#for hundreds of years and then throwing his grudges away in the name of love

[fauzhee10069]

TW-CW fandom-related RANT, read at your own risk.

i just now found out that beefleafers are worse than caatofags.

can't handle negativity and likes to gatekeep opinions.

even caatofags were loud in their delusion, they were not randomly shutting people off who disagree on them.

they may just brush it off with maturity.

just a single post, beefleafers' mentality already feel like being attacked.

imagine being a caatofag and read all of my posts denying their belief.

or imagine being a destieheller and asking every single one of anti-hellers to remove their posts/stop hating them.

you failed to provide me a proper argument like this, so you switch to do tag-keeping instead?

this problem shouldn't be overly hard to solve, by blocking me, your feed will look nice again.

i don't care having people blocking me more than you guys wish you could dictate me.

i don't know you and i don't care to know you.

it's not like you care to my other posts either.

you just want that single post to be gone on your feeds, right?

(...) -> block, just two clicks will solve that.

i've tested it myself, it simply swipes away the post you don't like.

it's more efficient than typing many words to complain in my ask box.

how long have you been in the internet?

does blocking feature sound alien to you?

i’m even going far to make this tutorial for you!

don't waste your time to change my mind, even a mother can't mold their kids into a man/woman she completely wanted.

i think I've done this much only for them.

of all my meta posts, this is the first time i have to give this massive warnings:

though it disrupts my usual writing flow, i’m still willing to do it.

then tw/cw tags:

EDIT:

this case reminded me of a Twitter trend a few months ago regarding entitled Wattpad users who wanted the algorithm to be implemented in AO3.

are most of the beefleafers in the generation of Wattpad users? Is that why they are not used to self-filters & lacking emotional maturity in viewing internet contents as they are too spoiled by the algorithm which often succeeds in showing the content they like?

so when the system fails them, they immediately become aggressive and blame the individual who made the post they don’t want to see.

i still want to believe that there are still enough mature beefleafers out there.

but if that's the case, they should be able to react to this post without confrontation.

just the word 'personal opinion' should be enough not to make them baper easily offended.

this one is not even properly tagged, so if there is beefleafer who gets triggered by this post and complain to me, THAT'S IT! You're truly the problem.

[justkending]

Moral of the Story (Prologue)

Series Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, and a tragic heartbreaking divorce, the two now hold grudges for how the other handled the whole thing in the past. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all. (This summary will be shorter in other chapters. I just needed to get the full concept out there;)

A/N (repeat): So the other day while I was doing my hair (quite the process), I was playing music and the song Moral of the Story by Ashe came on. Mind you, I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, but for some reason, this time I got a major story idea! Listening to the lyrics brought me to this new series. Of course, the lengthy summary above will give you an idea of what came to my brain, but I recommend you listen to the song still because it plays a big part in my thought process:) (Plus it’s a good song;) Enjoy and please do not hesitate to share your thoughts and comments with me! I love each and every single one<3

(I will release the first chapter at the beginning of next week! That way I can give myself some time to write more chapters before sharing it!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N (Modern AU)

Word Count: 1200+

Prologue:

"Melody, have the papers for the Bee's Knees company come in yet?"

"Uh, no. But I can call them again and see if they faxed it or sent over a physical copy though," Melody answered from her desk, already typing away to find the company.

"Perfect. We have a meeting with a recycling plant next week and I want to get everything set before we go in with them," Y/N nodded, coming out from her office with a file in her hands. She turned to her assistant at the front desk who was about 20 emails deep and already finding the issue. "Hey, you're not coming in tomorrow, right?"

"Um, no, no. I am. I rescheduled that date," she answered bashfully as if she had been caught in the act of something.

"Melody..." Y/N drug out, hand on her hip.

"What? I- He understood. He said he was fine moving it to Saturday," the young woman shrugged, never looking back at her boss that was clearly sending her a motherly stare.

"You're already over your 40 hours this week, and you've rescheduled with him, what? 3 times now?" Y/N moved to the front of the desk so the young brunette had to make eye contact with her.

"Yes," she answered hesitantly.

"Is it just nerves or something else?" Y/N smirked.

"I'm not nervous... It's just been a while since I've had time for a date."

"Two things about what you just said in the past minute. One, clearly this guy likes you because he's rescheduled with you this many times and hasn't called it off yet. So if you're nervous about it not going well on his end, I think you're safe," Y/N pointed a finger at her.

"But-," Melody started.

"Second," Y/N cut off with a raised eyebrow. "I'm giving you time to go on a date and you're still not taking it. Work is no longer an excuse."

Melody stopped avoiding eye contact and looked up at the Y/H/C hair woman leaning on her reception desk.

"You've been talking with my mom again, haven't you?" she sighed.

"I promised I'd take care of you. So yes, I have. And though her reasoning for you dating is because she wants grandbabies, I just want you to have fun and live your life. You're 22. Don't waste your young years being scared."

"Ugh, fine. I'll text him now and see if he's still available for tonight," she groaned.

"Perfect!" Y/N grinned in victory as she started to walk back to her office. "I expect the details in the morning," she winked before she walked in.

"Oh, Y/N!" Melody stopped her. "A message came for you while you were in that last meeting."

"Who from?" Y/N quirked an eyebrow, moving back to the desk.

"Uh, I don't really know. Didn't sound familiar, but here's the name and number they said to call back from," she answered, handing her a note.

Y/N took the small paper and looked it over. Her face dropped and her eyes widened.

"You ok? Is it someone you know?" the young assistant asked, noticing what looked like horror on her face.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, an old acquaintance of mine," Y/N tried to quickly brush off. "Um, I'm going to take this. Can you hold any calls and if anyone comes to talk, tell them to just email me?"

"Oh, ok. Yeah, I'll take care of it," Melody nodded.

"Thank you."

Rushing back to her office and quickly shutting her door, she raced to her phone. She read the business name again, not sure if she was dreaming or if it was a hallucination.

Nope. Hammer Attorney was written in Melody's perfect penmanship on the paper with a number that held an area code from New York. A place she never thought she would hear from again and from a town she hadn't visited in almost 10 years._________________

"Buck, did you tell Fury about getting those new water therapy machines?" Steve shouted from his room.

"We're at home, Steve. Why are we talking about work?" Bucky groaned as he slouched on the couch. A beer in hand and a documentary with I Survived stories playing in front of him.

Steve came in from around the corner looking down at his phone in hand before moving his eye line to his roommate.

"Because I just got a call from the night crew saying that the last one that was working, finally went out tonight while they were running it for some test," Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, you would think that a facility run by a billionaire who literally makes his money on high-tech machines, wouldn't have to ask for those kinds of things," Bucky groaned, grabbing his own phone and going through emails. "Let me check to see if the email went through. He wasn't in office when I went to tell him."

As he was sorting through the hundreds of emails sent back and forth just this week alone, he found the reply message.

"Yeah, management confirmed it. They should be in by Saturday it looks like. Guess Stark was still working out the kinks to a new one and was waiting to send one our way until the last one died to get more time on his newest model."

Steve nodded before walking to the kitchen and typing Bucky's response to the other crew members.

"The man is always finding new ways to upgrade them before he can even send them to us."

Just as Bucky was about to throw his phone to the side again though, it started ringing. Looking at the caller ID, he didn't recognize the unknown number. It was from in-state but in his hometown area of Brooklyn. He pinched his eyebrows together confused at the call, but answered it anyway, thinking it must be someone from home.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Mr. Barnes?" The other voice answered.

"Yes, this is him. Who's this?" he asked, sitting up a little and putting the beer on the end table.

"My name is Matthew Murdock. I work at Nelson and Murdock Law firm," he went on. Bucky shook his head not knowing what that was supposed to mean. "Well, you may actually know us previously as Hammer Attorney. We recently just took over their business after some fraud issues."

Bucky's heart stopped. He knew what that name meant.

"I hate to inform you, but we were going through some of their old files. Ones we were informed could be incomplete or done completely incorrectly due to little care in the actual cases, but more so in taking the money."

"Incomplete cases?" Bucky said softly. His brain was still trying to wrap around the conversation.

"Yes, unfortunately, it looks like a lot of cases having to deal with divorces that the past owners handled, were done strictly in order to launder money. They weren't actually certified, nor trained in handling divorce settlements."

Bucky froze. Eyes wide. Mouth agape.

He stuttered out a response when the man on the other line didn't continue.

"A-And talking about incomplete divorce settlements, you called because..." Bucky knew. He needed to hear it out loud because if he didn't, it wasn't true. It couldn't be.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Barnes, but it looks as though you and your wife, Y/N Y/L/N or sorry, Y/N Barnes, are actually not divorced."

(I will release the first chapter at the beginning of next week! That way I can give myself some time to write more chapters before sharing it!)

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555  @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​ @pham-tastical 

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @carls1022​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @carls1022​ @anise-d-castle6​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​ @alyispunk​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​

[headinthestaticsky]

The Phenomenon of the Immortal Sun: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 1

Summary: It was time for Fleur Swan to become Fleur Hale/Whitlock. She has started to adjust to the lifestyle of a vegetarian vampire as well as her powers, which she seems to develop a new one once in a while. But what happens when something happens that none of the Cullens are prepared for.

"Nature will get her way Though you took her for a fool Walking on the lake Frozen under you."

Run Cried the Crawling by, Anges Obel

When Bella got home from Vegas with Edward at her side it was the most pissed off my dad had ever been at her. He knew she would throw out the "I'll move away." Card on him but he wasn't fazed by it anymore. She was married, and a adult... he couldn't stop her. It was satisfying to see dad finally stand up to her, letting go of the fear of losing her. Bella eventually developed a guilty look on her face while Edward tensed by her side. She decided that she would have her honeymoon after Jasper and I got married, since dad would know we would both be out of the house. It confused me since she would have to wait 5 months just to go on her honeymoon, it also delayed her changing into a vampire. Since they both agreed to do it on there honeymoon.

Regarding me however my eyes are still a dark red rose color, which completely puzzled the Cullens. It confused me as well...knowing that after a year of transformation my eyes should be golden by now. I had never drunken an once of human blood but, my eyes were just as red as they were when I first turned. My blood lust got a lot better and I was beginning to gain control of my powers. It turns out I am also a shape shifter in a sense... I can transform myself into anyone I wanted to be. Things seemed to have calmed down it was nice to have a moment of serenity.

I stood in my room which was now void of my items being out on display. They were instead all in boxes stacked up on top of each other. Dad helped me out earlier in the day, it was nice to spend so one-on-one time with him while I still lived here. Bella was packing up too, excited to finally leave the house and become a vampire. She wouldn't let dad help her out however and spent her time locked up in her room. Probably waiting for Edward to enter and talk with her. I just sat down on my bed looking at my surroundings when I heard Jasper enter through my window.

"I was waiting for you to show up." I said grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.

"Mmm, hello to you too." Jasper said.

"You're not going to believe who accepted my RVSP'd to the wedding..."

"Who is it?"

"My mom, her new husband is coming with her too."

"I hope they won't cause any trouble." Jasper grumbled.

"Well... the last thing I said to her was when I moved back down here when I was 15...I told her that next time I see her would be at my wedding. I then told her that she would enjoy the the open bar and her speech for me would be her barfing all over the place. So umm... be prepared for that to happen." I explained trying to hold in a laugh at the face Jasper made.

"Damn love...you're brutal sometimes."

"Thank you... that is so sweet to say!"

"You better get down to our place... Alice and Rosalie are waiting for you so they can throw you a Bachelorette party."

"Yeah... they'll probably break the house trying to get to me." I said and then began to laugh.

"Have fun darlin." Jasper said softly.

"You too, if Emmett, Edward, and Dean got you a stripper I will murder all of them."

"Don't worry about that darlin, we're merely going out to the woods to hunt bears... maybe a few mountain lions. Besides Edward won't be there anyway"

"Oh fun...wait, Edward won't be there?"

"Yeah... it seems he still holds a grudge after I called him a boy before the battle."

"Only a boy would be offended by that." I said

"I better go love you." Jasper replied and pecked my cheek.

"Love you too." I did the same thing, pecking his cheek. He left a few seconds afterward leaving me alone. I pulled on pair of boots and ran downstairs.

"I'll see you later dad, Rose and Alice are throwing me a little party."

"Alright Petal, love you."

"Love you too!"

I arrived at the Cullen's house in record time, my tracking ability had improved greatly. I zoomed up to the door and before I could open it Rosalie, Esme, Bree, and Alice stood there with excited smiles on their faces.

"The party has arrived." I said jokingly.

They all laughed and ushered me into the lounge room.

Bree had been living with us ever since the end of the battle, she struggled to conform to the diet after living off of human blood so long and she couldn't leave the house much since she was presumed dead. But Jasper has been helping her out a lot.

"I can't wait to see what you did with the venue outside... can I take a look?"

"No, you may not, Rosalie and I all agreed that you shouldn't see it until tomorrow. It'll be great with the pictures."

"Okay okay... is the dress finished?"

"Yes, now that you can see." Rosalie said, dragging me down to her room. A large vanity was set up with hundreds of makeup products. I turned around and saw my dress... it was beautiful.

(I know the dresses aren't exactly the same but just pretend the one showing off the back of the dress has sleeves haha.)

a"Oh my gosh Rose, you know my style so well."

"You're going to look beautiful tomorrow." Esme said, her gracious smile still on her face.

"Thank you guys so much... for everything."

"No problem Fleur, I can't wait for you to officially be a part of the family." Alice replied.

"So, how is everything back at home?" Rosalie said, already playing with my hair.

"It's tense...dad's pissed at Bella, Bella is pissed at dad. I still can't believe she actually eloped."

"Doesn't surprise me any... Bella's priorities have certainly changed." Alice grumbled.

"Yeah... not gonna lie though Alice they've always been like that, she just hid it from you guys pretty well."

"Yeah... I guess so." Alice said disappointment was on her face.

"Let's talk about something else...Fleur, did Jasper tell you where you two were going for your honeymoon?"

"No... he wants it to be a surprise, I can't wait to see where we're going."

"I'm sure it's going to be fun." Alice said, nudging me playfully.

"If I could blush right now, I would." I said.

Timeskip: The next day.

"Rosalie this is like we rehearsed it... smile and don't kill my mother." I reminded her.

"I'll try my best... Why does Bella have to be a bridesmaid again?" She said, brushing back my long black hair.

"Because I don't need my mother talking my ear off saying how selfish I am."

I saw Alice shake her head before going back to steaming my dress in the background.

"Fleur, Rosalie? Where are you guys?" I heard my dad call out.

"In here dad!" I called back.

"Renee get your butt up here your daughter is getting married. Get over this stupid grudge." I heard dad yell. Rosalie, Alice, and I all laughed.

"Aww, you look beautiful Petal." Dad said, smiling at me. I said Renee in the background she had a shocked look on her face.

"Thanks, Dad, you can thank Rosalie and Alice for all of this. Mom? You gonna come over? I'm not infected with anything you know."

She scoffed and walked up to me, we both gave each other fake smiles.

"Did you get plastic surgery? Your face looks... I don't know more sculpted." She said.

"No mother I just aged... the last time you saw me I was 15, I'm 20 now." I lied, everyone knew most vampires' facial features perfected when fully changed. But I couldn't exactly tell her that.

"Okay..." She said in a skeptical voice. I heard Rosalie growl behind me.

"Renee knock it off." Dad said he had a curt look on his face.

"Well since it's your wedding day we thought you needed something blue." Renee started, her face didn't look too happy.

"And something old, besides your mother." Dad joked, Rosalie and Alice let out a chuckle.

"Nice Charlie," Renee said rolling her eyes.

Dad then opened a jewelry box that had a hairpiece in it. I knew it was grandma swans.

"It was Grandma Swans, I added the Sapphires though, I thought it matched your ring pretty well. When the time comes around you can give it to your daughter." Dad said he handed it to Rosalie so she could put it in my hair.

"Aww thank you so much dad." I said I was lucky I didn't have my dress on yet so I could hug him.

"Should've saved this for Bella." Renee grumbled quitely.

"Oh no I forgot her veil, Rose could you come with me?" Alice asked.

Rosalie hesitated before answering.

"Sure..." They walked out a few seconds later.

"So... you stuck true to your guns. I didn't see you until your wedding day." Dad just looked at the two of us and walked out.

"Yep."

"How many men did you date before you got engaged to this one. I know how bored you can get." Renee said, implying I sleep around a lot.

"He's the first and only man I've dated." Renee's reflection was shocked in the mirror.

"Well... I knew my Bella would do that but... not, you." She said in a condescending voice.

"You have no idea what Bella has done."

"So who is he?" Renee said, ignoring my previous statement.

"His name is Jasper and he's an amazing, kind human being." I answered back, pride-filled my voice. I could suddenly feel Bella's presence behind the wall in the other room listening in on us.

"Sure... we all know women like you say that when the men have slept with you."

"You're childish insults do not bother me anymore mother."

"What childish insults? I'm stating facts." Renee said, acting innocent.

"Yeah, facts you convinced yourself are true."

"All I know is if my Bella wouldn't gotten married so young. So let's cut to the chase how far along are you?"

'I'm not pregnant Renee, I need to go help Rose and Alice find that veil." I got up to walk away when I got an idea.

"Oh by the way, Bella got married at nineteen in Vegas."

Renee just stood there in shock. I smiled in satisfaction.

"Enjoy the open bar!"

[renaerys]

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[cellophanejpeg]

where it's so sweet and heavenly

(gif made by me)

pairing: Marcus Pike x F!reader

summary: An unexpected surprise leaves you anxious about your relationship with Marcus.

warnings: a bit of angst

word count: 3.6k

masterlist || series masterlist

“Are you okay?” Your coworker, Anne, asks as you lean over the sink and take a deep breath.

You’ve been feeling weird all morning. Well, scratch that, you’ve been feeling weird all week. You’ve been more tired than usual, and your emotions have been everywhere. Just last night, you cried over a dog food commercial, claiming the puppies were too cute. Marcus hugged to comfort you and laughed at your reaction later. Now your stomach is acting up and you feel sick every abrupt moment you make. The smell of the hospital is making you gag every time you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You sigh, feeling a little better after taking a short break. “I’m feeling kinda weird lately.”

“Something you ate?” She approaches you, looking at the dark circles under your eyes through the mirror.

“Probably.” You grimace, thinking about the ham and eggs you tried to prepare for yourself this morning. No matter how hard you tried, you could never cook it as well as Marcus. He always makes you breakfast when you stay over his place or vice versa. Sometimes he makes you dinner too. Most times. He knows you’re not really good at cooking. Being neighbors with your boyfriend has its perks.

Regardless, you continue to work, longing for your lunch break, where you’re supposed to spend it with Marcus. You’re more excited to see him than to eat since you continue to feel sick all morning. Later, in the locker room, as you change from your scrubs to your usual clothes to go out for lunch, Anne shows up again and asks you a strange question.

“Hey, when did you have your last period?”

“What?” You laugh, throwing a shirt over your head.

“You said you’ve been feeling weird lately... Don’t you think maybe you could be, you know... pregnant?” She argues, sitting on the bench near you.

You’re not pregnant. You’re a nurse, you would’ve noticed the symptoms if you were pregnant.

“That’s possible,” You huff a laugh, shaking your head. “Marcus and I– We use protection every time and I’m on the pill.”

Anne shrugs. “You know no contraceptive method is one hundred percent safe.”

“Yeah, but what are the chances of the condom breaking the same time the pill fails?”

You stare at her and the silence grows between the both of you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s possible. Of course you do, but you don’t want to think about it. Not right now.

When Marcus arrives to pick you up, you greet him with a kiss on the lips and a smile. Things have been going great between you two. Nine months officially together and you couldn’t be happier. He’s kind and appreciative of you, and you don’t know how you got so lucky to have met him. He’s always understanding and respectable of you. The perfect boyfriend.

Marcus drives to your favorite Italian restaurant, offering to pay for the meal. Of course he would take you to have your favorite meal on a common day. But today you don't feel so good. It starts with the car ride to the restaurant. Marcus always drives safely, but you feel sick with every turn the car takes. When you get to the restaurant, you can’t even eat half of your food. You keep staring at it and feel like throwing up.

“Everything okay, baby?” Marcus asks and you look up at his concerned eyes.

“Yeah,” You smile at him. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.”

“You sure?” He takes your hand over the table and you melt under his touch.

“Yeah…” You smile at him. “Maybe we could have it to go?”

“Only if you promise you’ll eat something this afternoon.”

Your smile grows and you look away, cheeks burning under his gaze. He’ll always make you intimated with his immense worry and care for you. That’s why you love him so much.

“I promise.” You nod at him.

When Marcus is done eating, you both make small talk before leaving. As you stand from your seat, a wave of nausea hits you and you take a deep breath, trying to make it go away. He doesn’t seem to notice you stood behind and continues to walk away. You slowly try to take a step to follow him but feel what you just ate in your throat. You don’t know if you call for him, or just run to the restroom. Fortunately, he notices you’re not by his side and frowns confused, walking back to you.

“Sweetheart? Are you–” He starts but is interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

“Pike?”

You both turn to the source of the interruption and you see a couple staring at both of you. She’s tall, dark haired and blue eyed, while he’s even taller, blonde, and also blue eyed. They look like a couple out of a movie. Marcus huffs out a laugh and shakes his head as he looks at the couple.

“What are you two doing here?” He asks, with a smile on his face.

“Business trip,” The man answered, smiling at you two. You look at them confused, but offer a polite smile at them.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Marcus rests his hand on the small of your back and introduces you to them. “These are Patrick and Teresa. Some old colleagues from Texas.”

“Oh.” You smile, shaking Patrick’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” Teresa leans in to shake your hand and her sweet perfume invades your nostrils. It’s strong but syrupy and it hits you with another wave of nausea. It takes everything in you not to gag in front of them and keep a neutral face, but you might have done a face because Teresa wrinkles her brows at you.

“Are you okay?” She asks, still holding your hand.

“Yeah.” You nod, letting go of her and turning to Marcus. “I need to go to the restroom–”

Marcus looks at you concerned and opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already turning your back to him and rushing to the restrooms. When you reach them, you barely have time to kneel on the floor before letting the contents of your stomach out in the toilet. Tears water your eyes and you clutch the porcelain bowl on the side with a strong grip, as if to comfort you. After it’s over, you sit on the floor and lean on the wall of the cabin, taking deep breaths.

You can’t be pregnant. You’ve been with Marcus for not even a year. But the symptoms are there. You think back when Anne asked you the last time you’ve had your period and realized you missed last month. Closing your eyes, you try to hold back tears. No use to cry when you’re not one hundred percent sure of it. So you take a couple of breaths and try to clear your mind.

Forcing yourself to stand up, you wash your mouth and face with cold water and pop a mint in your mouth. When you leave the bathroom, you take two steps before getting jumped at by Patrick.

“Jesus!” You put your palm on your chest, letting out a breath.

“Sorry.” He smiles at you and watches your face. “Are you feeling better?”

There’s something about his expression, his eyes are roaming all over your face and you feel a weird sensation in your stomach. Not nauseating, like before, but something in your gut telling you to stay away from him.

“Uh, yeah,” You answer before starting to walk back to Marcus.

“Good. So, when are you going to tell him?” He starts walking beside you.

“Tell who what?”

“Marcus. That you’re pregnant.”

You stop walking and turn your head to him so fast it almost gives you whiplash. Frowning deeply, you look at him confused.

“I’m not pregnant.” Your voice is just a whisper, afraid Marcus will listen to your words even though he’s feet away from you.

“You were throwing up, weren’t you?” He points his thumb in the direction of the restrooms.

“The food…” You trail off, frowning deeply.

“No, it wasn’t the food, was it? You’ve been feeling nauseous since you set foot in this restaurant.”

Okay, so now this guy is starting to scare you. “You’ve been watching us–”

“Yes.” He interrupts you and keeps talking like it’s nothing. “How long have you two been together? A year? Two?”

“Nine months…” You answer almost automatically still trying to figure out how this man knew you’ve been sick before.

“Ah, so that’s why you haven’t told him.”

“I’m not–”

“Listen, don’t worry about Marcus, okay?” He interrupts you again, touching your shoulder. "I'm sure he'll be supportive. I mean, I wanted to marry Teresa months after they met, he was willing to give her–"

"What?" It's you who interrupts him this time. "Teresa…?"

"Oh," The smile fades away from his face. "You didn't know."

You watch as he tries to walk away. Marcus had told you of an ex-fiance that left him for another man, but he never told you her name. He never told you what exactly happened.

"Wait," You call him, holding his forearm. Glancing at Marcus and Teresa, you see them talking normally and smiling at each other. You feel a sting of jealousy in your heart, nothing but a small poke of a needle in your feelings. It bleeds a little but you quickly swallow the light pain down and look at Patrick again. "Teresa and Marcus–"

"Listen," Patrick sighs and looks at you. "That was years ago. I'm sure Marcus doesn't hold any grudges by the way he's smiling at her. And don't worry about the baby, he seems like the family type of man."

With that, he walks away leaving you behind with your thoughts. When you return to your boyfriend you give the excuse your lunch break is ending and that you have to go. Marcus immediately complies, saying his goodbyes to the couple and driving you back to work. The car ride is much more silent than before and you can't stop thinking about what Patrick had told you.

Marcus stops the car on the other side of the street in front of the hospital and sighs deeply.

"Alright, what did he say to you?" He asks, turning his body to face you.

"Who?" You unfasten your seatbelt and look at him.

"Patrick."

Your gaze drops and you think About lying to him. But you decide to tell him the truth, regardless, there are no lies between the both of you 

"He said…" You hesitate. "He told me about Teresa."

Marcus' eyes widen a little, but he lets out a little sigh indicating he knew it was coming sooner or later. When he doesn't speak, you continue.

"He told me you wanted to marry her after… Months of relationship. Is it true? She was the one who left you?"

"Yeah, that was–" He laughs, looking away for a moment and then looking back at you. "Yes."

Nodding, you wait for him to speak again; he looks into your smile and offers you an honest smile.

"I used to jump into relationships. Get too excited, wanting to skip to the best part." He explains. "With you, I– I wanted something different. Wanted to take it slow. Something I've never done before and honestly? It's the best thing I've ever done. I don't feel like I have to rush things with you."

Despite the sweet words and good intentions, your heart drops at them. If Marcus wanted to take things slow with you, how would he react to you being pregnant?

That is if you're pregnant.

You smile at him anyway and press your lips to his but pull away quickly. Hoping he can't see the tears in your eyes, you open the door to leave.

"I have to go," You say, trying to conceal your emotions. "We'll talk more about this later, at my place?"

"Sure." He smiles at you. "Pizza or Chinese? Or do you want me to cook again?"

"Pizza is fine." You close the car door and duck to look at him through the window. "I'll be home by 8."

"I love you, okay?" Marcus searches your eyes. Your gut tells you he knows something is off, but he doesn’t push you to talk or anything. Instead, he just smiles sweetly at you.

A beat of silence passes before you answer him, voice quivering.

"I love you too."

…

Tears water your eyes as you look at the plastic stick sitting on the bathroom sink. After having lunch with Marcus, you marched to Anne and asked her to draw your blood to run a pregnancy test. The results would be sent to your email by the evening and you were nervous and jittery all day. It’s a miracle you weren’t sick anymore, but your emotions were definitely everywhere. The symptoms were so obvious, that you’re almost embarrassed to admit they totally flew by your head. On your way home, anxiety was eating you on the inside, so you stopped at a drugstore and bought the cheapest pregnancy test to bring home. And there it is.

Two lines.

You try not to cry, not to lose your mind over it, deciding to trust the blood test rather than the pharmacy one. Besides, Marcus could be knocking on your door at any moment and you wanted to be sure before telling him.

Holy shit, you’re gonna have to tell him. You can’t even imagine how disappointed he’s going to get. He wanted to take things slow with you and now you’ve ruined it.

Almost as if on cue, the doorbell to your apartment rings, echoing the place and scaring you. You quickly throw the test in the trash bin and rush to the door. Marcus is standing by your door with a pizza box in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. Despite your feelings at the moment, you let yourself smile, feeling a warmth in your chest.

“What’s the occasion?” You ask as he comes in, handing you the flowers.

Daisies and Baby’s Breath. Your favorites.

“Just thought I’d bring my girlfriend some flowers.” He shrugs with a nonchalant tone in his voice as he places the pizza on your coffee table.

You smile at him and press your lips against him, in a sweet kiss. “I love them. Thanks.”

Marcus radiates serenity. Somehow, as you sit on the couch to eat with him and watch old movies, gives you peace. And you realize you want that peace for the rest of your life. If he’s willing to accept the fact that you got pregnant after nine months of a relationship, you could be together. Live together. Maybe even get married, who knows? The thought brings a tiny smile on your lips. This man got you wrapped around his little finger and he doesn’t even know it.

“I can practically hear your thoughts, sweetheart.” Marcus lays a hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb on the soft fabric of your sweats.

Looking up, you see warm brown eyes, wrinkles in the corners, honesty in them. But what if he doesn’t want it? What if Teresa left him traumatized? What if he decides he doesn't want to have a family with you right now? What if he wants you to get an abortion?

“I don't feel like I have to rush things with you.”

His words echo in your mind as you feel your smile fading away and anxiety slowly creeps into you again.

“Honey?” He calls you, shifting to move closer to you.

“I need to tell you something.” You barely recognize your voice as you talk.

Marcus gets anxious and you can see it in the way he straightens his back and mutes the television, looking you straight in the eyes. This is it. The calm before the storm. You take a deep breath and open your mouth to speak, but your phone dings on the coffee table and your heart speeds up even more.

“Sorry, I just have to–” You pick up the phone and unlock it, quickly tapping on the email notification.

It’s the results of your blood test. You breathe out as you skim your eyes through them, tears welling up your eyes. Marcus calls your name and you let out a sob, covering your mouth with your hand. He doesn’t hesitate and pulls you to an embrace, even though he doesn’t know what’s causing you to panic.

“Baby, you’re scaring me.” He confesses, the low tone of his voice vibrating on your skin as you let him hold you close to his chest.

“I’m s-sorry, I just–” You sob, pulling away and looking at him with teary eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Marcus’s eyes widen a bit and he can’t hide the surprise on his face as you start rambling.

“You said you wanted to– to take things slow after– after Teresa, and I– I– I’m sorry, I was on the pill and I didn’t think– I’m sorry, Marcus, I ruined everything– It’s not– It’s not even a year since we’re together and– fuck, I’m so-sorry–”

“Hey.” He’s calm as he cups your cheeks with his big warm hands. “Breathe.”

You let out a couple of shaky breaths until you calm down. He has a cool exterior, his face is completely neutral and you wonder if he’s calm inside too. Surely the news caught him off guard by the way he reacted to it, but you thought he’d be freaking out.

“Before I say anything, I want you to know that this is not your fault, alright?” He makes sure you’re looking at him by tilting your face up. “It takes two to tango, after all.”

You let out a breathy laugh at the saying and Marcus smiles with you. “Yeah?” He asks, his smiles growing when he sees yours. You nod, grabbing his wrists to keep his hand on your wet cheeks. He wipes the remaining tears there and you sniff, feeling much calmer now.

“So, what do you want to do?” He asks, stroking your hair lightly.

“What?” You wrinkle your brows.

“Do you want to keep it?”

The question catches you off guard and you take longer than you expected to answer.

“I–” You hesitate. “I don’t know…”

“Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”

Your heart skips at that and you feel your eyes water again. Marcus looks at you expectantly as you think about your answer. You haven’t thought this through, to be honest. You were so nervous about telling him that you didn’t stop to think whether you wanted this or not. But looking at him right now, it makes your heart flutter. Like just moments ago when you felt peace with him.

Now you realize he is your peace. He’s your safe place. And there is nothing you want more than… him.

“You...” You hesitate. “You said– You wanted to take things slow…”

He sighs, taking your hands in his. “I know, baby.” He reaches to your cheeks, wiping a stray tear there. “But if you want to keep it, just know I’m all in. I’m not going anywhere.”

A silent pause hangs in the air as you go over your options. Keeping it would definitely change things between the both of you. Permanently. But maybe for the best? Maybe it doesn’t have to be a bad thing, having a baby with him. He takes care of you so well, why wouldn’t he take care of a child that’s his?

“I think I wanna keep it.” You whisper, still uncertain of his reaction.

But Marcus smiles. He flashes a grin so wide it makes your heart burst with happiness.

“Yeah?” He says, grinning like he had just won the lottery.

“Yeah.” You nod as he cups your cheeks again and presses his lips on yours. Marcus then pulls you to his chest, kissing your hair and sighing. You swear it’s a sigh of relief, but you can’t tell with your emotions going crazy at the moment. “How are you so calm?”

He chuckles, the laugh vibrating through your body. “I’m not.” He pulls away to look at you, still smiling. “I’m freaking out. But in a good way. I’m excited!”

A smile spreads on your face as you bring your lips to his once more.

“We’re gonna have a baby, Marcus,” You whisper on his mouth.

Marcus nods and pulls you to a tight hug, a hug that takes your breath away.

“We’re gonna have a baby!” He repeats with more enthusiasm as he pulls away to kiss you once more. “You’re gonna be a mom and I’m gonna be a dad!”

You let out a laugh, smiling widely. “That’s usually how it goes, babe.”

He kisses you again and again and again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Marcus.”

He looks at you with widened eyes for a second, the look of excitement never leaving your face.

“Oh, my gosh, are we gonna have a boy?”

“That’s not–”

“Can we have a Junior?!” He interrupts before you can finish.

“Absolutely fucking not.” You laugh at him. “I will not let you name our child–”

“What if it’s a girl?”

“Marcus!” You laugh at his demeanor. “Calm down!”

Marcus smiles at you gives you yet another kiss on the lips. “I’m sorry, I can’t. We’re gonna have a baby!”

You can’t believe you’re doing this, but you’re happy it’s with him. You’re happy he’s excited and looking forward to it. And that makes you happy and excited too. Even though it’s a little soon.

__

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let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my works!

[doctorslippery]

(Knowledge) Ancient tomes of sacred lore begin fading away.

(Life) All healing magic now comes at a cost to the casters own health.

(Light) The sky is darkened to a permanent twilight.

(Nature) Large swathes of wilderness are infected by a strange rot.

(Tempest) Droughts spread across the land as rain doesn’t fall as often.

(Trickery) People with normally good humor become cold and bitter.

(War) Morale is decreased and soldiers begin to mutiny against their officers.

(Death/Grave) Undead creatures have a chance to randomly rise from graves without a spell cast by a necromancer.

(Forge) The knowledge of forging mithral and adamantine armor and weapons is lost.

Nothing. Once the god is the creator of it’s own domain, but it is able to maintain itself in its absence

(Arcana) All spells now have a chance to go wild.

(Fire) The world becomes cold as it goes into a long winter

(Air) The air becomes polluted and difficult to breath. Many people die of lung related issues.

(Water) Rivers and oceans go stagnant and unmoving.

(Earth) The land becomes infertile and unusable.

(Time) Time rifts start appearing everywhere causing things from the past and the future to come into the present.

(Dragons) All dragons, dragonborn, and kobolds turn to dust

(Darkness) The world becomes filled with endless light and a never ending day

(Love) Family and friends start to hate one another and form grudges over the smallest things

(Order) Revolutions happen everywhere and anarchy reigns supreme

(Good) Empathy and altruism are no more as people are looking out for themselves

(Evil) Angels descend from the heavens to purge the world now knowing that there is no evil god to protect the wicked

(Nature) The forests run amok. Animals and plants invade cities, as every natural order accelerates out of control.

(Nature) Conversely, the forests and fields begin to die. Animals grow sickly and lethargic.

(Nature) The seasons begin to spin out of control. A day dawns with blazing heat, but snow covers the ground to a foot by lunch, and a monsoon rages that night.

(Death) Nothing may die. Nothing. Not the cattle, not the sickly, not the old, not those grievously wounded. Souls are bound to their bodies, and may never set off on their journey. Chop someone into bits, and every tiny piece still twitches in agony.

(Any) As the gods ‘body’ decomposes their essence (what they were the god of) infects the land affecting all who lived below their realm eg if the goddess of nature dies – nature explodes over the area (eventually after hundreds of years the natural green will die and become the land will become barren after the body completes decomposing). If it was the god of war or anger – every person and animal in the realm becomes driven by anger/easily angered, and plants become more dangerous, etc

(Nature) nature becomes twisted and more and more aberration like.

(Nature) herbivores turn predatory and hunt for meat

(Forge) weapons turn weak, Metal is prone to bending and it tarnishes easily.

(Weather) drought spreads across the land

(Weather) destructive “sunder storms” where lightning falls like rain destroy the landscape.

(Weather) winter never ends.

(Any) Angels, demons, fey, other gods, and spirits start competing for that gods power and worship to fill the vacuum

(Any) If the god who dies has worshippers still his corpse enters an odd undead state. He’s too week to be an actual god again or become truly alive again. However his remaining worshippers keep him from truly dying.

(Any) desecration of the area in which it died.

(Any) the nature and landscape where it died twisting to reflect the gods domain

(Any) people in the area also changing to reflect the gods domain

(Any) powerful magic soaks into the land creating powerful items. Things like spiders whose venom can only be cured by other god touched magic. Plants whose berries heal you and their juice can even raise the dead, etc.

(Knowledge) every self aware creature must succeed on a DC 10 Int saving throw or take 1D4 psychic damage and lose as many memories as the DM decides while also losing 1d4 Ing Stat.

(Any) The heavens begin to fall to earth/fuse with the material plane

(Any) Paladins will be in a huge pickle during their conquests.

(Protection) Warding and shielding spells no longer work.

(Protection) The ancient wards that kept the Elder Evils, horrible beings whose power even the gods fear, at bay fall.

(Any) People realize the gods are not immortal, and in reaction, faith in all of the gods begins to falter.

(Tempest) The entire world becomes still: no wind, no waves, not even clouds, like the world is perfectly smooth.

(Trickery) Nobody remembers that they can lie. Everyone either states the truth or is silent, ruining the world’s governments by disabling political maneuvering.

(Forge) Metal no longer melts, making all previously forged weapons exponentially more valuable, even an old rusty sword.

(Any) All of the people that were sacrificed to the gods come back (betrayed heroes, betrayed family members etc), but all of the things that gods has given to us fade away.

(Any) Outsiders from other worlds reveal themselves as the liberators, freeing us from our oppressors by killing the gods.

(Any) The god is replaced by another god that does a terrible (or better) job as the dead god temporary replacement.

(Any) The god was slain, the being that slew the god gains the gods power or becomes the god

(Any) Nothing. The god may have been responsible for creating or shaping it’s aspect, but once it was created it doesn’t need the god to maintain it.

(Any) The gods power leaks from its remains. Any magic of the gods aspect is greatly amplified for several years. The closer to the remains the greater the power is amplified

(Death) Everything that dies rises as a zombie.

(Death) Spirits of the dead are unable to move on. Everything that dies becomes a ghost.

(Death) Spirits of the dead start coming back to the living world

(Knowledge) people begin to forget things. (Names, places, history, how to do things, what they were doing, etc.)

(Life) every living thing becomes sterile (animals are unable to have children / plants cant produce seeds)

(Nature) microorganisms reproduce at an accelerated rate & every other living thing gets wiped out

(Nature) plants and animals become withered anemic versions of themselves

(Nature) plants and animals begin to die off (decay / rot / slowly crumble to dust / slowly turn to ash)

(Nature) plants and animals begin to mutate into monstrous versions of themselves

(Nature) plants experience explosive growth and begin to take over everything

(War) People begin to become more violent and warlike.

(War) People begin to become too apathetic to fight each other. Eventually, people become too apathetic to do much of anything. They just stand around in a daze until the die of starvation or thirst.

(Any) All clerics suddenly overload on divine power (as if the gods power has been divided between them). And they all start to slowly go mad, and start to lose control.

(Light) a massive and well known constellation vanishes and leaves a dark patch right in the middle of the night sky

(War) A vanquished war-god drops his enormous miles-long sword, which falls to Earth and pierces deep into the planet’s mantle

(Death) The god’s followers begin killing at random, hoping the power of their faith will resurrect him

(Light) Random people all over the realm begin to go blind

(Tempest) A whirling hurricane forms in the middle of the Ocean… and doesn’t stop growing

(Forge) The followers of this deceased god begin a pilgrimage to destroy every craft ever created and stamped with his symbol

(Arcana) The god’s death leaves a hole in the weave. Something… unwanted fills in the gap with Its body.

(Nature) The wood of the deity’s patron plant (oak) begins to disintegrate into dust all over the world. Buildings topple.

(Life) This god’s followers have a crisis at the oxymoron of their god dying. They are slowly driven insane

(Grave) The god itself rises as an undead, an anathema to its own mission

(Arcana) People start forgetting spells. (As a spell is cast, roll to see if that is the last time it is cast)

(Arcana) Everyone gains a cantrip. Now this minor power is just something everyone does, like breathing or eating.

(Any) Suddenly there is a war in the cosmos. Minor deities, greatly powerful beings like Warlock Patrons, and other generally unknown greater powers are vying for the position.

(Any) Upon the god’s death, their body is split into thousands and thousands of pieces. These rain down like meteorites but instead of being falling rock bits, it’s a new people recently awoken. Who are these newcomers and what is their memory of or connection to this lost god?

(Tempest) Ocean currents fluctuate wildly

(Earth) Widespread tremors and volcanic activity

(Tempest) Unpredictable squalls

(Light) Continuous winter sets in

(Order) Ubiquitous revolutionary sentiment arises

(Music) Instruments quickly go out of tune, and singers forget words and have their voices crack more often

(Magic) All casters and magic items are treated as one level lower

(Nature) Animals behave erratically and crops fail

(Fate) Prominent heroes begin to meet ignominious ends

(Luck) Coin tosses and dice rolls result in predictable patterns (Heads tails, heads, tails/1,2,3,4,5,6,1 etc.)

(Luck) Randomness begins to fade. The first to go are critical successes and critical fails, but very rapidly all rolls end up as 10.5’s.

(Any) Their power returns to its source where anyone could take it for themselves

(Any) When trees and plants are cut down, instead of sap, blood starts to weep from the cuts.

(Winter) Animals that hibernate don’t wake. Plants and trees stay in their winter state. Even if the weather gets warmer things affected by season act like it never ended.

(Knowledge) every creature’s INT ticks down steadily as their memories slowly disappear until all life is reduced to animalistic intelligence.

(Death) no one can die anymore. HP can’t be dropped below 0 and no one can die of old age, accumulating age bonuses and penalties until all physical stats are reduced to 0.

(Light/sun) the sun and stars go out. The temperature continuously drops until the entire world is frozen over.

(Magic) all spells, enchantments, supernatural and spell-like abilities, etc. get progressively weaker until the entire world is basically in a null-magic zone.

(Nature) plants and animals become incapable of reproducing.

(Life) healing magic no longer works. Natural healing progressively weakens until it too is no longer possible.

(Trickery) it becomes impossible for anyone to lie or mislead

(Forge) a small mountain range of metals and the occasional gem crashes into the planet in 3… 2… 1…

(Knowledge) everyone receives random revelations rather simultaneously.

(Trickery) some guy shows up three days later, wondering what all the hubbub’s about.

(Life) Every wound healed by their clerics starts to rot, and everyone reanimated becomes undead.

(Trickery) Their holy texts go blank, holy symbols turn to dust, and all knowledge of the god is ripped from mortal minds, the god is dead and forgotten in all ways. While most people feel like they’ve forgotten something, the most devout worshippers to the lost god go mad from the hole in their mind and soul.

(Trickery) The gods secrets are spread throughout the world, the common-folk learn of their rulers corruption, people discover their spouses cheating, children learn their beloved dog didn’t go to a farm, all secrets good and bad are made known and will rip families, kingdoms, and even other faiths apart.

(Any) A shockwave of power blasts through the realms, knocking everything unconscious for d10 hours

(Arcana) Spellcasters and magic items begin to “glitch”, causing them to either be completely unable to cast spells/activate items or the spells go wild.

(Any) People and clerics begin to notice that something is…missing…

(Nature) Many two headed animals are born the following day.

(Any) The god(s) start to slip away out of people’s mind, and they start questioning if they were ever thing to begin with.

[tintentrinkerin]

Harness & Spears

Chapter 5: Father’s Eyes

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Researching for a case a year after they quit first feels weird to Sam, he has to get used to all the programs, his usual agenda. Today it’s so much easier with some computer skills. No more libraries, no more grainy scans of articles in local papers. Today, you just have to open a search engine app on your phone or a computer and you will be able to find dozens of cases in an hour or two. Of course, there’s still the work of sorting the wheat from the chaff, but Jack is a big help. They sit in the library together and go search for cases. Cas is really sweet to them, just like a butler he offers hot beverages and sandwiches, even though Sam must really hold him back to go full on “Yes, sir”. They want a case, and there are hundreds of them, but also, after Jack became God he brought all the hunters back that Chuck had banished. Donna and Jody, a couple now, as they announced just months after Jack’s ascend, and her girls, all in the hunter business. They heard from Eileen sporadically, but after all that happened and how uneasy Sam felt about the whole manipulation (and he was absolutely certain Chuck pulled the strings there, even though, when they originally met, Sam was drawn to her - but nothing more), she kept her distance and operated in Ireland and also all over Europe. The hunters from the other universe also just hunted in small groups. Charlie and her girlfriend retired for good. And Sam was still bitter about his own behaviour - projecting ‘his’ Charlie on this woman, who was so much different. He knew she hacked some computers every now and then to prank some potential Dicks. Sam was connected to the hunters, most of them. He has been clear about him and Dean, Cas (and later Jack) not going hunting anymore. But now things changed and Sam needed to check if any other hunters were on the cases him and Jack might find interesting. Running in another couple of hunting buddies is not a problem on a personal level, but the mutual sabotage will happen. It’s Murphy’s Law. That’s why Sam has a plan. They will take cases other hunters wouldn’t like to do. There are several reasons for hunting in the first place and reasons which cases to pursue and which not. Let noble monster hunting and cleansing the world be some hunter’s motivation, revenge, the thrill (some people really were that sick and hunted monsters for the kicks) and of course. The money. Oh yes, the money. But the Winchester conglomerate doesn’t worry about money, that’s why Sam won’t look for cases that have to do with wealthy people or towns announcing rewards. Also, when he knew the kind of monster and that a lot of hunters were after these creatures for killing their kin or loved ones, he better didn’t interfere. You could hunt monsters for their venom or psychic abilities, their blessings or whatever. Something a friend of Dean did not so long ago and got himself killed for it.

It shouldn’t be anything exotic, the New Age brought new monsters, at least that’s what Jack says.

“I was God, yes, and I knew everything that Chuck knew, but believe it or not, not even Chuck knew all of his creatures. His mind is packed with the stuff he wanted to do or not to do - if you ask me he was a little like George R. R. Martin. Got lost in his own massive universe and all the detail. I tried to give all of it structure, that’s why some things on Earth changed, but after some time I thought my head would explode and I uh, outsourced some good stuff in new universes. Amara is way better in doing all of that, she created way more universes and new forms of life as I did. She and her brother - don’t get me started.”

Jack looks exhausted. “Does it sound weird, Sam? That I wanted to be down here with you, all of you, but especially you, and give Amara all that power?”

Sam smiles about Jack’s outbreak and that he obviously read Game of Thrones. “No, it’s not weird. You were with Amara and I bet she’s very pleasant company but she wasn’t what you longed for. You didn’t want to be God who’s in every drop of rain, and all that. It was noble and pure hearted and generous of you to try, but you were allowed to fail. But, speaking of Game of Thrones, I have a few questions regarding--”

Sam is rudely interrupted in his chatter with Jack when Dean comes into the library and sits down two chairs away from Jack. Jack immediately gets up.

“Uh, Sam, I will -errm, go pack my bags. I think you will find a good case.”

Sam sighs.

“I’ll be with you soon, baby. Just gimme a minute.”

Jack is quick as a flash and out of sight within seconds.

Dean scoffs while thudding his mug on the table. Coffee pours out and stains the wood.

“Easy on the furniture Dean, it’s not your enemy”, Sam says without looking up. He can’t show Dean his face right now or he will just erupt. He feels the heat in his cheeks and a hot tickle up his neck. Since Dean threw a mug after Sam yesterday they haven’t seen each other and to be frank, Sam could totally renounce any other encounter with Dean for a while. Plus, Sam has a hickey, because Jack went a little passionate, clingy and possessive last night, for whatever reason.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you and… baby. ” The last word is like venom. As always. Dean wants to start another fight.

“I remember that I heard you calling Cas ‘daddy’ multiple times. You think that was really soothing for my wild imagination?”

“You call Jack what he is. A baby.”

“Another word, Dean, and you know I’ll knock you out. I have enough of your bullshit. You act like a jealous housewife. No, wait, more like a cuck!”

Dean scoffs and leaves.

“Do whatever you want, but don’t do it when I’m around or I’ll tear him apart.”

Sam sits here in shock. He has heard a lot from Dean about Jack, he has always been nasty to him and yes, even threatened to kill him twice, even was willing to execute him as part of Chuck’s evil plan. Yes, he was bitter about Mary and hell, how bitter Dean has been as Jack brought so many people back. All the ‘others’: Bobby and Charlie with her girlfriend. All these people. He brought Eileen back, and Dean thought it was to make Sam happy (and yes, that has been Jack’s intention, but ultimately it didn’t) and he was resistant to the arguments, that Mary was happy with John, she didn’t want to go back in this world she never felt like she fit in. He couldn’t be comforted by the messages Jack as a medium brought to Dean, that Mary loved him no matter what and that she will be happy when they meet again. Nothing could’ve soothed Dean’s aching. Sam understands that he’s hurt, but now, it just feels like Dean is angry at Jack for simply existing and then being so bold to love Sam.

Jack brought Cas back for Dean. He had risked a feud with the Empty that could only be avoided by Amara and Jack forcefully put the Regent of the Empty asleep. The Empty wasn’t sealed though, Rowena still reigned in hell, and still demons went to the Empty. But there are no angels on Earth anymore, Jack has naphil powers and even Cas regained some faint strength back, but Jack didn’t make new angels.

Jack really built a world in which it was possible for Dean and Cas to be together, he risked being invaded and maybe killed, since no one knows how really powerful the Empty was.

Why is nothing Jack does, no matter how universe shattering, unbelievably cosmic and holy and insane it is, not finally letting Dean the old grudge go?

It seems like everything he does just makes it worse.

Sam hides his face and in the safety of his own palms he allows to cry in fear for his own spiteful brother and soulmate. This will end badly if they don’t find a way to reconcile.

“You have to stop that, Dean” Cas says when Dean is back in the Deancave.

Cas is in his robe, nothing beneath. He looks pale and a little skinny. The last weeks have been hard on him and Dean knows it’s his fault. He makes his angel boyfriend sick. And yet he’s sick himself, and he’s kicking and fighting, with talons and teeth, words and throwing things after his brother. Also, he erupts the second Cas dares to mention it.

“Stop with what?”, he asks.

He picks the remote and wants to turn on the TV, loud metal music blasting but with a snap of a finger, the TV silent and it won’t turn back on.

“Castiel. Don’t fuck with me, I swear, I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re ‘not in the mood’ for weeks, maybe months. Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Why won’t you let me help?”

Dean’s eyes narrow dangerously as he faces the seraph.

“Help? How could you help? My brother fucks a toddler.”

Cas sighs and it sounds so endlessly sad. Defeated. Dean doesn’t want to see it, acknowledge it, that he is indeed very wrong. Jack is no toddler, Jack is no brat, Jack is so mighty he could really smite the whole bunker with a hiccup still, even though he’s not God anymore. Dean should be so damn careful. Dean should see how much Jack begs for his forgiveness and his approval.

But Dean can’t. And Dean won’t.

“Dean.”

Dean is so full of sorrow and fear, it hurts to hear his own name so gentle, so loving yet somehow fatherly. Cas loves him and Dean should be happy. He has been happy. The Empty had taken him away and Jack had fought to get him back. So they could be a family.

But this isn’t family to Dean. He’s around the person he loves the most, the person he loves with a burning, blinding insanity. He will never be happy like this.

Cas dares to come closer, around two steps away, offers Dean a hand. Dean can’t even look at him but he takes Cas’s hand and then pulls him in a desperate embrace.

“Shit, ‘m sorry, Cas. I don’t want to fight with you.”

It’s been a while, actually the last time Dean slept with Cas was the night when Jack asked him if Sam gay. This question is carved under his skin and if you look closely, you can see them shine through like thin red scars.

The streak won’t break today either.

“Will he ever stop hating me?”, Jack asks.

He has his suitcase packed, same as a backpack with snacks, water, headphones, his teddy Marvelous Marvin, a powerbank and, something he’s very proud of - his own angel blade. The only angels on earth are Jack and Castiel but the blade kills monsters just as well. He kneads the bundle of the purple blanket in his lap when he looks up to Sam.

Sam’s still tense from before, his eyes red and narrow, Sam must look like he didn’t sleep much or has been on a bender.

“I don’t know… I wish I knew what’s wrong with him.”

With a deep sigh Sam sinks beside Jack on the mattress. The bed creaks and a spring nudges in Sam’s butt cheek. Either they need a new mattress or they move in a room together, but Sam doesn’t dare to talk about these things yet. So far, he’s happy about the privacy. But he’s also constantly longing for Jack - a stalemate.

Jack leans against Sam’s shoulder and shyly feels for Sam’s hand. Sam is too glad to take it, intertwine their fingers and kiss Jack’s knuckles.

“It makes me sick, Sam. I’m afraid all the time he’s around. I’m afraid he might want to…”

“Hurt you?”

Jack nods, his lips a thin line.

“I won’t let him. And most of all, you won’t let him. Right?”

Another silent nod.

“Don’t worry about it now, our bags are packed and I found a case. I told you about the parameters I used to find a case no one else would investigate, and this one here is especially weird, but not weird enough for us to follow, and a bit boring, but not boring enough for us to NOT follow it. We’ve been to haunted houses before, right?”

“Yes, it’s mostly vengeful spirits or poltergeists, right?”

Sam nods. “Yes, exactly. Sometimes triggered by the plans of tearing the house down, the same can happen with big bodies of water, when they are threatened to be dried out, spirits of people who drowned will start going on a rampage. Haunted houses are like level 1 of every hunter. Rocksalt, shotgun, holy water, fire. Boom, ghost gone.”

Jack frowns a little. “Really, we’re going on a case that any newbie hunter could solve?”

Sam chuckles.

“Yep.”

It’s absolutely a thinly veiled reason to go on a hunt, but it’s the same that Dean and Cas did weeks ago when Jack sneaked out. In the end they also ‘just’ took on a vampire nest with five vamps and their Creator and the rest of the time they had a blast in Vegas, why should Sam not do the same? He wants to be alone with Jack, because Dean definitely ruined the pleasant experience of the tantra massage. Sam had been so happy back then and oh, crap, he was close to do more to Jack than just the massage. He wouldn’t have slept with him on this massage table, that was utterly uncomfortable, but he had been turned on so bad, that didn’t happen very often.

Sam really falls for Jack deeply and seriously. It’s a wonderful and frightening feeling at the same time.

Jack slides on Sam’s lap and straddles him, arms tight around his neck. Jack squints a little when he’s so close, his big blue eyes will never cease to amaze Sam.

“How can you not be Castiel’s son?”, Sam blurts, his hands cupping the naphil’s face and brushing away some strands of hair.

Jack’s mouth opens slightly, his tongue sneaks out to lick his upper lip.

“I am Castiel’s son.”

“I know, I just mean, genetically. You have his eyes. Does that sound stupid, baby?”

Jack shakes his head with a grin, his neck and face turn tenderly pink.

How did the biggest monster of all create this perfect boy?

“No, not stupid. I like the way you look at me”, Jack silently admits and the blush turns berry red.

“How do I look at you?”

Sam kisses Jack’s parted lips, feels the hitched breath and how Jack tightens up his back.

“First you looked at me with fear, when I was born. Then you looked at me in sympathy, in worry… Then gentle, loving. Just now, longing… You see a man, not a child, right? That’s the look in your face how you look at someone beautiful you want to be with…?”

Sam’s big hands creep under Jack’s pullover and Jack sighs, a light shudder down his spine and this tiny, quiet noise of content.

“You are beautiful, and yes, I want to be with you. All the time”, Sam whispers, he sounds rough, feels like he needs to clear his throat.

Jack lays his hands on Sam’s and guides him down his sweatpants. Sam squeezes. A slight gasp.

“We will have a lot of time for fun stuff once we’re out of here.”

That makes Jack jerk up, jump and drag Sam on his feet.

“Come, Sam! I can’t wait to be out of here.”

[muertawrites]

Two Halves - Chapter Ten (Zuko x Reader)

Part Nine

Word Count: 2,750

Author’s Note: We’ve had enough sad. Like, in general. So I wrote some happy for this week’s update. This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I decided to save the rest of it for next week since it ended pretty nicely where it is.

I feel like now is a good time to mention that I haven’t read the comics (I didn’t even know there were comics until like two months ago) so if you’ve been wondering why this story diverges so much from them, that’s why. I see the canon and I think it’s great, but it’s just so much more fun to write my own interpretations of what happened to everybody after the war. Sorry not sorry. 

I’m slowly getting back into the swing of things. I felt pretty okay yesterday, and I’m starting to not immediately hate everything I produce and am remembering how to talk myself up again after forgetting that anxiety and depression don’t rule my thoughts when it comes to my creativity. Things are still gonna be weird for a while, but we’ll be fine eventually. That’s how the human condition is - we always swing back at some point. 

~ Muerta

“What do you know about Fire Nation prisons?” 

You expect Rina to falter at the question. She doesn't even flinch, continuing to dress you as if you asked her what she’d had for breakfast. 

“What do you want to know?” she wonders in return. 

You gaze off, allowing your mind to roam as you consider her question. 

Since your return to the Fire Nation, Zuko’s attentive attitude hasn't changed, and your fondness for him has grown in ways you never expected it would. During council meetings, it’s become a habit to hold his hand under the table where your advisors can't see (though Yong has caught you once or twice, smirking as if you were two school children passing love notes during class). You spend more time together in the evenings before bed, and some nights you invite Zuko to sleep beside you, missing his presence since returning to separate rooms - he’s always gone before sunrise to discourage any scandal (despite the fact that you're married), never leaving without a kiss to your forehead and a murmur of, “See you soon.” It’s also become routine to meet him by the turtle duck pond when you each have a moment to spare, the little creatures getting so used to your presence that many of them freely approach you, pecking at your palms in the chance you have a treat for them. 

“My mother and I used to do this,” Zuko confides during one of your breaks; it's the first cool afternoon since the beginning of summer, a few leaves from the overhanging maple tree floating on the pond’s placid surface. “I remember throwing a rock at one of the ducklings when I was a kid. Its mother bit me.” 

You giggle, opening your hand so a young male can nibble at the apple peel you hold out to him; you attempt to scratch his head while he eats, and he squawks at you. 

“Good for her,” you jeer. “Serves you right for being a dick.” 

Zuko chuckles, the curl of his lips framing a hazy sadness in his eyes. 

“Azula did stuff like that all the time,” he sighs. “I always felt… bad. Our mother knew what she was when she was really young. I was the one who got all her kindness. Sometimes… I think it's my fault Azula ended up the way she did.” 

“It isn't,” you assure him. You tuck your hand into his. “Your parents played favorites. It wasn't fair.”

Zuko hums absently, his gaze drawn out across the courtyard. After a moment, he’s pulled back to you, a playful grin tugging at his mouth.

“You remind me of a turtle duck,” he states. “You look harmless. You're cute. But you could really fuck someone up if they provoked you.” 

You laugh, slipping your hand from his to teasingly shove his shoulder; the turtle ducks around you scatter as he mirrors your reaction, doing little to defend himself against your loving attack. 

“Did you just call me ‘cute’?” you tease, reaching to pinch at his cheek - he grimaces, taking your hand away from his face by recapturing it in his. “Are you going soft on me, Hothead?” 

He chuckles, mirthfully flicking an apple peel into your hair. You notice the blush that colors his neck, unable to deny your own.

“Oh, Turtleduck,” he says with mock pity. “Is Sokka so bad at flirting that you never learned to pick up on it?” 

He's used his new pet name for you almost every day since he coined it; every time he does, your heart soars out of your throat and into the clouds. 

Through your bedroom window, you can see Zuko on the porch behind your chambers, leaned casually against the railing as he chats with Aang. 

Aang says something that makes the older man laugh; your innards seem to melt as the lines around the corners of Zuko’s eyes and lips wrinkle like folds in a bedsheet. Something in the scene riles you - you’ll slit a hundred men’s throats to protect that smile and the feeling it gives you. 

“This is about Azula,” Rina observes. 

One thing you've learned in your short time with her is that you can't keep secrets from her - chances are she already knows all of them. 

“I just want to know what her living situation is like,” you tell her, “how powerful she could actually be from inside a prison cell.” 

“You have a merciful husband,” Rina sighs, somewhat dreamily . “Azula doesn't live in a prison; he put her in a compound in the Si Wong desert. She's heavily guarded and follows strict schedules and rules, but he didn't want her to live the rest of her life in a cage.” 

“What about Ozai?” you ask. 

“He’s in a prison. I said your husband was merciful, not that he doesn't hold a grudge.” 

You smirk, momentarily eased from the worry that strains your mind. 

“Do either of them have access to the outside world?” you press. 

Rina shakes her head. 

“Azula has very little; the last she heard of anything outside the compound was your marriage announcement. Ozai has absolutely none. All the guards that keep both of them are from the unoccupied Earth Kingdom, so they have no allegiance to them, and only a select few guards are allowed to speak to Azula.” 

“So… there's no way they could be the masterminds of any of this?” 

Rina lifts her gaze from the sash she cinches at your waist, her dark, round eyes meeting yours; her expression is blank, but she speaks in a determined hush. 

“I can't say for certain. But Azula’s intelligence is violent and cunning; she sees things from a different perspective that isn't entirely human. She has insights that more empathetic people would never consider.” 

You nod slowly, understanding. 

“I'll talk to Aang.”

Katara arrives from the Southern Tribe a few hours before the banquet you're hosting in Aang’s honor is scheduled to begin. You accompany her husband and yours to the imperial docks, a massive grin breaking across your cheeks the moment you spot her on the ship’s deck; she sends you a large, sweeping wave, catching you in her arms as soon as she's close enough to do so. 

“I'm so glad you're okay,” she cries into your ear. “How do you feel?” 

You nod, holding her by the waist as she pulls away. Her grip doesn't loosen, her arms still coiled around yours in an affectionate embrace. 

“I'm good,” you assure her. “I'm tough.” 

She smiles, pulling you in to kiss your cheek before turning to Zuko, greeting him with a warm hug. When she reaches Aang, her gestures are much slower, more tender. He takes her chin between two fingers and kisses her gently, his other hand positioned low on her waist as it presses her tightly against him; the action is so out of character for the two - typically so lively and averse to such kinds of public affection - that you and Zuko share an instinctive, curious glance. 

“Did we forget their anniversary or something?” you whisper, fear jolting through you when a look of panic crosses his features. 

“... I don't think so,” he says after a pause. “Maybe… he just missed her?” 

The confusion on his face is endearing - he's more emotionally intelligent than most people, but he's the last person who knows it. 

“Could be,” you agree. “This is the longest they've been apart in years.” 

The two of you watch as Aang assists Katara into Appa’s saddle, another strange behavior considering how used to flying Katara is. Neither of them seem to notice your staring, Aang leaning in for another lingering kiss before taking his place at the reins.

You return to the palace and are met with commotion, servants and high-level diplomats scrambling this way and that in a flustered frenzy. Everyone immediately alerts, prepared for yet another catastrophe. 

“What's going on?” Zuko demands as Rina approaches you; she doesn't hide her sneer at his brash tone, and you smirk as he apologetically shrinks back. 

“You have visitors, come to give their congratulations for your marriage,” Rina explains. 

“Who?” Zuko wonders. 

“Sun Warriors. They're waiting for you in the throne room.” 

Zuko and Aang exchange a look of shock. As you're ushered through the halls of the administrative wing and into the throne room, you take Aang by the arm, pulling him close so you can whisper to him. 

“Who are the Sun Warriors?” you ask. 

“They were the first fire benders,” Aang tells you. “They were supposedly wiped out, but Zuko and I met them when we visited their island at the beginning of my fire bending training. Their existence is supposed to be a secret.” 

“Then why would they come here?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine.” 

The throne room is silent - empty save for your entourage and guests - but a constant, electric buzz seems to hang in the air. Zuko falls into step beside you, taking your arm in his as you approach the group of visitors gathered before the throne; their clothing suggests Fire Nation, but from a different world, ancient to the point of almost primal. Each person present is decorated in baroque jewelry, glimmering gold and laced with vibrantly colored beads placed in intricate, deliberate patterns. Their faces are painted in stark lines of red and white, some across their noses and cheeks and under their eyes, others over their chins and foreheads; the makeup is so similar to Water Tribe markings that your eyes widen, unable to stop yourself from leaning in as you attempt to get a better look while also remaining dignified. The warriors are also much more robust than their mainland counterparts, with stocky builds and robust features - they remind you of your own people, leaving you in awe. 

“Chief Sunan,” Zuko addresses the leader of the group, bowing low as he speaks; you follow suit, leveling your gaze with the floor. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?” 

The chief smiles faintly, warmly at the two of you, bowing in return. 

“We are not so cut off from the outside world that we have not heard of your marriage,” he says. “News has traveled to us of the strength of your union, and the tenacity of your bride. As Firelord, you have protected us, and made strides to restore the ancient ways of the element - we have come to give you our thanks, and offer our blessings to the both of you.” 

Chief Sunan steps aside then, making way for a man and woman carrying a basket between them; they lower it at your feet, bowing as they step back to rejoin their people. 

“A gift,” the chief proclaims. His muted grin morphs into something more knowing, almost mirthful as he watches Zuko approach the offering. 

You rest a supportive hand on Zuko’s back as he leans forward, lifting the lid of the basket to reveal its contents; he raises a bundle of blankets from the vessel, his eyes growing wide as he peels the fabric back. 

Inside the package is a dragon, just small enough to be cradled in his arms. Its scales are a gorgeous crimson, glinting and shifting between hues of gold and turquoise in the light cast from Zuko’s bended fire that surrounds his empty throne. The little beast peers up at its new parent with amber eyes that mirror your husband’s. Zuko lets out an astonished breath, raising his gaze to meet Chief Sunan’s. 

“I can’t accept this,” he states, so quietly that only you and the chief can make out the words. 

“You must,” Chief Sunan counters, his smile never faltering. “The masters insisted.” 

Under your palm, you feel Zuko’s body tense. He nods, cautiously settling the tiny dragon into your arms; you hold the bundle tightly, reaching in to stroke gently at the baby’s nose. It purs appreciatively, and your heart swells. 

Zuko bows, lowering himself to the floor in the ultimate display of respect. 

“Thank you,” he says. “I vow to protect him with my life.” 

When he once again stands, he looks to Rina. 

“Accommodate them however they need,” he commands. “Send a group of our Kyoshi Warriors to the island to guard it from outsiders.” 

Rina nods, scurrying off immediately to delegate the tasks. Chief Sunan then approaches you, resting a hand on your shoulder; you meet his eyes with slight fear, but find only kindness looking back at you. 

“We are grateful our bloodlines will merge once again,” he tells you. “The origin of our people is a history that has been lost to time, long before the war was even a speck on the horizon. You see, the Sun Warriors are descendents of migrant peoples from the earliest ancestors of the Southern Water Tribe as well as the Fire Nation - what our mothers and fathers knew of water bending shaped our understanding of fire. Your union brings our people together once again, as they should be.” 

Zuko wraps an arm around your waist, proudly pulling you against his side. You draw in a shaky breath, leaning into him as you nod, tears pooling along the lines of your lower eyelids. 

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” you say. “I’ll do everything to make sure we regain our lost history. I promise.” 

Chief Sunan smiles temperately and nods, his fingers contracting around your shoulder in an appreciative grasp. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. “We are proud to call you our queen.” 

You invite the Warriors to stay for the night, Aang eagerly informing them of the banquet you have planned; by the time your reception of the unexpected visitors is finished, there's little more than an hour before it begins. 

Zuko brings your new ward back to your quarters, keeping him tucked protectively under his arms until you shut the sitting room door securely behind you. He then unravels the blankets the little creature is wrapped in, allowing him to explore his new home. 

“I thought dragons were extinct,” you marvel, watching as the fabled reptile twists and turns his body around every piece of furniture he encounters, inspecting everything he sees with humanlike interest. You smile, endeared by his wonder. 

“There are two still living,” Zuko explains. He kneels down beside the dragon, offering him a bit of a rice cracker from the box you keep in a side table for your nightly tea. “Three, now, I guess. The other two are the fire bending masters Aang and I had to seek approval from after I joined their team. Honestly, I thought they were both males.” 

“You must have made a good impression for them to trust you with their kid,” you remark, stifling a bit of laughter at his confession. “Maybe this’ll get Yong to stop bugging us about getting me knocked up.” 

Zuko chuckles, glancing up at you with an impish grin; the suggestive expression makes you blush, and you try to not admit to yourself that the excitement it sparks isn't unwelcome. 

The baby dragon lets out a mewling growl as he wraps himself around Zuko’s shoulders. He blows a minuscule jet of flame into the Firelord’s face, which Zuko mimics. You feel like squealing. 

“What should we call him?” you ask, lowering yourself onto the floor beside your husband. You hold a finger out to the dragon, which he curiously takes into one of his clawed hands. 

“Druk,” Zuko answers. “He looks like a Druk, doesn’t he?” 

You nod, your cheeks pinkened by the smile that’s plastered itself across your face; Zuko’s eyes meet yours with the same joyed expression. He maneuvers himself closer to you, resting his hand atop yours in your lap. As his fingers curl around your palm, you become achingly aware of just how near to you he is, and in a way that’s no longer friendly - the tension is heavier now, strained under the weight of a giddy, fluttering mania that leaves you dizzy. You don’t have to wonder if he feels the same. 

“Guess we’re parents now,” Zuko jokes, his voice barely above a breath. 

You giggle, taking the chance of leaning in to brush your lips to his. Your skin hardly touches; you’re too nervous to dive in and taste him, and for a moment after you pull away, you fear you may have imagined the glancing kiss. The fire that flares across Zuko’s cheeks tells you you didn’t. 

“Yeah,” you smirk, speaking in a murmur. “Guess we are.” 

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[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Chapter 17

Did I plan this? No. Did my hand slip and write this and SURPRISE ME? HELL YEAH. And @punkhorse96​ oh, I know, prestorm but the winds are picking up as that first twist in the clouds. But nothing pushes you to confront your feelings quite like having the object of your affections have a sudden change in health. 

Blood For Gold 

Chapter 17

“So what’s the plan tomorrow? More training?” Demsey guessed as you came back into the stables and he was in the extended stall with you and Heavencrest and Charlico, trying to figure out how to take Charlico’s saddle off as he watched what you were doing as he tried to imitate what you were doing since the saddles looked similar in most respects. 

“Tomorrow is the Kamo because Kamoba means “feast and fight” in marinai, so it’s a feasting day, you’re meant to rest, eat, and get all the jitters out of your system and drink until all the stress of the competition leaves you and everything you’ve pent up over the course of training is released so you go into the competition with a clear head, a clean conscience, so no grudges or misgivings, or malicious intent towards any of the other competitors or anything. You should still do the stretches but only one set of drills to make sure you remember them correctly but that is only after breakfast but after that, you’re meant to eat and rest basically and not do anything that could endanger your performance the next day, so don’t get drunk where you will feel hungover the next day, party and have a good time, but not party so hard or hurt yourself partying so that your performance is hindered, like spraining an ankle or throwing your back out of alignment. Then the night before the event, there is the choli- it’s where we take the leftover paint from all the training sessions and throw it at each other, like one big paint fight and then spend the rest of the night scrubbing ourselves clean, because the part of the Kamoba battle traditions before the battle can even take place is mixing the paints fresh that day to make sure that nothing dangerous is added to the paints, like powders that make the paint explode when they’re stuck.” You answered. 

“Oh gods, that’s been done before? To sabotage the paint?” Demsey asked. 

“Yup, several times throughout history. That’s why none of the competitors have anything to do with the paint mixture and a vast array of tests are performed on the paints and all the weapons to keep actual bloodshed from happening between the competitors and no one can sabotage the weapons either. But all the competitors are meant to stay together to make sure no one accepts a bribe for losing or winning or whatever and competitors are not allowed to publically bet either on themselves or each other just in case that should sway the betting rings, however they can send to a betting house, under an assumed name or pseudonym, their own private bets to who they think will win, and simply leave an address to where to send the money if they win. But again, that’s meant to be a secret that no one else is to know. But just between you and me, I always bet on my grandma, always, but all of that has to be done the day before the battle, because after midnight tomorrow night, that’s the cut off time.” You confided as you dropped your voice down to a whisper. 

“I see.” Demsey replied, keeping his voice down as well.

“Anyway, only the crowd is allowed to place their bets right before the battle and they only have their eyes, watching the final set of stretches and exercises to watch- to make such judgements before the battle. However, there is a private pool, or jackpot, or simply “pot” for short, that’s put together by all the competitors and tomorrow night, there will be a collection taken by the hosts, so Yalin should probably be the one to collect it and her and Gregori will keep it safe until there is a clear winner, usually you put in something that won’t hurt you to lose but that you don’t want to necessarily give it away for free, but you will be happy to get it back. I always put in something simple, like a small pocket knife or a piece of jewelry, or whatever, something that isn’t necessarily really that sentimental to me but has monetary value, enough that anyone would want to win it anyway, or you could just put in money, most men put in either money or daggers or watches or something like that if they are not moura themselves. But when you put it in, you’re supposed to announce what it is and what it’s worth and of course whoever puts in the least valuable thing, if you’re not the poorest of competitors and it’s not something you can afford to give then that’s seen as a sign that your whole heart won’t be in the battle, but if you put in the most expensive or the most important or the most coveted thing in there- that means that you will take everything personally, like it’s a personal attack rather than just a competition and again, you’ll be giving it more than all of your all and it would be too much of a temptation for you to try to cheat in some way so you wouldn’t chance losing that thing. Which is again, a red flag for the rest of us and it can be rejected by the group because you have to submit whatever it is to the group for it to be accepted, and if the whole group of competitors doesn’t trust that you either won’t play fair or won’t give it your all, you can be automatically rejected by the group, however there is one exception.” You explained as you held up a single finger. 

“Once you start fighting in Kamoba, that item that you put up, if you end up winning, you have to put up that same item over and over again until you either retire, or lose and the item is lost to someone else. My grandmother always puts in “the dagger”. Which has been put into every battle she has fought and she has only lost it twice but won it back in the next komoba battle she fought. The dagger itself, has been passed down in the family over generations and predates the current rules, the old rules were, you put in your favorite object into the pool. Which was the old rules fifty years ago. But my grandmother is unchanged, she will still put in the dagger and the dagger is priceless, because the Sultan who had it commissioned for his favorite wife, his kingdom no longer stands and the techniques used in it’s creation no longer exist, that’s how old and special this thing is. So she is the only one who puts in something priceless. But no one else. But her dagger alone is world renowned, like that dagger is in every portrait she has ever had done of herself. Like if she continued to be undefeated, she will probably be buried with that dagger.” You revealed.  

“Most mouras in Dorierra, have special daggers especially made just for the Kamoba battles, but they use it the day before to cut up their meat and eat with it to use it one last time before they would lose it. So as it stands, my grandmother has hundreds of thousands of daggers, but each one, she keeps in a special room with the name of who she defeated to gain it. Once she passes, she has instructed for it all to be displayed in a museum in Dorierra, along with her portraits as her legacy. And that dagger- comes with world class bragging rights. Honestly I have only held it once and it felt like I was holding the weapon of a god, like I had the power of multiple worlds in my hand and I was a mortal who had no business even looking at it and I was always too scared to even touch it after that because I think I was like, 11 or 12 when I got to hold it. My grandma claims that it is just a dagger, it’s just metal and precious stones and nothing more. But the illusion that it is more than what it seems, always tips things in her favor because I have seen competitors just take one look at it and get intimidated just from looking at the dagger and then completely lose their nerve when they face off against her. She can be really sweet out of the Kamoba arena. She turns into almost a literal viper in it though and she doesn’t hold back or pull her punches.” You warned him. 

“And what about you? What do you turn into?” Demsey asked thoughtfully. 

“My grandmother calls me The Turquoise Phoenix, because that is my favorite color and the color I always choose during the day battles to paint my weapons with. She says that I am like a phoenix because there have been several times where everyone thought I was beat for sure but I seemed to rise from my own ashes and win at the last moment.” You answered. “Also I always put a piece of turquoise jewelry into the pot, so if it’s turquoise, it’s most likely mine.” You shrugged as you managed to get the saddle off of Heavencrest and carry it over to the saddle stand as Demsey did the same, both of you walking side by side to where the saddles for the griffins were kept as Grevu was still in his tent and the end of the barn as he humphed sulking-ly at you once you came into view. 

“Oh I know! Axal didn’t go flying tonight so you had to stay here, I’m sorry, next time we go flying and Axal doesn’t go, I’ll ride you instead of Heavy, how’s that? I’m sorry you missed out.” You offered to Grevu as you came over to him after you put your saddle away and stroked his nose as he sniffed you and gently touched his nose to your lower abdomen and sniffed in deeply then cleaned his nose out, blowing snot onto your legs. 

“Do I need to change my underwear or what? You and Heavy keep sniffing me there, it’s making me self conscious, but thanks, apparently I needed dragon snot on my outfit, I’m happy you could provide that for me.” You sarcastically complained in almost a mocking thankful tone as you brought his nose up to your face before you kissed his nose and scratched under his chin and grinned when he churred happily and set his chin on your shoulder before moving his head around to where he wanted to be scratched, like around his horns. 

“Oooh, you poor Bay-bey, no one loves you, or gives you any attention, do they? No. You’re just so ignored and neglected.” You cooed to Grevu in your best cooing baby talk voice as Grevu narrowed his eyes at you before he blew his nose out at your face, covering your face and chest in little beads of blue dragon snot. 

“Thanks a lot Grevu, thanks, that’s all I needed to make my day complete, you fat rat with wings.” You thanked him as you unzipped your jacket to take the shirt you were wearing and tried to wipe off your face at least as you made a face at how disgusting it smelled.   

“Thanks, I’m gonna need another bath tonight, thanks for that. That’s gonna stick in my hair. I'm gonna have to wash my hair twice to get it out, at least, maybe three times.” You complained sarcastically. 

“You brat, you’re lucky you’re so cute.” You teased as you playfully batted his nose away before he actually coughed, but at Demsey before Demsey was covered in a giant blue lougie which made you erupt into laughter as you had dodged and missed most of it but Demsey hadn’t seen it coming and just barely had his eyes closed before he was completely plastered in dragon snot. 

“What did I do?!” Demsey asked as he just stood and looked at himself and tried not to gag as you laughed even harder. 

“This smells like rotten guts, what did you eat?” Demsey asked Grevu who did the dragon’s equivalent of laughing. 

“It smells like old...either a cow or old horse or old donkey or something like that, definitely something from a barnyard, and definitely guts.” You guessed as you urged Demsey away and out of the barn as he took big wide steps to try to let most of it, drip, slide and fall off of him before the rest of your family found you and started laughing just as the smell of whatever it was started affecting you and Demsey at about the same time and you both started gagging before you both threw up right there on the lawn which got everyone to stop laughing as Axal was sent for once you started throwing up in the last light of dusk and the grass turned from green- to purple which caused everyone alarm. 

“Oh no, send for a doctor. I know the rules of Kamoba means that none of the competitors can take anything to help them but clearly this is an exception right?” Axal asked his family who all readily agreed. 

“Get Dr. Wen Shi Chu, he’s my doctor, I only want him to treat me.” You insisted as you laid down in the grass and clutched your middle, the darkness of dusk still highlighting the fact that your vomit was turning the grass a dark indigo violet. But clearly you were much more affected than Demsey was, because once the dragon snot was washed away from him, thankfully he was in flying leathers so it wiped off, and once it was washed away, he was fine, but you seemed to be taking this much harder than he was and affected much more gravely as you continued to vomit, more and more indigo violet puke pouring out of you before your father picked you up and carried you to your rooms after others had tried to wipe the dragon snot off of you too. 

“Put me in a bathtub, I feel I’m going to be making a mess tonight.” You urged them as your mother helped strip you out of your flying leathers as you got into the tub but didn’t throw up any further, just laid in the fetal position and clutched your middle as you were instantly in agony. 

“Really? Right before a Kamoba battle you cough a loogie on Audra and Demsey and get them sick?” Axal asked his dragon as he waited for Dr. Wen Shi Chu to arrive as Grevu simply turned his back to Axal and farted in Axal’s direction before the smell made Axal start vomiting too. 

“Oh you fucking brat! Just because I didn’t take you flying, you throw a fit?!” Axal yelled reproachfully at Grevu between hurls himself as he made it back to the house before his other brothers noticed he was sick and helped him back to his own room just before Dr. Wen Shi Chu arrived as he was brought to your room first. 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“She and Duke Demsey Voyambi were petting Axal’s dragon Grevu after their evening ride, Grevu snorted snot on her and coughed up more snot on Demsey and made them both vomit and when Axal went to confront Grevu, Grevu apparently farted on him and made him sick as well.” Your mother told him. 

“Ah, temperamental dragons, what has the dragon been eating?” Dr. Wen Shi Chu, who simply went by Dr. Chu- asked. 

“You’d have to ask the stable hands.” Your mother answered. 

“For now, Lady Audra, drink this, it will settle your stomach and steady you.” Dr. Wen offered as he went into his case and took out a vial before you looked from it to your mothers and grandmothers.

“But what about the Kamoba rule of competitors not taking any medicine to improve their health?” You asked them. 

“This is obviously a special case, and does not apply, since three competitors have been affected and not just one.” Your grandmother, Loreiris insisted which your mothers readily nodded their agreement to that sentiment before you took the vial and drank it down. 

“It should help for now until I have further medication to combat exactly what the dragon ate.” Dr. Chu offered. 

“If such bodily functions from a dragon are inhaled or ingested, it can lead to intense sickness, depending on how much was ingested,” Dr. Chu offered to your family. 

“They all know about the mourkatili.” You informed Dr. Chu. 

“Ah then they will know that you will be the most affected by it and will need the most medicine to keep you stabilized.” He offered. 

“Of course.” Your mothers and grandmothers readily agreed before Dr. Wen went and attended to Axal and Demsey, who by now had seemed to recover and returned to the group, but both of them were most anxious to hear how you were faring.  

“Because Lady Audra has had mourkatili in her system, her body has been harmed, and because of this, she will need the most medicine and the most intensive care. I understand a Kamoba battle is to take place and she is a competitor, she may need to bow out of the competition.” Dr. Chu advised everyone. 

“If that is her choice. But I am perfectly fine with her taking any and all medicine to steady and fortify her and such medical intervention will be allowed and accepted if she is to compete or not, her health is of most importance, screw the Kamoba and it’s traditions right now.” Your grandmother, LoreIris insisted. 

“Agreed.” Everyone echoed. 

“Then take me to the dragon and bring me to who has been feeding him and I need to know all that the dragon has ingested and I will need to take samples of everything for testing.” Dr. Chu insisted before he was brought around and a light was brought out and when Dr. Chu saw the purple of the grass, he stopped everyone from moving or getting any closer.  

“Lady Audra is continuing to purge the mourkatili. You will note it by it’s sweet smell, like violets and it’s violet color, Grevu’s bodily fluids are trying to heal her and he may have tried to affect the other two to bring more attention to the matter, he may have sensed her sickness and is just trying to help, let no one or nothing touch the violet grass, it must be dug up and all the dirt a half a meter underneath it, must be dug up, all do this must wear protective gear and it all must be burned immediately. Or it will kill otherwise.” Dr. Chu advised before Gregori readily ordered for just such measures to be done and then some. 

“Ah, Great Grevu, I Dr. Wen Shi Chu bow in respect, I wish to examine you.” Dr. Chu bowed to Grevu as Grevu lifted his head and then got up and turned around to face Dr. Chu and then laid down to face Dr. Chu and bowed his head in turn. 

“Were you trying to heal Lady Audra?” Dr. Chu asked as Grevu nodded yes. 

“And did you try to bring attention to her sickness by affecting her brother and Duke Voyambi?” Dr. Chu asked as Grevu nodded yes again. 

“Very good! He needs to be rewarded, a fine bull this time, no more old and sick animals, for that is what has made them all sick. Many people forget that dragons need dragon fruit, dragon nut, dragon weed, dragon flower, dragon mushroom, and dragon herbs in their diet. All Grevu has had in his diet has been meat and whole, old animals, he needs variety to maintain a balanced diet. You are a royal family, you have all these things, yes?” Dr. Chu asked Yalin and Gregori. 

“Well, actually, no- because we’ve never had a dragon with us before so we don’t...have any of that. I don’t think.” Yalin confessed. 

“That is ok, I keep a greenhouse at my house, I grow such things, I will have them delivered as soon as possible, but for now, I will need to focus on Lady Audra and get her through the night, if she continues to vomit and give way to her digestive powers, she will be too sick for months to come, she can become dehydrated, and possibly die from such dehydration and will be unable to do anything and may fall back into a deep depression, all efforts and focus must be on her at this time.” Dr. Chu advised before he wrote down directions for his household and sent for his wife to bring the proper medicine before he returned to your room as others came and sat down all around you and silently prayed for your recovery. 

“Well this is one way to celebrate the start of the Kamo.” Benny tried to joke which got you to huff a laugh. 

“Yeah, this is the greatest one yet.” You sarcastically agreed as you laid in the tub in your night dress but nothing else as a blanket was brought and laid over you as well as a pillow so that you were at least comfortable before Dr. Chu’s wife came with the medicines her husband asked for as well as the plants needed as she soaked cloths in special tea made from dragon weed and dragon fruit and dragon flower and wrapped it around your wrists and hands, ankles and feet and head and chest. 

“Just like old times?” You tried to joke with her once she laid the last damp cloth on your forehead as she had you swish out the remaining mourkatili remaining in your mouth with special tea and dumped the light violet colored liquid down the toilet. 

“Yes, just like old times.” Lady Chu agreed before she had you drink the rest of the tea once she added some honey and mint to improve the taste and settle your stomach and once your nausea subsided you were picked up, out of the bathtub and laid in bed as Dr. Chu gave you some medicine for sleep. 

“Let her sleep as long as she needs, she will need at least ten hours of it, if not twelve, but no more than 14 or 15 because if she sleeps that long, she may end up going into a coma and it may be a few weeks before we can wake her up again but the chances of that happening are very small, one in...one in like a hundred so small chance but still a chance. Now the chances of her waking up in just 9 to 11 hours is very high, like 90 in 100 chances, there can’t be that much mourkatili left in her system now. But when she wakes up, give her anything she is hungry for, her body will know what it needs. If she is to purge again in the morning, have her drink this and she knows how to make this tea and this tonic, simply add the powdered tonic to hot water and the tea into a clean teapot full of hot water also, to steep for several minutes, have her drink the tonic first and the tea second and she should be fine, for now, let her rest in peace.” Dr. Chu prescribed. 

“I will stay with her.” Almost everyone insisted in unison. 

“No, only one or two, no more, for her sake.” Lady Chu answered. 

“I am her mother, I will stay.” Your mother Jodhaa, decided. 

“And I am her twin, I will stay too.” Axal insisted. 

“Dem...Demsey, how is Demsey?” You asked as you fought to hang onto consciousness as your eyes tried to close as you felt them trying to cement themselves closed as you barely had the strength to roll your head from side to side, but otherwise it felt like your body was made of lead and sleep was dragging you down like a stone in the ocean. 

“He is already recovered, I attended to him myself, he is orc, very strong young man, not nearly as affected as you, Grevu gave you the blue healing snot to purge your system of the rest of the mourkatili.” Dr. Chu reassured you. 

“Oh good, I was most..most worried...about him. Axal, don’t, don’t stay, Ramsey needs you, let, let Calla stay and mom, don’t stay, stay with dad, I’ll be fine. Trust Dr. Chu, he is the best doctor..in the world, him and his wife.” You whispered before you practically fell unconcious as everyone seemed to give each other a meaningful look and knowing grin as Dr. Chu and his wife beamed proud smiles as the others obeyed your wishes. 

“How long have you been treating my daughter?” Your mother Jodhaa asked Dr. Chu curiously as Calla left to get her night clothes to stay with you as the others saw Dr. Chu and his wife out as all of them tried giving something to Dr. Chu and his wife for their services to you. 

“Ah for about a year, she sought me out with the mourkatili, I have been treating her intensively ever since. The first six months after she became a widow, we had to wean her off the mourkatili so she would not become an addict and the cold cut off would not drive her to madness and then spend another three months purging her body, I thought we had gotten all we could, but obviously the dragon wanted the rest of it out. Whatever is left in her body should be purged from her body in the morning, it seems a dragon will see to it that it will be finished from where I started. I am most grateful to the dragon as all of you should be too. Dragons often get dismissed as only being animals by most these days instead of being revered like the little gods they are and believe themselves to be. He must have known for Audra to be at her full strength, she needed to purge the rest of it, today apparently. Dragons always choose auspicious times, for us in the moment it may seem inconvenient, but in hindsight, it will be the perfect timing. By tomorrow night, I feel safe in predicting she will be back to her old self, the self you all once knew.” Dr. Chu advised as everyone smiled and blew out their sighs of relief as soon word spread as Charlotte also secretly reported the new development to her grandmother who seemed relieved to hear it and offered her own private wishes and prayers for your recovery as Dr. Chu and his wife returned home. 

Demsey seemed relieved to hear the news but he was weary to believe such a thing, it seemed too good to be true as he laid in bed and wanted nothing more than to make sure you were ok as the overwhelming urge to protect you seemed to course through his viens as rest elluded him and panic gripped his soul as his better judgement told him that he needed to see you with his own eyes before got dressed at least in pants and found the secret passage to your room, but was surprised to see it was being guarded by Axal and Ramsey. 

“What are you doing here?” Ramsey asked Demsey. 

“I...I just wanted to see with my own eyes that Audra is ok.” Demsey confessed as Axal let a crooked grin hike up a corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah, sure, come on,” Axal invited as he let Demsey into the room as Calla sat up in bed at hearing the door open. 

“It’s just us, Demsey just wanted to make sure Audra was alight with his own eyes.” Axal said. 

“Yes, she’s sleeping very deeply. My brothers as well as Benny’s are guarding her door and the hallway to make sure no one comes in or out and I’m sure the rest of Audra’s brothers will be there in the secret passage sooner than later.” Calla revealed as she waived Demsey over to where you still sleeping like an angel there in the bed, your slow, steady, even breathing came through your nose. 

“Why the high security?” Demsey asked as he kneeled next to your bed and dared to pick up your hand and hold it, making sure it was still warm and still had life left in it and once he established the touch, the panic and anxiety in his own chest immediately melted away but is possessive protectiveness seemed to be stronger than ever as he didn’t want to leave your side now. 

“We wanted to make sure Audra and her medicine were kept safe from tampering with. But one of her last words as she held onto consciousness was concern for how you were faring.” Calla informed him as she tried to keep her scheming grin to herself but her and Axal still shared a meaningful look. 

“She’s...an angel.” Was all Demsey could bring himself to say before your other brothers knocked on the secret door and Demsey stood up but couldn’t bring himself to let go of your hand. 

“He just wanted to make sure she was ok.” Axal told his half brothers. 

“Good, We will be taking shifts all night to make sure she is ok and nothing is tampered with.” Ocerian insisted. 

“Ramsey and I will take the first shift.” Axal insisted. 

“Can I take part in the shifts?” Demsey asked hopefully, even though by now, he felt his feet practically plant themselves into the floor. 

“Can you stay up for the next three hours?” Axal asked. 

“No problem, I wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise.” Demsey insisted as he let go of your hand to get a chair and bring it to your bedside. 

“Then Ramsey and I will take the hallway.” Axal agreed before the rest of your brothers and half brothers decided on which shifts they wanted to take and shut the door before the same came to pass among Benny and Calla’s brothers in the hallway outside your bedroom door. 

“Demsey, a word of advice.” Calla said as she settled into the bed as Demsey once again picked up your hand to hold it reverently from his spot as he sat down and leaned his elbows on his knees to be as close to you as he could. 

“Starting now, do not continue to hide your attraction, affection or attachment to Audra. It is only because she expressed concern for you before she passed out that you were even let into the room because we all knew that Audra would find it comforting when she wakes up. Otherwise, you would have been sent away. It is not lost on anyone, and we all could see that the Dauphin and Dauphine were your only obstacles to her and our understanding of English customs culture, as limited as it is, was our only reason for not interfering either, and now that those have been removed. It is expected you respond in kind. Do not disappoint Audra, she deserves better than she has been getting. It is her own honor that has kept her away from you at the ball at Heavenfield because she believed you were already attached and whoever else has kept your heart and mind from her, you need to make the choice right here and now, who is more important, Audra or whoever else it is. Audra has already rid herself of any and all other obstacles and if she has to make it any clearer to you that she wants to be pursued by you, we are all going to think you were dropped on your head as a baby and are now retarded.” Calla insisted as Demsey nearly snorted snot onto you from snickering a laugh and had to use his free hand to cover up his nose and mouth to keep that from happening. 

“Message received loud and clear. I just didn’t want to come on too strongly or too quickly, because that’s what Ramsey had done at the ball and he obviously crashed and burned and I did not want to scare her off, so I thought a more subtle approach would be wise.” Demsey replied. 

“Well, yes, true as that may be. Enough of it. We’re all getting impatient. Audra included, but she has become too proper in the English sense to say anything but she is getting weary from restraining herself.” Calla revealed.    

“Well when she recovers from this, I will clear the air and set this matter straight with her and make my intentions known in the most clear, direct and forthcoming way possible.” Demsey pacified. 

“Oh just pin her up against a wall and kiss her, that’ll do you just fine.” Calla waived off as she turned and pillowed your head with her arm so she could feel if you would move as she cuddled into your side as Demsey huffed a laugh even though his smile was practically dreamy.  

“Oh you think I’m joking, I’m serious.” Calla insisted. 

“Oh no, I believe you.” Demsey reassured her. 

“If she wakes up and returns to her old self again, you may not recognize her though. But at the same time, she has been sorely missed, and we would all be happy to have the old Audra back, I wish you could have met her at her strongest. She was always a force to be reckoned with and always fun and delightful to be around and her energy was that of a child at the first snowfall, eager to leave the house to play in it. And she just radiated happiness and bright sunshine and it’s like her sunshine has been hidden behind a thick fog on a cloudy day this whole time, but tonight it felt like it was just about to lift, and then this happened, we will just have to wait and see.” Calla said sleepily before she seemed to fall asleep herself before Demsey brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it sweetly and noticed a blank journal and got up and got brought the little bedside table closer to himself and grabbed a pen and decided to write it all down, all of his feelings and his intent, all of it as he happily did this to keep himself awake as he could hear Axal and Ramsey continue to be intimate behind the hidden door which caused him to roll his eyes and shake his head but at the same time, he was relieved that Ramsey was the way he was so that he dismissed himself from you. 

“Word’s written down mean nothing without those same words said or those thoughts put into action.” Calla said from her place next to you in the bed, the scratching of the pen writing on the paper waking her up a few pages later as she didn’t even bother to open her eyes.   

“I know, go to sleep Calla.” Demsey answered as he already had to refill the reservoir of ink in the pen itself since he had already used up what was in it the first time. 

“That’s sister Calla to you.” Calla sassed with a smug grin and a dreamy smile of her own. 

“Of course, how could I make such a mistake, Sister.” Demsey retorted with a fond grin of his own before she seemed to settle back into sleep. 

The three hours practically flew by like the blink of an eye before Ocearian and Zax came for the second shift as Leumeni came inside the room and was pleasantly surprised to see Demsey in the room as Demsey had slid the notebook under your pillow right as he heard your other brothers in the secret hallway. 

“Here to take the second shift?” Demsey asked. 

“Yup.” Leumeni confirmed, rubbing what little sleep he had gotten from his eyes as Calla had woken up just a little to witness the change as Demsey left through the passage as Axal himself escorted Demsey back to his own room before going back Ramsey’s room where Octavia and Drina were already fast asleep in Ramsey’s bed as Ramsey happily got in and cuddled with Octavia to get some much needed sleep as Ramsey came in and did the same with Drina so that the guys framed the girls in the oversized bed. 

“And?” Leumeni asked Calla. 

“He spent practically the whole time writing Audra what was surely the longest and most wordy love letter ever.” Calla answered as she tried to fall back asleep. 

“Where is it? I would have thought such a thing would be draped over her like a blanket.” Leu noted as he sat down the chair that Demsey had vacated. 

“Knowing him? Under her pillow.” Calla said before she felt under the pillows and found the journal and moved it to be between her own and Audra’s to keep it protected from other prying eyes. 

“Oh how gentlemanly of him.” Leumeni chuckled. 

“Poor thing. I can’t imagine what kind of frustrations he has pent up.” Calla smiled as she settled back into a good sleeping position as Leumeni raspberried in a scoff. 

“I can’t imagine how full his balls must be, since childhood probably, he has to tuck them into his boots.” Leumeni teased, finally being free to make such candid and crude jokes which got Calla to snort a laugh. 

“I’m surprised yours aren’t dragging on the floor and will be until you can propose to Kiera and finally unload into her, poor thing will fill up like a balloon.” Calla tossed right back. 

“They’re about to be, but the wait will be worth it. She may live in a very strict “polished” society but she is the kind of rebellious wild thing underneath, I can’t wait to see her go practically feral.” Leumeni smiled fondly which got Calla to smile too.

“Heaven forbid she learn of your previous attachment to Audra, she might just go so feral, she’ll go full shield maiden. She’s the jealous type.” Calla murmured. 

“Yeah, I’d give everything for all those letters I wrote Audra to never see the light of day, honestly.” Leumeni confessed. 

“Well, nothing has been produced yet, and if they haven’t been given up yet, I doubt they ever will.” Calla speculated. 

“Gods I hope so.” Leumeni said as he changed how he was sitting in the chair to be more comfortable. 

“Good night Leu, watch over her medicine.” Calla instructed sleepily before she dozed off again. 

Come morning, after getting exactly 11 and a half hours of sleep, you were surprised to see your heir father in the room, half dozing off as he sat in the chair next to the bed. 

“Father?” You asked when you awoke and noticed Calla was practically drooling next to you as she continued to sleep herself.  

“Goodmorning Sweetheart. How do you feel?” He asked. 

“Uh, groggy, what are you doing here?” You asked him. 

“Watching over you, the whole, entire family as well as Calla and her brothers and Benny and her brothers took turns watching over you, to make sure you were not disturbed or that your medicine was not tampered with.” He answered. 

“We are in the Palace of Windsor, I doubt…” you began to voice before your heir father gave you a look. 

“Yeah, you’re right, better safe than sorry. Uh, can you, call for some hot water?” You requested. 

“Of course.” He agreed before he got up and went to the door and told his own sons the order as they readily left their post to deliver the message to the kitchens. 

“Everyone watched over me?” You asked. 

“Everyone, even the Voyambi’s got involved, I heard that Demsey took this spot on the first watch. Didn’t sleep a wink until Leumeni took his place.” Your heir father reported. 

“Even when he was affected…?” You asked. 

“You were the only one really affected, Demsey and Axal only threw up once and were much better after. But Dr. Chu, he came and told us that Grevu noticed you still had mourkatili in you and his spit spurned you to purge whatever was left in you out because he was able to imbue the spit with some kind of magic as only dragons still can I guess. That’s why the grass where you threw up in the yard turned violet. It was all dug up and burned just to be safe so that it wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Apparently this medicine will finish it for good.” Sylvar reported. 

“He affected Demsey and Axal to bring attention to it.” You realized as you laid back in bed and stretched but smiled fondly. 

“Why he would have chosen now of all times though, he could have done that when he first came.” You noted as you frowned in confusion. 

“Grevu probably had little opportunity, we haven’t been able to ride since they first came. 

“That is true, he must have sensed it that first time but waited until the next opportunity and last night was the first opportunity.” You realized. 

“I called him a bratty rat with wings for blowing snot on me.” You admitted. 

“Well he is that.” Sylvar nodded in agreement before there was a gentle knock on the door and a maid came in with a morning tea service but had not added the tea leaves to the hot water. 

“Thank you, please report to the household that I survived the night just fine and am obviously awake.” You told her. 

“Yes my Lady.” She curtsied and left the room as you turned and put your legs over the bed and began the preparations to the tea and the medicinal tonic left behind by Dr. Chu. 

“Your strength and resilience has never ceased to amaze me.” Your heir father praised you. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him graciously as your face fell. 

“Why does this displease you?” He asked. 

“Honestly, I’m tired of people telling me how strong I am, how resilient I am, how many hits I can take while still being able to survive the blows, each hit that didn’t kill me did not make me stronger, all it did was just hurt me more, nothing more than that, other than to make me bleed more. It would have been so much easier to give in and just let it kill me, at least I would have been dead and therefore numb to everyone’s disappointment.” You confessed plainly as you braced yourself for the tonic and blew on it to try to cool it down before grimacing as you drank it down before trying to chase it down by eating a scone. 

“You’re right. You can start now if you wish, bow out of the Kamoba battle and never get hit again.” Sylvar offered. 

“Now let’s not get crazy.” You put your hand up in a stopping motion. 

“But if memory serves me right, this tea will make my close proximity to a toilet most important and I want my privacy to bear that particular burden.” You offered as you then poured the now steeped tea out of the little tea pot and filled the same teacup you used for the tonic. 

“Of course.” He agreed before he got out of the chair and kissed the crown of your head before he saw himself out before the tea and the tonic seemed to have an immediate effect as you hastily got up and went to the toilet of the bathroom in your room and sat down and began to have a very intense bowel movement and what felt like your period, but it was in one solid chunk of blood, that bled purple into the water of the toilet bowl but after you passed it, you bled no further but at the same time, you were relieved and happy that because it bled no more and nothing purple was left in that part of your body, that your womb was now restored to you which made you smile in relief as a few grateful tears came to your eyes, before another bout of powerful bowel movements passed and you felt five stone lighter. 

“Wow, ok then,” you muttered as once you finished you quickly flushed it and went back to the bed and forced yourself to finish the tea before Calla stirred awake. 

“Good morning.” You greeted her. 

“Good morning.” She greeted you sleepily. 

“How do you feel?” She asked. 

“Well, I just had the dump like the orcs of old, when they used to crap out the tomb meat and the farway bread.” You answered her. 

“And was it violet?” She asked. 

“It sure was.” You confirmed. 

“Good. Oh there’s something, that once you return to yourself, read what is in the journal under your pillow. I think you’ll find it most interesting and exciting to read.” Calla insisted as she grasped the journal under your pillow and pushed it towards you. 

“It should be blank.” You frowned. 

“It is blank no more.” Calla smiled in delight before she got out of bed and put a robe on. 

“I”m glad you made it through, when you’re done crapping your guts out, come down to breakfast and get them refilled.” She urged you as you sat there and looked from her to the journal curiously.  

But just before you could try to open there was another knock on the door. And you quickly shoved it under your pillow again when your half sisters, your mothers and grandmothers were there, in their morning robes to check on you. 

“How are you feeling?” Your mother asked. 

“Uh, I’ve already drank the tonic and the tea, if you can have someone bring me a breakfast of just simple breads, butters, honey, maybe some eggs, maybe some sausage, but not anything really spicy, the tea is making my closeness to a toilet an absolute necessity until it can run through me.

“Ah, of course, of course,” they readily agreed before they hugged you before you had to interrupt them to run to the bathroom again. 

“Well, we should be letting her have her privacy.” Your mother urged them but stayed behind to watch over you herself. 

“Anyone else still in here?” You called out. 

“Just me Addie.” Your mother called to you. 

“Hey, I’m gonna be in here for a while, there’s a journal under my pillow, could you bring it to me so I’m not bored out of my mind?” You requested as curiosity was eating you to see who had written what in it. 

“Of course,” she readily agreed as she got it and came into the bathroom just as the last of the mourkatili left you as your hair made the most amazing transformation right before her eyes. Which made her drop the journal on the ground as she gasped and yelled before your other female family members came rushing back into the room and then the bathroom to where your mother was standing the doorway, frozen in shock. 

“Audra?!” They yelled. 

“What?” You asked your mother as they all came into the bathroom to see you sitting on the toilet as the change continued to take place in your hair as they all gasped as they stared at you in shock and awe.

“What? What is it?” You asked them before your half sister went and got a little mirror and brought it to you. 

You gasped in astonishment as you looked at yourself and touched your hair to look at how it was still transforming in front of your eyes. 

“Call for Dr. Chu!” You yelled at them before they practically tripped over each other trying to get out of there and out of the room quickly before Amara, Kiera and little Callie came rushing in the moment they left to still see you on the toilet, holding the mirror as you stared at your reflection before they saw you and gasped themselves. 

“Don’t say anything! Not to anyone! Especially to Demsey!” You pleaded. 

[jinkicake]

A Soul Precious To Me

Part one here

Shigaraki Tomura x Childhoodfriend!Reader

Shigaraki is interesting to write. I want to portray him one way but then I remember more aspects about his character and then I get lost in him. TTT Sigh, I still love him though, that is my mf baby!

WC- 1,677

~~~

Recently you haven’t been able to focus, you continue to stare blankly out the window of your calculus class and barley hear what the teacher is saying. At this moment you’re glad your university is located in such a tall building, it makes staring out the window much more interesting. Truthfully your world feels upside down, almost as if one of your best friends is one of the most wanted criminals in all of Japan and is responsible for the chaos and destruction claiming the streets.

Oh wait, he is.

You’re starting to regret going grocery shopping that afternoon you found him on the street, had that not have happened then you would have continued living on normally. Believing that your closest friend moved away and lost contact with you. That fantasy seems much better than the reality of it all. You run your mind time and time again but you just can’t seem to figure it out, how did the Shimura Tenko you know turn into the Shigaraki Tomura the world knows. It just doesn’t make sense given how light-hearted he was as a kid, you don’t know what could have provoked such a change in him. 

You even went as far as calling your mom and asking her if she knew anything about the Shimuras and she said she didn’t. It seemed suspicious though and you want to keep digging, however, the deeper you dig the farther down the hole you go.

“(L/N) can you please solve number three on the board?” The snotty professor calls out as she glares at you from behind her desk. You wince and pick up your notes before walking towards the front of the classroom. As you work on the problem and frantically look between your notes you fail to realize how quiet the classroom got. It’s not until you hear a loud scream from one of the girls in your class does all chaos break lose.

When you finally turn around to see what the class is freaking out about, you nearly pass out with them. Before you is a gigantic artificial-monster and you can only drop your notebook in shock when it breaks the glass of the classroom. Too fast, too quickly does it grab you, it’s large hand wraps around your waist before it leaps out of the building. Your life flashes before your eyes at the fifteen-story drop beneath you, and when you notice you’re still alive you slowly open your eyes. The thing is flying, high in the air and you can barely breathe. 

Your first thought is to break free of its clutches but as you stare down at the ground you can barely see, that becomes the worst idea yet. However before you can stop it your eyes flash a light blue and the villain freezes, his grip around your waist is still as tight as ever but now you’re free-falling several hundreds of feet in the air. The drop and the ground rushing towards you at an inhumane speed causes your vision to run astray. Black dots littering every corner of your vision until you can no longer see.

- - -

“Stupid girl, really how dumb are you?” Shigaraki lets out insult after insult at your unconscious body. He was watching the incident the whole time. Deep down he knew it was wrong to use a rogue nomu to bring you to him but he thought why not kill two birds with one stone. He wanted to see you again and he also had been meaning to test if kidnapping via nomu could work, it did. Thankfully with how strong the creature was it broke free from your quirk rather quickly and successfully brought you back to the hideout.

Shigaraki scratches at his neck painfully before scooping you up in his arms, placing his switch on top of you.

“Kurogiri I need to get to her apartment.”

- - -

When you finally regain consciousness the first thing you notice is that you’re back in your own bed. You almost think it was an insane nightmare but then you notice the temperamental boy on your couch cursing at his switch, red eyes glaring hard down at the screen.

“Stupid fucking Tom Nook and his stupid ass kids, buy my damn tarantulas.” Shigaraki glowers and you wince when you try to sit up in the bed. “Oh, you’re awake.” The villain doesn’t even glance over at you, his fingers still rapidly moving on the device console.  

“Tenko?” You place your hand against your temple, closing your eyes while trying to hold back from vomiting. “What happened?”

“You passed out.” He throws out and you can only blink at him, a wave of uneasiness washes over you.

“I don’t understand.” You can’t seem to figure out anything.

“What is there not to understand?” His voice rasps and you flinch at his tone.

“I was just in the air a few moments ago, I don’t,” You pause, biting the inside of your cheek. “why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you.” Shigaraki is so calm, only showing any emotions when he scowls at the device in his hands. You clench your fist at his lack of emotions because the fact that you had nearly died does not phase him.

“Why are you acting like I wasn’t just manhandled by a giant bird with its brains sticking out several hundred feet in the air?” You snap, frustration bubbling in your core, as you try to piece together what happened these last couple of hours.

“God, you’re so fucking whiny.” Shigaraki curses and you feel your eye twitch.

“Y-you can leave.” At this, he only rolls his eyes.

“No. I like being with you.” His shoulders are low and his fingers move furiously against the device and you’re sure one of the knobs is going to fly off.

“Tenko, listen-“

“My name isn’t Tenko.” Shigaraki glances at you and you nearly freeze under his intense stare. “For whatever reason, I feel…” His blue head dips as he tries to figure out his words carefully, his shoulders hunched in thought. “There is a deep understanding between us, isn’t there? History, I don’t remember any of it though.”

You furrow your eyebrows and stare down at your covers, a sudden weight sinking in your chest. The two of you were close when you were kids, you knew him for only a couple of years but were never apart for longer than two days. You don’t really remember much either but you understand the memories and affection you held for him. The trust developed between you two during your early developmental years are finally showing through.

“What happened to you when we were kids?” You cautiously push out, wanting to get an answer from him.

“I don’t have a good memory.” He only sinks further into the couch, as if he is trying to get away from your questioning.

“What about your mother, your sister, grandparents? You don’t remember them either?” You purposely leave out speaking about his father, still holding a grudge against the man for how he treated his family.

“No.” The one-word response makes you tense up instantly and Shigaraki puts down the switch before walking over to the edge of your bed. “Be quiet or I’ll make you quiet. I like having you near me, having you around, it brings me comfort.” He stares down at you and you pull the blanket up to your chin in an effort to hide under his gaze. “And what I want, I get.” He growls and grabs a handful of your blanket, a yelp leaves your throat as the thick material starts to disintegrate and you’re left with a thin sheet laying over you.

“O-okay, we can still be friends.” You offer, eyes blown wide as you stare up at him but this only sparks another tantrum.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” The sheet is next to go and you flinch when he kneels on your mattress. “Don’t be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared.” You lie, your hands visibly shaking on either side of you.

“Good, because I don’t want you scared. You are mine.” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the statement and you can’t help but refuse his advancements.

“Tenko,” Your eyes dart all around the room, trying to find a response to his words. “it’s been like fifteen years are we really even friends? I know Tenko Shimura, not you.”

“I think you misunderstood me.” A hand wraps itself in your hair threateningly, pulling your head back and presenting your neck up into the air, you try to ignore the way his eyes memorize the sight of your chest rising and falling.

“I’m just saying we should take it slow, you don’t remember things and I don’t remember things.” You laugh nervously as if his hand isn’t close enough to your neck that he could kill you any second. “We can get to know each other again.” Rather idiotically you gently rest one of your hands on his shoulder with a forced smile. His red eyes narrow down at you like he is trying to figure out if you’re lying or not. Much to your relief, he removes his hand from your hair.

“Okay.” All too soon he has his arms wrapped around your waist and his face is buried in your chest. You go incredibly stiff in his hold, glancing at the top of his head with wide eyes filled with shock.  “It’s so fucking cold.” Shigaraki curses out and you stiffen when you feel his fingers against your shirt.

“W-why am I not…” You trail off, motioning to his fingers. For emphasis the boy digs his fingers into your sides, the feeling of eight fingers pressing into your skin. You’re still there. “Did you just try to kill me?!” You screech, pushing at his head to get out of his arms. Shigaraki only lets out a low chuckle, bringing you even closer to him.

“Oh, I’d never hurt a soul as precious as you are to me.”

[sooave]

The Problem With Wanting: 1

It’s 2026, and an old celebrity crush comes to haunt your old and cynical heart. You’re doing great at pretending you were never obsessed with him, and finding things about him that you don’t like. Until you’re repeatedly forced to work with him. Until he decides that he’s in love with you.

Genre: I really don’t know what to call this, but it’s not an AU, Kyungsoo’s older and still a celebrity, and it’s friends-to-lovers.

Characters: Kyungsoo x Reader 

Length: 2,314 words

Tags: Angst, Slow Burn 

Part 1 | Part 2

The problem with wanting, was that the human brain’s pathways are more easily activated for desire, rather than liking. In other words, humans naturally want things more than they actually like them. Obviously, you didn’t fault anyone for that. You knew that humans are all victims of the mechanisms of their biological systems.

Just like how you never blamed your own body for being frustratingly uncooperative when it was exactly a week before your period.

Just like how you didn’t fault Do Kyungsoo at all for confessing to you, and asking you to be his girlfriend. You knew that he just wanted you. Now if he actually had you, he’d certainly be disappointed. No, his brain would be disappointed.

Being single at age 30 was surprisingly easy for you, considering the fact that it practically made you a spinster in Asian society. Your parents’ one saving grace was that they immigrating to North America, and brought you in tow. When you returned to Korea as a full-fledged adult with a string of ex-boyfriends and old jobs behind you, it was increasingly apparent to you that Korean society was at times lovely, but hugely flawed.

Back home, the Korean aunties that your mother would bring home no longer gave a shit about the fact that you were, God forbid, an artist. And an unmarried and childless one to boot. Their own children had put them through a fair share of self-perceived grievances already, and while most of them were still conservative at heart, they knew that they lived in a society where their values weren’t necessarily correct. You knew that they didn’t all understand that their values were straight up incorrect. But at least you didn’t get harassed about your life choices.

Coming back to build a career in your birth country had you encountering situations that made you laugh and feel uncomfortable at the same time.

“You’re self-employed? How are you ever going to find yourself a husband?” You’d tell them that being your own boss in fact made your schedule much more flexible. And that you fill up the time with pursuits that actually improved your life, like cooking and yoga. Not shitty dates with people you couldn’t connect with.

Of course, the nosy aunties would continue heavily implying that your life’s purpose was to find a good husband, carry your bloodline, and take care of the home.

“Thirty?? You should have had two kids by now?” You would politely inform them that you weren’t interested in having children, and if you did, you’d adopt an orphan in need instead.

“There won’t be any good men left at this point! You’re in trouble now.” This one, you couldn’t really argue with. You were a firm believer that if someone was single for an extended period of time, there was a reason.

Most of the time, they were a shitty person. Other reasons? Nursing a heartbreak. Pining after someone unattainable. Obsessed with their career. Etcetera.

And you?

You didn’t have your priorities straight. But after a countless number of bad dates, bad relationship, mediocre relationships, and some okay ones, you kind of had an idea of what you didn’t want in a boyfriend. You were doing just peachy by yourself, for now at least.

Sure, maybe you’d want to find a life partner eventually. That would come naturally. You were also a firm believer in the fact that the best matches are found organically.

But surprisingly to you, one of the blind dates that you’d begrudgingly gone on 3 years ago was actually bearing some fruitful benefits. Your date was an assistant PD at one of the largest entertainment companies in Seoul. He was a decent guy, but was insistent about being the sole provider for his future wife. That obviously didn’t check out with you.

Luckily, he didn’t hold a grudge against you for cutting your third dinner date short once you learned of that particular value, and even suggested you as an artist for several show segments. Today, your expertise was blackboard art. Other days, it was digital painting, or watercolours. But they all focused on food illustrations.

Seung-woo, your ex-date, had a particularly annoying habit of talking your ear off while you were working. For some reason, he assumed that the several hours you spent slaving away with your arm raised over the chalk board was the perfect time to catch up with you and ramble on about his love life.

“And then, she started ordering the spicy chicken even though I had explicitly mentioned that I had an upset stomach! Really. The nerve of her.”

“Oh…” you hummed disinterestedly as you filled in the grey base colour of the fish that you were drawing for the background of this board. Apparently, some professional chef along with a celebrity guest were going to be in the kitchen today filming an episode on ways to cooking methods for fish in Korean cuisine. This particular series was something you’d seen before while you were living in the U.S., and while you felt that Korea was a bit slow on the uptake, at least they were doing something interesting with it. You didn’t get to see a lot of Korean traditional cooking methods on American-owned YouTube channels.

“So… we’re going on a second date tonight. What should I say?”

If you were in America, you would have already told Seung-Woo off for disrupting your work and being a total wuss. But this was Korea, and you couldn’t really afford to offend the very person who got you this job contract. Plus, gossip travelled like wildfire, and soon you’d be labelled as difficult to work with and saying bye-bye to your steady income.

You had to take a deep breath and set down your chalk, in fear of snapping it in annoyance.

“Did that tell you something?”

Seung-woo set down the kitchen prop that he was playing around with onto the counter.

“Tell me what?” He echoed.

“Did her action of ordering the spicy chicken tell you that she had an undesirable trait that you cannot accept from a partner?” Your tone was bordering on one that a disapproving teacher would take when reprimanding a student, but luckily Seung-woo didn’t catch that.

He wasn’t as taken aback by your mannerisms as he used to be, but ever since you explained that you spent all of your formative years abroad, he was able to rationalize all of your non-conservative behaviours.

Instead, he actually thought of your advice and comments as thoughtful and interesting. You always refrained from mentioning that your perspective came from years of counselling and therapy, in fear that he’d label you as psychotic. Seung-woo had no idea what mental health was.

After a round of hums and haws, he finally responds.

“You’re right, it did. Are you trying to say I shouldn’t go on the date tonight?”

“Hey, I just asked a question. You came to that conclusion your self!” You turn around and throw a dirty rag that you’ve been using into his chest.

That finally got him to leave you alone, after whining about your aggressiveness and how unladylike you were. Luckily, you still had plenty of time to finish the piece, and once the annoyance hindering your progress was gone, the flow started to come naturally to you.

Time began to fly by as it usually did when you were absorbed with your artwork. Before you knew it, it was already time for the segment filming to start. It wasn’t everyday that you timed your work perfectly, but today you hit the deadline exactly.

You knew that the filming was about to begin because of the camera lights had began to turn on, and a buzz of conversation had started to grow in the centre of the room. Sometimes it irked you that you were working right in front of a dozen cameras and microphones, but it was comforting to know that they had absolutely zero interest in filming you.

Seung-woo had unfortunately appeared again, appearing behind you like a golden retriever wagging it’s tail. You were packing up boxes chalk into your carrying case, attempting to ignore him as much as possible, but something he said caught your attention.

“Wait. What? Who?” You had absolutely no idea what he had said, except for the fact that a horribly familiar name fell from his lips.

“Do Kyungsoo. You don’t know of him?”

“No, I do…” Too well, in fact.

“Well, he’s here right now. I could get you an autograph if you wanted too. Just ask your oppa nicely!” He shot you a shit-eating grin and you almost want to strangle him amidst the absolute panic you were experiencing.

You weren’t experiencing a real panic attack, thankfully. But the way your hands were shaking as you placed each piece of chalk back into it’s designated slotted groove gave away that you were one-hundred-percent losing your mind. As your heart raced in your chest, you did a mental checklist of the facts that faced you right now.

You were, or you used to be, absolutely obsessed with Do Kyungsoo as a celebrity. This was back in your late teens, when you were a freshman at college.

You had not thought about him, or even looked up his name, in almost 5 years. Real life got in the way. And your cynicism.

And he was right here.

In this very room.

Suddenly, your brain was kicked into hyper-awareness mode, and it was almost impossible to resist the urge to finger comb your hair and smooth out your clothes. Fuck. You weren’t even wearing a cute outfit. Today had been a boyfriend jeans and black t-shirt day for you.

Seung-woo was still standing in front of you, looking at you expectantly, and you reminded yourself that you had to actually respond.

“Er… no. I’m good, Seung-woo,” you rolled your eyes at him, “What makes you think that I’d want an autograph? You do remember that I’m an old hag right?”

He noticed that you were having difficulty stuffing your chalk boxes back into your bag, and leans down to help you.

“Who said that you can’t have celebrity crushes at age 30? I wouldn’t shame you for that. Plus, you’re still single…” Seung-woo waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my lord,” You mutter in English to yourself, before switching to Korean.

“Idols are for the young or the delusional. Plus, they’re just regular ol’ people just like me. You take anyone with a bit of talent and a decent face and I’m sure they could pass as an idol.” This is a mantra you’ve repeated to yourself almost a million times, and it rolls off your tongue.

“God, you’re always so cynical…ah!” Seung-woo stands up to greet someone and leaves you struggling with your bag on the floor.

“No, I’m just old,” you said to yourself as you right yourself.

And then you come face to face with a profile that you’ve started at on your phone screen, your computer monitor, and even billboards, umpteenth times. It’s closer now, way closer. You saw the slight smile lines on his cheeks, and the unevenness of his skin that hasn’t been photoshopped out. But his strong eyebrows and heart-shaped smile were the same. And his eyes.

Kyungsoo was shaking hands with Seung-woo and another PD, but his eyes flickered to you briefly as you got to your feet. And then they’re gone. Like they didn’t see you at all.

You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that he’s just another person. He probably leaves his phone ringer on. That’s something that annoys you. Annoyance. It’s your weapon against anything you’re scared of. But it’s also grounding you in this insane moment.

Reminder, you’re staff. He’s the star of the show.

“Ah! This is our chalk artist, she made the board behind us,” Seung-woo declared proudly and grabbed your arm to pull you back, just as you were preparing to sneak away from the awkward circle of personnel. You’ve never cursed so strongly in your own mind before, and a string of fuckshitfuckshitfuck was still going through your mind as you gave a tight smile and bowed. All while avoiding eye contact.

You saw Kyungsoo and a few others glance at your work and you couldn’t help but cringe. God help you, you had confidence in your work, but were you completely unprepared for your teenage/young adult celebrity crush to judge you. They politely express amazement at the board, and you robotically thank them.

Seung-woo continued to discuss some detail about the segment and you took the opportunity to duck away and escape with your bag, not even taking a second look back. You were tempted of course, as you left through the studio doors. You could even stay to watch the entire filming, and no one would object. They knew who you were.

But there was no way you would be able to not fall back into your stupid crush that you still had, if you were able to just stand and watch him cook for an hour and a half. You were too old for this.

You gritted your teeth as you got in your car, placed your duffel on the passenger seat, and buckled your seatbelt.

Today, you would be an adult and do the right thing.

Tomorrow, you’d give dating apps another go.

But right now, you imagined another universe, where he was a regular person, and so were you. Then, you could allow yourself to fall in love. You closed your eyes and leaned your head onto the cold glass of the window and allowed yourself to fantasize.

A/N: I’m totally throwing this into the void and doing this for myself but part two is coming.

[faerune]

💘 + leon and cassie 🔫 now

also asked by @ottobooty!

where they first met and how hot local racoon city survivors in YOUR area want to fuck! no for real, cassie had holed up in a diner with a group of other survivors and prior to leon getting to the police station he helps cassie fix/find parts to load up an old delivery truck in the back alley to get them all to safety. when leon leaves cassie promises to come back and make sure he + claire have a ride out of town and she does appear in that last shot in her shitty little happy dairy truck like hey you guys look like you need a ride.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved cassie has always been kinda of a flirt just offhandedly and i feel like leon is kinda of the same way just he’s cheesy and awkward about it when he’s a little younger. they flirt during the couple months they’re all trying to get their bearings after racoon city and then don’t really stay in touch much until the gov drags them both in separately. 

after that more flirting, some undercover missions and zombies and leon finally asks her to dinner. cassie teases ‘don’t expect me to put out on the first date just because you saved my ass today’ pft.

who fell for who first cassie will never ever admit it but it was her. like hard. she fell for leon like she was carrying a drink carrier full of hot coffee across a busy intersection in new york, tripped off the curb in front of hundreds of people and slammed her knee into the pavement.

where their first date was and what it was like dinner and a movie! cassie loves film but also is not a snob and adores laughably bad movies so they went and saw a goofy ass B action movie and then went to a late dinner at a diner that they always eat at after work.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ) leon just pretty simply says let me take you to dinner and cassie teases ‘oh are you asking me on a date kennedy?’ and he just shrugs and goes ‘yeah. i am’ cassie admittedly gets like flustered for half a second and she’s like. okay cool fine.

who proposes first cassie. she’s been so weird and avoidant about getting married so leon has always let her bring it up. when they get back together a few months later they’re laying in bed together and cassie is like can you propose to me now? and leon is like well do you wanna be surprised or do you want the ring now? and cassie just smiles and plops her head on his chest and is like ‘surprise is okay’.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away due to their jobs and them being afraid of having each other just be another thing people hold over their heads to keep them working there, they keep it really quiet at the beginning. everyone on their team kinda knows but they aren’t announcing it everywhere.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ) leon takes her out to dinner and then they take a walk in the park! they sit on a little bench all lit up by the winter christmas lights and he gets down on one knee :’)

if they adopt any pets together absolutely! i just have not figured out what kind yet! probably a cat because cassie has cat person energy.

who’s more dominant it kinda flip flops. cassie is more dominant in terms of talking to people, making decisions but in terms of progressing the relationship that’s definitely leon. in terms of some more ahem other times cassie’s a brat and leon just wants to give her whatever she wants.

where their first kiss was and what it was like they’ve kissed on undercover missions before but i’m not sure if it really “counts”. their first kiss as just leon and cassie was when leon dropped her off at her place after their date and cassie pulled him down for a kiss. after they finished leon was smiling all dopey and still kind of leaning down to her and she just smirked at him and wished him a good night.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ) sdgjksdg i can see them at the most having like a set of cute matching mugs but that’s about it. cassie would die before wearing matching sweaters with him no matter how much she loves him.

how into pda they are they hand hold/give each other pecks/leon throws his arm around her shoulders while they walk but they’re not too obnoxious about it! cassie likes it but if he tries to do anything else she gets flustered. admittedly, leon kinda loves when she does so he’s always whispering sweet stuff in her ears while she tries to elbow him in the stomach sdklgsdg.

who holds the umbrella when it rains leon!! he’s taller so it just makes sense.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is the diner where they just always got dinner cause it was near the facility where they worked together for so long! they both have never been to DC so they just went to the nearest place after their first day and they were like so this is OUR diner.

who’s more protective leon. cassie is very annoyed by it pft. especially when she pops up during the civil war. ya know. in the middle of an actual warzone with possible biological weapons. cassie: :) im here to cause problems on purpose. leon: why in the FUCK is my ex here armed with a thousand dollar camera and a tiny pistol.

how long it is before they sleep together they almost sleep together the day before their second date, making out on leon’s desk but they get interrupted and they’re like okay we gotta chill. leon arrives to pick her up for their date and cassie yanks him into her bedroom. needless to say they miss their movie.

if they argue about anything they bicker playfully but also cassie accuses leon of not treating her like an adult who can make her own decisions because he’s so fucking overprotective. leon accuses cassie of being careless with her life. they have i guess..not arguments but debates over morals?

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ) leon leaves hickeys like he’s a teenager but he’s usually good about keeping them in places that can’t be seen. cassie wears red lipstick a lot so leon has to pay extra attention if they sneak away at work to make sure he doesn’t have it smeared all over his lips. she likes to kiss his cheek and leave a big mark too.

who steals whose clothes and how often cassie: not your hoodies babe, our hoodies.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ) they are spooners through and through. cassie needs to be held and leon is happy to do it. 

what their favourite nonsexual activity is watching movies together! leon is happy that cassie wants to share all her favorites with him and they have movie nights.

how long they stay mad at each other leon normally just needs a second to cool down normally but cassie holds a grudge for a day or maybe two then she’s ready to talk. but uh...in terms of big betrayals leon gives off the im not angry im disappointed and betrayed and you hurt me energy loud and clear and takes a long time to forgive and settle. it’s the worst cassie has ever felt.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are cassie gets a tall black coffee (iced or hot depending on the season) and leon likes lattes with whipped cream and carmel.

if they ever have any children together yes absolutely! i haven’t decided on names or anything yet but they definitely have two little boys just because that tweet that’s about that dad and two lil boys getting out of the car and the dad goes “who can go hug mom the fastest?!” is THEM.

if they have any special pet names for each other pretty normal ones! baby, babe are the most common. cassie likes to say honey and dear sarcastically because she thinks those make her sound like she’s a 50s housewife but secretly kinda likes calling him honey.

if they ever split up and / or get back together hah UH yeah. cassie leaks information about completed STRATCOM ops and leon eventually finds out and they have a huge fight. leon leaves the next morning and they end their relationship. he doesn’t turn her in because he still loves her and knows she did it with goodness in her heart but he’s just so conflicted. he just basically says turn in your resignation and leaves. they do eventually get back together! they break up early 2004, see each other in 2006 when cassie reaches out to him for his contacts to help her father who gets sick and then in 2011 they’re present in the civil war in the east and they get together after reconnecting through that.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like they meet each other’s parents for the first time! they invite them over for dinner along with cassie’s sisters and nieces and nephews. it’s VERY chaotic but it goes really well. leon’s mom loves cassie. uhh cassie’s dad scares the shit out of leon just because he’s a Jokester and lives for freaking leon out because he’s so obviously very nervous lmao.

what their names are in each other’s phones leon’s phone has cassie as “cassidy 🖤”. cassie has him in her phone just as “baby”. bonus she has his name in her phone the few days after they decide to have a kid as “sperm donor”. leon goes “cassie” in his disappointed voice and she rolls her eyes and finally changes it.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ) at the moment just their friday movie nights and whenever they go out of country on a mission they buy a magnet for their fridge!

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first leon usually falls asleep first and wakes up first. cassie usually stays up late on her laptop researching and writing.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon leon is big spoon 80% of the time but he likes to be jetpacked too!

who hogs the bathroom leon after he gets back from a really gross ass mission takes hours but cassie usually hogs it day to day.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside cassie flips out and leon gets a cup and a piece of paper, puts the little guy outside. there have been multiple occasions where it sounded like cassie was in legit danger and leon came skidding into the bathroom only to find cassie standing on the toilet.

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Battle of Uhud and Afterwards

The Incident of Raji

(4th Year of the Migration, the Month of Safar)

After the Battle of Uhud, some Arab tribes thought that Muslims became weak due to their defeat in the battle ; they started to have some movements and acts against Madinah, the center of Islam. One of those who started to prepare was Khalid b. Sufyan. When he completed the preparations to walk against Madinah, the Prophet heard about it. He sent Abdullah b. Unays in order to find out about news. Abdullah b. Unays, who learned that it was true from Khalid b. Sufyan, who was the planner of act, killed him with his sword.

This event caused the other tribes around to be inactive for a while but they were fostering their feelings of vengeance and attack against Muslims.

When the sly enemy found out that they would not cope with Muslims openly, they tried to find other ways to satisfy their feeling of vengeance. A delegate of six people from the tribes of Adal and Qara disguised as innocent people came to Madinah. They said that they were Muslims and went to the presence of the Prophet.

They said, “O Messenger of God! Islam has spread among our tribe. Please send some of your Companions to explain us the decrees of Islam and to teach the Quran!”

The Messenger of God did what they wanted because their demand seemed innocent and reasonable and it would serve Islam. He sent ten Companions under the command of Marsad b. Abi Marsad with them. Seven of the ten Companions whose names were known were as follows:

Marsad b. Abi Marsad, Khalid b. Abi Bukayr, Abdullah b. Tarıq, Asim b. Thabit, Hubayb b. Adiyy, Zayd b. Dasinna and Muattib b. Ubayd.

When the Companions came to the well belonging to the tribe of Huzay called Raji, they understood that they faced a mean and villainous betrayal. They were exposed to the attack of about a hundred archers all of a sudden. The people who had said, “We embraced Islam; send us a delegate to teach us” left them under the attack of the archers of the tribe of Lihyan.

The Muslims drew their swords and took shelter on the mountain. They tried to defend themselves with their swords but they could not resist for a long time. The traitors surrounded the mountain they had sheltered.

They said, “If you surrender and come down, we will not kill you!” The Muslim teachers did not rely on what the polytheists said and refused to surrender. One of them, Asim b. Thabit said, “I have sworn that I will never accept the protection of polytheists. I will never surrender to those unbelievers” Then, he prayed, “O God! Inform your Messenger about us.” Meanwhile, he was throwing arrows at the polytheists. While throwing arrows, he said, “Why should I not fight? I am strong enough; my arrows are with me; the string of my arrow is thick; arrows flow thanks to my bow.

“Death is bound to come; the world is ephemeral.

What is predetermined is to be suffered!

People will return to God sooner or later!

If I do not fight you, let my mother lose her son.”

When that heroic Companion ran out of arrows, he started to use his spear. When his spear broke, he drew his sword. After killing many polytheists, his last prayer was,  

“O God!  I tried to protect your religion; protect my dead body from the polytheists.”

The other Companions fought heroically, too. However, what could ten people do against one hundred people. Eventually, seven Companions, including Asim b. Thabit, were martyred by the arrows of the polytheists. When the remaining three Companions were promised by the polytheists that they would not be killed, they surrendered. The polytheists tied them fast with the strings of their bows. Then, they set out for Makkah. Their aim was to sell them to the polytheists of the Quraysh, whose hearts were full of grudge and hatred against them.

On the way to Makkah, Abdullah b. Tariq ran away. However, he was martyred by the stones thrown by the polytheists. Two Companions were left:  Zayd b. Dasinna and Hubayb b. Adiyy. The polytheists sold them in Makkah.

Asim b. Thabit had killed two sons of Sulafa, a ferocious polytheist woman,  in the Battle of Uhud. That evil woman had sworn that she would drink wine out of Asim’s skull if she captured him. The Sons of Lihya knew about it. Therefore, they wanted to take the head of Asim b. Thabit to that woman in Makkah. However, God did not let them do it. God Almighty accepted Asim b. Thabit’s prayer, “O God! I sacrificed my soul in order to protect your sublime religion beginning from the day I became a Muslim. Today is my last day. Protect my dead body from the polytheists!”, which he said just before he was martyred. When the polytheists wanted to approach his dead body, a swarm of bees appeared next to his dead body and did not let them approach it. Therefore, they left that place and decided to take the dead body the next morning. However, when they arrived there in the morning, his dead body was not there. The polytheists were surprised because God Almighty sent rain during the night and the flood drifted the dead body, protecting it from the filthy hands of the polytheists.    

Hazrat Hubayb and Hazrat Zayd are Martyred

Hazrat Hu­bayb b. Adiyy and Zayd b. Dasinna, who were taken to Makkah by the Sons of Lihya, were bought by some people whose relatives had been killed in Badr and were imprisoned. The decision of the Quraysh was to kill those two Companions. After inflicting torture on them for a while, they took them to the place called Tanim one day. Those two heroic Companions hugged each other and advised patience to each other.  

Tanim was full of people: young and old male and female. They had gone there to watch the wild torture that those two Companions would suffer. They went there to cheer the murderers who trampled on freedom and humanity. They knew that they could not take the revenge of Badr in Uhud with their unfinished victory; therefore, they wanted to take their revenge on those two innocent, defenseless and unarmed Companions by hanging them.  

Hazrat Hubayb is Martyred

They had dug a hole and set up the gallows tree.

They took Hubayb toward the gallows. Hubayb, whose heart was full of the love of God and His Messenger, was calm and unhesitant. He regarded being martyred for the religion of God as the greatest honor. He wanted permission to perform a two-rak’ah prayer. When they let him, he turned to his Lord with all his sincerity. After performing the prayer, he turned to the polytheists and said, “I swear by God that I would prolong the prayer if I did not fear that you would say, ‘Hubayb feared death and prolonged the prayer!’”

Thus, Hazrat Hubayb became the first person to start the practice of performing a two-rak’ah prayer before being executed.

The polytheists said to him, “If you give up Muhammad’s religion and return to your ancestors’ religion, we will forgive you!”

The heroic Companion said, “By God, no! I will never give up Islam. Even if you gave me the whole world, I would not give up Islam!”

This time, the polytheists said, “Tell us the truth; you would be pleased if Muhammad was here instead of you and killed instead of you, wouldn’t you?”

The answer of the Companion, who was yearning for the love of the Messenger of God, astonished the polytheists: “I swear by God that I would rather lose my house, life and family than hear that a thorn prick the foot of the Prophet!”

The polytheists just laughed at the answers of Hubayb because they had never seen such sacrifice and they had not experienced the happiness of loyalty to God and His Messenger.

When the Companion looked around, he could not see even one luminous face. All of the faces were sullen; the ugliness of the polytheism was manifest on their faces. There was nobody that could send his greetings to the Prophet among the crowd. He had nothing to do but send his greetings on the gallows tree. He invoked:

“O God!  I can see nothing but the faces of the enemy now!

“O God!  There is nobody that can give my regards to Your Messenger here! Please give my regards to him!

“O God!  You informed us about the prophethood of Your Messenger. Inform him about what happened to use in the morning.”

While he was praying, the Messenger of God received the greetings of Hubayb in Madinah saying, “Peace be on you!” Then, he turned to his Companions and said, “The Qurayshis martyred Hubayb.”

Hazrat Hubayb was tied to the tree. There were forty young people whose fathers had been killed standing against him with their spears. When they received the order, they started to hit him with the spears. They wanted Hubayb to die under torture. For a moment, Hubayb turned his face toward the Kaaba and thanked God for it: ”Praise be to God, who turned my face  to the qiblah that God, His Messenger and believers are pleased with.”

The Qurayshi polytheists could not put up with it anymore and turned his face away from the Kaaba. However, the self-sacrificing Companion wanted to be martyred facing the Kaaba. He prayed his Merciful Lord, “O God! If I am a good person in the eye of You, turn my face toward the qiblah.”

The polytheists could not turn Hubayb’s face, which had been turned to the qiblah, away from the qiblah.

There was very little time left for Hubayb to be martyred. He prayed against those who inflicted that torture on him due to his belief in and love of God and His Messenger by saying, “O God! Destroy the Qurayshi polytheists; eliminate them. Kill them all! Do not leave any one of them alive!”

This loud prayer echoed in Tanim, terrifying the unbelievers’ hearts. Some of them lay face down. Some of them plugged their ears. This fear continued long after Hubayb was martyred.

With spears stuck in his chest, Hubayb shouted at the faces of the polytheists the existence and oneness of God, and the prophethood of His Messenger. Then, he died as a martyr. Thus, he became the first Muslim to die on the gallows tree in the way of God.  

It is Hazrat Zayd’s Turn

The martyrdom of Hazrat Hubayb was to be followed by the martyrdom of Hazrat Zayd.

The polytheists took him to Tanim, too, and tied on the gallows tree.

They offered him the same things that they had offered to Hazrat Hubayb. However, he gave the same answers as Hubayb recklessly.

Abu Sufyan could not hide his astonishment and appreciation. He said,  “I have never seen anyone loved as much as Muhammad by his friends!”

When the offers of the polytheists were rejected by Zayd, they started to shoot arrows at him and martyred him. The body of the great Companion was tied there but God knows in what high realm his spirit was travelling.

Both of those Companions died without hesitating even for a moment about their belief in and loyalty to God and His Messenger.

[its-pronounced-quoassoint]

Power Rangers AU-Chapter 5

Pairings: romantic Logicality, Prinxiety, Demus, Remile

This Chapter Features: Remus centric storyline-ish, lots of exposition, think of it as a filler episode I guess

This Chapter Warnings: brief angst, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mentions of Mountian Dew, talks about Reddie fanfiction, sympathetic Deceit and Remus

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post)

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic please let me know in reply!

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Chapter 5-Downright

Remus was sick of going through the whole 'this-is-who-we're-fighting-and-a-boring-explanation' speech. The first time was bad enough. He was so unbelievably bored. How could anyone sit there and listen to Thomas talk on and on like that. The second time was a little entertaining because Roman liked to add his little spin and Thomas didn't appreciate it as much as Roman thought he did. The third time was no fun at all. Patton, though he knew about the fight a decade ago that had ended with only one Ranger surviving, he still didn't exactly know who this new 'Prince Virgilius' was.

Now, it was the fourth time around and Remus felt he could recite it to Dee himself without any help. He didn't want to do that because he was still pissed at Dee-leave it to Remus to hold grudges-but he still could explain it by memory nonetheless.

"The Dragon Witch." Thomas began.

The Rangers plus Thomas were sat in Thomas's basement that doubled as a little hideout for the Rangers. It was decorated like an old 90's dream club house. Patton and Roman sat in paw print patterned bean bags, sharing a chocolate bar. Logan stood at his conspiracy wall-he didn't call it that, but Remus knew all too well it was a conspiracy wall. And Dee was sat down on the pink inflatable couch.

"She began her attack on Earth hundreds of years ago. This you know from your average history class. Back then Power Rangers were all over the globe. Essentially one Ranger per continent. Though Antarctica didn't quite need to be covered."

"No one messes with penguins!" Patton chimed in goofily. This got a laugh out of Roman and a small smile from Thomas.

"Then the Power Rangers disappeared for a century. No explanation, no help for the public, nothing." Thomas tried to continue.

"The Red Century." Logan said plainly from where he stood.

"Yes. That's when the Red Century began. The Red Century however, abruptly ended when the Dragon Witch pulled her armies and stopped her attack all together." Thomas stated. "That was until the early 1900s when she began to specifically attack America. Then centralizing Florida, then our town. We didn't quite know why, until the Rangers of the 30s began to fight back."

"Since then, the Rangers have been chosen from generation to generation." Thomas moved over to stand by Logan's timeline. "A little over 20 years ago, my friends and I became the Rangers you knew as a child."

"Valerie, Red Ranger. Dominic, Green Ranger. Terrence, Yellow Ranger. Joan, Blue Ranger. Talyn, Pink Ranger. And Thomas, the Black Ranger." Logan pointed to pictures of each of the Rangers as he says their name.

"Until ten years ago, when, uhm-" Thomas's voice wavered.Remus saw him look to Patton who gave a small smile and turned to Dee, getting out of his bean bag and walking to the fridge by Logan's conspiracy board.

"Do you remember ten years ago when the Rangers disappeared?" Patton asked. "Everyone thought the Red Century was starting again."

"Of course. It was chaos," Dee sat back on the couch. "until the Black Ranger, or Thomas I guess, started fighting again."

"I was in recovery for a few months after we battled the Dragon Witch herself. The others didn't uh. . . di-didn't make it. I was the only Ranger until, well Roman and Remus." Thomas gestured to the twins.

Dee was avoiding Remus's eye. It was so deliberate Remus just wanted to shout 'You're really bad at this! It's so pathetic you're making me feel sorry for you. Just say something! Coward.'

"And now I'm-" Dee took a breath. "The Yellow Ranger."

"Whoop!!" Patton raised a Mountain Dew from the fridge in the air in a cheer.

"Mountain Dew?" Logan asked. "Should you be drinking that, when was the last time the drinks in there were replenished?"

"I'm sorry, but Mountain Dew from forever ago? Does there happen to be any red Mountain Dew in there?"

"Is this another The Prom reference?" Logan asked in an annoyed tone.

"No, Be More Chill, but good for you, guessing a Broadway show." Roman smiled.

"Well you don't talk about much other than Broadway so one can only assume." Logan mumbled and turned back to the board.

"What else in the world is worth talking about?!" Roman exclaimed. "Other than Lizzo and/or Zendaya."

"Cheers to that!" Patton lightly threw a Red Mountain Dew to Roman who missed the catch but snatched it off the floor with a bit of a deflated look.

"And this, Prince, that we're fighting he-"

"Prince Virgilius. He started leading the Dragon Witch's armies two years ago. I'm honestly not sure where he came from or what his true powers are. The teleportation has been something he's always had, but the fire, is new as of a few months ago." Thomas informed him.

"So far, no idea as to where he came from-"

"Where he'll go!" Roman cut in.

"Where he's come from Cotton Eye Joe." Patton finished.

"I feel this should be a more serious discussion." Logan said plainly to Thomas.

"Lo-Lo, we're sitting on inflatable furniture in a decked out, early 90s, fever dream." Remus pointed out. "You're not gonna get serious while down here. Throw me a soda Pat?"

"Please never call me that." Logan rolled his eyes.

Patton chuckled and threw a Mountain Dew to Remus. His ability to catch was no better than Roman's, so the soda hit him in the chest as his arms fumbled to catch it.

"Sorry Remus." Patton recoiled and apologized.

"How are you guys Power Rangers? You can't catch a thing! At least Patton can throw." Dee scoffed.

"Dee, please, we're gay, we can't catch for anything." Roman sighed.

"Bet! I can catch hands!" Remus opened his soda and took a long sip.

"Alright bet!" Roman stood.

"Well this isn't a very hero-like conversation." Emile giggled from the stairs.

"What are you doing down here? You shouldn't be listening to this." Thomas crosses his arms.

"Yeah well, you're all loud." Emile stated cheerfully. "Besides, I don't see why I can't listen. I already know everything."

"It's true he does." Patton shrugged. "However, Emile, you shouldn't really have to worry about any of this."

"You knew all of this when you were younger than me." Emile argued.

"Yeah, um, how's that?" Dee asked.

Patton walked back to his bean bag and sat down. "Talyn was my adoptive parent. My birth mother in South Korea was unable to keep me. So, a while after I was born, Talyn adopted me. I grew up around the Rangers."

"Patton dreamed of being a Ranger. For years that was all you would hear about." Thomas chuckled fondly.

"Six years after Talyn got Patton, my dad here, got me." Emile sat next to Patton on the bean bag.

"Then, after the Rangers fought the Dragon Witch, and Talyn didn't make it," Patton's voice broke a little, but he recovered quickly. "I was put in foster care."

"Luckily I was able to make a deal with the FBI about Patton's foster family." Thomas said.

"FBI?"

"What?" Thomas turned back around to see everyone in the room looking at him confused. "Did you all really think we were some group of hero's that reported to no one? It's a bit like the Avengers, they reported to shield who had to follow special guidelines set by the government. The Rangers are in contact with the government to protect our identities and to keep track of us."

It was silent. Remus looked around, Roman and Patton seemed to be having a silent conversation while Logan looked like the human version of a computer trying to calculate some weird math thing. Dee just looked a little overwhelmed by all of what was happening. But Remus wouldn't really know what that expression looks like on Dee. He definitely wasn't reading Dee like a picture book.

"If we're the avengers then Logan is Tony Stark and Patton is Steve." Emile said softly, attempting to relieve a little bit of the tension.

"Oh my god!" Roman looked to Emile. "And you're their son Peter Parker."

"Yes!" Emile pointed to Roman in agreement.

"What?" Logan squeaked.

"I love it!" Patton said suddenly, eyes bright. He moved to Emile and wrapped him in a hug.

"Logan look at our beautiful son!"

Remus burst into laughter. "Logan looks like a malfunctioning computer! Oh my god!!" Logan's ears turned bright pink and he turned away. However, this only resulted in Remus laughing more. He laughed so hard he fell to the floor, almost in tears. Roman was clearly having a hard time holding in his laughter while Dee shamelessly snorted at Logan's expression.

"Now don't be mean." Patton scolded jokingly.

"I will never understand you kids." Thomas shook his head.

"You're a guidance counselor." Emile pointed out.

"Doesn't mean I'm any good." Thomas shrugged turning back to Logan's board.

The laughter died down, but Remus for the life of him couldn't wipe his smile off his face. It felt good to smile with everyone.

. . .

Remus still didn't talk to Dee that much and he stopped interacting with Kayley all together because of it. The only tome he really felt sorry about it was when he overheard Kayley lashing out at Dee for messing up so she couldn't get her stuff any more. Remus didn't really feel much remorse for him though. It was Dee's fault after all, right? He figured Dee would say something sooner or later, so it was best to just get on with his life. Besides, he already was forced to see Dee more than he would have liked, what with their weekly Power Ranger meetings.

It had been a few weeks since Dee joined the team, and Remus had to admit, they worked together well enough. In that time Logan had decided there must be a pattern to Virgilius's attacks. It would seem random to anyone just casually observing, but Logan was convinced there was something behind it. The most likely theory was posed by Patton, he thought it had something to do with the moon rotation, but that still didn't sit well with Logan.

Surprising to everyone including himself, Remus discovered a pattern.

"The last attack on the upper east side of the town," Logan pointed to that side of a map of the town. "was September 14th."

"Mhm." Patton nodded along.

"Then he once again attacked the upper east side on September 30th." Logan stated. "However, the most recent attack was on the west side of town, two weeks ago on the 3rd."

Remus sighed. He pulled out his phone and stopped paying attention. He never contributed to these strategy talks anyway. This was for the others really. They were the ones who knew stuff. Remus just punched stuff.

As Dee joined the conversation, proposing the location of attacks could be the real pattern, Remus looked up to see Logan making a list. One column was dated of attacks and the other was where in the town the attacks took place. Remus looked back down at his phone, popping in a blue tooth ear bud and listening to a few of the more recent chapters of a fan fiction he was following.

Then, it hit him.

"I know the pattern!!!" Remus jumped up. "I know it! I know what his pattern is!!"

"Wh-what?" Dee asked.

"Remus, explain." Logan looked at his skeptical.

"Preferable less yelling next time kiddo."

"Yeah Pat, sure." Remus gave Patton a nod and walked up to the three at Logan's conspiracy board. "Here, there's this really popular fan fiction-"

Dee and Roman snorted before Patton and Remus shot them both dirty looks.

"Anyway! There's this really popular fanfic called Downright. It's about reddie, ya know Richie and Eddie from It." Remus went on. "I don't really read it, I listen to the audio version on YouTube."

"Get to the point please." Dee rolled his eyes.

Remus scoffed but did so anyway. "Look, here, since August, every attack has been a day after a new chapter is posted. I mean, this can't be a coincidence."

Remus handed Logan his phone who went to reaffirm Remus's hypotheses. Logan mumbled each chapter title posted since August and the date they were posted. Then matched it with an attack.

"Here, look, the author had been trying for a few months to post regularly, but took a break here." Remus pointed on the phone. "Then that Prince dude stopped."

"Around the time I became a Ranger." Patton noted, writing on the board.

"Then she posts another chapter and boom! A day after he's back at it!" Remus pointed to the place Logan had marked on his map of the town that corresponded to the attack Remus was talking about.

"So what does this mean, the Prince is some kind of fanboy?" Roman asked from his seat.

"Well, from this information we can assume that not only does our general study humans but takes interest in human things, to the point where he's, um, reading fanfiction about it." Logan began. "We can start a profile of Virgilius. If we have an idea of who he is, then predicting what he'll do next will only be easier."

"Ooo, this is like an episode of Sherlock!" Patton beamed.

"You watch Sherlock?" Logan questioned.

"I'm getting into it." Patton shrugged. "I can relate to Watson a lot."

"He's the bi one!" Roman declared. "Right? Sherlock's gay and Watson's bi?"

"Well, I've never posed that question. However! Not the topic of conversation we should be focusing on." Logan turned to Remus, handing him back the phone. "What can you tell us about people who typically read this, uh, fanfiction?"

"Well, to be honest, most of them are repressed gays. Definitely has a Tumblr blog, that's likely where he found the fic. Um, a horror fan but not classic horror, modern horror, and is probably pretty progressive. Because he's reading this fic it means he wasn't happy with the ending of It Chapter 2." Remus started.

"Meaning he had to somehow see the movie!" Patton continued jotting stuff down.

"Really, there's not much. It's not like other fandoms. He's definitely not in Thomas's generation because they aren't exactly fans of Reddie." Remus looked away. "He could either be a younger millennial or older gen-z. But other than that I can't say much else. People in the It fandom don't have any stereotypes like other fandoms. I mean some of them are insane 12 year olds."

"We can rule that one out." Logan dismissed. "However, Remus, what you said is more helpful than you think. We've got a rough profile of what he's like. We can use that to predict his moves. Granted, it's not the best information, but something is better than nothing."

"Plus, we've got Remus." Roman got up and walked over with the others. "You can tell us when the author uploads a chapter and we'll be prepared for the next day."

"Yeah, but she's almost done with the work. Like three chapters left at the most." Remus said, abruptly killing the mood.

It was quiet for a beat too long.

"Well, in the time we have, we've just gotta try our best to learn as much as we can about him!" Patton smiled through it.

"Besides, since we know he bases his attacks off of when something he likes is released, we can find another thing he might be interested in and use that as a predictor." Logan looked to his board, now adorning a list of attributes the Rangers know about Virgilius.

"Hey kids! I've got pizza bagels." Thomas yelled from the kitchen.

Patton and Roman cheered and raced up the stairs. Logan chuckled and followed the two with a fond expression. Remus watched them go. He couldn't help but feel a smile on his face. It felt kinda nice to help them. Granted they still were losers-well, not Patton-but Remus had to admit, having more than Dee to care about him felt good.

"Remus?"

Speak of the devil.

Remus peered at Dee from the side of his eye before moving to the stairs.

"Remus, hang on okay! This is so childish." Dee scoffed.

"What's childish? Me? You can add that to your list." Remus sneered and Dee flinched from his comment.

"No-I. . ." Dee looked away, Remus wondered if he was deciding whether he was annoyed or sorry. "I'm sorry I said those things."

Sorry it is.

"I mean it, I am. I should have know how hurt they would make you feel." Dee admitted. "I've never really apologized to anyone so I'm not too good at this-"

"But you're trying." Remus cut him off. "Look, Patton and I have been talking. He's trying to help me get into the college I like."

"That one for design and fashion?" Dee asked hesitantly.

"Yeah." Remus smiles a little when he said that. "You remembered."

"Mhm." Dee nodded.

"Well, yeah. I don't exactly have the chance of getting in if I keep doing," Remus gestured to himself. "this. So, I'm gonna forgive you. You don't deserve it frankly, cause I know you've said even worse stuff about me in the past, I just never said anything. But, Patton is certain that if I act all nice and stuff like this, then I'll have an easier time getting in. So, it's fine. I forgive you and everything."

"Oh. Well, okay. So, we're cool?" Dee looked a little dumbfounded. Remus wished he could take a picture.

"Yeah sure." Remus shrugged.

If you asked Remus why he lied to Dee he wouldn't be able to give you an answer. He could say that he didn't lie, but he had. There was no talk with Patton about being nice. The two did talk about college because Patton has an insufferable habit of helping people, but Patton had never mentioned Remus forgiving Dee. So, why would he say that? Simply put, Remus doesn't know. He doesn't know why he forgave Dee for saying those things. He's sure he shouldn't have, that Dee didn't truly care and forgiving him would be a mistake.

Then he saw Dee's face. He had just looked so disappointed. Though, not in Remus. Remus really didn't know why that struck him so hard, but he forgave the boy and moved on. Letting it go. Why he lied and said Patton told him too? Well, a boy must keep up his reputation.

Taglist: 

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors@maddarc@pheonix-inside-reblogs@thisismysanderssidesblog@almost-all-my-ships-are-gay@mostpeopleannoyme@the-smol-est@i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake@nadja-chamack16@too-bi-too-function@rainbowbowtie@mistypelt1234@tricksterangel25@authorized-trash@echocw

[yezielmoore]

Prompt #10: Avail

“…I see you two have met” comments Rammbroes dryly, looking from his troublesome coworker to the warrior that Cid had recommended for her strength of arms as well as character. Right now she looks dangerously unamused, angry and about ready to bite G’raha head off and not in the fun way.

Cid had also mentioned something about this, hadn’t he? How she’s a terrific fighter, utterly dependable (until you put a garlean soldier, or just a garlean, in front of her, he had added wryly, a mix of sadness and understanding in his gaze) and in possession of enough anger issues to fill a whole magazine by herself. This was going to be a fun expedition; he could already tell.

He sighs, feeling old and already regretting this. “X’lial Ris, this is G’raha Tia from the Students of Baldesion and our resident expert on all things Allagan. He’s a bit eccentric,” in the background G’raha squawks in outrage. He pays the boy no mind. They wouldn’t be having this conversation if he had kept his mischievousness to himself for a day. “I do hope you’ll find it in yourself to forgive him his little games. He means no harm.”

X’lial’s crosses her arms, causing the corrupted aether that lights their surroundings to hit her armor in just the right way to turn an imposing visage into something truly menacing. He counts his lucky stars that she isn’t obscuring her expression with the full helmet her order wears. This way at least he has some forewarning.

“Childish,” she snaps, frowning deeply. She’s angry, maybe even unreasonably so, but she hasn’t adventured on her lonesome for years without acquiring a healthy dose of cautiousness when working. It’s not like being an adventurer precludes fun or childish games or that she personally doesn’t enjoy them, but that’s for the taverns or festivals, maybe even the road if you were lucky to get travelling companions; it doesn’t belong in the field surrounded by enemies and unknowns. “Dangerous.”

“You were perfectly fine!” He protests. It hadn’t been that dangerous really, just a little test.

“You. Don’t. Know. Me!”

As it turns out, G’raha had severely misjudged her character. When Cid came to them and dropped the name of an adventurer that probably wouldn’t mind lending a hand to the expedition, he had painted a picture of an honorable but violent woman, who loved adventuring and fighting the Garlean Empire. Brawn over brains, he had thought, and left it at that.

Secretly, he had been a bit disappointed; he’d have liked to have somebody different to discuss his interests with but, well, that’s not what they need. They need strength, and so he had hatched his plan. They are supposed to trust this adventurer to keep them alive in the Tower against who-knows-what, it was only logical to test her. Or so he thought. Maybe he should’ve run his idea with Cid, as the one person that knows the adventurer personally and how she’d react to being prodded by a stranger, he thinks with some shame, ears dropping pathetically.

A bit late for regrets now.

Days pass in a sort of tense limbo. While Cid and Rammbroes keep to themselves, busy preparing the crystals that will allow them past the Eight Sentinels and into the Tower proper, G’raha does his best to win the warrior over, to no avail. She seems determined to hate him.

“I don’t know what else to do!” he complains to Cid one afternoon. He knows he sounds pathetic, he probably looks it too, but he’s at his wits end. He doesn’t even know why this is so important to him. Except that, too, is a lie and ugh.

Since his blunder, he had gone into Ravenant’s Toll and listened for current news and was shocked to hear the warrior name on everybody’s lips. X’lial Ris, the Primal Slayer, darling of Eorzea. He… doesn’t know how he missed that. He had heard of her, who hasn’t really? But somehow he hadn’t connected the Legend with Cid’s friend the one that, in his words, will surely clean up the path to the Crystal Tower, won’t even take her long I bet, don’t worry!

He feels stupid.

“She’s stubborn,” Cid concedes. He finishes working on his crystal and turns towards the distraught Seeker. “Have you actually apologized?”

G’raha throws his hands in the air. “I have tried! But she won’t speak to me!”

“Well, that’s normal.” At G’raha’s confused look he elaborates: “She doesn’t speak at all if she can get away with it, and she usually can.”

“But. Why?” He asks, bewildered.

“It’s not really my place to say and I don’t know most of it anyway,” he says. G’raha ears and tail fall and Cid realizes he needs to elaborate a bit or the two most fundamental pieces of the team are going to be at odds until X’lial’s grudge has run its course, which may just be somewhere around the end of the world, for all he knows. “What I can say is that there’s some injury involved and that speaking is not great or easy for her. Anything else you’ll have to ask her.” He sends a dry look the miqo’te’s way. “Something I really don’t recommend.”

G’raha puffs up, all offended dignity, but surprisingly he doesn’t protest that verdict. Good. Cid knows exactly how that kind of question from a stranger, especially a stranger she doesn’t like, would be received. He wants them to solve their differences, not drive a deeper chasm between them. She forgave him, eventually, but he wasn’t sure if she’d have given him the chance without the intervention of the Empire and Primals and the fact that his contribution had been desperately needed.

“Well, what do you suggest then?” The Seeker finally asks, sulkily but sincere.

“She does like reading,” predictably G’raha perks up. He snorts. “For fun,” he clarifies, in case the boy decides a three hundred years old leather bound tome drier than the Sagolii desert is an appropriate apology gift. Judging by the pout he receives he was right to do so. “Just, start with a gesture, be sincere, and then apologize. She can hold a grudge like the best, but she isn’t unreasonable.”

Usually. Hopefully this is one of those times.

“Right, right,” he mumbles several titles that Cid hopes are nice fun books and not encyclopedias. But well, not his problem anymore.

He turns back to his crystal and loses himself in the simple but time consuming task of treating it with the sand so that it’ll deactivate the trap instead of, you know, exploding in their faces. He surfaces hours later, the sun long gone and the moon high in the sky, but the last crystal is done. He stretches his back, hearing several pops, and sighs in relief.

He’s marching in the direction of the fire and, most importantly, the food, when he spies G’raha Tia and X’lial off to the side. They’re sitting next to each other. X’lial is holding a huge book open (because of course) and G’raha is pointing at something on it. X’lial nods, points at something else and cocks her head questioningly in her companion’s direction. G’raha ears flick and his tail swish happily as he launches in what Cid can already tell will be a long diatribe on one thing or another.

He shakes his head. Good for them.

At least now he won’t have to resort to Wedge’s insane suggestion of locking both miqo’te in his workshop until they worked it out. He likes his workshop in one piece, thank you very much.

[waywardnerd67]

Fast Cars & Bleeding Hearts Part II

Summary: Charlie speeding back into (Y/N)’s life leaving her mind and heart spinning. Unable to focus on her races costs her, but nothing compares to the thumping ache in her chest watching Charlie winning races. Will she be able to push aside her feelings long enough to win the most important race of the night? Characters: Charlie (OMC), Jessie (OFC), Kyle (OMC), Joel (OMC), Sean aka King (OMC), Reader Pairing: Charlie x Reader / Joel x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 2399 A/N: Once again, Charlie Hunnam starred in my dreams and I am here to continue the story.

Check out: Fast Cars & Bleeding Hearts

(Y/N) let her eyes wander up Charlie’s body. His jeans were hanging low on his narrow hips. His chest and shoulders were broader. Even through his hoodie, she could see his biceps bulging. Charlie had shorter hair now from what she could see under his black ball cap. Then her eyes connected with his, the same deep blue ones she fell in love with when they were teenagers.

“It’s nice to see you again, (Y/N). You look great.” His hand ran over the back of his neck as he smiled at her.

(Y/N) shook her head slightly, “Thanks, you too. What brings you back to town?”

His eyes glanced behind her, “Wow, your car looks great. May I?” he asked, starting to walk past her.

“No,” she reached out pressing her hand against his firm chest, “you gave up the right to look under her hood when you ditched us five years ago. I suggest you get your own car ready because King will be starting soon.”

She turned back towards her car not looking back at the man her heart ached for. The man who disappeared from her life in her weakest moment. (Y/N) heard Kyle talking to Charlie as they walked away. She leaned against her car placing her head down on it when Jessie stood next to her.

“When he first reached out to Kyle, I told him to tell Charlie to fuck off.” (Y/N) looked over to her best friend chuckling.

“Let me guess, he used his charm on you to get you to agree to him having the apartment.” she lifted her head and turned to lean her back against her car.

Jessie shook her head, “No he couldn’t charm me if he tried. Charlie told me where he had been the last five years and why he left. It was time for him to come home.”

(Y/N) scoffed, “Really? What could he have possibly said that justifies him leaving his coma ridden girlfriend?”

“That’s his story to tell, (Y/N). For what it’s worth, I think you should hear him out,” Jessie touched her shoulder, “However, right now you need to focus on kicking ass and winning races.”

(Y/N) laughed, “You’re right. King is going to start soon.”

Race night always began with Sean or as he was known on the streets, King, having a drivers’ meeting. He would go over rules, expectations and then draw for races. Normally she would listen carefully since King was known for changing things up. Tonight, she could not focus on anything but the pair of blue eyes across the drivers’ circle staring at her.

“Alright, looks like our first race will be (Y/N) and Ronan. Y’all have twenty minutes to get to the line.” King dismissed them.

(Y/N) watched as Charlie walked over to King having an intense conversation. It was only when someone tapped her on the shoulder that she looked away. Kyle was standing next to her and she gave him a gentle shove with her shoulder.

“I know you hate him and I know you want answers. For now, push it aside and focus on the road in front of you.” Kyle’s calm voice brought her mind to focus clearly.

She gave him a short nod before walking alongside him to her car. Exactly twenty minutes later, (Y/N) was revving her car on the starting line. Ronan next to her with his ‘87 Camaro z28 which was nearly five hundred pounds lighter than her Chevelle. She turned back towards the road in front of her when her eyes went wide seeing who was flagging the race.

Charlie stood in between them about six feet up. A flashlight in his right hand and his blue eyes on her. (Y/N) was even more surprised to see sympathy in his eyes right before he flashed his light signaling for them to go. Being focused on Charlie caused her to be slow off the line. She lost to Ronan by half a car length which was not too bad, but if she had been focused she could have won.

Driving back to her trailer, she parked taking off her helmet, “Shit!” she yelled opening the door.

“What happened?” Kyle asked as Corey popped the hood of her car.

(Y/N) spotted Ronan making his way over for the two hundred dollars they had bet. Walking up into her trailer she grabbed their money box to get the money.

“Off your game tonight, (Y/N).” He said holding his hand out.

She slapped the two bills in his hand, “I guess your lucky night. I’ll get that back from you soon, Ro.”

He walked off laughing while she walked back to her car. Kyle and Corey were looking over the data on his computer.

“King is fucking with me, isn’t he?” she asked when her friends looked over to her.

Kyle nodded, “You knew he would. You’ve taken a lot of money off his guys and now he sees a way to make the playing field even.”

“When’s my next race?” (Y/N) pulled her hood on her head and grabbed her headphones from her purse.

Corey looked up at her, “At least a half-hour. I wouldn’t tune anything on the car so she’s ready.”

She gave them a thumbs up then started to walk down the path towards the entrance they all came in. There were only King’s watchers out there keeping an eye out for cops. (Y/N) pulled out her phone turning on her favorite playlist. Her favorite band blared into her ears calming her instantly. She loved it when they would race out here. The night sky was cloudless which meant the stars were shining bright. Letting out a long breath seeing it in front of her, (Y/N) began to walk back towards her car.

The night was turning out to be a bust. No matter how hard she tried, Charlie flagging her races were too distracting. Every race she was up against one of King’s drivers. After her third loss, she stormed off to confront King about it. Kyle and Corey hot on her trail.

“King!” she called out as she approached his trailer.

Sean was a larger than life kind of guy. He was nearly a foot taller than she was and a round belly that was usually hidden under a baggy t-shirt. She never had an issue with him until one night his drivers kept challenging her to races and she took all their money. It was all fair and square which was the way King ran all his races, but apparently he does hold grudges.

“(Y/N), what can I do for you?” he said, stepping out of his trailer with a smug smile on his face.

“Well you could start by stop fucking with my races.” She stood with her hands on her hips staring right up at him.

His eyes flashed with anger for a moment, “You’re accusing me as messing with your races. Why would I ever do that?”

Before she could say anything a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist pulling her back. She watched as Kyle and Corey started to talk to King as she was being dragged away.

“Hey! Get off me!” she yelled trying to break free from whomever had her.

A familiar raspy voice had her body stiffening, “(Y/N), shut up before King decides to do something rash.”

Charlie let go of her and she whirled around with her fist connecting with his jaw, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Charlie chuckled, rubbing his jaw, “Damn… forgot about your killer right hook.”

“Is your life’s mission to make my life a living hell?” she asked, pushing him as hard she could.

“Of course not, (Y/N). I don’t want to do this, but I have too whatever King says. It’s part of my agreement to be back here. And you know what?” He pulled her closer to him, leaning in until their noses were almost touching.

She sucked in a breath, “W-What?” she whispered.

“It’s all worth it to be able to see you again, pretty girl.” His lips pressed against hers making her head spin.

“(Y/N)?”

She pulled away hearing her name only to come face to face with her boyfriend, Joel, eyes wide in shock. (Y/N) looked between the two men in front of her. Her mind urged her to run and her body gave in to that urge as she ran past them both. Each of them called out her name but she did not stop running until she was at her trailer again.

Jessie was talking with Kyle when (Y/N) got there, “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Joel. Charlie.” she said in between gulps of air.

Kyle grabbed a hold of her shoulders, “We’ve got bigger problems than that right now. King wants you and Charlie to be the last race. A thousand dollars on the line and that will be the last of our cush fund.”

Her body shook and she felt as if she would pass out, “I-I can’t.”

Kyle helped her over to a chair in the trailer while Jessie grabbed her a water bottle, “Look I know a lot of shit is going down, but we need this win. I don’t know what Charlie’s deal is with King but he won’t throw the race. We need you to win.”

(Y/N) took a long drink from the bottle nodding, “Okay. Okay. Let’s make some adjustments to the car because we know Charlie has got some power under his hood.”

Ten minutes later, (Y/N) was pulling up to the starting line where Charlie’s cherry red Chevelle was already there. He was looking straight ahead gripping his steering wheel tightly. One of King’s drivers was flagging the race and she turned her eyes to the road ahead of her.

“When you’re on the line don’t look anywhere but the finish line. The people around you, the driver next to you means nothing. The only thing that matters is crossing that finish line first.” Charlie’s words from when they raced together echoed in her mind.

Focusing on the quarter mile in front of her as soon as she saw the flashlight shine, she pressed her foot to the accelerator taking off like a bullet. Everything blurred around her as she kept her car steady in a straight line. A speck of red creeping up on her right side as the finish line came into view. Pressing her foot down further trying to edge out Charlie the finish line flashed beneath them as both their chautes popped out.

Both cars stopped and they each took off their helmets. Looking to one another a wide smile was mirrored across their faces as they got out of their cars. (Y/N) jumped into his arms as he spun her around.

“Damn pretty girl, that is the best race I’ve had in a long time!” Charlie put her feet back on the ground, his arms keeping her against him.

“Yeah it was even if King will make it to where he gets the money.” She tried to take a step back, but Charlie held her closer, “Charlie…”

“I know. Your boyfriend gave me an ear full. I just want you to hear my side of what happened that night. I will keep my distance out of respect for your boyfriend, but I… I can’t leave here tonight without this.” His lips crashed against hers.

Time froze in that moment and it was just the two of them together. All the anger and resentment she had for him vanished. Her hands found their way up into his soft blond hair. A low groan rumbling from his chest as his hands slid down to her hips. Just as quickly their kiss started, Charlie broke away stepping away from her.

“Boyfriend or not, I’m here to stay,” he stepped closer his lips near her ear, “and you’re worth the wait pretty girl.”

Charlie stepped past her getting back in his car and driving back to the starting line. (Y/N) stood there her mind wildly trying to process everything that happened. She quickly got back into her car, making her way back to the starting line where everyone was waiting. Pulling up, she found Kyle, Corey and King looking at a computer screen.

Parking her car, she walked up to them just as Charlie was, “What’s going on?”

“It was too close to call so they’re reviewing the footage.” Jessie explained coming to stand beside her.

(Y/N) glanced over to her, “Where’s Joel?” she whispered.

Jessie nodded towards their trailer, “Back there. He didn’t want to watch the race.”

“We clearly have a winner.” King announced.

Seeing Kyle and Corey’s faces told (Y/N) everything she needed to know. Just as she assumed, King announced Charlie the winner by a bumper. Corey was cursing under his breath as he handed her the money. She walked over to King and Charlie handed him the money.

“Good race. I’ll win this back soon.” she said as she held her hand out to him.

Charlie shook her hand holding onto it tightly, “I’m sure you will.” he winked at her before letting go of her hand.

Walking away from him was hard for (Y/N) but she looped her arm with Jessie’s making her way back to her car to pack it up for the night. Joel was standing beside the truck talking with Kyle while Corey finished packing up their stuff.

“Give me a ride home, handsome?” she asked, bumping his shoulder with hers.

“Yeah, I think we have a lot to talk about.” Joel started walking toward his car as Kyle gave her sympathetic squeeze on her shoulder.

Her and Joel drove in silence for a while until he pulled off to a rest area. There was no one around and they were still an hour from being home.

She turned in her seat towards him, “You’re not going to murder me out here?” she joked.

Joel shook his head not looking at her, “Tell me everything about Charlie. Don’t leave anything out including your feelings for him. Then, we can decide if this relationship is worth keeping for either of us.”

Tagging: @maddiepants​ (because she read the last one lol)