worth something. He needs Nightwing to have a steady support system, and help for this injury.

Nightwing is going to hate him for a while after this, but Slade has no choice. He doesn’t fight against Nightwing to kill him, but because those fights are the only thing that brings a fun challenge. For how human Nightwing is, he fights like a beast, and Slade can’t lose that.

“Up,” he says while returning the kid’s mask; he grabs Nightwing by the arm and lifts him to his feet. Nightwing groans, but doesn’t fight too badly as Slade firmly wraps his arm around Slade’s shoulders. “Where is the best place to exit this place without being spotted?”

Nightwing, with the complexion of the inside of an avocado, talks him through on where to go. He looks one small fit of nausea away from throwing up all over Slade’s armor.

Luckily, he keeps it in his stomach—perhaps the discomfort in his body being something more desirable to deal with than a vomit covered Slade—and by the time they make it out of a small, boarded up and abandoned, exit to the subway line, Slade lets the kid take a break by the nearest dumpster. Nightwing, the poor thing, must have lost everything he’s eaten today in those fifteen minutes.

Now that he’s out below Blüdhaven’s night sky, he’s now the one in charge of leading the way. Nightwing stumbles along blindly—hah—never letting go of his weak grasp around Slade’s neck and shoulders.

Finally, they make it to where Slade has parked the car he had taken into the city. The windows are all tinted to near-illegal levels, but Slade still stuffs Nighting in the back-seats and hands him a bucket he had in the trunk that previously held a few hundred bullets from when he bought them in bulk.

“Throw up on the seats and I’m making you buy me a new car.”

“Bet this one was stolen anyway,” Nightwing mumbles, curled up in the backseats with the bucket touching his stomach like a flu-ridden child.

Slade scoffs and closes the door after reminding him to keep his head down but to stay awake. He takes off his Deathstroke mask, then the top bits of his armor, and shoves them in the truck. Then, after he gets in the driver's seat, they’re off.

Getting out of downtown Blüdhaven should be the hardest part of all of this; both for Slade’s navigation skills and for Nightwing’s gag-reflex. Eventually, however, they make it out of the twists and turns of downtown and eventually make it onto the main roads of the city—still crowded with cars coming too and from various ass-awful shifts of work. Nightwing remains quite agreeable in the backseats, responding that he’s awake every time Slade calls for a status report (about every five-ten minutes), and groaning at every turn no matter how slow Slade takes them.

However, that agreeableness quickly leaves the boy when Slade enters the on-ramp connecting to the north-south interstate.

Kid almost makes himself throw up by how quickly he scrambles to a sitting position; ignoring Slade's commands to lay back down.

“Turn around,” Nightwing growls. And it’s a strong growl too, reminds Slade of a chihuahua. Shaking and all.

“You’re currently blind, you have no idea where-”

“I know the roads of my city, Slade. And you’re leaving it.”

Slade sighs and merges into traffic, then uses one hand to shove Nightwing back town onto the seats. “Keep down, a cop will see you.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Slade remains silent.

“Tell me it’s a secret mansion somewhere and you have your own personal doctor that can help. Or you know a guy that happens to be down south. Or-”

“I’m taking you to Gotham,” Slade says, ripping off the band-aid.

Nightwing looks all sorts of emotions in the span of a few seconds. The one he settles on, however, is anger.

“No.”

“Batman gets injured all the time,” Slade begins to explain, but Nightwing looks frantic now.

“No, don’t take me back- I’ve worked so hard to get him to see that I can do things without him- and he has a new kid now and-”

“Suck it up,” Slade growls. “Deal with it. I’m not like you, kid. I don’t know how to take care of a normal human, and I definitely don’t know anyone who can because I have no need to. What you need is a doctor that can treat you off the record, who knows about your nightlife. Batman has that, doesn’t he.”

It’s not a question, but Nightwing’s silence is still an answer.

“Whatever your old man thinks of you for coming back injured doesn’t matter in the end. Nor does the new kid. What you should worry more about is what I think of you after this. You’re not fighting Batman, you’re fighting me.”

“What if he doesn’t let me fight after this?” Nightwing… Dick whispers as he finally lays back down on the seats. He’s taken his mask off and is rubbing his eyes, perhaps quelling tears or a headache. Perhaps both. “What if my sight doesn’t come back? What if he retires me?”

Slade remains silent for a second, then answers as firmly as he can. “I’ve known plenty of formidable enemies who are missing a sense. You’ll find a way to get back up, and if he doesn’t let you then I’ll just have to break in, kidnap you, and train you myself.”

That startles a laugh out of Dick. “I thought you were no longer trying to get me to be your apprentice.”

Slade shrugs, allowing a smile on his lips, selfishly comforted that Dick couldn’t see it. “You have a lot of potential, kid, I’d rather you use it against me than not at all. I’ll train you and release you like the bird you are, and we can get back to the same ol’ dance we have.”

Dick takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah… okay. I’ll hold you to that.”

-o-o-o-o-

Slade parks the car in an old neighborhood in Gotham that has a considerable drop in crime compared to the rest of the city. All things considered. Though, the sun is beginning to rise and Slade’s positive the Bat knew he was in his city the second he drove into it. Dick knows this too, as he’s telling Slade to hurry up and get out of here despite the boy still looking green around the gills. Slade grabs his mask and armor, then turns to the stolen car he’s about to abandon and opens the back door near Dick’s face.

Suddenly, and rather embarrassingly, he doesn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Dick is a freaky empath sometimes and gives an exhausted smile.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll get through this.”

“Good,” Slade replies. “I won't let you quit.”

His grin widens. “Never.”

Then Slade closes the door and takes off quickly, only pausing on a distant roof to watch a large black figure and a smaller red-and-yellow clad child approach the car and catch sight of the injured bird inside.

From there, Slade turns and leaves, not looking back.

He’ll see Nightwing on the battlefield again. No matter what, Slade will make sure of it.