#even years of prep later; no one on earth could actually stop him from killing more people or ruining more lives: and that is exactly what-

[blindtaleteller]

Tags.. because people conveniently forget those were things, in Ragnarok: and blame it on the gay hate instead of what disliking -both- films actually is: they were both of them, very bad out of character films in the franchise: as out of character and universe/s, not to mention the running premise and basic concept of the franchise itself making the terms phase 3 and phase 4 a thing. The Thor corner started going off track with Gagnarok.

But and yes; just as he promised to back then? Waititi absolutely was keeping his promises to destroy the title and every character in it, all the way through into Love and Thunder. (Yes those at that link are Taika's actual, official interviews at the time screen shotted and scanned in from varied articles published both on the web and in hard print at the time.)

[goldenraeofsun]

Enhanced Extraction Techniques

Also available at AO3

“Cas?”

Cas whirls around. If he was standing on a normal floor, his shoes would have squeaked with the abrupt turn. In the Empty, though, his feet don’t make a sound. “Dean?” he calls back, his heart soaring in his chest.

“Cas? Where are you, man?”

Cas spins in another circle, his eyes straining against the darkness. The oppressive blankness of nothing presses against his eyeballs like an almost tangible film. He tries again, “Dean?”

“Cas?”

“Dean!” Cas takes off in the direction of Dean’s voice.

“Are you there?”

 Cas walks faster, anticipation quickening his heels. “I’m coming!”

“I can’t find you!”

“I’m here!” Cas calls back desperately.

“I’m running out of time here, buddy! Spell’s not gonna last forever. Where the hell are you?”

Panicked, Cas breaks out into a run. “I’m coming, Dean!”

“Are you?”

Cas stops dead. If he was back on Earth, he would have fallen flat on his face with the momentum. He turns to his right, where Dean’s voice just came.

“Cas? You there?”

Dean’s voice definitely came from his left that time.

“I need you.”

Cas swallows. Dean’s voice is coming from directly in front of him now. Icy dread creeps up his spine, but he feels hot all over.

“You make it too easy, Castiel.”

Dean never calls him by his full name, not in more than a decade. He is not talking with Dean.

“Nobody is coming for you.”

Cas doesn’t respond. Shamed beyond reason, he just stands there because there is nothing else to do. He can’t hide from the Empty. The Empty is everywhere.

Black ooze, blacker than the surrounding darkness, bubbles up from the floor. The Empty resolves into Cas’s own face, to his surprise. He’d been expecting Dean.

It shrugs, a knowing smirk playing on its lips. “What can I say? If you’re determined to keep me awake, I might as well amuse myself.”

“Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired,” Cas says as tonelessly as he can manage.

The Empty crosses its arms over its chest. “My options are limited, aren’t they?” it says snidely. “I can’t put you to sleep, so I can’t sleep. I might as well make this experience as hellish for you as it is for me.”

Cas frowns. “You could always negate our deal. Send me back to Earth.”

The Empty laughs. “That’s not how it works. That was a one-way trip.”

Cas grinds his teeth. “Then it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“An impasse requires two forces of equal power,” the Empty tuts. “And you, my little gnat, have no power in this equation. You are my plaything. What was it that Gabriel said? A thousand channels and nothing’s on. Except you.”

Before Cas can respond, the Empty disappears, dissolving into a tarry splatter and absorbing into whatever passes as the floor in this place. 

 * * *

Cas wanders. He used to sleep while he was bored, but the Empty truly reigns supreme in his dreams. Cas killed Naomi’s Dean facsimile a thousand times, a million times. He watched Dean rake leaves, Crowley whispering poisoned promises into his ear. He walked away as Dean hurts and rages silently behind him in the Bunker.

So Cas stays awake. He’s an angel. It isn’t hard.

Dean’s voice occasionally calls for him.

Cas ignores it.

He wanders for what seems like miles, like hundreds of miles. Nothing ever changes in the Empty. With every step forward, he meets the same bleak blackness. The closest comparison in his long memory is the fraction of a second before the Big Bang - there was emptiness then too, but it was filled with a pregnant sense of promise. In the Empty - nothing.

Until.

Dean is running towards him.

Cas blinks a few times to make sure, even though his vision is perfect.

“Cas,” Dean breaks the silence first, “I found you.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes - any louder, and Dean will hear the trembling. “You’re here.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean says with a wink. “Now, come on. We’re getting out of here.” He takes off in the direction he came from, glancing behind him to check on Cas.

“We are?” Cas asks, following.

Dean throws him a disbelieving look. “Of course, dude. Sam and Jack are prepping the spell to get us back to the Bunker. We got Chuck by the short and curlies, but we’re one power player short. So we gotta get a move on.”

“So you need me?” Cas asks.

“Your mojo is the ticket,” Dean says with a little grin. “Chuck wiped all the angels off the Earth except Michael. And that dick isn’t answering our prayers, so you’re our next best bet.”

The joy at seeing Dean wavers. “I am?” he asks haltingly.

Dean shrugs. “We gotta work with what we have. And we just remembered you were here, out of Chuck’s reach. Our own spare angel!”

Cas barely holds back his flinch. Hunching in on himself, he mutters, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean assures him, misreading his reaction completely. “We have a plan.”

Cas sighs. “Of course you do. What is it?”

“Sam found a spell,” Dean says. “It’ll rip Chuck apart, and, since Amara’s inside him - which, gross - it’ll maintain the balance when the spell takes her apart too.” 

Dean stops walking.

Cas looks around, but nothing sets aside this patch of emptiness from any other. No illuminated rift, no magic symbols, no X marking the spot - nothing.

“The catch is,” Dean says as he turns to Cas, his face regretful, “the spell needs an angel’s grace.”

In a blink of an eye, an angel blade drops into Dean’s palm.

Cas blinks. No beings but angels can manifest that particular weapon.

Dean raises the blade, fingers flexing on the handle. “You know,” he says conversationally, “Now that I think about it, we don’t actually need the angel himself - just the battery.”

Cas stands his ground, his eyes darting over Dean’s face, taking in every nuance and tell.

“I told you once,” Cas says warily, a horrible foreboding coming over him, “I’m always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

“Happy to hear that, Cas,” Dean says, his face impassive, “because you’re gonna bleed a lot, not gonna lie.” He shoves the blade in Cas’s chest, right above his heart.

Cas staggers back from the blow, pain and shock radiating out from the bloodless wound.

Dean raises his eyebrows, his mouth curling into a mocking smile as Cas meets his smug face. “What, were you expecting to go poof? We’re in the Empty,” he throws its hands wide, “everyone’s in stasis here, including you.”

Cas yanks the blade out of his chest, but it - and Dean - turns into black goo before he can stab anything with it.

 * * *

The Empty doesn’t mimic Dean next. Instead it takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s. Every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven.

And there’s no escape. Cas can do his best not to listen, but if he retreats too far into himself, it almost counts as sleeping. With the Empty’s nudging, his thoughts will veer into his worst regrets, sooner or later. 

The Empty is in the middle of lecturing him in the form of Balthazar, when it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

“Come on,” he says roughly. He strides forward to grab Cas’s hand and tug him in the other direction. “That bomb doesn’t last forever.”

“Dean?”

“Who else?” Dean yanks him sharply to the left. “This place didn’t turn your brains to scrambled eggs, did it?”

“I don’t think so,” Cas says shakily. “Dean are you really...”

“What?”

Cas can’t help looking down at their clasped hands. A fleeting thing, barely more than a glance. Still, Dean drops Cas’s hand like it burned him. “You good to run?” he asks shortly.

Cas barely nods before Dean takes off. They hurtle through the Empty, their rapid footsteps impossibly silent. Dean’s breath comes in sharp pants, and Cas’s useless wings ache, not for the first time, to fly them to their destination.

“Dean,” Cas starts, and Dean slows. “Where are we going?”

“Where I left my stuff,” Dean says shortly. “The spell to get us out of here needs a shit-ton of crap, and I couldn’t haul it all over this goddamn place while I was trying to find you.”

“How did you know your way back?”

The corners of Dean’s mouth lift in a faint smile. He points to the floor. “M&Ms.”

Cas squints at the ground, and, sure enough, they are following a trail of tiny candies. “Ingenious,” he murmurs.

“Hey, it worked with a Wendigo,” Dean says, shrugging. He directs them in a few more twists and turns before Cas sees Dean's duffle bag in the distance, topped with a bright yellow bag of M&Ms.

As they get closer, Dean pulls out an angel blade from inside his jacket.

Cas balks. 

Dean shoots him a puzzled look as he hands it to him. “It won’t kill anything here, obviously,” he says, unzipping his bag. He pulls out a copper bowl and bundles of herbs, “But having a weapon’s never a bad idea in unknown dimensions.”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas surveils their inky surroundings, already on high alert for any trespassers.

“Watch my back, okay?” Dean glances over his shoulder. Various ingredients get dropped into the bowl with outsized clangs and dribbles that seem to echo in the void around them.

Cas stays vigilant.

“This was easier than I thought it would be,” Dean mutters as the bowl’s contents start to smoke.

“Don’t jinx it,” Cas mutters out of the side of his mouth.

Dean chuckles under his breath. “I didn’t think angels believed in jinxes.”

It’s not like Cas has been especially angelic these past few years. He says shortly, “I’ve found you can never be too careful.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Need your blood for this part,” he says, shuffling over to make room. “Wait,” Dean says before Cas can press the blade againt his skin.

“Yes?”

“This is the last step,” Dean says seriously. “Once your blood goes in, it’s liftoff. So I wanted to get a couple things straight before we’re back in the Bunker.”

Cas doesn’t need to breathe, but if he did, his breath would have hitched in his chest at the closed-off look on Dean’s face. “Of course.” 

“What you said - what you told me,” Dean starts, his voice hard, “before you got sucked to this hellscape.” He drops his gaze to the bowl cradled in his hands, “That’s not me.”

Cas presses his lips together, struggling to keep his face impassive. Once he regains control of himself he says, “I did not expect you to reciprocate when I told you about my feelings for you.”

Dean actively recoils at the mention of feelings. He gives the bowl a little toss, and a few of the contents spill onto the floor. “Just, forget it,” he says brusquely, gathering everything up again.

“Dean-”

He turns to Cas, his eyes blazing. “But - you know what? I can’t forget it.”

Cas opens his mouth, but Dean is not done.

“How could you offload all that shit on me right before you fucked off to parts unknown?” he demands, voice rising in anger and volume. “Of all the goddamn things you could have said to me - that takes the fucking cake. You were my best friend -” he breaks off, shaking his head. “Worst moment of my goddamn life.”

Cas takes a step back, a sickly horror trickling down his spine. “I didn’t think-”

But Dean’s not listening. “I had serious doubts about coming here at all,” he continues, and the last Dean had stabbed him in the chest - how is this so much worse? “But Sam gave me those goddamn puppy dog eyes, and don’t even get me started on Jack-”

“I understand,” Cas interrupts stiffly. He inhales a deep breath he doesn’t need and continues, “Once we return to the Bunker, I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Probably for the best,” Dean mutters.

Cas cuts his forearm, watching with perverse fascination as the blood wells up and drips into the bowl waiting below.

There’s a violent burst of light and sound.

In the aftermath, Cas can only make out Dean’s mocking laughter. Before Cas can say a word, it turns into Meg’s delighted giggles. And then Gabriel’s howls of mirth.

 * * *

Cas sleeps after getting deceived for the third time. Anything is better than seeing the smug face of the Empty, whether it’s wearing Dean’s face, Gadreel’s, or Ruby’s. 

He breaks the wall in Sam’s head.

He lets Lucifer possess him in a futile plan.

He beats Dean to a bloody mess for the Angel Tablet.

Occasionally, the Empty grants him release, and Cas gets to deliver a bad joke to Uriel in Mesopotamia or Dean calls him a baby in a trenchcoat in a diner.

Time passes. Cas has no idea how long. There’s no sun - no moon - no cycling of the heavens. Only emptiness.

He gets shaken awake.

Cas blinks up at a pair of very familiar green eyes. “Dean,” he says, more or less resigned.

“Jesus,” Dean says as he sits back on his heels, “Way to make a guy feel welcome. I’m here to save your sorry ass, in case you were wondering. A full week of tearing my hair out over how to get you outta here, and this is the thanks I get.”

Cas sits up. “My apologies,” he says tentatively as he studies Dean’s face. There’s no sign it isn’t really Dean.

Then again, none of the others showed signs either.

Cas gets to his feet, asking, “Are you alone?”

Dean glances around them warily. “Yeah, Sam and Jack are keeping the portal open in the Bunker. They wanted to come,” he says, his eyes raking over Cas’s face, drinking him in. “They’ll be over the fucking moon to see you again.”

Cas swallows. “And you?”

“I -” A dull flush comes over Dean’s cheeks. He looks away.

Cas’s face shutters. “Right,” he says as he stands in front of Dean. “Now what?”

“Hey,” Dean says, reaching out to grasp his left shoulder, a mirror of the mark Cas left on him so long ago and so recently. “I missed you too. You have to know that.”

Worst moment of my life.

Cas looks away, Dean’s own raised voice echoing in his head.

“Hey,” Dean says again, gentler this time. His green eyes bore into Cas’s face. “What’s going on in that celestial brain of yours?”

The words catch in Cas’s throat, a lump of embarrassment and fear keeping them there. Embarrassment that the Empty deceived him. Fear that the Empty was right.

“Look, I know we didn’t leave things on great terms,” Dean says awkwardly, “and maybe this isn’t the best place to talk about it, but I’m so fucking happy to see you, man.” He chuckles ruefully. “’S making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Even if it’s only a facsimile of Dean - and there’s no way to tell for certain - seeing his face not contorted in anger or mockery is like a balm on Cas’s soul. If he had one, that was.

“About what you said before you got taken-” Dean starts.

Cas’s heart sinks.

“No,” Dean says, his voice low and gentle, “listen to me. I get that happiness for you might just be in the being, but for me-”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas interrupts. “I meant that, truly. You don’t have to-”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, smiling slightly, “You’re not making this easy are you?”

Cas bites his tongue to keep from contradicting Dean again.

“As I was saying,” Dean continues pointedly, his green eyes shining, “For me, happiness isn’t in the being - whatever the hell that means. It’s in the goddamn having.”

Cas bites his tongue harder, the pain hardly registering against the burst of hope fluttering wildly in his chest. “Dean,” he forces out, “You can’t mean…”

“Cas,” Dean starts, and Cas’s heart breaks - or mends. He can’t tell. He has no idea who he is talking to, and it’s, to borrow a phrase from the real Dean, an epic mindfuck.  

“Cas,” the Dean standing in front of him repeats, and Cas’s gaze automatically draws back to his face, “Good things do happen.”

Cas chuckles wetly. He has no choice but to say, “Not in my experience.”

Dean takes a step closer, far into the personal space he’d shown Cas so many years ago. Brows drawing together, he raises a hand to cup Cas’s face. “Someone told me a while ago that having faith was important. Seems you’re a little short there, buddy.”

Cas tries to duck his head, but Dean won’t let him. Eventually, he admits, “My faith has been tested recently.”

“But you didn’t give up, right?” Dean asks, leaning in close enough that Cas can feel the warmth of his breath in the air between them.

Cas shakes his head minutely. “No,” he murmurs, “not entirely.”

“Good,” Dean says, pausing just shy of Cas’s mouth. Waiting.

Cas steels himself and closes distance.

Just before their lips touch, Dean implodes in a burst of inky ooze.

 * * *

Cas breaks several knuckles on the floor of the Empty. There are no walls to punch, no blade to send heads rolling. Cas works with what he has.

The real Dean would probably approve.

Dean shows up again before too long. This Dean goes so far as to tell Cas he loves him.

Cas turns his back on Dean’s heartbroken face. He refuses to engage.

He wanders instead.

* * * 

Cas hears the footsteps before he sees his next Dean.

“Cas!” he pants, “Thank fuck. I thought I was never going to find you.”

Cas merely sighs.

Dean makes a face. “Way to roll out the welcome wagon,” he says, clearly offended. “I would’ve thought you were sick of this place by now.”

Cas purses his lips. “I am.”

“Shocker,” Dean says with a little smile. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time, so you gotta follow me.”

Cas doesn’t budge. He’d rather roam this place for eternity than suffer at the hands of another Dean facsimile. And he had thought he saw enough of them under Naomi’s tutelage. He’d been so naive.

Dean stares at him like Cas just stripped naked and danced the macarena. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not real,” Cas says bluntly.

Dean gapes. “Of course I’m real! Chuck’s de-powered, and Jack… well, it’s a long story. Bottom line: nobody’s pulling our strings but us.”

Cas lets out a derisive laugh.

Dean’s eyebrows rise, but he barrels on, “So it’s time to get a move on. Up and at ‘em, sunshine.” He jerks his head off to the right. 

Cas stays where he is. “No.”

“What the hell?” Dean has the gall to tug on Cas’s sleeve like he’s a wayward toddler. “Come on. You’re not making any sense.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Cas retorts. It’s not his best rejoinder, but he’s been very stressed lately.

Whatever Dean was about to say dies on his tongue as he stares at Cas in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?” He shakes his head before Cas can respond, saying, “Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out later. But now, you’ve gotta come with me.”

Cas levels him a flat glare. This one is more stubborn than the last, more like the real Dean. “Why should I?”

“Because you don’t deserve to be stuck here?” Dean says, gesturing to the void around them. “You saved the world, Cas.” He swallows. “You saved me. Getting you out is the least we can do.”

“Because you need me to take on Chuck,” Cas says.

“No?” Dean says, his eyes narrowing. “I already told you, Chuck’s off the playing board.”

“Because you feel guilty about leaving me here.”

“No - wait, I do, but,” Dean breaks off, irritated, “you know what I mean.”

Cas doesn’t, so he continues in the same vein as before, “Because you love me.”

Dean hesitates. “I’m working on it.”

Cas snorts. At least the last Dean had the balls to say it. Many times. While crying.

“What?” Dean throws up his hands. “You just sprung it on me, dude! I didn’t even know angels could feel things like that, and it took me by surprise, okay? I’m only human, and sometimes we need time to get used to ideas. Like when we found out Snooki was a demon. Yeah, the signs were there, and it makes sense, but still - you sometimes need it spelled out for you.”

Cas pauses. None of the other Deans had referenced pop culture. “How long ago was this for you?”

“Since we summoned Snooki?” 

At Cas’s icy look of disdain, Dean hedges, “A month? Give or take.” He glares. “First we had to deal with Chuck, and it took a while to find a spell to get here. Remember, we didn’t even know this was a place before you died the last time. The Men of Letters weren’t a shit ton of help, for once.”

Cas crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just… hear me out,” Dean says. “There’s a portal to get us home. Sam and Jack can’t stall the Empty forever.”

That was new. “Jack and Sam aren’t in the Bunker?”

“No,” Dean says as he takes off in the opposite direction, all but forcing Cas to follow to find out more. “They’re up in Heaven.”

“Why?”

“Because the Empty can’t get to Earth without a summoning spell, which, as far as we can tell, doesn’t exist?” Dean says, checking over his shoulder to make sure Cas is still within earshot. “But you made that fucking stupid deal in Heaven, so we knew it could at least travel there. Jack zapped Sam to the Pearly Gates, and they’re hopefully making a distraction while I get you out.”

Still not entirely convinced, Cas asks begrudgingly, “And where are we going?”

“A portal,” Dean says confidently. “This place is a little like Purgatory, apparently. If it senses a human here, it’ll create a portal to spit them out again.” He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “So here I am, 100% genuine human to bail your ass out.”

“Thank you?”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean says with a wink.

Cas scowls. The first Dean had winked at him too.

“Jesus, tough crowd,” Dean mutters as they head further into the Empty.

Cas scans the ground, but there are no small candies lining the way. “How do you know where to go?”

“Turns out, Sam could find a spell for that,” Dean says as he holds up his left hand - clutching his amulet. The Empty must have really hunted around in his memories for that one, even more so than the Wendigo case. He hasn’t seen the real amulet in nearly five years. “It heats up when I’m on the right track towards the exit.”

“So no M&Ms?”

Dean turns to him. “I told you about that?”

Cas stares straight ahead, willing his face to fall into an expressionless mask. The real Dean had told him about the Wendigo over dinner with Sam and Mary while she was still alive, or the Empty wouldn’t be able to use it as inspiration now.

Dean shakes his head, smiling. “Man, I haven’t thought about that case in forever.” He glances at Cas, his face sobering. “You really don’t believe this is real?”

“No.”

He can’t. Not again.

Dean sighs as he steers them slightly to the right. “Come on, I’m almost getting third degree burns from this thing. We must be close.”

Sure enough, a blue swirling portal comes into view, a pinprick of light in the distance at first, elongating into an exact replica of the Purgatory exit as they approach. 

“Finally,” Dean mutters, his face impassive. He  turns to Cas. “Just… don’t stay behind,” he grimaces, “again.”

This version has been the most true to Dean - less callous than the first, more caring than the second, more guarded than the third. It will hurt the most when this one falls apart. Maybe it would be better if Cas heads it off at the pass instead of letting the whole painstaking ruse play out all the way through.

If the Empty could get it over with, Cas will go back to sleep. Anything is better than this torture.

Cas takes a step back, away from the portal. “This is pointless-”

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean throws his hands in the air. “I don’t get it at all. You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

Cas gapes at him.

Dean continues heatedly, “If an ex-demon with anger management problems and rap sheet a mile long deserved to be saved, I think a legit angel should get the same.”

Cas shakes his head. “I’m hardly a prime example of an angel anymore.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Have I ever cared about that?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Glad we can agree on something,” Dean cuts him off. “Now, are you going to go through the portal or am I gonna have to drag you? I’ll do it,” he threatens. “Don’t test me.”

Cas wavers. Everything in him says to follow Dean. But this isn’t the real Dean - this is the Empty waiting for the glorious moment when it can yank the illusion away, leaving Cas a little more broken than before.

Dean’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you,” he spits, “You can’t trust me just a little-”

“Trust?” Cas echoes as he strides forward to grab the lapels of Dean’s jacket, his voice rising in a mixture of outrage, desperation, and heartache, “You want me to trust you? After you’ve lied to me, deceived me - after you stabbed me, after you told me I put you through the worst moment of your life the last time you saw me, after you made me think you returned my feelings only to - only to-”

Dean shakes his head slowly. “But I didn’t do any of that.”

“You did,” Cas says fervently, shaking Dean a little - or maybe that’s his trembling hands. “You did - you’ve been putting me through hell since I got here, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you.”

Dean’s expression hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do,” Cas swears. “I’m done pretending.”

Dean his eyes flicking down to Cas’s mouth. “What do you know,” he breathes, “so am I.”

Cas freezes, waiting for Dean to dissolve into a puddle of goo in his hands.

Dean kisses him instead.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips to his, Cas jerks back in surprise and horror.

He falls straight into the portal. 

The Empty vanishes in a blur of too-bright light.

 * * *

Cas comes to in the middle of a field. The sun shines overhead. Noon, Cas registers distantly as he looks around. Dean’s sprawled on the prairie grasses next to him, already waking up judging by the groaning noises.

“Dean?”

Dean opens his eyes, glances at the sky, and closes them again. “Oh great, we made it.”

Cas tentatively picks his way closer to Dean’s side. He stands over him for a moment, shuffling to the side so he doesn’t block the sunlight falling on Dean’s face. “We’re on Earth.”

“Well, it’s sure as shit not Mars,” Dean grumbles, eyes still closed. “Are you watching me right now? I feel like you’re watching me right now.”

Cas stares around the field. “Not anymore,” he says, and a genuine breeze blows against his face. What a marvel.

“‘S okay,” Dean says as he wiggles a little on the grass, getting more comfortable, “’M used to it.”

Cas turns to him. “It’s really you.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean cracks his eyes open, one corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. “You believe me now?”

“This could be the most elaborate ruse yet.”

Dean lifts his head up. “Seriously? You dick, I did not haul ass all the way-”

“I don’t really believe that, however,” Cas says before Dean can work himself up too much.

“Good.” He meaningfully thumps the grass next to him. “Sit. You’re giving me serious Law & Order vibes.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “I don’t get that reference. I know about Law & Order-”

“And how does every episode of Law & Order start?” Dean interrupts, “With someone standing over a dead body in a field.”

Cas takes a seat. “Not always a field. Most episodes show corpses in urban areas, or, once, a yacht.”

“Pretty sure it was more than once. I hate procedural cop shows.”

“They are very formulaic,” Cas admits, stretching out his legs, “and lack the drama of soap operas.”

“I’m just saying, if a long lost sibling doesn’t pop out of the woodwork or if the main character isn’t killed off at least six times, is it really worth watching?”

Cas levels him a flat look. “Dean, all those things have happened to you.”

Dean snorts. “At least none of us got amnesia.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Speak for yourself.”

Dean turns his head to stare at him, a wide grin spreading across his face as he laughs. “Oh shit, you're right. How the hell did I forget?”

“Because of supreme irony, most likely.”

It takes Dean a moment to get it, but when he does, he laughs even louder.

Cas doesn’t have anything to add, so he lets the conversation peter off into silence, listening to Dean’s even breathing and the grass rustling in the gentle wind.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Dean says in an undertone.

Cas turns to him. Dean’s eyes are closed again, but everything else about him radiates a quiet tension Cas might’ve missed anywhere else. But here, in this field, nothing prevents Cas from honing on Dean’s whole being with everything he has. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

“I dunno,” Dean says, his face scrunching up, “I thought it would be more awkward. But… it doesn’t feel any different.”

Cas blinks. “Why should it?” he asks, and though he’s not definitively sure what Dean means by ‘it’, he has a very strong suspicion.

Dean shoots him a pointed look. “Because you don’t tell someone you love them and expect everything to be OK after.”

Cas lays down next to Dean. Staring up at the wispy clouds overhead, he says, “If it changes anything, I didn’t expect to be around for the after part.” Dean’s head turns to look at him, but Cas can’t bring himself to see whatever expression is on his face. “If you’d like for us to go our separate ways after this, I understand.”

“You stupid bastard,” Dean mutters vehemently, “for the last goddamn time, I did not piss off the immortal Blob just to tell you to go fuck yourself in person.”

Cas inhales a slow breath, breathing in the dirt, wildflowers growing nearby, and Dean. “You kissed me,” he says.

“You said you loved me,” Dean shoots back.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did you?”

Cas grimaces as he turns his head to face him. “I thought it was obvious.”

Dean swallows. “No, it wasn’t,” he says quietly, “but I’ve never been good at that stuff.”

Cas squints at him. “You are the most emotionally intelligent man I’ve ever met.”

“What?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You expertly navigate and manipulate people’s emotions to get them to talk to you, open up to you, have sex with you,” he lists. “It’s extraordinary to witness.”

Dean makes a choking noise. “Dude,” he says, which tells Cas absolutely nothing. A few more clouds pass by before Dean speaks again. “I guess the signs were there - with you. But I didn’t want to put them together.”

“Why not?”

Dean shrugs, his shoulders scraping almost inaudibly against the soil and grass stems. “Just didn’t.”

“Then that’s why I didn’t tell you. But, Dean-” Cas breaks off. This part of the conversation, despite what Dean said earlier, does not feel the same as others between them. 

Dean’s eyes flick to his. “Yeah?”

“You kissed me.”

Dean inhales a sharp breath. “I did,” he says at last.

Cas waits, but Dean doesn’t elaborate. “Was it just a ploy to get me to leave the Empty?”

“No.”

Cas grimaces. Not for the first time, his life would be so much easier if Dean could communicate without speaking in riddles or hiding every third word he wanted to say. “Dean...”

“I told you I’m working on it,” Dean says defensively.

Cas closes his eyes. “What does that mean?” he asks, his voice strained.

“It means I’m working on it,” Dean says shortly. But before Cas can press him further, he lets out an explosive sigh. “It means I don’t want to hear any more goodbyes from you. It means - it means that kiss wasn’t too bad, right?”

“I thought you were a fake version of yourself created to torture me for eternity,” Cas says flatly.

Dean props himself up on his elbows. “So all I’m hearing is there’s room for improvement.”

Cas rolls his eyes as Dean scoots closer, peering down at him. “I suppose that’s one way you could look at it.”

“Would you wanna... do something like that again?” Dean asks, his expression confident while his voice is anything but.

“Only if you want to,” Cas says seriously.

Dean licks his lips. He nods once, the movement stilted.

“Should I sit up?” Cas asks, frowning, as he half-lifts his head. “Or do you want to lay back down-”

“Cas,” Dean says impatiently, “it’s kissing we’re talking about here, not Twister.”

“I have played that game before.”

“Yeah, I remember now,” Dean says, a tentative smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth. “You ever do it naked?”

Cas frowns. “There was a strict policy against nudity in the psychiatric ward.”

Dean ducks his head, laughing silently. His forehead lands on Cas’s sternum, his breath warming Cas’s chest from the outside in.

“You were trying to say something arousing,” Cas says, a beat too late.

Dean shakes his head, grinning. “Something like that.”

“I would like to play naked Twister with you.”

Dean’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Glad to hear it,” he says as he leans over Cas. Cas goes a bit cross-eyed to keep him in view until Dean murmurs, “Relax. ‘S just me.”

In the instant before their lips meet, Cas half-expects the whole world around him to splatter apart in a tidal wave of black, otherworldly goo. But Dean is gloriously solid, gloriously human, as he cradles Cas’s half-raised head, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

The midday sun shines; the grass whispers in the wind; and Cas is saved.

[calwrites]

The Illusion (pt 3)

Summary: How do you save the world when all you have to go on is an eye? The reader isn’t sure, but Five seems to have an idea. But helping her brother without jeopardizing her career might be harder than it seems. It doesn’t help that Diego manages to get the reader interested in a local case.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Umbrella Academy!Reader

Warnings: Umbrella Academy spoilers

Word Count: 6.5k

Unfortunately, there’s very little Criminal Minds in this chapter, but this should be the last Umbrella Academy heavy one. The BAU returns next chapter...

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

“So you’re telling me that the only thing we have to go on is an eye? We have to stop the apocalypse, and the only clue we have is an eyeball?”

“That’s what I said,” Five snapped as you tried to keep your eyes on the road. You had insisted that you drive, seeing as Five was thirteen and didn’t have a license. He was still sulking. “I have a plan, though. We’re going to go to the manufacturers of the eye and find out who the eye belongs to.”

“My first problem with that plan is that they’re going to wonder how we got the eye and will no doubt contact the police to make sure we didn’t murder anyone. My second problem is that they’re not just going to give out confidential information like that. Their clients’ information is protected. Giving us the name will potentially open them up to some big time lawsuits.”

“You’re an FBI agent. Just flash them your badge and make them give us the name. It’s not that hard.”

You sighed. “Five, I’m on thin ice with the FBI right now. They’re not exactly pleased that I lied to them about my identity.”

“Are they mad that you lied or that they didn’t catch your lie?”

Your lip quirked a bit before you forced yourself to be serious again. You were still proud that you had managed to fool the FBI for so long by yourself. “Both probably. But I have a trial next week and until then, I need to keep my head down and not piss them off anymore. Even after the trial, if they let me keep my job, I’ll be under intense scrutiny for who knows how long.”

“Is your trial before or after the world ends?”

“After,” you admitted.

“Then you can worry about your job after we save the world,” Five pointed out.

“Listen, I want to help you save the world, but I’m not going to lose my job in the process. And I’m definitely not going to risk it for an eye that might not even be useful.”

“It’s useful,” Five hissed through clenched teeth. You got the impression that he was very close to actually wanting to snap your neck.

“How do you know? What makes you think that an eye is related to the end of the world? Especially since you didn’t even see who it belongs to.”

“I just do, okay?” You waited for an explanation, but Five was too busy scowling out the window to provide one.

“What aren’t you telling me?” you prodded. Silence. “You know I could just look.”

Five sighed angrily, but something in his voice when he spoke made you realize just how serious he was. “You don’t want to see what I saw. Just believe me. Whoever has this eye is going to cause the end of the world.”

“Fine,” you accepted. “Tell me about the future, then.”

“Everything’s destroyed. What else is there to know?”

“I need to know everything I can in order to try to predict how the world is destroyed. There’s a couple possibilities, I guess. Environmental disaster. Nuclear explosion. Aliens.”

“Aliens?” Five scoffed.

You hit his arm in response. “We have super powers for some unknown reason, and you think aliens are far fetched?”

“Fine,” Five bit back. “It just looked like a wasteland. Buildings were destroyed. Some were still on fire. The ground was dust. I managed to survive by eating whatever I could find. Canned food. Cockroaches.” You made a face before you could help yourself. Thank goodness you hadn’t looked in his head to see that. “You know that myth that Twinkies have an endless shelf life? It’s total bullshit.” Five laughed mirthlessly. “We did what we had to do to survive. We adapted.”

“We?” you questioned. You were sure that Five had said all humans were dead. Five’s jaw clenched and he stared pointendly out the window, pretending he didn’t head you. You eyed your brother carefully. You wanted to believe him. Well, not really wanted since that meant believing the world was about to end, but you thought he was telling the truth. Still, being alone could really mess up your mind, especially after something as traumatic as accidentally time travelling into the future.

“You think I’m crazy,” he finally said quietly.

“I already told you that I don’t. Look, I’m driving back to the house with you. I don’t know what else could show you that I’m serious about helping you. I’m just trying to get all of the information. So, was there anyone else with you?”

“Dolores,” Five finally admitted grudgingly.

“And Dolores is?” you prompted.

“My wife.” You turned completely to stare at your brother. Your thirteen year old brother, who was actually much older than you now and was apparently married. “The road,” Five yelled, yanking the wheel to the side, so your car narrowly avoided the highway railing.

“Sorry. We’ll need to unpack that later. Preferably after we save the world. Okay, so there were cockroaches. Any other bugs or animals?”

“No.”

“You must have found some water to drink. Anything off about the water level? Did it seem really high or low?”

“No.”

“Did you see any signs of strange technology? Maybe some new weaponry? Something alien?”

“No,” Five repeated, his voice starting to sound annoyed.

“Okay,” you thought desperately for something that could give you some information. “What about the sky? Did you notice anything like strange planets or maybe something to suggest that the earth shifted?”

“I couldn’t see the sky,” Five answered softly. “There was always smoke and clouds and, I don’t know, shit in the sky. Never saw the sun. Never saw any stars or planets.”

“Well I doubt the earth was knocked out of position. If a change in position had killed all humans, you wouldn’t have survived. Unless whatever moved earth moved it back after everyone was dead.”

“Will you stop with the aliens!”

“I’m just thinking out loud,” you snapped back. “Believe it or not, I don’t have a ready made list of every possible thing that could cause the apocalypse.” You sighed, trying to calm yourself down. You were starting to get a headache, but not like a normal one. It didn’t feel like one that was brought on by dehydration or lack of sleep. It felt like the headaches you used to get when you were younger. Like your mind was about to explode out of your head. Like you just needed to engulf everything around you.

‘It’s because your mind knows that it should be monitoring everyone else’s mind.’ That’s what your father used to tell you. That your consciousness was too big for your own head, so you needed to be in everyone else’s at all times.

You shook your head, trying to clear the memories of those talks with your father. They wouldn’t do you any good now.

“Shit in the sky,” you mused. “Probably not a nuclear bomb. You don’t seem like you’ve been exposed to anything strong enough to wipe out the entire world. Worldwide volcanic winter? Maybe a super volcano erupted. By the time you showed up, the world was habitable again.”

“But how would a person in the city make a supervolcano erupt?” Five’s fingers clenched around the eye.

“I don’t know. A super volcano machine?” Five glared at you, but didn’t deign to give you a response. “Fine. Um, some sort of meteor hit earth and wiped everything out. Like the dinosaurs, but more thorough.”

“Using a meteor machine?” Five asked sarcastically.

“Maybe! Luther’s been up in space doing who knows what. There would be someone else up there who’s been prepping a meteor to hit the earth. Or someone could have some sort of super missile to shoot at a meteor as it passes. Make it explode and enough of it might hit earth to wipe out everyone. We should see if there’s supposed to be any big meteors passing earth in eight days. I’ll ask Garci-” You stopped suddenly. You couldn’t ask Garcia about this. This wasn’t a case. None of your teammates could find out about this. If the world was going to end in eight days, you weren’t going to ruin the rest of their time by telling them they have an official expiration date. “Um, we can look it up later.”

You could feel Five studying you carefully. “You really care about your work, don’t you? And your coworkers.”

“They’re like my family,” you admitted.

Five chuckled darkly. “Probably less dysfunctional than our actual family.”

“Definitely,” you agreed. You hesitated for a moment, debating asking Five the question that had been on the tip of your tongue. “So are you going to tell the rest of our siblings what’s going on?”

“I will when they’ll be useful,” Five clipped.

“I don’t think that’s very fair. They could help.”

“Whatever you say,” Five mumbled. “I’m going to get some sleep.” Before you could say anything else, Five closed his eyes. You knew from experience that Five wouldn’t respond to anything else you said, whether he was actually sleeping or just faking, so you resigned yourself to silence for the rest of the drive.

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

“I still think this is a bad idea. Let’s go back to the house and come up with a better plan.” Five continued to squeeze the fake eye in his hand as the elevator climbed up.

“Unless you think you can hack into their system and see who the eye belongs to, this is the only plan.”

You shrugged, thinking about what you already knew about this company. “I’m actually not a bad hacker. If I can use Dad’s good computer it might even be possible for me to find the name.”

“We don’t have time for ‘might.’ We have to find out whose eye this is as quickly as possible. Then we can-”

“Stop the world from ending. Yeah I get it. You can’t get mad at me when they won’t give you the name just because you ask though.”

Five turned to you with a strained smile on his face. He was probably trying to look like a normal kid, but he looked a little bit like he was about to murder you. “You forget that I’m now a child. No one’s going to question a child who’s just trying to do a good deed.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t respond. The elevator doors opened and you followed Five out. The floor was very modern. Windows and glass walls everywhere. Five turned around slowly, taking it all in.

“Uh, can I help you?” You took the man in silently. Lab Coat. Badge. He could help if he wanted to, but you doubted he would. Styled hair. Straight tie. Pens neatly arranged in his coat pocket. He was too much of a rule follower to break protocol and give out personal information. Though the friendly inflection of his voice suggested that he would struggle with the decision internally.

“I need to know who this belongs to.” Five held up the eye.

“Where did you get that?” The man’s brows drew together in a mixture of confusion and concern.

“What do you care?” You groaned internally. For a guy who was basing his plan off of people not being able to turn down children, he was not trying very hard to act like a likable child. You could see Five tense up slightly before he forced himself to continue. “At a playground actually,” he said, not sounding at all like someone who would be at a playground. “Must have just popped out. I want to return it to its rightful owner.”

“Oh what a thoughtful young man,” the receptionist said, smiling sweetly at Five. You debated interjecting to help him, but decided instead to watch how this played out. Observe how the employees act before attempting to manipulate them.

“Yeah just look up the name for me, would ya?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Five couldn’t be more unlikable even if he tried. Maybe so long without human contact had messed with him more than you realized.

The man started shaking his head. “Patient records are confidential. That means I can’t-”

“Yeah I know what it means,” Five interrupted.

“But I’ll tell you what I can do. I can take the eye off your hands and return it to its rightful owner. I’m sure they will be very grateful. So if I can just-” The man reached for the eye that was still clutched tightly in your brother’s hand.

“Yeah you’re not touching the eye.”

The man looked at you in disbelief. “Is this your son?”

You looked Five over. “Um yeah. That is my son. He really just wants to return the eye to the owner, and I’d really like to not have it around. If you could just give us a name or address or something. I know it’s supposed to be confidential, but-”

“But she’s a federal agent-”

“No I’m not,” you interrupted quickly. “I will, however, make a very generous donation if you could just give me the name.”

The man started shaking his head again. Five suddenly tried to lunge at him, but you managed to grab his arms before he could.

“Listen here, asshole,” Five yelled as you started to drag him towards the elevator.

“Thanks so much for your time,” you called. You didn’t release Five until the elevator doors had shut completely.

“Why didn’t you make him tell us?”

“I told you I wasn’t going to do that. You know, you’re very bad at acting like a child.”

“That’s because I haven’t been a child in years. I’m in my fifties.” Five continued to seethe beside you.

“Then don’t come up with a plan that relies on people giving you what you want because you’re a child.” Thankfully, your phone started ringing, saving you from Five’s response. You frowned at the unfamiliar number, but answered anyway, if only to delay Five’s anger. Your frown deepened as you listened to the voice coming through your speaker.

“Who was that?” Five asked. He was glaring at the eye in his hand.

“That was someone at the police station asking me to go pick up Diego. You’re on your own for now. Let me know when your next attempt is, unless it’s going to be illegal. I don’t want to bail out two brothers on the same day.” With that, the elevator doors opened and you left your brother glaring after you.

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

Thankfully, it was easier to find Diego than it was to find the owner of the eye. He was being led through the bullpen by a uniform officer.

“Excuse me, officer.” You called, hurrying over to the man. “I got a call telling me to pick up this one. If you could just uncuff him, I can sign or pay whatever and we’ll be out of your way.”

“Detective Patch asked to see him before we let him go,” the man replied. You shrugged and gestured for him to lead the way. 

“I can’t believe they made you come down here. Normally they just let me go. Rodriguez, what gives?” Rodriguez shrugged. “Oh well. At least you were still in town.”

“Only because of Five. He showed up at my office this morning and made me come back.”

Diego turned to you, a look of shock on his face. “So Five got to see Quantico before me? C’mon, Y/N! That’s so not fair.”

“Not my problem.” It was easy to determine which of the people in the bullpen was Detective Patch. You had heard Diego talk about her before. He was sitting at a desk while another detective stood next to her, saying something you couldn’t quite hear. Diego noticed your focus and seemed to realize that he should be quiet.

“-get this, 1938.” The man bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, but Patch rolled her eyes.

“Tell them to run it again.” She handed the evidence bag back to the man, who seemed to deflate a little bit, but took it without complaint. Patch noticed Diego then. Her eyes flicked to you curiously. “We’ll pick this up later. Uncuff him.” Rodriguez uncuffed Diego, who thanked him and then took a seat like this was a normal thing for him. It probably was, you realized. She studied you carefully when you stayed standing behind Diego. “Sorry, you are?”

“Y/N.” You held out your hand, which she took after a second of hesitation. Her handshake was unsurprisingly firm, but you noted the small look of surprise when she registered your strength. “I got a call asking me to pick him up.”

“Not that I’ve ever needed a babysitter to pick me up before,” Diego said. He grabbed a paper on Patch’s desk, which she promptly snatched back. “So, did you talk to the tow truck guy?”

“Shut up and listen carefully.” To your surprise, Diego actually did. “The next time you interfere with one of my investigations, I’ll charge you with obstruction of justice. You will do jail time. Then, getting out won’t be as easy as calling your girlfriend to come pick you up.” The only way you realized you were the ‘girlfriend’ in question was because Patch glared at you. You considered correcting her, but shut your mouth.

“Girlfriend? No gross. That’s disgusting. She’s my sister. Right, Y/N?” Diego turned to look at you. “Y/N, why aren’t you saying anything.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure if this was some angle you were playing. I’ve already had to pretend to be Five’s mom today, so I was just going to go with it.”

“What?” Diego and Patch asked at the same time. You waved your hand to indicate that it didn’t matter. Patch continued to study you for a second before turning to Diego.

“Look, Eudora-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You love playing by the rules, but you live for putting the scumbags away. So, for one night, put down the badge and come out on the streets with me. Without all this bullshit.”

“You’re right. That does sound super fun. But I think you missed some things when you got yourself thrown out of the police academy, so let me explain. All this bullshit,” Patch said slowly, like she was talking to a toddler, “is what gets convictions in a court of law.” Diego leaned back and sighed, but you had to nod along with her. “What you do is fantasy. I would love to put on a mask and play superheroes and feel important, but guess what? Recess is over. It’s grownup time. You’re still trying to prove that what you did when you were kids, running around in those stupid uniform, that it wasn’t for nothing.” You couldn’t see Diego’s face, but you could see his jaw clench at her words. He turned to face you.

“Do you agree, Y/N?”

Patch scoffed slightly before looking at you. “No offense, but I don’t really care what she thinks. If she’s your sister, the one that isn’t the actress or the writer, then she’s a mask wearing vigilante too, I assume.”

You smiled tightly at her. Truth be told, her words had stung you a little bit too. Wasn’t that exactly what you had been trying to prove by joining the FBI? That everything you did as a kid, that all of that training, wasn’t for nothing. But you didn’t let that show on your face. Instead, you pulled your badge out of your pocket. “FBI agent, actually. I agree with you that all the bullshit is necessary for a conviction. Unfortunately, Diego normally has good instincts, so, if I were you, I would talk to the tow truck driver.”

“You’re a real FBI agent?” Patch asked, not bothering to hide the disbelief in her voice. You nodded. “What department?”

“Behavioral Analysis Unit,” you responded impatiently. You had a bad feeling that if you left Five alone for too long he would definitely do something illegal.

“Can I see your badge again?” You rolled your eyes, but handed it over to her. “Sorry, it’s just that your idiot brother shows up with fake badges all the time, so I have to be sure.”

“Do you want to call my supervisor? I can give you his card. His name is Aaron Hotchner,” you offered sarcastically. Patch seemed to come to her senses then and handed you back your badge. As she did, the detective she was talking to earlier walked past, catching sight of your badge.

“Woah! FBI? Maybe you can make sense of our rogue fingerprint then.”

“No don’t-” Patch started, but the man continued.

“Diego can tell you about the crime scene, but all the ballistics matched guns found at the scene, so we should assume that all the idiots shot each other, right? Simple robbery gone wrong.”

“But it’s not,” Diego interjected. Patch threw her hands up in frustration that no one seemed to be listening to her.

“Some of the guys were stabbed, though. And the prints on the knife don’t match any of the guys at the scene. They do match a print from a cold case from 1938. Weird right?”

Your brows knitted in confusion. “And the tow truck driver is a witness?”

“He left before any shots were fired. Your brother seems to think that we need to interview him, though.”

“And you don’t?” you challenged. Patch met her eyes with a small glare. She shook her head. “Any other witnesses?”

“An employee. She was in the back when it happened. Said that driver and his son were the only people in the restaurant before she went back. She heard the car drive away, then gunshots started,” Patch said, resignation clear in her voice. You were glad that she had given up the fight. This case actually piqued your interest.

“She say anything about the driver and kid?”

“Driver had an eclair, and the kid had coffee,” Patch answered.

“Where was this?” you asked, ignoring the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“The donut shop we used to go to when we were little,” Diego said. “You remember it?” You nodded, trying not to give away how fast your mind was racing. It couldn’t be Five, you told yourself. That would be impossible. Diego slammed his hand on the desk excitedly. “You should get your team on this case, Y/N.”

“That’s not really how it works. I can’t just decide that we should work a case. We have to be invited in, then we have to decide to take it. And besides right now I shouldn’t-” you cut yourself off.

“You shouldn’t what?” Diego pushed. At your silence, realization dawned on his face. “Oh they’re pissed at you. They know that you’ve been lying to them, and they’re pissed. Well, you still have the badge, so they haven’t fired you. Are you on probation of something? Is that why you’re back here?”

“I have a trial next week,” you snapped to shut your brother up. You took a deep breath, then turned to Patch, who was watching you with a raised brow. You held out a card to her. “You might not trust Diego’s opinion, but I hope you trust mine. That’s the number for my team. I think this case isn’t as open and shut as it seems. If you’d like the help of the BAU, feel free to call.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised that both Hargreaves as rule breakers,” she said slowly, ignoring the card in your hand. Finally, she took it, then turned to Diego. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

You followed Diego out of the police station. To your surprise, he somehow managed to keep his mouth shut until you had exited the building.

“This is great!” He spun around to face you, causing you to step back a bit in surprise. “With your team on the case, you’ll be able to tell me everything happening and I can still work the case. Could you bring me on as a consultant or something?”

“Diego, stop.” The tone of your voice made your brother snap his mouth shut. “I have a trial next week. Until then, I’m on desk duty. If I go back to work, then all I’ll be doing is paperwork. And I don’t even know if my team could take a new case. They might still be working on Dad’s death.”

“Dad’s death? But there’s nothing to work on.” Some passersby eyed Diego warily as he idly spun a knife around his fingers.

“They’re supposed to rule out all possibilities before any conspiracy theories start to gain traction. The Bureau assigned them the case, so they don’t have a say.”

“And you don’t know whether they’ve finished?”

You shook your head. “If I so much as glance at a file for the case, then I’ll be gone from the Bureau.”

“If you’re in so much trouble, why are you here and not at your desk being a good little FBI agent?”

“My boss told me I could take time off before the trial. There are a lot of people curious about seeing an Umbrella Academy kid, so our floor was getting a bit crowded. And then Five showed up and asked me to come back.”

“Woah, what? Why did Five ask you to come back?” Diego stopped walking and turned to look at you seriously.

You hesitated before answering. Five had said he didn’t want to tell anyone about the apocalypse yet. Even if you didn’t agree with him, shouldn’t you respect his wishes? And even if you were going to tell someone, Diego probably wouldn’t be your first choice. There was no telling when he would do. Probably land himself in jail again.

“You can ask him about it,” you said finally. “He just wants my help getting some information.”

“Ah. Is he trying to reintegrate into society? Geez, I can’t imagine how messed up his head is. Have you profiled him yet? Or just taken a peek inside his brain?”

“No, Diego. I don’t profile family, and I don’t use my powers.”

“You did yesterday,” Diego muttered sarcastically.

“On that note, I’m going to leave you before I’m tempted to use them again. I assume you can find your car. Wherever it is.” Before Diego could respond, you were in your car and driving away. You could see Diego yelling in your rearview mirror, but you didn’t stop to hear what he said.

You tried to focus on finding Five and figuring out what your next plan for stopping the apocalypse would be, but you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering back to Patch’s case. It didn’t really make sense that all of those men would fatally shoot each other in the short amount of time between the tow truck driving away and the employee coming out from the back. 

And then there was the fingerprint. The donut shop you went to when you were children. It’s a place Five would go to get coffee. He was familiar with the area. It would be a place of comfort to him. But he couldn’t have been involved in a case from the 1930s. He had to have time travelled back to the present as soon as he figured out how to jump backwards. Still, you couldn’t get rid of the unease in the back of your mind. If your team did take the case, what would they find?

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

“Back again, ma’am?” You grimaced apologetically at the receptionist, who was eyeing you warily. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m looking for my son. He won’t let go of this whole eye thing, so I guessed he might be here.”

The receptionist nodded and gestured to one of the glass walled offices. “He and your husband are meeting with the boss in there.”

You turned, a slight grimace on your face, to see who Five had decided was your husband. Klaus. In one of your father’s suits. You were tempted to leave them and find out how they failed when they got back to the house, but instead you took a deep breath and headed towards the office. As you were reaching for the door handle, Klaus punched Five, then leaned calmly over the desk. To be fair, there were a couple times over the past 24 hours when you had wanted to punch Five. Still, you rushed into the room, ready to stop whatever your idiot brothers were doing.

“I want it. Name. Now, please,” Klaus said calmly. The man looked between him, Five, now sporting a bleeding lip, and you. You shut the door quietly.

“Klaus, what are you doing?”

“Oh, how nice of you to join us, Y/N. I’m just trying to get a name for our darling son.”

“You're crazy,” the doctor said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. He was unsure of how to proceed. Unsure of just how far Klaus would go. Knowing Klaus, the answer was a lot farther.

Klaus laughed. “Oh, you got no idea.” He looked down at the snowglobe on the desk. The doctor followed his gaze, panic written plainly on his face.

“Klaus, don’t-” you began, but before you could finish Klaus had picked up the snowglobe and smashed it on his head. To the businesses credit, they must have really good, soundproof walls. No one outside of the room seemed to have any idea what was going on inside. You threw your hands up. “I don’t know why I bother.”

“God that hurt,” Klaus groaned.

The doctor grabbed his phone and began furiously dialling. “I’m calling securi-”

Klaus grabbed the phone from his hand. “There’s been an assault. We need security now.” Ever the dramatic sibling, Klaus sounded incredibly pathetic as he whimpered over the phone. “Now here’s what’s going to happen, Grant.”

“It’s Lance.”

“In about 60 seconds, two security guards are going to burst through that door, and they’re going to wonder ‘what the hell happened’ and we’re going to tell them that you beat the shit out of us. And they’re going to believe us. Because we’re bleeding, and we have an FBI agent who will back up our story.” Klaus turned to look at you, blood dripping from his head and silver stars still stuck to his face. “Right, honey?”

“Stop telling people I’m an FBI agent.” You sighed, hating what you were about to do. “Right now I’m just a mother and a wife, who just had to watch her family be harmed by someone who’s supposed to be helping people. And all because my son wants to return an eye that he found.”

Lance looked between the three of you in horror, before getting up and going over to a filing cabinet. He riffled through it for a few seconds before pulling out a file. The brows pulled together in confusion. “Huh. That’s weird.”

“What?” Five snapped.

“The eye. It hasn’t been purchased by a client yet.” You stood over his shoulder, looking at the file. “The eye with that serial number...this can’t be right. It hasn’t even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?”

Your blood ran cold as your eyes scanned the file. He was right. So your one lead wasn’t even useful. Not yet at least. Without responding to Lance, Five began walking towards the elevator, leaving you and Klaus to follow.

“I’m really sorry about all of this,” you told Lance. “It’s a long story.”

“If I ever see you three here again, I’ll have security escort you out immediately.”

“That’s fair.”

“Well, this isn’t good,” Five stated as the three of you left the building.

“Yeah but I was pretty good right? ‘What about my consent, bitch?’”

“Klaus, it doesn’t matter,” Five snapped.

Klaus spun in a circle, his arms out wide, before facing you and Five. “Why? What’s the big deal about this eye?”

“There’s someone out there who’s going to lose an eye in the next seven days. They’re going to bring about the end of life on this earth as we know it.” Without waiting for Klaus’s reply, Five began walking away. His hands were balled into fists and his shoulders were so tight that he looked like he had a hunchback.

“Right. Can I get my 20 bucks now?” Klaus spun on his heel and began following Five, who turned around furiously to face Klaus.

“The apocalypse is coming and all you can think about is getting high?” Five seethed.

“Well I’m also quite hungry. Tummy’s a-rumbling.”

“You’re useless.” Five sat heavily on the steps of the building. “You’re all useless.”

“Excuse me. I came back here because you asked me to.”

“Yeah, but you won’t do anything to actually help. You could have asked your technical analyst to hack into their records, but you didn’t. You’re all useless.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel, maybe I’ll just go back to DC. Spend my last days on with people who actually care about me.” You turned back towards your car, every intention of getting in it and leaving Five in the dust.

“You just want to get back to your new boyfriend,” he called after you, making you stop in your tracks. Spencer. You had to save the world for Spencer. Didn’t the two of you deserve a chance to be together? And didn’t the rest of your team deserve a chance to live the rest of their lives. Shouldn’t Hotch and JJ be able to watch their children grow up? You took a deep breath before turning back around to face your brothers.

“I know why you must be so uptight.” Klaus sat next to Five, throwing an arm around him. Five looked at Klaus with disgust. “You need to get laid. I mean, all those years by yourself? It’s gotta screw with your head.”

“Well...I wasn’t alone.” Klaus raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Her name was Dolores. We were together for 30 years.” You were beginning to worry that Five might have been living some sort of Castaway situation, and Dolores was actually a rock or something that Five had convinced himself was a real person. 

“Not to break up this wonderful bonding, but you guys can’t do something like that again.” You looked between your brothers as you spoke. Five rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Or if you do, I can’t be a part of it. I can’t even know about it. If the Bureau gets wind that I’m doing something illegal, I could lose my job. Five, I’ve already told you that I’m on thin ice. I’m not going to risk it. Not even for-” Before you could finish, Five popped away. You saw him lean out the window of a taxi driving past. “-the end of the world.”

“Hey!” Klaus hopped up quickly. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, what about my money?” Five continued to wave as he drove past.

“Come on, Klaus.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “We can pick up some food on our way back to the house. I’m not buying you drugs, though.” Klaus shut his mouth quickly and began to pout. “That’s going to work. And If you don’t stop pouting, I won’t buy you any ice cream.”

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

You sat by yourself at the kitchen table, staring at the untouched dinner in front of you. Pogo and Allison were the only other people home. Last you knew, Allison was somewhere upstairs sulking. Apparently, she and Vanya had a fight earlier. Allison was so upset about it that you could feel the emotions wafting off of her as soon as you entered the house.

The texts on your phone were shining up at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer them. A couple from different members of your team telling you that they hoped you were alright since you left in a hurry that morning. But it was Spencer who had been making your phone buzz all day. He was worried, which was understandable. You had left quickly and your confession about your true feelings could be seen as alarming, especially considering what a stressful situation you had found yourself in.

You picked up your phone to respond to him when a call lit up your screen.

“Hey, Hotch. I was just about to respond to everybody. I just needed to come home. It’s been a crazy day.”

“Y/N, we’ve been called into a case that you are apparently already familiar with.”

“Hotch, I wasn’t trying to work that case. I had to pick my brother up from the police station and Detective Patch-”

“Detective Patch has already told me about all of that. What I need to know is if you really think there’s more to this case than a bunch of men shooting each other.” Even over the phone, Hotch sounded tense. You could hear rustling over the line and the faint sound of an engine. Was he on the jet?

“I do, sir.”

“Detective Patch does now too. There’s been a new development. We’re taking off in ten minutes and we’ll meet you at the police station. I need you to get down there immediately and begin setting up.”

“Wait, Hotch, I thought that I was on desk duty until my trail. I shouldn’t be anywhere near this case. And have you guys closed the case for my father’s death?” Hotch didn’t respond. You sighed when realization hit you. “Unless you think this could be related.”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss your father’s case with you. The Board of Directors said specifically that you had to be on this case. That’s all I can say. I’ll see you at the station.”

You put your phone down slowly. Various reasons as to why the Board of Directors would want you working on the case ran through your head. Considering your impending trail, none of the reasons could be good. 

You were shaken from your thoughts by Allison and Luther entering the kitchen.

“Y/N, you have to see this,” Allison said breathlessly.

“I don’t have time.” You stood quickly, leaving your dinner uneaten as you rushed out the door. “My team has a case. I need to get to the police station. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” You heard Allison and Luther calling after you, but you ignored them. Whatever they wanted to show you couldn’t be more important than this case. You had a bad feeling that this case might determine your future at the Bureau. More specifically, whether or not you’d have a future at the Bureau.

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

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@perfectlysane24 @mcntsee @ofbooksandaesthetics

[atlafan]

My Everything - Part Ten

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut! 6K

Masterpost

You and Harry let Buster sleep in the bed with you that night since you’d be away from him for so long. Niall drove you both to the airport the next morning. You were beyond excited for this trip. You and Harry were pros at flying together at this point. He knew to keep an arm around you while you slept, and he’d keep his head rested on yours.

When you get off the plane you each head into the bathroom to change into some lighter clothes. You brought a light green pair of shorts and a white tank top to wear, and Harry changed into a pair of light blue shorts with a black t-shirt. You both looked very ready for Florida.

“I can’t wait for you to bust out your real Florida clothes.” You giggle. “You know the ones that make you look like a grandpa in Miami?”

“Oh baby, I brought all that shit.” He winks. He reaches into his carry on and hands you your fast pass band. “We need ‘em when we get in line for the buses.”

You both navigate through the Orlando airport, and wait for the bus to your resort. You get on and about halfway through the ride you go into the Disney app to see if your room is ready.

“Oh look! Floor four, room 3000.” You show Harry your phone. “But our luggage most likely won’t be there until later tonight.”

“S’alright, we can at least stick our backpacks in the room for now.”

You hum your response. The two of you were in awe of the resort. You were able to use your wristbands to unlock the door, you didn’t even need to go to the desk in the lobby to check in. There was a note on the little table in the room.

“Listen to this!” You exclaim, and he turns to look at you. “Congratulations on your recent partnership, we thank you for wanting to celebrate your honeymoon with us. Let us know how we can make this experience even more magical for you.”

“That’s cute.” He pouts.

The two of you walk the grounds of the resort just to get familiar with where the pool and restaurants are.

“Alright, so we’re doin’ EPCOT this afternoon?” He asks.

“Mhm, look that’s where all the shuttles come.”

It takes a few minutes to actually get into the park, but once you do you couldn’t be more thrilled. They give you and Harry buttons that say “Just Married” on them for you to wear. You use your Fast Pass to go on Spaceship Earth first. You were mostly excited to get to the World’s Fair so you could eat a ton of the different food.

You and Harry have a lot of fun in Mexico, and go on the Donald Duck ride. You take lots of selfies as you go around from country to country. You ended up eating at a French restaurant that night and it was delicious. You both stayed in the park to see the fireworks and it was beautiful. Harry had his arms wrapped around you, chin resting on your head.

By the time you got back to your room, you were pooped. You both do your nightly routine and climb into bed.

“Oh my god, this is beyond comfortable.” You say.

“What’s on the itinerary tomorrow, sweetheart?”

“We are spending the day at Magic Kingdom. Our first Fast Pass is at Space Mountain. Once we use all three we can add more. Our reservation is at like 9AM, so we’ll have time for breakfast here.”

“It’s gonna be really sunny tomorrow, we’ll need sunscreen and all that.”

“We can also take a break in the afternoon if we feel like coming back for a swim before going back in for dinner. We’re eating in Disney Springs tomorrow.”

“Great first day, hm?”

“It was perfect.” You kiss goodnight and slowly drift off after getting comfortable.

//

“Are you sure you’re okay with goin’ on this ride? You hate roller coasters.” Harry says to you as you’re in line for Space Mountain.

“I think I’ll be okay. Oh shit…we can’t sit together?”

“It’s a single rider, you wanna go behind me?”

“Yeah.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh during the ride when he heard you scream and then start to laugh like you always did.

“I did pretty well.”

“You did, I’m very proud of you.” He kisses your hairline. “What’s next?”

“We are meeting Princess Ariel.” You beam. “She’s my favorite.”

“Sounds good to me. Gives us a chance to really walk through the park.”

There was even more wonderful food to snack on at Magic Kingdom. You both were just having an amazing time. The weather was beautiful and you had no cares in the world. Over the next few days you did everything in the Disney book. You had dinner in Belle’s Castle, you screamed your head off on the Tower of Terror, and opted to let Harry go on the Rockin’ Roller Coaster alone. You took a ton of pictures, especially in front of Cinderella’s Castle. You also tried every Dole Whip you could find in each park. The only thing was that most nights by the time you’d finally get back to your room, you both would be too tired to be intimate. And then in the morning, you’d have to get up, eat breakfast and get to the park. It was an amazing four days, but you were excited to head to Fort Meyers.

//

Harry rented a car for the two of you, and to the West Coast you went.

“God, that was so much fun, I already wanna plan our next trip.” You laugh. “I think Sarah had the right idea about a group trip.”

“Oh, definitely. We could all stay on resort, drink around the world, it would be great.”

“Maybe in a few years, yeah? It took so long to save up and pay off.”

“I agree, this is something you do once in a while. Thanks for takin’ care of most of the plannin’ for it.” He rubs your thigh. “Wait until you see the place we’re headed, you’ll love it.”

“I’m very excited.” You check your phone. “I was hoping Mariah would have sent us some photos…”

“She said she wants it all to be a big surprise. She’s working on making us a book and all that. Just be patient, baby. Then we can take our time goin’ through all of it.”

“You’re right. Plus, now we can go through all the pictures we just took. The one of you and Goofy has got to be my favorite.”

“I liked the ones you took with Woody and Bo Peep, that was hilarious.”

“Should we stop off at a grocery store before going to the house just to get what we need for the next few days?”

“Good idea, I don’t see us leavin’ too much.” He smirks.

“You know…and I don’t want this to kill the vibe at all…but the day we come back our flight is in the late afternoon, and we’re only an hour from Nannie. I was wondering if maybe she could come have breakfast with us?”

“On the last morning? Sure.” He shrugs. “She won’t mind takin’ the drive?”

“Nah, plus, she’d bring a friend with her. Thanks, I just feel guilty being in Florida and not seeing her, even though we just saw her.”

“No, I get it. I’d wanna spend time with her too.” He smiles. “She was so cute when she danced with me at the wedding.”

“She couldn’t wait to get her hands on you.” You laugh and put your hand over his. “Neither can I. Oh! Seth just texted a picture of Buster, our little baby boy.” You pout and show Harry quick. You can’t help but start laughing.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just…sometimes I think back, and like, did you ever think Seth would be one of your best friends?”

“No.” Harry laughs. “He really is a great guy, I’m glad he’s in my life.”

“I think he wants to marry Isaac, they could be next out of all our friends.”

“I wanna know what the fuckin’ hold up with Niall and Sarah is. I feel like something’s comin’ soon with them, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Sarah’s looking at new schools to work at…she, uh, really wants to get in at a prep school. They may start looking at houses soon.”

“Yeah, Niall mentioned something about that. He really likes living in the city, it would suck to commute like that.”

“I know.” You sigh. “They have a lot to consider. At least Rach and Mariah seem to be staying in the city for a bit longer.”

“I think Mariah wants to have a baby soon too.”

“Oh really?!” You squeal.

“Yeah, she’s mentioned it a couple of times. They haven’t talked about it much, but she wants to be the one to get pregnant and carry it if they do.” Harry chuckles. “Isaac even offered up his sperm.”

“Aw, what a sweetie.” You giggle.

You and Harry go grocery shopping quickly before getting to the house he rented.

“Oh my god.” You gasp as he pulls up.

“The boat’s already at the dock out back too. Got my license online and everything. We’ll be able to go out and enjoy a few rides.”

“Oh, I can’t wait, babe.” You get everything into the house and go outside. “Wow, this is really private.”

“Mhm, we can screw out here and no one would know.”

“Oh, stop it.” You swat a hand at him. You walk down further and feel the sand between your toes. “I can’t wait to swim. The boat is perfect too, honey, well done.”

“Wanna explore the inside?”

“Definitely.”

You both go back in. It was a simple ranch style home, but it was beautiful. The master bedroom was ginormous and it had a giant en suite. The kitchen was open concept and flowed naturally into a living and eating area. There was a nice patio out back as well.

“It’s perfect, Harry. Thank you.” You wrap your arms around his neck. “So…I spoke with Dr. Mara a few weeks ago, and I didn’t say anything to you, but I switched medications.”

“You did?” He steps back from you. “Seems like an odd thing not to tell me, Y/N.”

“I know, we just had a lot going on. I…wanted to be able to have alcohol for this part of our honeymoon. It was really hard not to get anything in Disney, especially while you were trying a bunch of stuff, but I was afraid of going overboard too soon. I want us to be able to be romantic and have wine and just really enjoy this part of things. Anyways, the new medication I’m on allows me to have alcohol in small amounts.”

“So that’s why you were so adamant about getting wine at the store.” He says in understanding.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to see how my mood changed and all that.”

“I literally didn’t notice a difference.”

“I know! So it’s doing its job.”

You both were feeling a bit nervous since you wanted this all to be special.

“Okay, what do you say we put our suits on, and head to the boat. We can bring some of the snacks we just bought and just have some fun on the water.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” You smile.

You put on a cute light blue two piece, and Harry had his yellow trunks. You pack up some snacks and water. You both lather each other with sunscreen, and go down to the boat. Harry uses a map so he knows where he can go. There was a sandbar that the owners of the house told him about.

“There! Where the other boats are parked.” You point out to him. “How do you even know how to do drive this thing?”

“I’ve driven a boat before.” He scoffs. “Have you met me? I’m good at everything anyways.”

You roll your eyes and nudge him. He parks the boat and throws the anchor. You open the bag of baby carrots and pop a couple into your mouth.

“Should we swim? It’s fuckin’ hot out.”

“You’re just full of great ideas today.”

You both get in the water and swim around. You splash and giggle and just have a great time. You both sit out and get some sun as well. Eventually, you go back to the house and Harry grills some veggie burgers for the two of you. As the sun sets, you both change into some warmer clothes, and he gets a fire started in the pit. He grabs some sticks and you get some marshmallows.

“What do you say, want some wine?” You ask.

“Mhm, if you do.”

“I do…I should probably stick to one glass so I don’t get fucked up.” You laugh.

You sit together outside and roast your marshmallows. You clink your glasses and enjoy the sweet red wine.

“Mm, I forgot how good wine tasted.” You giggle.

Harry’s arm was around you. He set his glass on the ground, and tilts your chin up to look at him. He presses his lips to yours and swipes his tongue along your bottom lip. He pulls away and smiles.

“I agree, very sweet.” He leans back and kisses you again. “Is it helpin’ yeh relax at all? I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“It’s helping, yeah. I know there’s no pressure, I’ll either come back pregnant or I won’t. It could stake a few tries, and that’s fine. This is all just so romantic, I want it so badly.”

“Me too, and when it’s meant to it will.” He assures you.

You both finish your glasses, and it definitely hit you. Your tolerance had gotten really low. You both clean everything up and head inside.

“That was a nice fire.” You wrap your arms around his neck and his go around your waist.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You get on your tip toes and kiss him.

He walks you into the bedroom and you both fall onto the bed. He gets you far back so your head can rest on the soft pillows.

“You looked so sexy in your swim suit today.” He kisses on your neck and you giggle. “I wanted to take it off with my teeth.”

“Aw, why didn’t you?” You pout. “Tomorrow I’ll put it on just so you can take it off that exact way.” He grinds his hips down against yours and you groan. “Knew you’d like that.”

“I’d love it.” He growls as his hands slide up under your shirt. Your hips buck up towards his. “Tell me what you want, angel.” His eyes were locked on yours now.

“I want to make a baby with you.” You say just above a whisper.

“Fuck.” He says under his breath.

He lifts your shirt off you and practically rips your bra away. He pulls his own shirt off and attaches his lips to your right nipple. Your hand tugs at his hair as he sucks on you. His other hand kneads your left breast. He moves to start kissing down your body, sucking wherever he pleases, leaving behind all of the marks he wants. Your body felt hot all over with every touch he left behind. He tugs your shorts and underwear off, and he licks his lips as you open your legs for him.

“We’re gonna take our time, okay? We have nowhere to be, so we’re in no rush.” He says, planting kissing on your inner thigh.

“Okay. I want this to be really good for both of us, it’s not just about me.”

“Tonight it is, but we have three more nights here after tonight, don’t you worry.”

You gasp when you feel his tongue lick through your folds and up to your clit. He does this a few times just enjoying the way you taste. His hands spread you further apart as he swirls his tongue around your clit. Your hands grip at the roots of his curls. He works two fingers inside you slowly, and it makes your head spin. He was really feeling around, he knew the territory well, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still occasionally explore. Plus, he knew you liked the way his fingers would stretch you out.

He nibbles and sucks on your clit as his fingers curl up against that spongey spot. You grind against him and let out soft whimpers. He was giving you exactly what you needed. He knew you were under a lot of pressure. Erica had been trying to get pregnant ever since her wedding, and she had a lot of trouble. She was only three and a half years older than you, and you weren’t sure if you’d run into the same issues.

“Oh fuck, oh my god, shit.” You were panting as his fingers picked up the pace. “Harry, oh my god!” Your head rolls back further into the pillow as you release onto his fingers. He retracts them slowly and sucks them into his mouth. “Get your pants off, now.”

He smirks and gets the rest of his clothes off. He hovers over you as you grip him in your hand. You drag his tip against your clit and folds, almost teasing yourself.

“God, I can’t wait to really feel you again, it’s been way too long.”

“I can’t wait to feel your come inside me again.” You line him up with you and he slowly starts to push in.

You both moan out once he’s all the way in. You clench around him, never wanting him to leave.

“If you do that m’not gonna be able to last long.”

“I’m sorry, you just feel incredible already.”

He smooths your hair away from your forehead and kisses it. He kisses your nose next, and then slots his mouth over yours as he rocks in and out of you. You wrap your legs around his waist and drag your nails down his back as his tongue molds to yours.

You were both sweating even with the A.C. on. It was pooling between your stomachs, but neither of you cared. You both were so caught up in just feeling good. He hooks an arm under one of your legs and drive in a little deeper. It hits just the right spot, and your nails sink into his ass.

“Right there, Harry, fuck.”

He sponges kisses to your neck and bites down on you. You lose it at that and he feels you come around his cock. He drops your leg and pulls out. He grabs your hips and flips you over. He spreads you apart with his thumbs and slides back in. One of his hands grips the back of your neck while the other presses into your hip. You loved this part. Sometimes harry would start out so sweet, make sure you came a couple of times, and then he’d get a little rough.

“How’s this?” He grunts.

“So good, so fucking good, rail me babe.”

He thrusts in and out of you faster and faster, but then he slows down. He pulls out of you again and flips you back on your back.

“What’s wrong?” You out.

“Nothing.” He slides back in. “I just wanna be able to see your face, that’s all.”

You smile at each other as he thrusts in and out of you again. His tip brushes against your g-spot so you grip onto his biceps to relieve some of the pressure building. You groan when you feel his muscles flex.

“Harry, please, I want you to come.”

“You do?” He grunts.

“Yes, please, I want us to come at the same time.”

He strokes your cheek and leans down to give you a kiss as his movements get sloppier. You can’t hold on much longer, but it doesn’t matter because the second you feel his warm come paint your walls, you release again. He moans your name as he continues to fill you up. You clench around him while he slowly pulls out so you don’t lose a single drop.

“You might wanna sit with your legs up for a few minutes, angel.”

You clamp your thighs together the second he’s out. He helps you shift and turn around so you can rest your legs up against the headboard. He sits next to you and looks down at your flushed face.

“How long do you think I should stay like this?” You giggle.

“Don’t know.” He shrugs. “Five minutes maybe?” You reach your hand out and rest it on his thigh.

“That was really nice. I feel like we haven’t been close like that in a long time.”

“I know.” He rests his hand on yours. “Things got really hectic, huh?”

“Mhm.”

You both slept really well that night. The next morning, Harry fucked you in the shower, and then again while you were trying to make breakfast. You had promised him he could take your swim suit off with his teeth, after all. You both enjoyed the sun and sand on your little private beach.

“I’m gonna dip my feet in the water.” You tell him and he hums his response, not looking up from his book.

Harry stretches and sets his book down. He tips his sunglasses down his nose to properly watch you strut down to the water. As you walk back you notice him looking at you. He makes a “come here” motion with his index finger. You giggle and go over to him, straddling him in the long beach chair.

“You’re hard.” You say into his neck.

“Mhm, can’t help it. My wife is just so sexy.” He grips your hips tightly.

“I could say the same about my husband.”

He reaches between the two of you and moves your bathing suit bottom to the side to rub your slit. His fingers easily slip inside you and you bite down on his neck.

“Can I fuck you our here?” He grumbles as his fingers work your insides.

“Yes.” You breathe.

Your hands roam down his stomach to the top of his swim suit. You pull out his hard cock and line it up with your center. He takes his fingers out of you so you can slip him in. It was the middle day, you two were out in broad daylight, and you were fucking in the open air. Normally you wouldn’t do something like this, but you really did have a lot of privacy.

He rocks you up and down on his cock. You prayed the chair underneath you wouldn’t break. He gets a little frustrated, so he picks you up and lays you on the towel you had laid out between your chairs. You giggle as he puts your legs over his shoulders.

“Tell me this isn’t more comfortable?”

“It is, you’re just cute.”

“Can’t get enough of yeh.”

He sucks on your neck in multiple spots, really making a mess of you. Your bathing suit top loosens from the way your breasts are bouncing up and down and he nearly comes at the sight. He grabs the front of it and rips it away. He dips his head down as he drops your legs to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You rub your clit as he does all of this and you start moaning out a little louder. He loved when you both would work together like this. He comes inside you just as you release.

After Harry goes inside to grab some waters, he sees you still laying on your back, spraying some sunscreen on your chest.

“What are you doin’?” He chuckles, handing you a water.

“When do I ever get the chance to just openly tan my entire chest? I’m taking advantage of the privacy.”

That night for dinner, you pack up some sandwiches, and harry takes you for a boat ride. You end up giving him a much deserved blow job. The rest of your trip was just sort of like this. The two of you making love any time you felt like it. There was one day you didn’t even really leave the bedroom, you could barely walk by the time you needed to meet your Nannie for breakfast before you caught your plane home. Needless to say, Harry wore you out in hopes of getting you pregnant, and you didn’t mind one bit.

//

Isaac and Seth had dropped Buster off before you got home so he’d be there waiting for you. You drop to your knees and let him lick your face when you see him.

“My baby! Mummy missed you soooo much!” Harry joins you on the floor with him and hugs him. “Daddy did too.”

“Should we, uh, buy some tests tomorrow?” He asks, petting his boy.

“Yeah, we could. I don’t know how soon you can tell though. We might have to wait a couple of weeks.”

“True, might not be a bad idea to just stock up on ‘em.”

“I’ll go to the drug store tomorrow after work.”

“Ugh, work.” He gets up and helps you to your feet. “Not lookin’ forward to that.”

“Me neither.” You sigh.

“Well, I shouldn’t say that, I just wish we could stay like this.”

“I know what you mean. If I could relive the last two weeks over and over, I would.” You walk over to the living room and gasp when you see the photo album sitting on the coffee table. “Harry, look!” You squeal.

You both sit down and snuggle up with the album. You both get glossy eyed when you look over everything. Mariah did an incredible job, not that either of you were worried.

“Your dress really was stunning, baby.”

“So was your suit.”

You look at each other. It didn’t take long until you were both naked and fucking on the couch.

//

“Look at how beautiful the castle was at night.” You were showing Niall a ton of your photos.

“The lights look incredible. Sarah’s been talkin’ about going now, I think you put a bug in her ear.” He chuckles.

“You two should definitely go! She loves the princesses and all that.”

“Believe me, I know. We were thinkin’ of going at the end of this summer.”

“Oh?!” You smile.

“Yeah, I, uh…well…” He takes his phone out and shows you a picture of a ring and you gasp. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Oh my god, she’s going to love it!” You hug him. “And she’d love a Disney proposal, are you kidding me?”

“She won’t think it’s cheesy?”

“No! She’ll die, oh my goodness.” You hug him again. “This is wild, we’re all so adult.”

“Well, I figured if we’re gonna buy a house together, I might as well put a ring on it before her dad kills me.” He jokes.

“What towns have you guys been looking in?”

“Right now, just the Milton area. We don’t wanna be too far from the city since I don’t plan on lookin’ for a new job any time soon.”

“It’ll be weird not having you across the street, but I understand wanting a home.”

“Do you think you and Harry will start lookin’ for a house?”

“Not anytime soon. We like living in the city.” You shrug.

“What about when you start havin’ kids?”

“Our apartment can handle a child. If we have more, which we probably will, then I’m sure we’ll need to move. But for now we can stay where we are. I’m kind of nervous. Erica’s been having trouble getting pregnant, and…”

“Hey.” He puts his hand on your shoulder. “It’ll happen when it happens, okay?” He smiles reassuringly.

//

When your period came, Harry seemed more upset than you.

“I guess I just don’t understand how it all works.” He sighs.

“We knew this could happen, we’ll just have to try again when I’m ovulating next.” You give his hand a squeeze and smile. “We need to try not to think about it as much. A lot of people conceive when they’re least expecting it.”

“I know, you’re right.” He kisses your cheek. “We’ll get there.”

//

Two more months had gone by, and you still hadn’t gotten pregnant. Harry was getting ready to take you away for your birthday. Just a simple weekend at a spa to relax. Your summer had gotten sort of stressful. You had gotten hired as a TL at your old college to teach a class online for the summer. It was going really well, and the class was just about over. Your passion for teaching students about media was growing stronger.

This meant, though, many of your nights had been long. You would often stay in your office after hours to get some grading and other work done. Harry hated it, of course. The stress couldn’t have been helping. It was nearly 7PM, and the office was empty. You just needed to get through some emails from your students and then you could go home to start your much needed long weekend for your twenty-seventh birthday.

There was a knock on the outside of your door. It was Harry with a bouquet of flowers. You look up and smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought we could go to dinner. Dropped Buster off with Niall and Sarah.”

“God, I’m gonna miss them when they’re not right across the street.” You frown. “But I’m happy their offer got accepted.”

“Me too. And what great timing that they’re headed to Disney soon too. They can relax from all the stress they’ve been under. I’m glad they’ve gone through it first, to be honest.” He closes the door behind him and locks it.

“No one’s here, you could’ve left that open.”

“Eh, force of habit.” He shrugs.

You stand up to give him a hug. He looks you up and down. You had a red, short sleeve blouse on paired with a black pencil skirt.

“These flowers are beautiful, thank you.”

“Happy almost birthday, my love.” He cups your cheek with one hand and kisses you.

“I just need to finish up some emails and then we can go.”

You sit back down and he comes around to stand behind you. He starts rubbing your shoulders just as you begin typing. Your fingers stop and your eyes flutter closed. Harry would always be your favorite masseuse.

“You look good enough to eat, you know that right?” He whispers in your ear, sending a shiver up your spine.

You send your last email and turn your monitor off. He spins you around in your chair so you’re facing him. You look up at him through your lashes. For years you had told Harry you’d never have sex in your office. But you were ovulating and extremely turned on.

“So why not have your appetizer here then?”

His eyebrows shoot up. He was expecting you to say no or to tell him anything other than what you just said. His hands drag up from your knees to your thighs, bunching up your skirt to your hips. He grips your panties and takes them off of you. He drops to his knees and puts your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to the edge of your seat. His tongue was on you in seconds, but he takes it away just as quickly. He nips at your inner thigh, sucking a very dark mark into your skin.

“Fuck.” You breathe as he does it to the other one.

He licks into you again, getting a very good taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit and sucks on you.

“Harry.” Your head rolls back, and the chair nearly tips over, but he steadies it.

One of his hands reaches up to grip your throat, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you come on his tongue. He stands up and undoes his pants. He licks his lips when he looks at you, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do to you first.

“Take me on the floor, please.” You beg him.

“Get on your back then.”

You stand up and lay on the ground. Harry chuckles as he gets on the ground over you.

“What?”

“Thought you would’ve wanted me to bend you over the desk.”

“No, I want it like this.” His lips ghost over yours.

You gasp as he enters you, and his tongue goes into your mouth. Yours molds to his and he swallows your groans. He carefully unbuttons your blouse so he can cup your breasts over your bra. He was ramming into you, and it felt incredible.

“Oh my god, Harry.” Your back arches slightly. Something about doing it in your office after saying no for so long was really doing something for you. “Holy shit!” You scream as he rubs on your clit. “Don’t stop.” You groan.

“Baby.” He moans. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.”

You wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to you. You knew your back was going to hurt tomorrow, but you didn’t care. He takes his other hand to grab yours, intertwining your fingers. He pins it next to your head. You use your free hand to grip his throat. You were thankful there was A/C in your office, or the two of you would be drenched in even more sweat than you were.

You tighten around him as you come to another release. He squeezes your hand as he comes inside you. Your grip loosens around his throat as you both catch your breaths. He sticks a finger inside you so nothing slips out, and then he grabs your underwear to slide up your legs.

“Hope you won’t be too uncomfortable at dinner.” He says as he helps you up.

“I’ll be fine.” You smile and kiss him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

//

At the end of the month, on their trip in Disney, Niall proposed to Sarah, and she happily accepted. You couldn’t wait to celebrate with them when they got back. The class you taught got amazing reviews in the course evaluations. You were asked to come in for a meeting with the head of the Communication Department.

“Y/N!” Dr. Harrison calls you into her office. You knew her very well. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” You shake her hand and have a seat. “Weird, last time I sat in this seat I was asking you about internships.” You laugh.

“Funny how things come full circle sometimes.” She smiles. “We were very impressed with how well your class went. We haven’t had students do so well with TL like this in a while. A lot of students who take summer courses take them to improve their GPA’s.”

“So I noticed. I had them send me intro videos for their first assignments, and a lot of them said they were grateful my class was being taught.”

“One of our faculty members is heading to another institution next semester. So she’ll only be here for the fall term. We have to start figuring out spring semester courses later this month. She teaches a lot of the film and media courses.” You nod. “You have your MEd, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re going to be searching for a new teaching position soon. I’ve been speaking with the other faculty, you were such a rock star of a student, and we were wondering if you’d consider applying once we open it.”

“What?” You were in shock.

“I know that’s a lot to ask, obviously, you seem to really like your job. You’re good at what you do, but you also seem to be a great teacher. We’d like you to teach more of our students.”

“I…I don’t know…see, my husband and I are trying to start a family, and my work has amazing maternity leave options and benefits. I mean, I could be pregnant now, and if I was that would mean I’d literally just make it to the end of the spring semester, and then I’d be on maternity all summer, and I know being a junior faculty means a lot of-“

“Y/N slow down.” She chuckles.

“It’s just, I essentially get six months off for maternity at my work…”

“I could get you some information about our union benefits. We have nine month contracts and twelve month contracts. Lots of different options. I don’t have kids of my own, but I have to say our insurance benefits are really great. You don’t have to decide anything right now, just know we’d love to have you. We’re going to open the position up at the end of September. At least consider applying, alright?”

On your way home from the meeting you had to pull over on the side of the road to throw up. You had taken the afternoon off from work to go to this meeting, so you go right home. You throw up again the second you get inside, luckily you made it to the toilet.

“What the fuck?” You say to yourself, and then it dawns on you. You get your phone and call Harry. You promised him any time you took a test that you needed to be together.

“Hey baby, how’d the meeting go?”

“Can you come home?”

“Um…uh…I have a client coming soon, why?”

“I’ve been throwing up all afternoon…I think I should take a test.”

“Oh! This shouldn’t take long, could you wait until I get home?”

“Harry.” You groan.

“Okay, take it, but don’t look at the results until I get home, please.”

“Alright.”

You go into the bathroom and take a pregnancy test. You had been trying for five months now, and you hadn’t had a symptom like this yet. You stick the test on the counter in the bathroom and go out to the living room. You had so many things to think over. Teaching had just become a new passion of yours, but was this opportunity worth disrupting everything right now?

You sit down and look over the union information Dr. Harrison gave you. You pull up your benefits package from work on your laptop and try to compare the two. The university, believe it or not, actually had better insurance policies. Being protected by a union would also be nice. This was the shitty part about working for a good business. You felt guilty for wanting something new. You were so grateful for everything, but you did the same thing every single day, and it just wasn’t giving you the same fulfillment it used to. You had been there since you were twenty-one, fresh out of college. You were twenty-seven now, maybe something new would be good. Besides that, you knew Niall had one foot out the door. Sarah had gotten a position at a nice prep-school, and he was looking  at some other companies closer to their new house. He needed to be able to move up, and there were no positions opening up any time soon. He had been at Mark It even longer than you. A lot was changing all at once.

You take a deep breath and tell yourself you’ll talk things over with Harry later. A couple of hours later, Harry bursts through the door with Buster. You stand up immediately and walk with him hand in hand to the bathroom. You both look at the test sitting there and take a deep as you walk up to it. Both of your eyes widen when you look at it.

[chosendestiny]

Wolf's awakening: Chapter 2

The trip to the city was quiet. The Guardian sat in her seat, with a distant look plastered on her face. It's been an hour or so since Ghost got the jumpship driving, and she didn't use this chance to sleep.  Her Ghost transmatted to her shoulder as he went to man the controls. Once he finished with that, he flew to her line of view. "I suppose you have questions." She nods as a response. "What am I?" She asks. "You are a Guardian. You protect the last city and the solar system from the Darkness." He chirps. "And what are the Fallen?"  "The Fallen are Scavengers - alien pirates picking at humanity's remains. There are different types of Fallen." Ghost shows various holographic imagines of the types of Fallen she met already; The shank, vandal, the Captain, and finally, the Archon. Ghost told her, "You already know about the Dreg, so I left them out."  As Ghost showed her the images of the Fallen, he explained their rank and who they were. The shank are drones used by the Fallen. They are used as scouts, fire support, and even a distraction. The stronger Fallen is a Vandal. They're stronger and in a higher class than the Dreg. Next was the Captain, they command of the Fallen Crew. Ghost showed the final image to the awoken. "And finally, this is the Archon. The one you saw before I transmatted you to the jumpship. They are the high priests of the Fallen." With that, his optic flickered, stopping the holographic presentation. "You got that, right?" She nods once again. "I can't believe I actually found you." He says. If he could smile with such happiness, he would. Ghost soon made a chirping sound as he looked out the window. He looked happy in a way. The little Ghost then turned to face his Guardian. "Now, we're about to reach the city," He said pleasantly. The jumpship continued soaring throughout the sky, driving towards a storm of thunder and lightning. As the ship maneuvered itself across the mountains, the clouds cleared, it glides into the light of the morning. And in front of the jumpship was a mountain range. The sight was beautiful. She wishes that she never gets tired of this view, hoping that this sight would always stay spontaneous. Soon later, Ghost and his Guardian saw an immense city sat below an enormous tower, so tall it nearly brushed the clouds. Floating above the city was this huge sphere.  The Guardian points at the sphere then turned to her Ghost. "That's the Traveler. It's the source of our light." He says. He faces his Guardian as he watched her look at everything with amazement, she reminds him of the children from the City. After the jumpship circled the large tower, it stopped above the platform. The Guardian and her ghost transmatted from within the ship to a large plaza area. She looked up in the sky to see her jumpship fly away, and then she looked at her Ghost. "Welcome to the last safe City on earth. The only place the Traveler can still protect." Ghost's optic fixated at the Traveler. The awoken looked at the Traveler while attentively listening to her Ghost. He turned to face his Guardian, floating a few inches away from her face. "It took centuries to build. And now... We're counting every day it stands." He shot to the other side. "And this tower is where the Guardians live." The awoken looks around to see some people wear armour, while some people were wearing regular clothing. She had gotten a few stares from guardians and some workers. She thought that it might be because she was new. As she made her way around the plaza, she's heard mutters and whispers. "Do you think-?" "It can't be." "I thought she died.." "She's still alive!" "She looks different than how I remembered her." She decided to ignore it, thinking that it was meant for someone else. The awoken saw a small building with a robot inside. Her eyebrows pinched slightly as she narrowed her eyes towards the robot. "That's Kadi 55-30. She is the postmaster in the Tower. If you have any mail, lose any weapons or armour then you can go to her. Someway, somehow, she always has it ready

for you to pick up." She nods as confirmation.  "The Tower is run by a group called the Vanguard. They lead the three different classes: Hunter, Titan, and Warlock. You go to them to pick which class you'll be in, then you report to whichever class you pick. But if you ask me - I think you're a hunter. Based on how you fought the Fallen." Ghost continues. His tracker led his Guardian down the small yet wide flight of stairs. Down the stairs, there was a bunch of guardians there who were running and jumping around. She came to a halt once she saw a wall in front of her, and on either side of the wall were two short sets of stairs leading out to a hall. She went towards the right side of the wall, and the hall led to a large room with an entire wall of glass. In the room, there was a huge table with three guardians standing around it. It must be the Vanguard that Ghost told her about. Ghost drifted towards the three Guardians and circled them simultaneously. They shifted their attention from Ghost to the Guardian as she approached them. Their expression on her looked as if they saw something familiar, especially the one with the cape. He was about to open his mouth to say something but closed it instead. He put his finger over his mouth for a moment as if he was trying to find the right words to say, then clasped his hands together. "Well, hey there, stranger. Welcome to the tower. I'm guessing you're a hunter, but I might be a bit biased here." He says with a smile. She tilts her head, slowly processing what he said, and nods as a response.  "Excuse, Cayde. He seems a little excited to meet new guardians." The dark-skinned Guardian says. "He believes that he can tell who'll be a hunter." "Hey! I'm right almost all the time.. But hey, no pressure in picking your class." He assures the awoken Guardian before him. "I'm guessing your Ghost has informed you about the classes?" The woman asks. She nods as a response. “Guardian, this is the Vanguard. Ikora Rey, Zavala, and Cayde-6." ghost chimed. "Cayde leads the Hunter class, I lead the Warlock class, and Zavala, the Titan class. Hunter specializes in stealth and athletics. Warlocks have their knowledge, and Titans have their strength.” Ikora quickly explained. "Nice to meet you all." The Guardian quietly says. Ikora kindly smiles. "likewise, Guardian." "Have you picked your class yet?" The Titan, who the guardian believes is named Zavala asked. The awoken nods sheepishly. "My ghost says I should join the hunter class." Cayde did a little fist pump in the air. "Yes!" "You should've seen her. She was like woosh- boom! She was so agile!" Ghost exclaims. Ikora chuckles quietly, then faces the hunter. "Cayde, you know what to do. She's your responsibility. Teach her everything she needs to know." "Don't worry. She's in safe hands." He says as he motioned the young hunter over to him. She listened. "So, rookie. Do you have a name I can call you by?" He asks her. She looks over to Ghost, then back at Cayde. Ghost sighs, drifting close to Cayde. "Uh, she doesn't remember anything. Not even a name."  The two looked at the Guardian, who was nodding in agreement. "I see.. Well, you should make a name for yourself." He says. Cayde puts his hands over his eyes, slowly moving his hands apart from one another. "So, imagine this. You hunt down the enemies. You kill them and leave. The boss'll come to see them dead, then be like 'who did this?!'" Cayde continues as he deepens his voice. Then he turned to the other side on his knees. "I-it was The Guardian, sir." "The Guardian, eh? I'll just have to deal with this myself." Cayde's little play finished with a small bow and earned a small giggle from the young hunter. He got back up, and handed her a chest piece. "Take this, kid. It's wild in the woods, ya know. Make sure to keep your eyes clear." She nods and takes the chest plate, but it disappeared before she can try it on. "I thought you were gonna call her 'the Guardian'." Ghost argued. "No, I'll call her, kid. They'll call her the

Guardian. Get your facts checked, little ghost." Cayde points at Ghost. The little orb rolled his optic and looked at his guardian. "We should go see Banshee. I believe he has a gun for us." Ghost insists. "Wait, lemme see your gun." Cayde says. She hands him her auto rifle and watches Cayde examine it. "Wow, this gun's a mess. Kudos to you for making it out of the Cosmo with this thing. You'll definitely need a new gun from Banshee." He says as he gives the young hunter the gun back. The young hunter waved off before she ran left. Cayde waved her farewell as he watched her leave. "You don't think that was-" He sighs. "It's her. But you heard her Ghost, she doesn't remember anything." "And we'll keep it that way. You know the rules," Zavala interrupts. "I know, I know," Cayde says, looking down at the map before him. ----------------------------------- She followed her Ghost's directions to see an Exo in front of her. He was cleaning weapons. "This is Banshee-44, the gunsmith." Ghost says. The Exo looked up from the stash of guns laid out in front of him. "Morning, Guardian. You're new, right? Pick a gun. I've been keeping them cleaned and prepped. Won't jam. That's important." Banshee says. The hunter looks down at the guns laid out on the table. There was a hand cannon, pulse rifle, auto rifle, and scout rifle. It took a moment, but her eyes landed on the hand cannon. She picked it up and examined it.  "That's a Duke MK.10. The impact is good. You should switch your guns." Ghost suggests, and his guardian listened. She replaced her auto rifle with the hand cannon, putting the hand cannon in her holster while Ghost transmats her auto rifle in her backpack. "Before we go anywhere, we'll need an update on our ship. It's been out of action for years. So, we should go to see Amanda next. She's a pilot, but she personally repairs and modifies guardian's ships and sparrows. She also sells some. I sent her a transmission if she could give our ship some repairs, she gladly accepted." He said. She nods with her eyes fixated on Banshee. "Thank you, Banshee." She says, then left to meet Amanda. Banshee looks up, confused as to who said that but shrugged it off. Her ghost led her to the Hangar. She looked around the area, seeing that her ship was in one of the landing pads. She walked up the stairs to see a young woman with blonde hair, who was sitting atop one of the counters. "Morning. Names Amanda Holliday. I'm the Tower's shipwright." She stated with a southern accent. She held her hand out, and the hunter shook it. "The Arcadia Class ships always were resilient. Shame about the warp drive, though. Still, luckily you didn't explode on take off! I'll see if I can take care of this piece of work, then I'll get you a new ship." The hunter frowned slightly. "Do you think you can fix it?" "Yeah, why? You wanna keep it?" She nods. "If it's alright with you." "Yeah, it's fine. Don't worry about it, I'll get to work. While I'm at it, head to Zavala. I sent him what you need to get for me." She nods and made her way back to the room. She runs down the stairs and walks up to the Titan. "Hello, Guardian." "Hello." The hunter replies. "You must be here about the report, yes?" Zavala asks as he held the datapad. She nods as a response. "Holliday is a skilled technician." Zavala puts the datapad down. "Your ship is fixed, however, her report says you're missing a warp drive." He activates the holopad on the war table to show the Guardian an image of the warp drive. "Is there a way we can find another one?" Ghost asks. "There should be one in the Cosmodrome. Return there, and get the replacement." "We're on it." Ghost replies. He then transmits the guardian to the jumpship and drives it off orbit.

[kunrendeotaku]

Chapter 16

I lead us towards Fergusson’s room, figuring his parents would be busy in the kitchen for a while after their customary weird greeting. I used to not bother knocking on my friends door when I walked in, but after a rather terrifying experience that I’m doing my best to forget from last year, I’ve changed my ways.

A couple taps on his door later and I see a thin guy with a curly jew-fro and thick glasses pull it open, “Marco! And random girl I don’t know! Ferguson, we’ve got company.” Alfonzo moves out of the doorway to open up the pathway into Ferguson’s room. I find myself wondering how Star will think of seeing the room of a teenage boy from Earth for the first time, as most people don’t have the same religious devotion to cleanliness as I do.

“Wha? Isn’t that the girl who almost burned down the school?” An overweight redhead with bright green eyes glances up at us from where he currently sits flopped on a bean bag, game controller in hand. Both of my friends are dressed rather casually in sweat pants and t-shirts, Alfonzo’s much too large for him. Is he borrowing some of Ferguson’s stuff again? The room itself is casually decorated with posters referencing various games and movies, and liberally coated in trash, old food, and dirty clothes. Smells about like you’d expect from a fourteen year old boy’s room.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Star claims innocently, widening her eyes. I had no idea she was half that good an actor. Either she really doesn’t remember, or she’s had a criminal amount of practice claiming to be innocent of her ill deeds. I think both possibilities are about equally likely.

“I’m just glad it apparently ended with only ‘almost’. This is Star Butterfly, the new exchange student. She’s from Mewni, which is uh. Apparently a different dimension. Go figure, we aren’t alone in the universe after all.” I shrug, realizing why Star tends to cast a big spell whenever she does her introductions. The claim is more than a little bit impossible to believe without seeing it with your own two eyes. Honestly, I’ve been so caught up in the craziness that is my life with her that I haven’t really adjusted my worldview to realize how much bigger everything really is. Who knows how many dimensions there are? How many have sentient life, or things we couldn’t even comprehend?

Ferguson struggles up to his feet in what I’m sure he thinks of as a graceful maneuver, before swaggering over to me. He leans an elbow on my shoulder with a confident smirk, “Marco Diaz, my man. Serving up a hottie on a platter for me, right here in my room? I knew there was a reason we’re friends.” Completely ignoring anything outside of the fantasy world he lives in, as usual. He’s a great guy, but I swear he’s even crazier than his parents. Star doesn’t seem to know what to make of the round red-head’s ridiculously forward nature. Honestly, I think she’s still trying to come to grips with how this kid had managed to come from his overwhelmingly attractive parents.

“Ferguson O’durguson, sweet cheeks. I’m into foreign chicks. Where’re you from again? Like, past New York?” Alfonzo wrings his hands behind his much wider friend, clearly worried that the redhead is going to get himself slapped again. At least ‘Casanova’ here isn’t using his sharpied on stomach face trick yet, most of the time he starts with that one.

“I’m the Crown Princess of the Butterfly kingdom! And you aren’t exactly my type, sorry. Wait-” Star squints at Ferguson, taking this whole thing much better than I expected. Maybe she’s already pretty experienced with dating, or something? She comes off as immature as hell, but I really don’t know much about Star yet, “Maybe with a stache?” Her wand snaps up and flashes a pink beam at Ferguson’s face. The spell resolves itself into a truly impressive red mustache wider than the rest of his face with twirled up tips. “Nope! Sorry, better luck hitting on the next princess you find.”

Both of my human friends stare with wide eyes at Star, who descends into a giggling fit. The first glimpse of real magic is always a shock, as you come to slowly realize that you aren’t dealing with just a crazy girl lost in her own imagination. You’re dealing with a magic princess, who happens to also be both crazy and often last in their own imagination. Alfonzo reaches around Ferguson to tug at his mustache, and both of them yelp when they simultaneously realize that it's real.

I disengage from the trio as they begin bombarding Star with the standard nerdy questions a teenage boy might ask a magic user upon finding out that it’s real. What her world is like, are elves real, can they learn magic, can he keep the mustache, you get the picture. I busy myself with some desperately needed cleanup while they manage their introductions, Alfonzo eventually getting around to explaining that his father is a very very busy Veterinarian. He tends to stay with Ferguson rather than sitting around an empty home.

Once I have the room in a livable state, I begin setting up a game for us. You might think I would feel used, cleaning up someone else’s room and doing all the prep work for us to have fun. The thing is, I’ve never once been asked to do anything for Ferguson but I literally can’t help myself sometimes. He’s just such a slob now and again, organizing chaos is writ into my bones. And what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t plan out something we could all enjoy getting to know each other with? They might never notice how I smooth things along, but it’ll never stop me from doing so.

“Hey, kids. I’ve got zombies set up. Who wants to see how many rounds we can go?” I call over to the trio of excited teens still standing around the doorway. Each of us has a beanbag and game controller set out, the game ready to start on the television with a press of a button. Ferguson was kind enough to always keep a spare bean bag for any exchange students I brought along, after getting a set for the rest of us.

Star gasps, her eyes sparkling, “Soft chairs!” she makes a face first dive onto the one clearly set for me by its maroon color. I don’t really blame her for ignoring the bland grey exchange student one, but it still stings to have my seat taken! Ferguson thumps back onto his prison jumpsuit orange bag, while Alfonzo delicately folds his legs under himself before taking a seat on his beige bag o’ beans.

“C’mon Star, that one was mine.” I whine a little, before obediently taking the bland leftover. At least it's still super comfy, as they all are. Star only wiggles around on the bag in answer, happily exploring the brand new feeling. I wonder how a medieval age person would react to sitting on a beanbag for the first time? Maybe a normal person might even panic a bit, but Star reacts to the new experience as she always does-with joy and excitement at the new challenge.

Once she masters sitting up straight on her chair, we move onto the next exceptionally difficult task. The following few hours consist of all three of us Earthlings doing our damndest to teach Star how to play videogames, primarily the zombie killing multiplayer game we tend to prefer. It doesn’t go that well, unfortunately. While she loves the idea of the game with a passion even I wasn’t expecting, she’d never before even seen a gun, much less a video game controller. There was a lot to go over. Shockingly, she seemed to remember all of it with a burning zeal that I can only attribute to her monster slaying side. I imagine a few more study sessions like that one, and she’ll be ready for actually playing.

[ari-auguste]

⌠ LUKA SABBAT, 22, MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, AREN 'ARI' AUGUSTE ! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in DRIVER'S ED and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (oversized knitted sweaters & flannels, chipped nails too short from biting them too much, colorful themed bandaids even when he doesn't need them). when it’s the (taurus)’s birthday on 4/30/1998, they always request their SHAMROCK SHAKE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

pinboard xxx

@gallagherintro​

about

he’s from georgia, the land of peaches, and yes. they’re his favorite fruit.

ari’s life was kind of a normal one. he had an older brother who was his best friend, a mother who loved him and a father who spoiled them every single day.

(tw death, gun violence) on ari’s twelfth birthday, his parents took him to the zoo, his favorite place on earth, and he remembers that day as both the best and the worst of his life. on their way back home, their car and a few others got caught in between gangs’ trouble, and with a round of bullets, everyone in ari’s car was killed except for him, thanks to his brother who used his body to cover him, thus saving him from harm. he was found by the police still underneath his brother’s lifeless body and immediately put in the foster system.

a part of ari’s brain simply blocked what happened. he knew the facts, and as trauma specialists treated him upon his arrival to the station, they realized that ari’s way to assimilate what had happened was seemingly too mature. they waited because they knew there was a lion inside him, ready to pounce and duel, but he never did. instead, ari retreated, became a shy, yet charming young man, with pretty distinctive interests. he threw himself fully into art, music, and books, everything that could keep him busy.

he never had his heart set on being actually adopted. he knew he was too old for that, and he didn’t stand a chance against other younger, cuter, less traumatized kids, but he was never actually bitter about that. instead, he enjoyed the change from foster family to foster family, and even came to love his foster siblings hard and fast, like he would with blood relatives.

despite it all, ari seemed to be a happy guy. he never skipped a therapy session, and even though school wasn’t his strongest skill, he went by, and soon enough, he turned eighteen, thus freeing himself from the system. but he had nothing.

it became apparent then that survival was ari’s strength. he was witty enough to get money (in mainly legal ways, although there were a few stolen pennys and twenties, maybe a wallet or two out of drunks in the streets). he played music in the streets, sold his art on special markets, he got by. it was when he got tired of georgia and wanted to try a bigger city like new york, that he committed his first big crime, his first big mistake, and yet his biggest blessing.

ari stole a car. it was a relatively easy task for him, which surprised him at first, and then simply just drove away. the adrenaline of the moment settling in his stomach, turning into pride as he got further from his hometown. two days later, there was a police alert on him and the car he was driving, so he stopped in the next station and got on a different model and drove away, until he crossed the entire country all the way to LA. this was the greatest adventure of his life, and even though he knew the cops were on his heels, he didn’t stop. if he was going to go down, he would go down fighting, the adrenaline in his body spoke. 

it was a few weeks later when he was finally chased down somewhere in LA. some neighbor had said something and it seemed to be all over for him, but he did what he knew best and took said neighbor’s car and attempted to drive away, if only for one more taste at the adrenaline. it was all over the news, the chase that lasted hours. he managed to dodge the police in ways nobody had ever seen before. it was better than any movie, and the sense of pride he felt as he listened to the narration of his own chase on the radio as he sped up through the highway was something he never felt before. the high he chased all his life. but it could only last so long before he fucked up the brakes of the car and ended up crashing against a dumpster in the middle of nowhere. he lost consciousness in the car, and next thing he knew, he was in jail.

his life was over, it seemed. it had been a good run, but he hadn’t been smart enough. he couldn’t afford a lawyer, he was guilty of charges. there was no way out. except one day a strange man showed up, someone he never saw before, but knew too much about his life, his reasons and his need to be free, and exchanged his freedom, for his admission  and loyalty to gallagher.

miscelaneous

he’s got too many tattoos all over his body. all of them with some sort of meaning nobody knows. it’s passages from his life in art designed by himself.

he likes to draw people, but he appeals to the essence of people. what they look like to him in his head, not exactly portraits, but something more abstract.

there’s always a pencil on him. stuck in his hair, behind his ear, in his pocket– anywhere, really.

he’s always drumming on tables, his knees always bouncing. he’s rarely ever quiet, he’s always humming a song as well.

he loves comic books? he dreams to make his very own graphic novel, and he’s very passionate about those.

he disassociates a lot, but has an odd capacity of attention. his brain just catches little details even when it seems he’s not listening.

he’s charismatic, although shy, but that’s where his main charm lies.

he laughs like goofy.

if he has the option, he will not wear any shoes. he hates them. but he loves funky socks. they’re the best present someone can actually give to him.

very detail oriented. he will remember what you dressed, what you smelled like, what your hair looked like, and very specific words people said. he quotes them a lot.

he loves making lists??? idk. he wanted me to add that. idk why it’s relevant. he likes order.

he loves ducks. he has a rubber duck collection in his dorm (sorry roommates). 

wanted connections

people he met in LA people he met in atlanta someone with a crush on him (he wouldn’t even imagine) people he’s had/has a crush on (he’s timid when it comes to relationships, he’ll just simp) stoner buddies art hoes comic book nerds  exes  that one ex who was his first everything on his first year friends someone who can’t stand his chill and pseudo self acceptance rants someone who takes advantage of him anything your heart desires and ur mind can imagine

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Reboot Recap Reviews!: The Rumble For Ragnarok!

The Family wrassles for the fate of the universe as The Million Dollar Mallard , takes on the people’s champ. Dewey grapples with the perils of x-pac heat, while Huey grapples with the commentary booth and Launchpad actually knowing something. IT’s time for Ragnarok N Wrestling under the cut! 

Heloooo and welcome. IT’s your boy jacob mattingly here as always with... nobody. I just wanted to refrence OSW review. Anyway today’s crack is an episode that like the last two I looked forward to and did not disapoint. Admitley this is because i’m a casual wrestling fan; while I like things taking a shot at wrestling more than actually watching it (though if I had acess to AEW that’d change), I do highly respect the sport, and yes even if the winners are deterimined ahead of time and everything’s scripted it’s still a sport. Besides the obvious fact many have been injured and some killed or paralyzed doing it,  it takes a lot of effort to do it, injuries can happen even if your doing eveyrthing right just by freak accident, and you sometimes have to work AROUND said injuries to change the finish. And that’s not getting into not having any control about how sucessful you’ll be no matter how good you do if the bosses simply don’t like you or having to work though mounds of pain or other bullshit. The point is, these fine men, women and non-binary persons work their asses off so yes I felt it necessary to take a paragraph to honor that.  This episode itself does a good job too: it GETS why wrestling works and works it good. The premise is simple ish: Scrooge has decided to take his nephews and niece with him to his once a decade bout with Jormangadr, a nice call back to Last Christmas! and i’m glad we elaborated on that. And as you probably know, it turns out in the duckverse, vikings invented pro wrasslin. The why is really good and is why I don’t mind this episode despite the pacing this season being eh: While the plot’s moved pretty glacially the theme of legacy has been baked into every episode: From what it’s worth, to people creating a legacy for you, the theme has been far stronger this season than the past two , and it was strong there and it makes up for the main plot taking it’s sweet ass time to get anywhere. Here it’s at it’s strongest: Scrooge is aware that while he can still add a decade or two magically, he’s not immortal and won’t always be there. He knows he needs to pass the torch.. and thus he knows that by the next time this would roll around it’d be the kids turn. As for why not his actual children, I actually like the justifcation for not including donald and della as it works: “They can’t cooperate on a jigsaw puzzle much less the fate of the world”. Which.. is 100% true. The two love each other clearly.. but they couldn’t go thorugh a space battle for the fate of earth without squabbling, HOURS after reuniting after a decade. Their first interaction was screaming at each other. While their good siblings.. their still siblings. The triplets, while still prone to sibling fights are easier to work as a team, probably because there’s always a third to break up a fight, and now there’s a 4th in webby, it’s much easier to trouble shoot than with two grown ass adults who have fought their entire lives and aren’t going to stop now even if they do care about one another.  As it also turns out Scrooge is playing the heel, which he’s a natural at and does easily. And that’s part of the charm here: they do what MANY wrestling movies, tv episodes and what not have trouble with: what’s real and what’s kayfabe. Here the fight’s entirely a shoot, and suspension of disbleief on moves that would take coperation is easy because these ducks are badass and their fighting a pig, hella and son, and a world serpent that can shapeshift from actual serpent to sexy snake man. It dosen’t have to make perfect sense. But the ducks still play rolls because Scrooge knows his place here, and knows his crowd: To them, JOrmangadr winning means the end of humanity and a bigger world for them in vallhalla with quintillions joining them. While Team Earth knows it’ll be terrible, the only earthlings present are our family. So Scrooge is more than willing to be the million dollar mallard and put on a good show and play the bad guy. However things quickly go pear shaped as Scrooge, after winning the first matc against a pig guy with super strength granting hair, gets a chair shot and has to rely on the kids... and is down to half of them at that since Louie, the second he realizes theris a merch table, gets to work selling, even working the crowd with anti-scrooge and dewey shirts, while Huey settles into commentary with Launchpad. It’s now up to Webby, Dewey and Scrooge’s reinfrocments he called because he knew Dewey would probably maybe fail completely in beakly to save the earth.  But before we get back to that i’ll get to the commentary subplot real quick: It’s fucking hilarious and I like not only reuniting huey and launchpad, as their commentary in missing links was fucking great, but reversiing it: Golf is a very structured sport Huey likely had lots of time to study. Here, without checking his guidebook oddly but he probably simply didn’t have time and by the time he did felt discoruged, and without prep, i’ts launchpad, whose a huge fan of wrestling, whose the expert. Launchpad, being more instinctual and spur of the moment is able to combine his knowledge with his entusasim and be a hell of a commentator. It’s only when Louie advises Huey to do the oppsoitie of his usual instinct, structure and plan like hell, and just roll with it like launchpad that the boy excels. It’s also nice to get some Huey focus in what’s supposed tobe his season, but despite being a huge Huey fan that hasn’t bothred me much either: Louie’s focus also got staggred out over the whole season. Dewey... not so much, but clearly Louie having a good CHUNK of episodes, while still spreading the focus all around, was a direct reaction to that. I do question why the Dewey episode that could take place at any point is at this point in the season but I don’t knokw what else they have in the tank at this point so eh.  The main plot, as I made clear, though is Dewey. While Webby is actually DAMN GOOD at playing the heel, and it’s a nice bit of continuity as while she’s all sunshine and rainbows Webby both has a sarcastic streak as the series goes on and a good sense of battle quips, see the study the blade bit in timephoon. Dewey on the other hand thrives on approval and his attempt at getting the fans to pop with with looks like the bastard child of zack morris and 90′s superboy, mostly 90′s superboy, only makes them hate him.  But we do get a nice moment here. While Dewey does loose the team a match, Jormangarnder agrees to a battle royale for it, and Scrooge .. is entirely fine Dewey isn’t good at playing the heel. Besides preparing for it, which admitely makes the boy feel worse, he knows that not everyone can do the unpopular thing it takes to be a hero sometime. I’ts just not for everyone, and he gets that adulation and attention obessed Dewey just.. can’t take being hated and loathed. Scrooge is used to it, life and times more than proved that being rich means people will automatically look down on you for BEING rich and scrooge has had decades of that kind of shit at this point. Dewey is just an 11 year old boy. It’s okay he’s not there yet. But soon eveyrone takes a turn at jormanganr, even beakly who has a whole costume ready and likelky has been here before, and looses. Dewey is their last shot.  But Louie, as things look dire, turns from merch to inspiring his brothers, Huey as shown above and Dewey with the fact that, as he pointed out earlier when selling anti-dewey t-shirts, he always knew how this would turn out: and cheers or no, Dewey can dew this and can be there hero. And like Lex Luger he can turn from a heel to a face awfully face, finally letting himself be a heel.. and his determination not to give up, while Jormangander uncessarily toys with a child and pummels him, turns the crowd to his side. He pulls a stone cold, and witht hepigs help jackhammers the champ and wins the day. It’s a really great moment: Dewey still gets what he wants..by putting the world over his own desires and EARNING it. And with a final great shot, Scrooge steals the belt from dewey for a fun rematch between great uncle and grandson. Also Dewey piledriving a snakeman was fucking awesome. Great work.  Overall this was a great episode, while it dosen’t move the plot forward, which is a series wide problem and not just this season, it’s still great fun, great character stuff and really that’s why this season has been great: even double o duck, which was just okay, has been great and as we piledrive our way into hiatus, we can at least take comfort in getting a ton of great episodes and having more to come.. probably montsh and months from now but still, it’ll be worth the wait. Until then, i’ll be trying to do mroe reviews, so shoot me an ask or message if you have any suggestions. I take sugggestions as well as full on comissions, and there are no bad suggestions. Until next time, Later Days. 

[thestuckylibrary]

Mods’ Reads: January 2020

Here’s the list of everything the Mods have read this past month!

Mod Blue

Sine Tactu by justanotherStonyfan (complete | 22,586 | M)

“Want me to help with this?” Steve says quietly, head about level with James’ stomach as he stares up at him, fingers reaching up for James’ fly, but James shakes his head.

“No,” he says, wets his lips - Steve is all skin and muscle and he’s totally naked and he’s right here and- “no, I’m.” He swallows hard. “I’m not getting naked. This is about you.”

Part 29 of Honey Honey

Propius by justanotherStonyfan (oneshot | 6,178 | E)

Steve comes home kicking snow off his shoes, although a lot of it’s gray colored, and he’s shivering. Despite that, his cheeks are bright with the cold and his smile is bright with affection, camera in hand.

“Hi!” he says on a breath, shoulders hunched to keep the cold air out of his collar, and James smiles, crosses the conversion to reach him, and grabs the trailing ends of Steve’s scarf to draw him down for a kiss hello. “Mh.”

James wrinkles his nose as Steve’s nose presses into his cheek.

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he says, and Steve laughs softly.

“Yeah,” he says “That’s why I came back inside.”

Part 30 of Honey Honey

I Believe In Something More by cydonic (complete | 74,304 | M)

In April of 2014, two very important things happen: The Winter Soldier is prepped for a mission as part of Project Insight which never ends up happening, and Steve Rogers finds out his mother is dying.

In October of 2018, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers meet in the Sculpture Garden at UCLA. Bucky has spent the ensuing years building a life for himself, learning that he likes to study in the sunshine and build friendships with people who just think of him as ‘that nice guy who’s really smart’, not what he used to be. Steve has tried to make it in Brooklyn, but everything reminds him of Sarah. He needs a change of scenery, and following his childhood best friend Sam Wilson over to California seems to be the way to do it.

Rare Is This Love (Keep It Covered) by histoires_eternelles, musette22 (complete | 66,773 | E)

It's 2014. Captain America has been out of the ice for three years and is trudging along, saving the world and trying to get used to living in the future. Steve thinks he knows how the rest of his life is going to pan out – a life of duty, which he chose when he signed up to be Erskine’s science experiment. But then, he meets Bucky Barnes: the out-of-this-world-gorgeous mechanic and war vet, who turns Steve’s life upside down and makes him question everything he thought he knew. Slowly, Steve comes to realize there is more to life than duty and punching Nazis. Just one problem though: how on earth does a 96-year-old virgin who only just realized he may not be entirely straight make the transition from crush to relationship? Cue healthy amounts of self-doubt, awkward flirting, pretty blushing, existential crises, emotional growth, and maybe, possibly, a sexual awakening.

darling heart, i loved you from the start (but that's no excuse for the state i'm in) by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 19,725 | T)

“I thought you’d make a terrible Nazi but turns out you’d make a terrifying one instead.”

The year is 2012. Loki has vanished with the Tesseract, and Manhattan is a blazing wreck. A very tired Steve Rogers goes home and meets another very tired Steve Rogers.

Or, the one where Steve saves the mind stone for last and decides to fuck the timeline beyond all recognition, which regrettably involves crawling delicately up Hydra's asshole and less regrettably involves showering a very confused Bucky Barnes with affection.

Kissin' by the mistletoe (Love came to stay) by obsessivereader (oneshot | 4,949  | E)

“I told you,” Steve wheezes, as he tries to catch his breath. “Didn’t I fucking tell you we'd fall if you didn't quit pushing?”

He’d laugh if he had any air left in his lungs. Instead, all he can do is stare up at Bucky as the sound of his carefree laugh winds its way around Steve’s heart. He barely even registers the cold seeping in through his jacket and jeans as he lies in the snow, attention catching instead on the snowflake clinging to Bucky’s lashes. Were Bucky’s eyes always that luminous? The crinkles around his eyes so endearing? Were his lips always that pink?

Bucky’s laugh dies away at Steve’s continued silence. A strange expression settles on his face, like he’s looking into the face of a stranger for the first time, studying and cataloging Steve’s features one by one—eyes, nose, mouth.

Based on this tweet, which has, sadly, been deleted: FUFJFJ ITS SNOWING A LOT IN NY RN AND IM WALKING HOME AND THESE GUYS ARE LIKE PUSHING EACH OTHER IN THE STREET AND ONE GUY GOES “YOU ASSHOLE STOP PUSHING ME IM GONNA FALL” AND THE OTHER GUY WAS LIKE “.... For Me?” and the other guy was like bro... no fuck you” AND THEY BOTH FELL

Part 2 of Happy Steve Bingo!

thot through the heart (and you're to blame) by Deisderium (complete | 9,899 | E)

"You look like shit," Steve says, and that breaks the spell a little because fuck you, Steve, he looks good. Steve's nostrils flare. "Is that—is that blood on your mouth?"

Oh, fuck. Bucky needs to work on not being a sloppy eater. He wipes his mouth hastily, and without thinking, licks his hand clean. Steve stares.

*

In which Bucky is a baby vampire, a disaster, out to have a good time, and hopelessly in love with his roomate; and in which Steve has a few secrets of his own.

Part 1 of food for thot

Scratched Ragged and Rubbed Raw by cheesethesecond (oneshot | 3,788 | T)

“How are you gonna sleep tonight,” Bucky asked, letting his head fall back against the wall and closing his eyes, “knowing that a guy who tried to kill you is sleeping in the next room?”

“Like a baby,” Steve said.

This Lonely Hour Before Daybreak by cheesethesecond (oneshot | 2,912 | T)

Steve knew there would be good days and bad days. That’s how this sort of thing worked.

Except sometimes, the bad days go like this.

Something Great by dragongirlG (oneshot | 1,485 | G)

The Soldier knows he is not Bucky Barnes, but he still seeks out Steve Rogers after the helicarriers fall, inexplicably craving Rogers' affection. Rogers gives it. (Basically, the Winter Soldier wants a hug. Steve gives him that and a little more.)

Based on a prompt from withinmelove: I have a love for Winter Soldier as his own person so Winter Soldier and Steve cuddling is my prompt! Maybe WS is touch starved and is really eager to be affectionate with Steve who is happy to be close and tender with him.

The Right Partner* by LeeHan (oneshot | 41,651 | E) *graphic violence

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong,” Bucky said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “but I believe I was promised a mocha.”

When he turned to look at Steve there was laughter in his eyes and a touch of heat in his smile.

Dating a civilian was always risky. Luckily, Bucky seemed like a nice, genuine guy and Steve knew he could gently reject him with the smallest shrug and that Bucky would accept his decision easily. It was the smart thing to do.

“Don’t forget the croissant.”

—

Steve meets a beautiful man with a bright laugh on a sunny day in Italy. Captain America meets the elusive Winter Soldier moments later.

Date Bucky Barnes. Defeat the Winter Soldier. Bring down Hydra. How hard could it be?

Pedantic Affectations by fannishlove, relenafanel (complete | 15,858 | M)

Steve Rogers: khaki pants and ugly tweed wearing art history professor specializing in historical queer art (by day). Is actually Captain America, vigilante and the bane of Detective Barnes’s existence (by night).

Detective Bucky Barnes: A very clever cop who suspects something is up with Steve. Is frustrated that Captain America exists and is dedicated to finding him because he loves a good puzzle.

So, how does Steve convince Bucky that he's too boring to be Captain America? Go on a date with him.

(Steve is kind of really, really bad at this secret identity thing)

The Comfort in Certainty by justanotherStonyfan (complete | 20,554 | E)

"You were right when you said we need to talk," Steve says softly ... "Is there anything you want to say first?"

... James can't stand the suspense. If it's going to happen, if he's going to do it, James wants that bandaid ripped off now.

"Is this a breakup talk?" he says, and his wishes his voice would be stronger but he’s almost glad that it’s not.

Steve takes a deep breath in through his nose.

Part 31 of Honey Honey

Honeypot by cleo4u2, xantissa (complete | 133,204 | E)

Preconditions: One Sasha Marozow - internationally renowned assassin for hire, known as the Winter Soldier, ex-Hydra operative freelancing for the last five years; One Steve Rogers, Captain America - recently defrosted national hero and Avenger; One assassination contract; One set-up known in the intelligence community as the “honeytrap”.

Expected Result: One Winter Soldier in custody, the name of his employer attained.

Actual result: Definitely not as expected.

Part 1 of Honeypot

Give Up the Ghost* by cleo4u2, xantissa (oneshot | 19,518 | E) *graphic violence

They were happy together and the year had been good for them. They thought nothing could tear them apart. They were wrong.

Part 2 of Honeypot

i'm a believer (got a fever running through my bones) by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 16,742 | E)

Everyone knows Captain America is an alpha. His tragic romance with Howard Stark is as popular a topic for movies and academic papers as his exploits in the war. Sure, Stark never said a word, and he clearly moved on, given that Tony Stark is currently alive. But even now, people like to gossip in hushed whispers about how sad it is that Howard Stark passed away a mere two years before they found the good Captain in the ice.

Bucky gets it, alright? Alpha/omega is the norm. Matches sanctioned by god or whatever bullshit your conservative Christian sect of the day likes to ramble about. It’s the twenty-first century, and the world still runs on a maddening policy of straight until proven otherwise. Thing is, Bucky has most certainly proven otherwise and has been doing so since he was a wee alpha panting after some knothead or the other because being queer didn’t magically make him any less stupid than your average horny teenager.

Bucky’s an alpha, Bucky likes alphas, and he’d love nothing more than to climb Steve Rogers like a goddamn monkey bar.

- Steve meets Bucky on a flaming helicarrier. It’s not the most romantic first meeting, what with the Nazis and the bullet wounds, but they make it work.

the jackpot question  by biblionerd07 (series, ongoing | 16,126 | G-T)

Steve needs a ride home for Christmas. Bucky needs a passenger.

Winter Gorgon* by Quarra (complete | 74,067 | E) *graphic violence

For as long as Steve could remember, all he ever wanted to do was what was right. So when he hears about his father's old regiment being held as POW's by the Nazis, he's determined to put what Doctor Erskine gave him to good use and goes AWOL to rescue them.

But the 107th isn't all he finds there. Deep in the labs is a very unusual prisoner; one with snakes in his hair and a mask nailed to his face. Despite the man's monstrous visage, Steve can't in good conscience leave him to the enemy. That one act of mercy will change his life, the course of the war, and even the future of the world.

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter Two

Shane the hero strikes again, I scoffed to myself. He had pounded our resident asshole Ed to a bloody pulp. No one likes Ed, hell I’m not entirely sure his wife and daughter like the man, so none of us were surprised that SOMEONE finally gave in to the urge to make his lights go out. All the fat dickhead did was bitch and moan, boss his wife and daughter around, and sit on his lazy ass. Perhaps if anyone else had done it, but no, it was Shane.

I’d witnessed the tense conversation between Lori and him. I knew personally how well Shane took rejection. My only wonder was whether Ed was surrogate for Lori, or my dad.

Carol took the beaten and cowering Ed away to deal with his mess of a face. I was certain she had more personal knowledge of how to deal with a beating than any of us, and it sickened me. Carol was a good person, one that didn’t get added to my least annoying list only because she wasn’t allowed to interact with me, or any of us outside of chores. It’s somewhat hard to get a good handle on a person if they can’t seem to make eye contact with you. I’d done some volunteer work at a women’s shelter while at school. I’d seen the same haunted look in most of the women and children’s eyes that I could see in Carol’s. I could tell that her hair was buzzed off because it gave him less chance to grab her hair and yank her to him when he was pissed. I knew, because I’d seen other women do the same. And I watched them, impotent to stop them, go right back to the Eds in their lives.

While all the excitement was happening beside the quarry, Amy and Andrea were on Dale’s boat fishing. Color me shocked when they decided to do it, since I hadn’t seen that either of them were proficient in more than laundry and passable at dinner prep. Hell, Andrea kept a gun on her that her dad had given her and she didn’t seem to realize that every time she acted like she’d use it the damn safety was still on. My dad always told Carl and me that anyone who hadn’t been properly trained in the use of a gun, shouldn’t have access to one. While I didn’t take it from her, I also didn’t tell her that she couldn’t shoot it with the safety on. I kept Carl from being helpful, too. And Amy, well we were close in age, but that’s where the similarities ended. She was blonde and a bit too sweet for our new reality.

I was truly surprised when the two of them came back with a cache of fish. Wow, I thought, who knew that the two of them would prove useful. I knew that Andrea had gone with the others on that horrible supply run that ended up bringing my dad back while leaving Merle to die, but from what I could gather, the only help she gave came after Dad showed her how to turn the safety off. Honestly, Dad, don’t you ever remember the lessons you taught your own children?

While they prepped the fish, I went back to the Dixon tents and tidied up. I didn’t even notice the hysteria that Jim’s hole digging caused. I guess Shane didn’t want to have another conversation with me about any danger.

That night, with Dad and the others still away, all hell broke loose. By the time Dad, Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog arrived, the worst of it had happened. Not the killing of the dead, but the attack that left three of ours dead or with dead looming ever closer. Ed died almost immediately, though his screams will stay with me forever. Amy was attacked and held on, Andrea clutching her even with her knowing the inevitable. Jim, however, came as a shock. He hadn’t made a sound, so finding out he’d been bitten was horrifying. Dad and Daryl nearly came to blows over what to do, and then we started to pack up camp.

It was a whirlwind. Burning the dead, burying our loved ones, and finding out that part of our group was leaving the rest of us. We headed to the CDC. Daryl was getting into his truck when I was faced with another choice. Easy, just like the choice of whose tent to stay in. I could ride with Shane, since he was alone in the jeep, or ask Daryl to let me ride with him. Dad and Lori were packed in with Carl, Carol, and Sofia. I could have fit, but that was cramped and I didn’t like the chances that it wouldn’t get a little miserable. Daryl it was.

“Hey.” I said, walking up to him. “Mind if I ride with you?” I could see him weighing his options, something he’d never really done with me before. “It’s you or Shane.” I said, pleading with him silently.

“Sure.” He grunted, opening the door and gesturing for me to climb in. I tossed my bags in the back, but kept my bow with me. We got into the line of vehicles leaving and I settled in for a quiet ride. A short way out, he spoke again. “I don’t blame ya for what your dad did.”

I looked over at his profile, he was still tense, but I knew that him and my dad would have quite a while before this blew over. “Thanks, I guess.” I answered, turning to watch out the windshield as he drove. “You don’t know him, but my dad, he does what he thinks is best. Always. He’s one of those overly moral people, I think.”

Daryl snorted, and I understood. What kind of man is so moral he leaves another trapped on a roof with no water or food? One who thought the others were in danger from that man, I answered myself. Dad didn’t know Merle. He didn’t know the type of man he really was, and while I didn’t approve of his ideals, or his bigotry, I knew that he loved to read. When he’d seen the books I’d brought, he’d asked if he could borrow one. He ran through them faster than even I did. And the things he knew, like really knew, would have shocked everyone in camp. Everyone except me and Daryl, actually. Was he an asshole? Yes. Was he hateful and mean? Sure, sometimes. It doesn’t mean he didn’t have anything to offer, but why would that matter when people like Andrea “I don’t know what the safety on the gun is” are around and don’t like him?

“Do you think going to the CDC is a good idea?” I asked, figuring Daryl would have an opinion at least. “Or is it a wild goose chase?”

He studied the road, the skyline, seeing more than I ever would. “I think we should have a go and see approach.” His blue eyes wandered back to mine, and he gave a half smile. “Beats being back there waitin’ for them to come to us.”

I chuckled and we rode on in silence until our caravan stopped. Jim wasn’t doing well, he knew he was dying. Having the RV steaming hot, gave him the time he needed to ask to be left behind. Dad, always thinking of the person inside of the dying, tried to give him a gun. Ending his own suffering, that sounds lovely, I thought. Jim, being the considerate man who had dug all those grave-like holes back at camp, declined. And so we left him in the shade, to die, but not really die. I shivered, after saying goodbye, knowing what Jim was in for. Would we see him again? Part of the ever growing hordes, coming closer and closer, trying to bite and kill us for our sympathy?

Daryl and I climbed back in the truck. Dad asked if I was sure I didn’t want to get in the RV with Jacqui and the others, but I shook my head. “I’m good, Dad.” I said, smiling at him through the open window. “We’ll be right behind you.”

The weirdest parade I’d ever been a part of restarted and we headed back into the city. To the CDC, for a cure that I’m not sure any of us really believe existed.

HOURS LATER

Dad managed to convince the only remaining doctor at the CDC to give us refuge. Dr. Jenner, there was something a little off about the man, but I figured hot showers, real food, and sleep in a bed were worth giving him a pass for being an odd duck all alone in this massive building.

Taking my first shower in what felt like years, but apparently was only two months, was like heaven on earth. And then dinner, with wine? Seriously, is this even reality? Before I could head to my room, Daryl stopped me.

“Hey, Jess?” He wasn’t looking at me, but he was gnawing on the side of his thumb. That was the tell for him being nervous and uncertain. “Look, I know we got our own rooms and all, but-”

I understood. He was used to sharing space with me, and this was the strangest day we’d had so far. “Sure, let me grab my pillow.” I smiled, and ducked into the room I had been offered. Grabbing the pillow off the small bed, I wondered how we’d manage to make it work in his room. I shrugged and came out to meet him in the hallway. “Where did you pick?”

Daryl had picked the room farthest from everyone. Of course, it was a Dixon trait after all. I followed him inside and saw that he’d picked a double room. I didn’t actually need the pillow, but was happy to have it anyway. “Figured,” his voice would always sound rough, I knew, because he barely used it, “if you’d agree, you’d want your own bed.”

I smiled up at him. “We would have figured it out, Daryl, one way or another.” I reached for his hand and felt his fingers link with mine. I wondered if he felt that weird tingle like I did anytime one of us touched the other. Well, anytime I touched him. He’d only done it once, in the woods when he brushed my tears away. I bit my lip and realized neither of us was moving. “Should we-” I gestured to the beds.

I saw him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then I was reaching up and he was bending down and his lips brushed mine. I felt fire rush through me. I was hot all over, and he was barely even kissing me. My hand released his and then both of mine found his head, holding him to me. I deepened the kiss, needing him more than I could articulate. I felt his hands fall to the small of my back and he pulled my body flush against his. If I had expected Daryl to fight against what I was feeling, it was a foolish expectation.

Our lips pulled apart only when breathing became necessary. His eyes locked on mine, and I saw how dark they’d grown. How had I never seen it? Never realized how he felt, how I felt? Daryl Dixon would always see everything and I’d always be playing catch up.

“Damn, girl, that was a long time comin’.” He whispered, his breath fanning across my swollen lips. His hands were rubbing my lower back, still keeping a respectable distance from anything too forward.

“Worth the wait?” I asked, licking my bottom lip.

He chuckled and swayed with me in his arms. “Yeah, worth the wait.” He was smiling and I would kill to see it more often. “We don’t have to-” he stopped, and glanced at the beds.

“I know we don’t have to, Daryl,” I whispered. “We haven’t even though we’ve been sharing space for what, two months now?” I smiled up at him. “That was the longest courting ritual I’ve ever heard about.”

His smile held. “Courtin’? Nah, I just figured that you wouldn’t want me to try nothin’. After all, you’re a college girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “What made you decide to take the chance, Dixon?” I asked, running my fingers through his short hair.

“You picked riding with me, even after your dad asked if you wanted to ride with Dale.” He said, pulling a hand away from my back and running it along my cheek. “I can understand ya not wantin’ to ride with Shane, but Dale? Hell, he ain’t so bad.”

“Picking you made you take a shot, huh?” I cupped his cheek in my own hand. “Well, thank God I decided to ride with you instead of squeezing in with Dad and the family.”

We pulled apart and sat down on the closest bed. He pulled my back against his chest and just held me. “Mean it though, we don’t gotta do nothin’. Not tonight, not until you’re sure.” I smiled at the sensitivity that the man everyone saw as a ruffnut redneck was showing me. “Now that I know ya want me, I can wait forever if I have to.”

I turned my head so I could listen to the steady beat of his heart. Steady and sure, just like the man it belonged to. “We could force these two small beds together and sleep together. Really sleep, for now.” I offered, and felt him tighten his grip around me. “Unless you don’t want to.”

He nearly groaned. “Course I want to.” He let me go so we could stand up and get to work. “Don’t think these are bolted down,” He said, looking at the legs of the small bed. “Let’s slide this one over to that one,” he was pointing at the one we’d sat on. “Further from the door, so we can see anyone comin’ inside.” Ever vigilant, I thought.

We worked quickly, pulling the beds together and working so the sheets and blankets over lapped. I tossed the extra pillow in the middle and we had a pretty decent sized bed. I smiled up at him and pulled down my jeans. My boyshort panties and tank would have to do for pajamas, since I didn’t plan on searching for any others. I watched as he tugged his own off, leaving just a t-shirt and his briefs. “You want inside or outside?” I asked, since part of our bed was against the wall.

“You take the wall, and I’ll be on the edge.” He answered, just like I figured he would. He’d stand against the world for people he cared about.

I crawled into the bed, lifting our combined covers up and sliding inside. I rolled over and watched him lay down beside me. He rolled to face me, and we laid together for a beat, just taking in this new evolution to our relationship. My hand came up first, brushing the few strands of hair away from his forehead, so I could get a better view. My fingertips traced the planes of his face, touching his lips. Why didn’t anyone SEE Daryl? This Daryl. The softness of him, the beauty.

I felt his hand copy mine. It was like we’d never taken the time to appreciate one another, and I guess we hadn’t. “How old are you, Daryl?” I asked, because to me his face was timeless.

His chuckle vibrated against my fingertips. “Probably closer to your dad’s age than yours.” He nearly pulled away, breaking the spell we’d fallen into. I wouldn’t let him.

“I only asked because I can’t tell.” I said, holding onto his hand in mine. Keeping it on my face. “Sometimes it’s like you're older, and sometimes it’s like you’re my age.” My hand on top of his was feeling the strength, the calluses of his fingers were more proof. “You know I don’t have daddy issues, Daryl, so age doesn’t make a difference to me.”

“Bet your dad won’t agree on that one.” He replied, but didn’t try to fight against his urge to touch me. “Bet the whole damn group won’t like this one little bit.”

I scoffed. “Since when do we care about the group and what they think?” I did have a pang at the thought that my dad wouldn’t like this. I loved my dad and I craved his approval, which came so easily, but would he be angry about us? Would he hurt Daryl? I shook off the worry. “Don’t talk yourself out of this, Daryl, you just talked yourself into.” I smiled at him and moved the hand holding his to run down his arm. “You are one of my favorite people in this world, Dixon. You have been since the very first time you spoke to me, and spoke up for me.”

His smile had me knowing that he remembered the time as well as I did. “Had to,” he answered, following my lead to touch my bare arm. “Just cause you only had archery during summer camp didn’t mean ya didn’t know nothin’. And Merle was outta line when he called ya that.” I felt his fingertips run up my arm and across my collarbone. “Your skin is so fuckin’ soft.”

And hot, I thought, feeling the heat building with his touch. “And yours is,” I tested his skin, tracing the tattoos I found along my way. “Pretty damn amazing, taunt and strong.” I bit my lip, and saw his attention focus on my mouth again. “Gonna make me beg, Daryl?” I breathed, and then his lips met mine. Searing hot, as his tongue slid inside for a taste. My hands forgot their route, and clutched at his head again, rolling myself onto my back and pulling him along with me. Feeling his weight fall over me, I arched up into him. I could feel how aroused he was, and I hoped he knew that I was too. I rocked against his hardness, and felt my dampness grow.

“We shouldn’t,” he whispered against my mouth, even as he dived in again. I nipped his bottom lip and he fed me his moan. My tongue flicked against his, begging without words for us to keep going. He pulled back, keeping our foreheads together, but letting us catch our breath. “Not tonight, Jess.” He rolled over while I stared at the ceiling for a moment.

I moved over to rest my head on his chest. His heart was beating as fast as mine, and I knew he was being noble, because I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I felt his arm wrap around me, holding me to him, and his lips kissed my forehead. “You’re more moral and protective than most of our group, Daryl Dixon.” I giggled, feeling his arm clutch against me. “And I think I may be in love with you.”

I felt the breath leave him. “You think you are?” He whispered and I nodded. “Jessica I’m already there. I love you.” I moved to hold his hand, feeling his fingers automatically link with mine. “Think I’ve been in love with ya since the first time I seen ya.” He chuckled and I felt the rumble through my place on his chest. “Merle knew, hell he teased me somethin’ terrible. Just didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

“For a guy who sees so damn much, I’m pretty sure you’re blind.” I said, voice muffled against his shirt. “Pretty sure I feel the same, I’ve just never felt this way before.” I shrugged. “And what girl wouldn’t fall for someone like you? You’re amazing, Daryl.” I propped my chin up on his chest to look up at him. “Loving you is going to be as simple for me as breathing. That’s something Dad told Lori when they got married,” I smiled at the memory. “I never understood it until you.”

“Jess, I want ya to know that you can tell me anythin’.” Daryl said, caressing my face with his hand that I’d been holding. “Anythin’. And I plan on telling ya everythin’. No matter how painful.”

I nodded, knowing what he meant. He wanted to know what happened with Shane. “Not tonight?” I pleaded, thinking we needed one night to get used to being together. “Let’s just sleep and then we’ll share everything, OK?”

“It’s a deal.” He said, kissing my head again. He turned off the lights and held me as we fell into the first real sleep either of us had had since this nightmare began.

TWO MONTHS EARLIER~ GIVE OR TAKE

I stomped away from the others, bow in my hand feeling like kicking something or someone. Shane’s smug face came to mind. As I neared the forest, I felt the tickle against my skin that told me I wasn’t alone. I turned, ready to smack the asshole’s face finally, when I was confronted by the two loners of our group. Dixon brothers, rough around the edges and everywhere in between.

“Heard what you said back there, little girl.” The oldest, Merle said, nodding back toward camp. “What’s a hot piece of coed ass like you know about bows and arrows? Did ya play a lot of cowboys and Indians when ya were growing up? Wouldn’t mind a round of cowboy and cowgirl with you, myself.”

“Damn it, Merle, stop your shit.” The other one, Daryl growled, glaring at his brother. “Let’s see what ya can do.” He motioned toward a target I had been approaching.

Shrugging and not fearing turning my back to the two of them, I was armed after all, I notched an arrow and let it fly. Dead center, right where it was supposed to go. I turned back and saw Daryl’s first half grin. And my only thought at that moment was that he was going to ruin my world. Because Daryl Dixon was beautiful, he was my light in the darkness. And I was fairly certain, as he looked at his brother and told him I could be an asset to their hunting party, he only saw me as a little girl who could shoot a bow.

[secret-engima]

Does Bast ever get seriously injured in combat? And i do mean serioulsy as in with one foot in the grave, not expected to make it through the night with coma and an endless recovery period? Could you write something for that?

Twice so far actually! Sorta. The Near Death thing yes, but recovery isn’t “endless” because I have boss fights to write still. Besides, since both are Chapter Spoilers I can’t include them. I know there’s a third coming up that will be covered in more detail/take longer to recover from but that is MAJOR spoilers so.... sure! I’ll make something up!

-It’s back in the FFXV timeline, back when Bast had only been a Kingsglaive for about two years. Looking back on it, the other glaive would honestly be surprised it took that long. Most of them wound up in the hospital for the first time within six months of being put on the active duty roster. But of course, his good luck couldn’t last, and when it crashed it crashed HARD.

-Bast is transported back to Insomnia well before his rotation is up and the medical bay is already prepped to receive him. He is kept alive the trip back only through the use of a truly staggering amount of potions, the other glaives on a constant rotation of healing spells (with much cursing that they are out of Phoenix Downs this ONE TIME-), and pure freaking stubbornness.

-Nyx is very, very quiet as Bast is wheeled into the emergency room and the surgery light goes on. Lib whispers that it wasn’t his fault, but they all know that won’t stop Nyx from blaming himself. He should have been faster. Should have timed his warp better, SOMETHING. Anything but come out of his warp and land wrong, twisting his ankle and delaying his escape just as one of the Nif’s weaponized Behemoth’s bore down on him-.

-Bast had come out of nowhere. Picking a fight with it long enough for Nyx to warp away. Bast had turned to follow, only for the beast to prove that it was far, far faster than it looked and send Bast flying with a powerful swat of its paw.

-The blow would have killed anyone else. SHOULD have killed Bast. No one is quite sure how Bast wasn’t dead the moment he hit the ground. Numerous broken bones, internal organ damage that was probably WAY worse than Nyx wanted to contemplate, out cold from the shock and pain of it being the only mercy. Potions had sewn shut the gaping claw wounds (Bast must have tried to phase through the blow at the last second, because otherwise the claws would have bisected him, Nyx has seen it happen before to more careless glaives), their few spare Elixirs had forced bones roughly back into some semblance of place and kept his heart beating, but what he had really needed was a Phoenix Down and they were out of those.

-They had rushed him back to Insomnia, and surgery was needed by the time he got there because Phoenix Downs only worked within minutes of the injury, not hours.

-Noctis, when he hears about it, is inconsolable and haunts the waiting room with Ignis and Gladio at his side. Regis cancels his meetings to join the wait, even though it is hours and the chairs are torture on his joints.

-Hours upon hours later, the doctors emerge and say that Bast is stable. For now. But they aren’t sure if he’ll make it through the night.

-Regis is so very sick of having to sit by a son’s bedside, helpless to do anything but wait as they drift in a coma between life and death.

-But Bast makes it through the night. He wakes up two days later, groggy and in pain, but alive. Noctis cries all over him without shame, and Regis is bright-eyed as he pets Bast’s hair.

-Therapy in Eos is a little different from Earth, potions and elixirs can speed up rehab by a good margin even if they cannot fix damage that old. Bast is still stuck in therapy for months on end, releasing how to walk and bend over and do other simple things. He’s benched for months more while he gets back into shape.

-Noctis and Bast have a screaming fight over his planned return to the Kingsglaive, and a tense stare down with Regis before his king-father sighs and concedes. Bast took his oaths and he has passed his fitness tests, Regis cannot remove him from the glaive without irreparably fracturing their relationship. It doesn’t mean he won’t worry himself sick.

-The glaives worry too, they are very attached to their Princeling. They vow to keep a closer eye on him, because CLEARLY he’s just as reckless with his life as Nyx is.

[irwinkitten]

hell over me | I

notes: first off, this photo credit goes to @ashtonsunshine carmo i’m still mad at you. now, this is supernatural!5sos. it was going to be a whole ass long fic but then i realised that actually, i wanted to make it a mini series so here it is. first part is demon!ashton warnings: none? mentions of death i think word count: 2.2k 

part ii, part iii, part iv, part v

---

The beautiful noise that seemed to break across the night sky, pulled Ashton from the brooding thoughts that seemed to circulate a little longer each time before distraction rolled in.

He glanced at the cave, his eyes taking in the seemingly innocent outcrop of rock, briefly wondering if the sirens would try their magic on him.

Sirens were notoriously narrow minded, much to his shock and his mentors amusement.

When he was human, Ashton had been raised with lore of sirens, that they were creatures who could reduce you to a mindless mess simply with the sounds of their songs.

When he sold his soul to Lucifer himself, sacrificing himself for the family he knew he would never see again, he learned about the sirens of the lore he grew up with weren’t too dissimilar from the actual siren legend.

Where as Lore dictated it was their voices that captured the attentions of sailors, causing them to shipwreck and be dragged to the depths, the legend was far more terrifying in  his eyes. Their magic was one based on the most instinctive desire, no matter what species. He’d heard rumours, from other demons who had tried to get a siren for his own selfish fulfilment, that their gifts lay in creating a dream that was so structured, telling the difference between real and fake was almost impossible.

The sirens despised demons entering their domain, that much Ashton knew. Yet he was still here.

He could get past the magic of their voices, the sound so enchanting that he very nearly slipped as he continued towards where he knew the sirens hid away.

But he continued forward.

Their songs grew in crescendo, his ears beginning to ring as if there were pressure being out upon him.

Each step became heavy, his feet dragging through the darkened sand. He could feel the press of magic against his chest before he fell to his knees, a gasp escaping him as the tide finally reached him, the water wrapping around his hands and knees.

He knew no more.

—

The pressure that kept him in the darkness finally lifted, his eyes immediately adjusting to the darkness.

He registered the water that seemed to be shallow enough, he knew he was sat down, hands bound together along with his ankles.

Immediately his hands tried to pull, a sharp shock travelling up his entire arms, a hiss escaping from his lips.

“No point.” A voice broke through the pain that seemed to intensify with his silence. He hissed in agony, the pain finally receding. Leaning his head back, he let out a tired sigh, eyes turning to where the voice originated from.

He was greeted with sharp yet young features that spoke of an aristocratic heritage. He could see that despite the damp hair, there were curls. But what got him was the dark eyes and almost bruise like colouring underneath them.

“Vampire?” Ashton questioned quietly and he received a snort of amusement.

“Looks like you morons have brains after all.” Ashton’s eyes held confusion as the curly haired vampire tilted his head to his side. Sat next to him was a soft baby faced male, mouth parted in what seems like feigned sleep. He turned his head and saw the familiar shock of blonde, causing his thoughts to freeze.

“Calum?” The now names demon jolted, eyes bleary and pitch black. It didn’t take him long to register that Ashton really was there.

“Fuck.” Finally escaped the blondes lips and the curly haired vampire laughed.

“Two demons, a werewolf and a vampire walk into the siren's den. Shall we figure out how this ends?” The sarcasm was dripping from the vampires tone and Ashton eyed the third male.

Now that he species had been identified, he could see the destroyed mark on his shoulder, the water lapping against the skin. Ashton realised the implication and suddenly he felt his heart go out to the wolf.

At least, what was left of his heart.

“Is there a reason why you’re here then, vampire?”

Ashton’s question was met with stony silence before-

“Luke.” He finally muttered, earning a curious gaze from the red haired demon. “My name is Luke.” The vampire reiterated.

“Ashton.” He returned evenly. Luke rolled his eyes.

“The council refused to believe that the sirens took my mate. They murdered the wolf’s chosen mate. Not too sure why you two are here, though.”

“Relics.” Both Ashton and Calum muttered at the same time, Calum’s sounded much more exhausted.

“What kind?”

“The kind that would protect the supernatural from this. The sirens overstepped.” Ashton muttered and Luke snorted.

“When do they not? Believe they’re fucking immune to the laws of the supernatural.”

“In parts they are. However, they took the King's consort.” Luke froze and eyed Ashton warily.

“Human or demon?”

“Hybrid. Legend would lead you to believe that they don’t exist. But they do, they’re just rare. This one had been raised on earth, the whole nature versus nurture idea. The day she met the King, he was changed.”

“They murdered her.” It wasn’t a question, but Ashton nodded.

“He felt the bond between them snap violently. That would only ever happen with murder. Archangel Gabriel had to stop him from wiping the planet just to destroy the sirens.” The words chilled Luke to the core as the water shifted and he could feel the pressure build once more.

Ashton couldn’t fight it as darkness overcame him once more and his thoughts vanished.

—

When Ashton woke up, his face was met with soft sheets, pillows that seemed to welcome yet suffocate him.

There was a flickering moment of confusion before it was pushed away, his body stretching out, hands coming into contact with another warm body.

“Five more minutes.” Came the muffled whine and without even thinking, Ashton laughed as he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to the bare shoulder that was available to him.

“The sun’s up. C’mon love or you’ll waste the day in bed.” He felt his heart stutter as they turned to face him, eyes morphed into a scowl.

“You’re too damn chirpy for this time of day, Irwin.” Came the following grumble and he laughed as his lips met theirs. “You love me for it, Charlie. Now get up, before our own monster comes looking for you.”

This earned another whine, Charlie stuffing their face back into the pillow as Ashton got out of bed.

His eyes wandered to the photos and he could feel something trying to break through on his mind, a mild pain crossing his forehead as he shook of the feeling. The pain disappeared as fast as it came, especially when a small missile launched at him.

“Daddy!” The cry of excitement made his heart swell as he scooped up the five year old who had his curls and eyes.

“Morning bub. You ready for some breakfast?”

“Pancakes!” Ashton laughed as he made his way downstairs, setting his small clone down on the breakfast bar before prepping the pancakes.

Once he had the batter made and the sides cleared, he moved his, now chatty, child to the countertop next to the stove to make it easier for the two of them.

Moments later whilst he was watching the pancake carefully, he felt a set of arms wind around his waist, lips meeting his bare shoulder.

“Look! Daddy’s makin’ us pancakes.” The excited cry was met with laughter and the joy that seemed to fill him was something that drove down to his very bones, the feeling of pure happiness seeping through him.

“That’s right baby! Reminds me of the day your daddy proposed to me, trying to cook pancakes and having us rushed to the hospital for smoke damage.” He rolled his eyes as the urgency hit him this time, a lot stronger.

And then he remembered as he pulled back from the food, eyes taking in the child that was a carbon copy, before looking to Charlie and his memories hit him like a freight train.

The proposal, it’d gone off without a hitch. They’d gone to get pancakes to celebrate. But there was a robbery gone wrong. Charlie had been hit with a stray bullet and was fighting for their life. And Ashton had begged to anyone listening to save his childhood sweetheart.

Lucifer had met him in the waiting room, offered the protection, told him the costs. At first it’d seemed like a good deal, but he never read the fineprint.

Charlie was saved, but instead of being able to keep his life, he was torn from it.

Lucifer made a lasting impression on Charlie and Ashton had watched as the look in their eyes went from one of horror to disgust to heartbroken. And then he was ripped from their arms and tossed into the darkest realm with no care.

His eyes refocused onto an unfamiliar face, one that was pleading with him, soft features that didn’t look right on Charlie’s body.

“Fight it, fight the magic.”

And then he remembered.

--

He jolted forward, water moving around as his eyes were wide, frantically searching the other four. They were still out.

Then he felt the magic, he felt it pressing on his soul, demanding his unconsciousness. And then there she was, the face that had been on a body it didn’t belong to.

She was bigger by sirens standards, a shawl covering her tummy, the curves capturing his attention for a second before his eyes searched her face. Relief flooded her.

“Good, my magic’s holding.”

“Why are you doing this, siren?” She tried not to flinch at the harsh tone he used, her eyes darting to behind her as she moved behind Ashton, his eyes finally making out the small path that seemed to circle the four of them.

Her fingers found his temple and he nearly snarled.

“Soothe, demon. Please. I’m trying to protect you from the siren’s magic. They’re determined to break you and the blonde one. They believe they’ve broken the wolf by killing his chosen mate.”

“What do you mean?”

“They talked about killing the known consort of Lucifer, the rightful Queen of Hell. They want to break each species, rule them all. I cannot stand by what they want or their methods. I want peace.”  Her voice was frantic, whispered and tired. He could feel her magic, the overlay protecting him from the oppressive magic. His body relaxed, winding down as if he’d been held taut like a marksman with his bow and arrow.

“Why?”

“I never wanted to be what I am. Not when I learned of the other legends, other lives. They mocked me, cut me off from both magic and people. I grew depressed and began to hate them but I could not leave, I was bound to them.”

“They broke you.”

“Yes.” Her whispered response came and she eyed the other three warily as she moved back in front of him, sitting on the pathway, her feet dipping into the water.

“Will you help us?”

“In return, I ask that you not kill me and let me escape with you.” He took her in properly then, the way she held herself. By sirens standards, she was only pretty. Nothing stunning or jaw dropping that had men dying just to get a night with one. She was much bigger, held herself hunched over. There was no confidence.

A truly broken siren.

He nodded.

“Tell the others, I will try to come and protect them but I cannot be seen around you too often. They will begin to wonder. Please, please do not break. There will be help.” And she was gone, his eyes still stuck on the spot where she had sat.

His chest ached for her, understanding flooding him as the water began to ripple, the wolf moving as he twisted away, a jolt hitting as he woke up with a whine.

Ashton knew then she’d been sincere.

He was stuck in the sirens pit, with only a broken siren as his lifeline whilst they desperately hoped that he’d survive this moment.

—

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---

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[tiaragqueen]

Bound By Pledge

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Kim Seokjin x Reader

✂ Word Count: 3,3k

✂ Trigger Warning: Hints of domestic abuse, obsessive and possessive behaviors, slight angst, yandere theme.

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don't believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

[Edited]

***

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"Look into my eyes, you know I care. My heart is set. You are the one for me, but I need your loyalty." - Faithful [Ibeyi]

          To fall in love is easy.

          To stay in love is a challenge.

          To let go is the hardest part.

          Jin was a perfect boyfriend anyone could ever ask for. A whole package, you'd say. He was funny, kind, handsome, a pro in the kitchen, romantic, mature, and supportive.

          Never once did he try to downgrade your worth, or raise a hand during your increasingly frequent arguments. He was very patient and understanding; listening to everything you wanted to say without any interruption or dismissing them as unimportant. He cheered you up with his corny jokes and bad puns and supported you in every endeavor.

          In short, he was the kind of man that accepted his partner as a whole and brought them up. And if it wasn't a dream guy, then you didn't know what to call him.

          You wondered if there was ever a time where his patience would reach its end because surely nobody could be that tolerant, right? Everyone had a breaking point, you were sure of it. And with how you usually react, he was bound to reach his very soon.

          Well, you were wrong, but you weren’t correct either.

          You were the polar opposite of him in terms of personalities. You possessed dry humor, lacked in the cooking department, sometimes childish, stubborn, moody, and plain.

          There was absolutely nothing attractive to you. At least that’s what you always told yourself to the point of believing it.

          And yet, with a stroke of luck - or was it misfortune? Then again, who cares? - he fell in love with your ordinariness. The freckles that littered your face, the extra fat that you so desperately hid from seeing eyes, the grin that you often concealed because you weren't confident with your teeth. He adored it all.

          Every time you stood in front of a mirror, examining every flaw in your body because there was always something that you disliked, Jin would suddenly hug you from behind and proclaim strings of compliments. The way he did them, with that proud yet love-struck smile, as if you were the prettiest being he ever laid his eyes on. Although it boosted your confidence for only a few percents before it would drop again, you still appreciated the efforts.

          Not to mention, you'd never dreamed that you would hear such praise from such a handsome man.

          Aside from that, he also liked to bring home some gifts that reminded him of you despite your begging to stop. The presents weren’t cheap either, and usually contained things that you could only wish in a passing or sent a longing look towards. Nobody knew how he bought them when some of the items were clearly limited editions, or how he managed to know by any means when you never told him before, but it was the least of your worries.

          Stupid you. Always ignoring the red flags.

          The only thing you feared was the fact that he could go into a premature bankruptcy with the number of gifts he'd presented to you. He always laughed – that windshield laughter that you used to love yet irked you at the same time because how could he laugh so carelessly when the threat was looming over his head?! – and assured you that he had enough money for his future.

          “Our future,” he'd corrected himself.

          You remembered the way his eyes lit up like a pair of dazzling jewels; the way his lips stretched wider than you've ever seen before as he began to imagine the actuality of those words.

          The words that held the utmost sincerity.

          The words that contained hope of a happy ending.

          The words that should have brought you joy and relief.

          And most of all, the words that established everything.

          You should've known that happy endings only exist in fairy tales because not all people would stay with the same person until their deaths. The reasons varied; from cheating, boredom, forced to be separated, etc. And in your case, it would be fall out of love.

          Sometimes you questioned yourself how many people have felt the same way as you. How high was the percentage or maybe you were the only who experienced this? But it was impossible, right? Humans are different yet similar to each other. Just like basic feelings such as sadness, happiness, and the like, this sentiment wasn't alien too. You just hadn't found the same victim yet.

          However, if there was one thing you didn't know about Jin, it was that he was a true believer of a happy ending.

          If love at first sight existed, then surely happy ending exist too, right? At least, he could try to create it. Little by little.

          With a bit of hard work, nothing can't be achieved.

          Jin was so confident that you would marry him and have a couple of children. That you would get old together and watch your grandchildren running around. That you both would dance around under the moonlight until the chilly breeze was the only thing that remained in your place. That you would die together and end up in the same graves adjacent to each other.

          You supposed that you should be flattered that he already thought forward, even though it sounded a bit of a stretch. Unlike some of your exes who were still wishy-washy with their lives. After all, anyone would kill to have such an attractive boyfriend like him, as seen from the countless glances you often caught whenever you two go out on a date.

          But you didn’t. Instead, you felt as if you were leading him on.

          It wasn’t like you didn’t love him – you did. The love had burned bright like a blaze before it eventually grew dimmer into charcoal and embers.

          And just like how the curtains were lifted, the closing was a gradual process too; the once long texts began to shorten and scarce, the calls went missing, the frequent kisses became dull pecks, and the hugs lacked their warmth. You couldn't even remember the last time you've shared an intimate moment together.

          You didn't know if he noticed these signs, and frankly it hurt to envision his reaction. Imagine spending years with a lover - laughing and crying and venting as if it was their last day on earth - only to part ways just because one of them has fallen out of love.

          But it wasn't your fault, right? Life just didn't want you to be together, is all. Sure, it would leave a scar in your already fragile heart, but you would manage. You would move on like a strong, independent woman you were.

          If only it was that easy.

          Despite your impatient nature, you couldn’t find it in yourself to break up with him. The opportunity was there - it was always there, tempting you to take it like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden - yet your fear of disappointing him hindered you to do so.

          But you needed to do it; for the sake of him and your conscience. You couldn't live with the regret of stringing him along when he could have someone better at his side. Someone that would give him the love and affection he deserved. Someone that he could marry and grow old later. Someone that would bear his children and, eventually, grandchildren.

          You might not love him anymore, but you weren’t cruel enough to keep him when you didn’t have the right to.

          “Jin,” you whispered once you broke the threshold of the living room. You had rushed home from work after hours of pondering, frustrations, and annoying colleagues that repeatedly asked your condition. You knew they were merely being nice, as you looked like you'd gone through a storm, but you weren't in the mood to speak. Unfortunately, some of them just couldn't take a fucking hint.

          Not to mention, there was always an obstacle during your supposedly short trip somehow.

          From bumping against a man and being scolded by him, the train took longer than usual, a crowd blocking your way to watch the police apprehended a thief, and nearly crashed into a car. It was as though the world had taken pity on Jin and conspired to prevent you from dropping the bombshell.

          Yet, you were determined. More than ever. You just hoped it would be a quick breakup.

          Of course, reality rarely aligns with expectations.

          Jin snapped his head up and beamed.

          “[Name]!” He dropped the magazine on his hands and bounced up to you like an excited puppy. You clenched your hands, forcing a smile. Why did he have to look so happy? It was as if seeing you bring all the joy into his gloomy world.

          You clearly didn’t deserve him, did you? Not when he greeted you so cheerfully, unaware of the bad news that you’d brought for him.

          Was this the right choice? Was it too late to back out now? Maybe this feeling was temporary. Maybe you still loved him.

          ... Did you?

          When he opened his arms to scoop you into a bear hug like he usually did, tears stung your eyes. He felt... warm. You exhaled shakily, cherishing the heat that radiated from his big body whilst controlling your breath. It was crushing to think that this would be the last embrace you received from him.

          The last time that he’d get to hold you like this.

          God, why did everything have to feel depressing once you finally reached the end? Why couldn’t you just break things off without these... these unnecessary affections? Why couldn’t you just say goodbye and be done with it?

          You reluctantly withdrew, discerning his frown from your peripheral vision.

          “Jin, I...” You gaped, struggling to get the words out without stuttering. Blinking the tears away, you cleared your clogged throat. “I don’t think we can continue with this anymore.”

          “What do you mean?” The response was spontaneous, and you noted – with a heavy chest – the slight panic on his voice. You silently ground your teeth, prepping yourself up, to tell the truth.

          “You know what I mean.”

          “Stop beating around the bush, jagi.”

          He was right; you should be straightforward if you wanted to end this quickly. What was wrong with you? Since when you've been this cowardly? You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut.

          “I’ve fallen out of love.”

          The world froze for a moment. Soft, almost inaudible, breaths cracked the thick silence. Jin opened before closing his mouth again like a fish out of the water. It continued for a minute until he whispered a question.

          A question that you wished he hadn't uttered. But who were you to control what he said?

          Oh, that's right. An ex.

          “You’re lying, right...?”

          You shook your head, a few tears flying around. If there was one thing that you hated, it’d be crying in front of him. You wanted him to know that you were strong, but you couldn’t. Your feelings have betrayed you long ago, and now you had to suffer the consequences.

          “N-no,” you croaked out. “I really, really have fallen out of love with you.”

          “But we can still be together, right?” Jin stepped forward and took your hands gently, eyes glistened with tears.

          God, you hated that look. The look that told you that he was hopeful. The look that told you that he wanted to change things to the way they used to. But bringing back a perished feeling was no easy task.

          Then again, what he wouldn't do for you?

          “I swear, I’ll do anything," he begged, already on the verge of breaking down. His knees trembled underneath his blue jeans, and Jin wasn't sure if he could stand any longer. "I’ll even kill for you.”

          You gasped, completely thrown off guard with his statement. How could he say that so readily? So... willing to go through that process for the sake of you. Didn't he know the consequences of killing?

          No, he knew. Of course, he knew. Jin wasn't stupid. Yet, it still didn't make it any easier for you to digest.

          Breaking up with him was one thing, but to see him behind the bars was another thing. You couldn't, and totally refused, to imagine that. What would you explain to his family should something like that ever happened? It would ruin your relationship with them and your image as well.

          “God, no! You can’t. It’s illegal, Jin! You can go to prison!”

          “Who cares?!” he exclaimed. This was the first time he ever came close to yelling, and the context wasn't something you had initially planned.

          “No, Jin. You can’t just-” you flailed your hands around, unable to put the frustration into words. “You know what? I think it’s best if I go now. You obviously need to calm down and stop talking about killing because it's starting to freak me out.”

          You moved to leave, but Jin was quick to seize your wrist.

          “Don't go, please.” he pleaded, voice cracking along with your heart. “I swear, I’ll stop talking about killing if you just... stay. With me. I need you so much. I can't live without you.”

          It was poetic and had it occur some other time, you'd roll your eyes for its cheesiness.

          But now?

          Now, you just wanted to curl up and cried until there were no more tears left.

          “We’re over now, Jin. I can’t just hang around like we used to. It’ll be awkward for the both of us, knowing that we’re no longer a couple. And yes, you absolutely can live without me. I'm not your lifeline, Jin. You're an adult, so start acting like one.”

          It was harsh, and you admitted it wasn't really necessary. But you needed an outlet to release all this stress that built up inside of you because you didn't want to end up yelling at him. You already broke up with him, his girlfriend of five years. He didn't need another scar to decorate his delicate heart.

          You snatched your hand from his hold and opened the front door. “Thank you for all the memories we’ve shared together. I hope you find a better girlfriend than me.”

          “... What if I say that I only want you?”

          Jin was bowing his head when he whispered that, and you - stupid you - chose to stop and strain your ears to hear him a little clearer. “What...?”

          Bad mistake.

          Without further ado, a metal abruptly struck the back of your head. You collapsed on to the floor, discerning Jin's tall stature looming over you through the blurred gaze. It was a few moments of consciousness that you appreciated because you could see his expression before you fully passed out.

          He bore no emotions whatsoever, not even when he approached your limp body and started dragging you to God knows where.

          You fluttered your eyes open, staring at the familiar plain ceiling. How could you not recognize it right away, when you've stayed in this room for years? It was arguably one of the most memorable places in Jin's apartment aside from the kitchen.

          With a tired yet pained groan, you slowly sat up and froze when you heard something tinkling. Peering down, you noticed a pair of chains bounded your legs around the feet of the bed.

          “Those are the only thing I got from him.” A manly voice alerted you with another presence in the room. Your captor.

          You never thought you'd live up to the day where you would call him that.

          “Jin, you bastard!” you growled, forgetting all about his sensitivity because who the fuck cares? Not you anymore, definitely. “Let me go!”

          “Hoseok told me that if your partner refuses to be with you, then the only way is to tie them up.” Jin rambled, straight up ignoring your demand.

          Not that you expected him to. No kidnappers would release their victims without any reward or ulterior motives. Yet, it was nice to hope.

          “He did that too, you know. With his girlfriend and her older brother. Apparently, he was planning to get her out of the house because he felt that Hoseok was ‘too possessive for her own good’.”

          Jin huffed out an incredulous chuckle, combing back the brown bangs with his hand. “I mean, how silly is that? She’s his girlfriend, and yet that jerk had the audacity to separate them. He’s really blind to true love, don’t you think?”

          Silly for him, creepy for you. However, stubborn people rarely change their minds. This trait - which had eventually become his downfall - was what connected you two in the first place.

          “I don’t give a shit about your crazy friend’s story, Jin. Now let me go!”

          Sighing, he got up from the creaky chair that was a bit too small for his broad physique and approached you. You flinched when you saw his hand reach out to stroke your face.

          You might have held that hand before, but you'd be damned if you let it touch even a strand of your hair. Everything about him was pure toxic now.

          “Jagi, don’t be like that. I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I? Why won’t you let me touch you?”

          “Because we fucking broke up, Jin! Get it through that thick skull of yours that we’re over. Over!”

          “Just because we're over, doesn't mean I can't touch you." he retorted, tugging a lock of your messy hair. You cried out in pain as you clawed at his hand to ease the grip. "And you’re always like this. Swearing. I don’t like it.”

          “I don’t fucking care!” You gritted your teeth, trying to lessen the pain somehow. Although your attempt was futile, just as you predicted. You always knew that Jin had a bigger advantage than you, and yet you never expected him to resort to violence. Did the breakup mess him up that badly?

          “Seems that I need to give you a lesson, then.”

          Jin opened the drawer in one of the nightstands and pulled out a dark whip. Your eyes immediately widened as you backed away, already dreading the 'lesson' despite not having experienced it yet. Alas, the chains prevented you from avoiding the inevitable.

          Well, shit.

          “You know, jagi,” he said softly and had it occur on other times, you would’ve mistaken him for comforting you. You couldn't believe this was the same voice that you used to love to listen, especially in the early mornings. “I admit, I wasn’t expecting to use this so soon. I didn’t want to accept this at first, but Hoseok insisted. Saying that you’d surely struggle and I have to be able to discipline you like a good boyfriend I am. So, I hope you forgive me for my cruel method. I hate to do this, but you need to learn your lesson.”

          You shook your head frantically when he advanced towards you, caressing the whip. “No, no, no. Please don’t do this, Jin. You’re better than this, I swear.”

          “I know.”

          “Just let me go and I promise you that I won’t tell anyone. Just- please...”

          Lie.

          Of course, you'd tell the police. There was no way you'd let this crazy man roam free and take you back to this familiar prison. But telling the truth seemed less than ideal, especially in this kind of predicament. When Jin set his eyes for something, he wouldn't stop going no matter what hardships that were thrown. You hated and admired this side of him.

          “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, jagi.” Jin unceremoniously cracked the whip against your leg, relishing in the agonized cry from your trembling lips. The skin reddened, yet he was far more distracted with the tears that trickled down your face. “I don’t want you to leave. You’re stuck here, with me, just like we always do. Just like what we've promised beforehand.”

          He lifted your chin and slowly licked the tears. They tasted salty, but everything from you was sweet anyway.

          Even your pain.

          “I love you, [Name].”

[ineffable-dads]

Life’s Ineffable Like That (Repost)

Ineffable Husbands, Post-Not-Apocalypse,  Light-hearted shenanigans, Fluff

Summary: Crowley wakes up to find a human child left on his doorstep.  He’s not sure where it came from, or who it belongs to, but he’s got a vague idea what to do with it.  The trouble is getting Aziraphale to agree.

A/N: Alright, one more time! Here’s hoping the tags actually work!  I originally posted this on my primary blog shenanigans-and-imagines, but decided to put it here for now, for hopefully obvious reasons. 

This is going to just be a series of one-shots set it this universe.  I don’t really have things in chronological order.  If anybody would like to be tagged for this series or has any prompts, please let me know.   And finally PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS!!!

Word Count: 2.8K

          It took a lot to surprise Crowley.  

          Having been on the Earth since the very beginning and being older still, it would be an understatement to say he’d been ‘round the block a few times.  

          A more accurate description would be he’d been ‘round the area on which the block would eventually be built a few thousand times, eventually watched the construction of the block with a cup of tea, and then went around the newly constructed block a few hundred thousand times more; occasional stops for repairs notwithstanding.  So, when one says that Crowley was taken by surprise when he opened his door to find a baby, in a basket, with a note attached, it is no small thing.

          His first sinking feeling was it was another Anti-Christ after the last one had been a bust.  He couldn’t imagine his superiors below would ever trust him with such a task again; part of the ineffable plan be damned. However, one look at the child told him otherwise.

          It was human; from its tiny human dark-skinned toes to its tiny human wisps of black hair. One hundred percent, certified, distant relation to Adam and Eve, human. The next question was, who on Earth would place a human child in the care of a soldier of Hell?  

          He looked out into the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of who ever had dropped the child on his door step.  Nothing came of it, of course, but Crowley felt he had to at least put in the effort. He looked down again.  

          The child was now staring up at him.  Its large brown eyes didn’t blink once as they took turns examining each other.

          “Right,” Crowley said.  “You aren’t going to cause trouble if I check something, are you?”

          The baby blinked, and Crowley took it as a yes.

          Slowly, the demon crouched down and took the note off the basket. Unfortunately, it was indeed, addressed to one A. J. Crowley.  

          He grimaced and opened the letter, which read as follows;

            Crowley,

           I’m not sure if you remember me, but I remember you. The night we had together is one I could never forget, for, as I hope is apparent to you now, obvious reasons.  I couldn’t bear to give her away.  You hear such awful things about foster care and orphans in books and the like. I just knew she’d be safe with you.

          Janet

          Crowley stared at the letter for a good long while.  She had been right; he couldn’t remember her.

          But, the letter had managed to answer three things.  One, the baby was female.  Two, the mother clearly didn’t know who Crowley really was.  And three, this clearly was a big mix-up, but not by the postman.  It also answered a bonus forth question; the child was not his problem.  

          Without another thought on the matter, Crowley closed the door with a mild thud.  

          The child, however, would not allow Crowley to dismiss her without another thought on the matter.

          Muffled wails came from the other side of the door. Crowley turned towards it, his lip tightening.

          “Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play is it?  Go ahead! I watched after the wrong Anti-Christ for eleven years, I can take it.”

          The cries continued all the same as Crowley went about his morning routine. Or at least, as he tried to go about his morning routine.

          He had hoped somebody else might hear the baby crying and take care of it themselves. Or maybe the baby would just stop when it realized it wasn’t going to get its way. He had no such luck on either front.

          For one, he essentially lived alone on the top floor the apartment complex; so, the chances of a good Samaritan stopping in were slim to none.  And for second, a new born human is as stubborn as a full-grown mule.  

          The baby cried as he prepped his coffee with a pressed lip.  It continued on through his bedroom walls as he got dressed with gritted teeth.  And finally got to him when he was about to water his plants.

          “Fine!” he snapped, storming back towards the door.  “Fine! Fine! Fine!”

          He didn’t stop saying “fine” until the basket was placed on the dining room table just off the kitchen.  

          The child was still crying, but it had changed from the attention seeking wails to a more whimpering blubber.  

          Crowley let out an annoyed sigh, making a silent prayer to either side that nobody notice what he was about to do. With a snap of his fingers a bottle of warm milk appeared in his hand.    

          “Happy now?” he grumbled, as he held the bottle for the girl to drink.

          The baby did so, staring up at him with wide eyes.  She did not appear unhappy.  The bottle had effectively stopped her cries.  But, Crowley vaguely felt like she was threatening to start again should he try anything. He might have been impressed of her stubbornness if it wasn’t directed at him.

          The moment’s quiet finally gave him time to think.  And that time to think helped him to remember just how this mix up might have started.

          He had been hearing more and more things on the news about sex, abortions, and if the government should or should not have a say in it.  This was not a new topic of conversation. Sex had always been a hot button issue to humans; seven deadly sins and all that.  But, what humans failed to realize was the sin wasn’t the lust itself, rather all the things humans were willing to do to satisfy it; anger, betrayal, jealousy, the lot.  It came to the point where Crowley just had to know what all the fuss was about.  He was a demon after all, it was his job to allow himself the occasional indulgence in sin.

          So, one night, he went out, got drunk and indulged.  One man, one woman, just to give each a fair shot.  

          It was good.  He wouldn’t say he’d go out of his way to do it again. Or even if he could justify why humans were willing to kill each other over it; however, he could see why it might be done recreationally.

          Timeline wise, it more or less coincided with the appearance of a one-month old baby on his doorstep. However, there was no conceivable way he was actually the father.  Humans and demons couldn’t make children.  It would be like an ape trying to have a baby with a snake, rather literally in this case. Which meant, she had a human father somewhere out there, but who or where he was was a question Crowley couldn’t answer.

          Giving her back to her mother was out.  She had cast her aside.  The child had no home to be returned to. There was only one thing Crowley could do in this situation.  He pulled the bottle away and picked up the phone.

          “Sorry, we’re quite closed,” Aziraphale answered.

          “It’s me,” Crowley said quickly.  “I need you to come over.”

          “Something’s happened?” the angel asked, immediately recognizing his friend’s tone.

          “Yeah, you could say that.”

          Then, as if waiting for her cue, the baby began to cry once more.

          “Is that a baby?” Aziraphale asked, alarmed. “Another Anti-Christ?!”

          “No,” Crowley assured.  “No, no Anti-Christ.  Look, difficult to explain on the phone, just come over here.”

          “I’m on my way.”

          They both clicked off.  

          The baby cried, and Crowley was just about finished.

           “Right,” he snapped, walking back towards her. With dramatic flair, he tore off his sunglasses, letting the child get full view of his slitted, yellow eyes.

          “You are going to stop crying,” he growled in the same tone he used on his plants when one of them developed a spot. “You are going to sit there and behave until the angel figures out what do to with you. Do you understand?”

          The baby blinked, and Crowley prepared himself for the cry of fear.

          But, it never came. Instead, she out stretched her arms, brushing his nose with her tiny fingers.

          “What are you doing?” he asked, suspiciously.

          She didn’t answer.  She just continued to swing her little arms around, trying to get a grip on his chin and face, and anywhere else she could manage to reach.

          Crowley pulled back a hair but allowed his hand to come within her range flailing limbs.

          She took hold of one of his fingers and let out a gurgle of satisfaction.

          The demon stared down, not quite sure what to make of it. The sensation of having his hand look so monstrously large when compared to hers, made his stomach twist in a foreign, but not entirely unpleasant way.

          She pulled his finger closer to her with no indication she was going to let go any time soon.

          “You’ve got so sense of self-preservation, do you,” he asked, dismissively.

          She batted his hand in response.

          Before he even fully realized he was doing it, he picked her up, careful to let her chin rest against his shoulder as he held her.  She started to drool on his jacket, but he found himself not really caring.  He could always miracle it away later.

          “You’re a real piece of work, you know that,” he said. “Whoever ends up looking after you is going to have their work cut out for them.”

          He walked through the flat towards the living room, not waiting for a response.

          “Aziraphale will probably say to give you away.  Make sure you’re picked up by some loving perfectly normal human family.  Boring answer, really.  But that would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

          He sat down on the couch, adjusting so he was leaning back as the baby lay on his chest.

          “God forbid an angel not to the right thing,” he continued, ironically. “But, I’m not an angel, am I? I’m not supposed to do the right thing.”

          He let the thought stew for a moment before continuing.

          “My lot would probably just leave you behind a dumpster. Or find some place out of a Charles Dicken’s novel to drop you.  Basic set up for a miserable life; no real thought put into it. No imagination.”

          The child let out a little yawn, gripping vaguely at the fabric of Crowley’s shirt.

          He caught himself smiling at the action.  “Serves you right, a full hour of wailing can really take it out of you.”

          She didn’t make any more sounds one way or the other.  Her eyes simply fell closed.

          Crowley kept a hand on her to keep her from sliding off his chest before leaning fully back to stare at the ceiling. An idea was forming in his mind; one he was growing more and more keen to act on.  He would just need to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.  

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

         When the angel arrived at the flat, Crowley was still on the couch, now with the baby safely cradled in his arms.

         “Oh, thank God,” the angel said, breathing an audible sigh of relief. “It’s human.”

         “I said as much, didn’t I,” Crowley defended.  

         “You said it wasn’t another Anti-Christ,” the angel replied.  “That leaves plenty of other options open.”

         Crowley didn’t really have a counter argument and opted for a general nod of the head from side to side.

         “Well, either way, you’re here now.  Take her for a moment, will you?”

         He didn’t wait for Aziraphale to respond before practically shoving the girl into the angel’s arms.  

         Aziraphale took her, of course, cradling her head with the same care he might with his beloved books.

          “Hello there,” he cooed only a little awkwardly.

         The child opened its eyes with the same curiosity it did when examining Crowley. Perhaps it was his angelic nature, or maybe she was still tired from a good cry, but she cooed back, her hands grabbing vaguely in his direction.

         Aziraphale smiled at the action, and gladly gave her one of his fingers to play with before addressing the demon in the room.

         “Where did she come from?

         “Now angel, it’s been six thousand years. You really need me to explain the bird and the bees?”

         “You know what I mean,” Aziraphale said, trying to place more indignity than embarrassment in his tone.

         Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses, handed Aziraphale the note, and leaned against the island countertop as the angel read.

         Aziraphale finished the note, his brows furrowing in confusion. “This is clearly some sort of mistake.”

         “That’s what I said,” Crowley said, taking back the note.

         “You can’t possibly be the father.”

         “Obviously.”

         “So why does she think you are?”

         Crowley crossed his arms, doing his best to say the words as casually as possible. “Probably because I had sex with her.”

         Aziraphale blinked.  “You what?”

         “I. Had. Sex. With. Her.” The demon repeated, slowly.

         Aziraphale blinked again.  There wasn’t any judgement on his part that Crowley could detect, just a general confusion as if he had just confessed, he liked peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches.

         “But, why?” the angel finally asked.

         “Curiosity,” Crowley answered, this time with genuine casualness.

         “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

         “There was nothing to tell. It was a one-off thing.  Well, two off,” he said, with a shrug. “Different person, nice man.”

         Aziraphale stared at him for a long while before letting out a tired sigh.

         “I will never fully understand you Crowley.”

         “Probably not,” he admitted. “But, I doubt we’d be friends if you did.”

         The angel didn’t argue, looking back down at the human baby in his arms.

         “I suppose it doesn’t matter where she came from,” he said.  “The simple fact is she’s here, and she needs a home.”

         The child’s eyes were beginning the close again as Aziraphale swayed gently back and forth, her grip still tight around his finger.

         “I suppose we’ll have to find some adoption agency,” Aziraphale said, his voice sounding almost melancholy at the prospect.  “There are plenty here doing good work.”

         “Yeah, about that,” Crowley said, taking a stride towards him.  “I was thinking, we could try something else.”

         “Such as?”

         “Well, I don’t know about you, but I was thinking about keeping her.”

         “What?!”

         “Shh! Not so loud. She’s going to sleep.”

         “You can’t keep her, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. His voice, though a whisper, lost none of its edge.  “She’s a human being, not a plant you can terrorize.”  

         “So, she’s a human being, I’ve taken care of a human being before.”

         “As a nanny, for a handful of years, and that was for work.”

         Crowley could see the frustration rising in Aziraphale’s temples as the angel took a breath.

         “This isn’t a one-off thing,” he continued. “This is a life.  A human life.  She should be with other humans.”

         “And humans can do better than us, can they?”

         “They were able to handle the Anti-Christ much better than us, if I recall.”

         Crowley floundered for a moment before recovering. “Yeah, well, we helped.”

         “By being incompetent.”

         The demon let out a huff of frustration. “Fine, you don’t want in. You don’t want in. But then what happens to her after this is on you.”

         “Excuse me?”

         Crowley’s eyes narrowed making a point to circle the angel, as he put special care into his next few sentences. 

         “Let’s say you take her to an adoption agency.  Maybe even go so far as to miracle her a nice normal family. Then what? Forget? Let the world do with her as it likes? This cold, careless world that so often let’s bad things happen to good people. If a child were left on your doorstep, would you really just let her go?”

         Aziraphale opened his mouth to answer but stopped as the child made another small cooing sound. He looked down again, his eyes softening at the odd little bundle even as conflict still raged back and forth.

         “We can’t,” he said, with no real conviction.

         “Maybe you can’t.  I’m keeping her whether you say yes or no.” He then took another step forward and pulled the child out of the angel’s arms.

         Aziraphale floundered, completely shocked by his friend’s actions. “But—"

         “Let’s see,” Crowley said, speculatively.  “Girls names. Girls names.  Let’s go with –”

         “No!” Aziraphale interrupted.  “No! You can’t just name her.  Once you name her, we’re sunk.”

         “We? You just said yourself angel, you can’t.”

         “Well, you’re forcing my hand,” he countered.  “I can’t very well stand by and watch you create your own personal foot soldier of hell now can I?”

         Crowley grinned, knowing full well the excuse was just that, an excuse. “Good, it’s settled, we’ll raise Izzie together.”

         “Izzie?” Aziraphale said, doubtfully.

         “Short for Isabelle.”

         The angel raised an eyebrow.

         “What?” Crowley asked.  “You think I’m going to name my kid after some demon or something cruel like Bobbi Jean?” He shook his head. “No.  I think Izzie is just wrong enough.  Izzies are always crazy.”

         Izzie raised no objections to this as she gurgled peacefully.

         Aziraphale assessed the reaction carefully, before taking a small step closer.

         Izzie spotted him and her hands reached out for the angel’s finger once more. He let her take without hesitation.

         “Well for my money, I think Belle suits her much better,” Aziraphale said.

         “Whatever you say angel.”

[mcgrathandwives]

Someone To Lean On.

Request: 🏳️‍🌈HAPPY MONTH!🏳️‍🌈 I was wondering if it's possible for you to write a coming out piece? With the Avengers? Perhaps your family found out and it wasn't exactly the best so you had Nat or Wanda take you back to the compound and you tell everyone what happend? The Avengers being like your second family and they shower you in support? Include Carol, Nebula and Gamora too please?

A/n: reader's in their 20s. They don't live with their parents but visit every weekend or every month when they have time off. Low-key based on my coming out, but obviously it's changed up a little for the benefit of the fact my coming out was angsty af.

I DONT OWN MARVEL OR ANY OF THEIR CHARACTERS.

Word count: 3,399

Pairing: The Avengers x Reader.

--

The sun setting crept its way through the window, Natasha leaned against your doorframe as you finished packing your bag. "You ready kid?" She offered to drop you off before making her way out to meet Maria for drinks. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you squeezed by the assassin. "Y'know I'm far from a kid, Romanoff!"

Quickly you bid the others goodbye, Carol pulled you into a quick hug, whispering "Good luck." She knew how tough your family can be after a mission. Luckily you weren't too banged up this week, but that didn't mean there wasn't fresh wounds.

The drive to your childhood home was mostly quiet, Natasha did sing along to a few songs on the radio just to cheer you up a little. She's always without a doubt brought a smile to your face, at first it started as a crush- only on your part of course, she is the Black Widow after all.

But still, she took you under her wing, she became your mentor and then watched you get flustered around Wanda. Nat's been your number one since you joined the team, she really treats you like family.

Pulling up outside the house, she offers you a small smile, reaching over to hug you. "If you need anything I'm just a call away, kid."

"Thanks Nat. Don't flirt with Hill too much now." You left the car giggling at her face. It's really not a secret to you that Natasha has a thing for Maria so to make up for her teasing you about Wanda you gotta give her a little taste of her own medicine.

You did learn from the best, after all.

---

Laughter echoed around the house the second you opened the door, the smile on your face never leaving. You made your way to greet everyone and let your mom scan over your injuries, it killed you know how upset they made her but she was proud of you for doing your job, even if she didn't agree with it. You retired to your bedroom an hour or so after getting home.

The next day you woke up to a few texts from Wanda, she was wondering if you'd be interested in attending the pride parade with her and the other Avengers. Naturally you said yes, with the parade being on Monday you didn't have to cancel any family plans and it would be the first time you attended the parade since coming out so it brought a new excitement to the event.

Later in the day you helped your mom with some grocery shopping and stopped for a few photos with different people and the drive back was full of laughter as you both sang along to whatever playlist your siblings made.

You helped your dad prep for dinner as your siblings did some chores around the house. "Any plans this week Y/n?"

You were hesitant to mention going to pride with the others, you weren't exactly out and proud around your family. That's not to say all of your family didn't know, after all, the Avengers knew and they've never been more supportive, Tony and Steve have spent many an hour trying to help you work out how to 'come out' to your family.

Wanda and Carol were there for every failed attempt. Bucky, Sam and Clint were more than happy to lend you a shoulder to cry on every time you freaked out about coming out.

Nebula and Gamora had also spent a good bit of time with you, Nebula understood where you were coming from the most, she knew disappointment better than anyone. Gamora however didn't understand why you didn't just tell them like you did with her.

Thor, however, he was always willing to pretend to be your boyfriend for as long as you needed, he joked about it a lot. He was there on one occasion listening to way your dad spoke about the LGBT+ community. He understood your apprehension and did try his hardest to help you, that even mean introducing you to Brunnhilde. She didn't quite grasp the difficulty of it since she wasn't fully up-to-date on Earth's prejudices. Nevertheless, she offered her best advice as well as her time- she's one of the few people you knew that was actually out and didn't care what anyone had to say.

Natasha though?

She's been there for every second of it, from being the first person you came out to, holding your hand through every other moment of coming out to the team. She's been there for every heartbreak and she's held your hand through it all, she knew how nervous you were about being judged based on your sexuality. She knew all the stories from your school days to actually hearing first hand your family's opinion on some members of the LGBT+ community.

The team is incredibly supportive and proud of you and they made sure you knew it.

Being partly out and in the closet at the same time brings enough challenges, you're a big believer in only coming out when you, and you alone, decide when it's time.

"Em, not much actually. We have a few missions here and there and the pride parade."

Your dad stopped for a second before shaking his head, "Well, we'll have to discuss that after dinner. I can't have you getting hurt out there." His comment wasn't exactly harsh nor was it comforting, you weren't sure if he was talking about your missions or the parade but you brushed it to the side, focusing on peeling the veggies.

---

After dinner you offered to do the washing up, seeing it as an opportunity to build yourself up. To give you that final push, to come out to your parents. Half way through your inner pep talk your dad walked in, your mom following. "So pride huh?" The conversation barely started and already it struck a hint of anxiety through you.

"Yup!" You could feel the confidence drain from you quickly, "You and the Avengers?"

"Uh huh. It was Tony's idea that we be there." Your stomach was knotted with every word, heat rushing all over you. "For protection?" Your mom was quick to jump in, "Y'know for the gays? Instead of cops?"

Your arm reached behind your head, scratching at your neck, "Well partly but mostly to just celebrate. Since some of us-" Before you could finish, your dad cut you off.

"What do you have to celebrate? I don't understand why you'd be there if it's not for protection? It's not like you're going to show support for any of your friends, they clearly aren't going for your support either. I just don't understand why you'd be there."

All you could hear was your heartbeat increasing, to the point you were convinced that they could hear it too before you could process what your dad was saying you just blurted it out.

"I'M GAY!"

At that moment you watched your dad lose all self-control he had, his nostrils flared as his face went red. "How could you even know that?", "You haven't even lived your life enough to know that!", "Is it a phase? Is one your little Avenger buddies gay too?", "You don't have enough life experience to even consider being gay!" He was firing questions and statements left and right, each one getting louder.

You weren't sure if you were hurt or angry but either way, tears threatened to fall. Your back straightened, you were in flight or fight mode now and you've never backed down from a fight. "How can you even ask me that? How can you even say that!"

Your mom inched herself closer to you. "It's not a fucking phase! I've known for years! And yeah actually I do have 'enough' life experience to know my own fucking self!" By now you’d both gotten in each other's faces, flashbacks of past arguments swirled through your head as tears brimmed your eyes, this was it. "You're not gay. You can't be."

Tears started to fall freely, that it seemed to only anger your dad more, "Why are you crying? What is this not what you wanted? Not what you expected? Did you think we weren't going to have an adult conversation about this? You're too fucking young to know Y/n!" The tears fell faster now as your chest started to burn.

‘How could he be like this?’

‘What happened to I'll always support you without judgment?'

"Welcome to the real world! Not everyone is just going to take what you have to say and not question it! I'm in my given right to ask this! Stop! Fucking! Crying!"

Anger bubbled its way through you, "FUCK YOU!" Your mom froze, she'd be in many arguments with you and your dad before but never once had you really spoke to him like this, no bratty attitude, not snide comments just a firm tone. "I WAS FUCKING SCARED TO COME OUT! BECAUSE I KNEW. I KNEW YOU'D REACT LIKE THIS!" Admittedly his scoff hurt more than his words. "You and your generation, you all think you're entitled to have the flags out, and everyone claps for every little achievement you've made! I knew! I already knew! But here you have to announce it like it's news! Grow the fuck up!" Your mom managed to make her way between the pair of you, creating enough distance, she knew neither of you would try anything now. She had created a gap for you to get out of the room.

You couldn't take anymore, the shouting mixed with your panic attack burned your throat. Your chest felt like it was on fire and no matter how hard you wiped your eyes the tears wouldn't stop. Making a break for your room, you grabbed your phone, dialing the first number you could.

----

"Hello? Y/n?" Wanda's voice was laced with worry, panic washed over the other Avenger as you choked on a sob. "I-I need you to come, get me." She knew you could hear the muffled movements just like she could hear your dad shouting, Wanda stayed on the call with you, hearing everything your dad was saying, she refused to hang up when your mom came in and everything had gone quiet.

Whilst listening to your conversation, she ran to Natasha's room, banging on the door. The redhead answered with messy hair and a glare that could kill. "This better be an emergency Wanda."

"It's, Y/n, they need us. Now." The minute Natasha heard your name she was grabbing sweatpants and her keys, "C’mon then!"

By the time they got to your house, they could hear more shouting, "IF YOU WALK OUT THAT DOOR YOU'RE DONE!" The wooden door swung open, revealing you in a fit of tears, barely able to walk in a straight line due to your blurry vision. Wanda rushed to your side, whilst Natasha made her way in front of your dad. "Move an inch and see what happens!" Her tone, cold, she left once Wanda had you in the car.

The ride back was silent, apart from your sniffles and worried glances they'd thrown in your direction. You finally passed out in the back once you passed the old tower. When you arrived back at the compound, Wanda carried your bag, as Natasha pulled you into her arms, carrying you to her room.

After assuring Wanda that you'd be okay with her, Nat finally crawled in beside you. "I know you're awake Y/n." Rolling yourself into her, you let the sobs free. May spent the next two hours running her fingers through your hair, whispering little nothings to calm you down.

"I- I came out and they- he didn't like it." The assassins arms tightened around you. "We don't have to talk about it until tomorrow okay? Right now let's just try getting some sleep."

---

The next morning Natasha woke up with a numb arm, your body clung to her like your life depended on it. It killed her seeing you like this, tear tracks stained your face, your hair in a million knots, you never passed out until 3ish and Nat, well she was up and down for the next hour with you. Slowly she untangled you from her. Pulling the larger blanket over you, she decided to make you something for breakfast and call the others.

Shortly after Nat left, you woke up. Hoping last night was one horrible dream, the lack of photos on the wall however, only confirmed that you were definitely not at your parents. Your head was pounding, violently, the events still playing in your head. Tears blurred your vision again, and you tightly grabbed the blanket that was given. It smelled faintly like Natasha, calming you down a bit. You just needed a minute to collect yourself before explaining the colossal fuck up of events that took place last night.

Admittedly you weren't sure what you were more scared of, the reactions of the others to finding out what happened or the fact that your dad had finally managed to cut you deeper than any blade ever could, whilst your mom just stood there.

That sinking feeling you've felt all your life had grown, leaving you feeling heavier than ever.

---

As Y/n was still trying to build up the confidence to leave Natasha's room, the Avengers had all huddled around the island in the kitchen. All of them worried for you, "They finally did it and it went worse than they thought it would." Bucky and Peter were the first on their feet, making their way to the door. They were greeted by Nebula and Gamora, both of them wearing a threatening glare, with a flick of her finger Nebula had both of them turn back towards the group.

"So what do we do?" Steve wasn't all too familiar with this situation, but he cared for you deeply, he saw you as family and he only wanted to help. Everyone broke into conversation about a cheer up plan.

----

After an hour everyone had agreed the best way to help you was for you to tell them what you needed. Instead of them firing in all of these different ideas, it was a madhouse at the best of times but with grown adults shouting about movie days or theme parks, then of course Peter piping in with ice cream and Groot contributed beautifully by leaving because it was too loud for him- it took Natasha being picked up by Carol for everyone to shut up. So they all found themselves going about their own business waiting for you to come to them.

Another hour passed before you emerged from Natasha's room, wearing sweats and a borrowed sweater from Tony, your hair was still damp from the shower and everyone could see how exhausted you were but you knew if you didn't come out then they'd crowd you in the bedroom. You didn't need any more anxiety so you braved it.

Before you could greet anyone Gamora made her way over to you, pulling you into a hug. Nebula copied her sister's actions and soon so did everyone else, Brunnhilde snuck her way in closer to as Wanda's arms tightened around your waist. Tears fell freely from you, the group hug was admittedly a little claustrophobic but definitely needed.

Once everyone had untangled themselves from you, you found yourself being pulled into the strong arms of Thor. Each of the team, spent the next 10 minutes, pulling you into individual hugs, trying to remind you that they've got you- without overwhelming you with the same sentence. Peter held you a little longer than the others, once he pulled back he flashed you an awkward smile, the both of you were the youngest of the team and had a close sibling-like relationship. He held your wrists before saying, "Consider it from Aunt May too." He let out a small "Oof" when you pulled him back into you.

Carol dragged you over to the couch before throwing herself down beside Wanda, she pulled you down between them, cuddling into you. The room fell into a comfortable silence, the others retired to their rooms after a few movies and once you reassured them you'd be okay, you stayed between the heroes, barely paying attention to the movie.

Your thoughts were consumed with every interaction you've had in the last 24 hours. From the argument, you had with your parents to the comforting embrace of Carol Danvers. In the moment you realized that it didn't matter what you'd have to deal with in your life as long as you had the Avengers you'd be okay.

You'd have someone to lean on.

Someone to be there to pick you up when you're down.

You'd have someone in your corner. In this case, it turned out you had the world's and well technically the universe's strongest beings in your corner.

Wanda listened to your thoughts with a small smile on her face, she wasn't trying to invade your personal space- she was worried and rightfully so. She adored you, so much so, that she'd do anything to help you. She had a bit of a crush of course she did. How could she not? But you didn't need someone like that in your life right now. You need support, unconditional love and she was more than ready to throw every ounce of it she had at you.

---

Monday rolled around quicker than you thought, everyone was getting ready for the parade when you walked out sporting the rainbow design on your suit. Natasha offered to paint one on your face but you declined since your suit was basically a walking flag. Carol, Thor, Steve, and Bucky were all sporting their flags as their suits, Brunnhilde swapper her blue cape for her new cape designed to look like the Bi flag- Bruce finished it this morning, whilst everyone else wrapped flags over their shoulders or painted their faces. Hill walked in making a direct B-line to you, pulling you into her, it'd been a while since you'd seen each other. She apologized for not being here with you sooner and promised a proper catch up after the parade.

Everyone was ready to leave, you were just waiting on Tony, Pepper, and Wanda. Wanda walked out smiling sporting a rainbow jacket, instead of her red leather one, Tony and Pepper wore their suits which were covered in stickers.

The parade went spectacularly and the after party at the compound- courtesy of the Avengers LGBTQ+ charity, Pepper and Maria set up: 'to fund shelters, safe houses and more for all LGBTQ+ beings across the globe', was in full swing. Everyone was laughing, joking and enjoying themselves. There was all sorts going on, photobooths, photoshoots with the different Avengers, a dance party, food and drinks, face painting, etc. Everyone was just enjoying their day, celebrating everything they've fought for in their lives to be who they are, being out and proud about their story and their own history. It was inspiring.

It was beautiful.

It was hopeful.

It was loud too and you needed a second to yourself.

Excusing yourself from the group, making your way out to the balcony. Watching the sun setting in the distance, casting a golden-pinkish glow over the city. The birds chirped a little louder and the soft wind ghosted over the trees. You finally released your breath, the events of the weekend once again playing in your head. Your family should be here, they should be but they weren't and it hurt, your dad hadn't once reached out to you, your mom barely spoke to you when she did and your siblings, well they called and promised they'd visit after the parade- you're getting lunch with them tomorrow. It still stung that you couldn't share this experience with them.

But everyone in there, everyone that stood by you today, they made it all that bit easier. The fact that you have this whole other chosen family, people and beings that just want you around because you are, who you are.

Because you're being yourself. They're all the support you need. All the love you could ever want.

It'll all feel easier in time, you knew that. It'll hurt less in time.

[covertius-fic]

My Contribution from Discord Telephone Game 13

I wanted to jump in with the people sharing what we wrote for the telephone games on the discord.  This is what I wrote for game 13:

***

It happened in the space of a second.  One moment, Erasmus was performing the stunt just like he’d practiced, moving through the field with balletic grace as pneumatic pistons tilted the ground one way or the other and choreographed jets of flame spurted out from between the cracks, just missing him as he moved along, with camera angles that would make the close calls look even closer.  Then one of the cameras spun around to get a closer shot of him, a medium shot of him dodging the flames that would be replaced with the actress’s face in post, and Erasmus looked directly into the round eye of the lens and froze like a deer in headlights.  The machinery continued around him just like it was supposed to and he was down on the ground and sliding towards a fire hazard.  The fraction of a second between Damen seeing what was happening and his crew completing the emergency stop was the scariest instant of Damen’s life.  They got everything halted in record time, but not soon enough to stop one jet of flame from searing his inner thigh, just below the flame-retardant layer of the shorts his character wore.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed out, squeezing Damen’s hand as the set paramedic finished his on-the-spot first aid and started prepping him for transportation to the hospital and a burn unit, “I ruined the shot.  I just saw the camera and thought - all those people watching and I-”

“Don’t worry about the fucking shot,” said Damen, “You just worry about getting better and let me worry about the movie.”

Erasmus’s sobs only increased, but Kallias, their on-site medic, started teasing him about how lucky he was that the burn wasn’t a little higher, that it had missed everything important and wouldn’t all the Hollywood hunks be pleased that Erasmus’s equipment was still in working order until he was blushing and laughing behind the tears.

“Will you ride with me?” he sniffed, as they loaded him into the ambulance.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” said the medic, and then they were out of Damen’s hair and he was free to worry about his other problems.  For a brief moment he wondered what he was going to do with the kid - if he froze up in front of the cameras like that, he was too much a danger to himself and others to continue being part of the stunt team, but firing him for getting injured seemed unbearably cold.  But he dismissed that problem for a later day.  His immediate concern was figuring out what the hell he was going to do for the rest of the shoot.

“If we break for an hour, you and I can go over the shooting schedule and pick some of the other stunt work to push up to today,” Damen told the already fuming director, “Then we can take another crack at this one later in the week.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man said, “Who’s the director here?  Are you the director?  Or are you just the stunt coordinator, who should be doing what you’re fucking told?”

“We don’t have another body double for Lorraina,” Damen explained patiently.

“Then get one!”  The director was so incensed about his movie being delayed a little he barely seemed to have noticed that a man almost died.

“Can do,” Damen said calmly, refusing to rise to the bait, “But it’ll take a couple days for them to learn the stunt well enough to proceed safely.”  He could contract out one of Vask Stunts’ women for a few days - eventually, they really needed to get a full time stunt woman on staff.  Erasmus had been their only guy small enough to pass for an actress.

“City permits, extra medical staff, fire department standing by … do you have any idea how much this stunt is costing the film?”  The director leaned closer, as if this whole thing was his fault.  Which in a way it was - his stunts, his people, his fault when something went wrong.  But he refused to feel guilty about the budget when he already felt bad enough about the new hire in the hospital.  “And you want to spend that money again another day?!”

“Unless you’ve got the CGI to make me or Nik look like Valeria the Adventuress in post-”  Damen and Nik had worked on planning the stunt out together, and they were the only two he trusted knew it well enough to risk having them perform it - “I’m telling you we have to wait to get another stunt person out here and trained.”

“I can do the stunt,” said a voice behind them.

“No you can’t,” Damen said automatically, without looking up.  Then he did turn and almost did a spit take at one of the hot guys he’d noticed from craft services who was butting his head into this.  The gall.

“I can do the stunt,” the guy repeated.  His dumb little craft services nametag read, “Hello, My Name Is Laurent.” “I’ve been watching them rehearse it for days, it’s not too complicated.”

“That’s the most complex stunt we have on this picture!”

“Yes.  It’s not a very imaginative series of action scenes.”

Damen turned back to the director.

“He can’t do the stunt.”

“I’ll sign any waiver you want me to, and take full responsibility for any possibility of accident or injury.  If I’m wrong, and I can’t do it, you face no more than the same delay that Damianos is already suggesting.  If I can, then you can proceed with filming your movie as scheduled.  What have you got to lose?”

“I’m not letting some green amateur kill himself running the most dangerous stunt we have.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurent said, “Are you the director?  Or are you just the stunt coordinator.”

Damen’s words were cut off as he saw the director’s face, head tilted and obviously considering this ridiculous plan.  He’d already been pissed that Damen had called the emergency stop the moment he saw Erasmus in danger - a second before he said, “Cut!”  Damen didn’t trust him not to throw his weight around on this, not if he thought he could get away with it.

“He’s not union,” Damen announced unassailably.

“I’m in the union.”  Laurent pulled a membership card out of his wallet.  “I have five years’ experience with Regency stunts.  We parted on bad terms, which is why I’m stuck serving sandwiches, but I’m still a union member.  I can do the stunt.”

Damen didn’t fancy wasting another hour of his already crappy day explaining to a rank-pulling director why this was a phenomenally stupid idea.

“We’ll rehearse the stunt with the safety protocols in place and no flames,” Damen conceded, “He does it perfectly seven times in a row, I’ll let him try the real thing.  One mistake, and he’s back at the craft table and you let me push the stunt back until I can get an actual professional in here.”

The director agreed to his terms, and Laurent went off to sign his wavers with a weight of relief off Damen’s shoulders.  He would fall on his ass the first time out, and then Damen could get back to running his show the way it was supposed to be.

Laurent did the stunt.  He ran it through perfectly the first time, and then the second, and the third.  He performed exactly as choreographed seven times in a row.  And then Damen was helpless to do anything but watch as Laurent suited up in the fire-safety version of Valeria’s costume, complete with the fake boobs, and prepared to run through the flames.  He and Nik looked on, grim faced.

He had to admit, it was kind of amazing watching Laurent move.  He twirled and leapt and grunted his way through the obstacles with a natural grace that exceeded even Erasmus.  Damen had choreographed this stunt himself, but watching him, he could almost forget that Laurent wasn’t really running for his life across a field of lava, jumping from rock to rock as molten earth spurted around him and juts of flame burst out from the angry ground.  It was an expensive stunt to carry out, a one-shot kind of deal.  Laurent got it in one shot.

Damen caught up with him after he’d changed back into his street clothes.

“I don’t like being ambushed like that,” said Damen, who liked to have everything planned within an inch to ensure the safety of his men.  Erasmus’s sudden stage fright after having done just fine with the smaller stunts and crowd scenes had already been one surprise too many today.

“You’ll have to get used to it.”

“I don’t have to do jack shit.  But that was some impressive work,” Damen conceded, “Send me your resume, and we’ll see about whether you’d make a good part of the team.”

“Oh, you’ll hire me,” Laurent said, “You should really look closer at the fine print on cards when people shove them in your face.  My employment with Regency ended long enough ago for my union membership to lapse.  You give me a job so I can legitimately re-up, or you just let a non-union stuntworker perform the landmark stunt for your new blockbuster.”

Damen sputtered.

“Nice working with you,” Laurent said, as he turned away, “Boss.”

Nikandros came up to him as he was glaring after Laurent’s retreating back.  He clapped Damen on the shoulder.

“Don’t fuck him.”

Damen whirled around in surprise.  “That guy is the most obnoxious asshole I’ve ever encountered in this business.  I don’t care what he looks like, why would I want to fuck him?”  

Nikandros stayed silent.  

“Besides, he’s joining the team now,” Damen went on, grimly conveying the bad news, “You know I don’t mess around with my own people.

Nik snorted.  “You don’t mess around with the talent either, and look how that turned out.”

Damen flinched.  Bringing up the whole Jokaste fiasco was a low blow, and he’s still not sure he can really be blamed for it.  Maybe for trusting her too much at the end, but in the beginning … she was a movie star!  Who turns down one of the most famous and gorgeous women on the planet?

“Trust me, Nik,” Damen said earnestly, looking back at where Laurent had disappeared to with hate in his eyes, “That’s one particular mistake you don’t have to worry about me making.”