#god dad!soul is a need i wasn’t aware i had

[hihomeghere]

megan, darling sunshine, i have the softest of soft requests for you with our favorite cowboy. 🥺

can i request #6, #34, #36, #41, #83 with arthur? i desperately need protective, soon-to-be dad!arthur in my life. it's what we all deserve, honestly. 🤍

thank you so much! i can't wait to see what absolute magic you make with these prompts.

Deserving | Arthur Morgan / Reader

First off let me give you the fattest smooch <3

Word Count : 1.9k Prompts : 6. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear. 34. I think you're showing. 36. You're glowing. 41. The baby loves hearing you sing/speak. 83. Was that a kick? Warnings/tags : Cursing, talk of abandonment, Reader is 5 months pregnant, Arthur deserves a second chance at being a father, Self degrading talk on Arthur's part, Switch POV.

Arthur was aware it was a tad foolish the way he was feeling. Although seeing you growing his child has awakened something that had been lying dormant in him. Something that he hardly understood himself. A primal feeling, knowing that he was the one who made you like this. That it was his seed that had made you grow swollen and round and so damn gorgeous. 

He was also painfully aware of the gold ring in his pocket, his nerves eating him from the inside out. He had never been so nervous in his entire life, more nervous than when he went on his first job. Unlike a job he had never felt more unprepared. He had always wanted children, and he had dreamed of having children with you. But Jesus, he was terrified he would turn out like his old man. He didn’t- no - he couldn’t mess up this time. Not with you. Yes, he loved you. God he loved you more than anything. Arthur did not necessarily believe in soulmates. Perhaps when he was younger he could have believed that his soul could be tied to another person, but he wasn’t that foolish anymore. Love was something you worked for, it wasn't predestined by whatever god was above. He knew you could easily find another man to love you, even with the babe. He also knew you deserved someone better than him. You deserved the world, deserved someone who would build you a home, someone who hadn’t been too damn chicken to ask you to marry him before knocking you up. But he also knew that no man could love you like he loved you.

“You’re staring Arthur.” You chuckled, raising a brow as you turned to face him. Your hand resting on your hip as you leaned on the boar skinned table.

“You’re glowing.” He said softly, not denying the fact that he had indeed been staring at you. How could he not? You were really glowing, he hadn’t known that that silly saying about pregnant women was the truth. You were like some angel, the glow coming from within, lighting up the small tent. If he squinted he swore he could see a halo around your head. Especially when your bump had finally shown itself. 

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you went back to whatever task you were working on. He walked up behind you, his deft fingers working on removing his gun belt. Laying belt down on the table before pulling you against his chest.

His hands lovingly squeezed your hips, before moving to your stomach. He sighed contently, laying his head in the crook of your neck. Breathing in your sweet smell, his calloused hands running over the soft fabric of your skirt. His heart nearly stopped as he felt the swell of your abdomen. Nearly brought to his knees by such a small thing. Well it wasn’t exactly small anymore, you had finally ‘popped’. 

“‘Think you’re showing, sunshine.” He whispered, his breath tickling your ear as he swayed with you in his arms. You giggled, shying away from his lips as they brushed against your neck.

“I would say so, can’t fit in my damn pants anymore.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued to patch a hole in one of his shirts. 

In all honesty, you hadn’t been able to fit in your pants for a long time. It had been almost four months since the fateful day you told Arthur you were pregnant.

-

You had all the telltale signs, breast tenderness, food aversions, etc. Along with Abigail’s damn knowing glances, and then your monthly cycle had been absent, confirming your suspicions. You had nearly gone mad, a million thoughts running through your head. How were you supposed to care for a child with the lifestyle you had? You had briefly discussed children with Arthur, but it was always in the future. When you weren’t being chased by the law or Pinkertons or whoever. You didn’t want your child to be raised how either of you were raised. Always on the run, never having a true safe place to call home. Speaking of the future, marriage had always been a talk for the future as well. Now you were here, an unwed mother. 

And then there was Isaac and Eliza. That was a whole new can of worms to throw into the mix. Would he even want to have a child right now? Would he still want you after he found out? If he left you what would you do?

You would manage, that’s what you always did. But you didn’t want to go through this without him. 

He had found you pacing near camp, nearly chewing your lip off. His heart constricted in his chest as he watched you.

“Everything alright darlin’?” He asked, pulling you out of your downward spiral. A similar concerned expression on his face as he took you in. You met his bright blue eyes and instantly you fell apart. Tears welled up in your eyes as he rushed over to you. Taking long strides across the grass before pulling you into his broad chest. His calloused hands warm and loving as they rubbed up and down your back, your body shaking with sobs you couldn’t control. “Darlin’ you’re scaring me.” He said softly, laying his chin on the top of your head. “Talk to me sunshine.”

“Arthur I think-“ You let out a shaky breath, “I think I’m pregnant.” You cried, tears clouding your vision as you looked up at him. 

He was frozen, his brain short circuiting as he tried to process the words you had just said. He must have heard you wrong. 

“What… what did ya say darlin’?” He asked, his hands on your biceps as he held you in front of him. His brows furrowed and his lips drawn into a thin line. 

“I’m pregnant Arthur.” You said, your lip trembling as you waited for his response. You were trembling in his grasp, your heart pounding against your rib cage. 

“Okay.” He nodded slowly, still trying to wrap his head around it all. Goddamn it Morgan, you’ve gone done it again. Are you seriously the most foolish man alive? His thoughts spiraled into their usual degrading speech. Here you were shaking in his arms like a damn leaf and he was too damn stupid to say anything. Say something, anything, to stop her from crying. Your tears tugging on his heart strings. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He cooed, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry, please.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“M’sorry-” You sobbed, looking down.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize for this.” He said holding your face, “If anyone ought to apologize, it should be me.” He said, shaking his head. You bit your lip, looking up at him.

“Arthur, what are we gonna do?” You asked, finally calmed down enough to speak a coherent sentence. He clenched his jaw, looking off to the side.

“Do you want this?” He asked softly, running his hand down your arm. Taking your significantly smaller hands in his, squeezing them gently.

“I-“ You sighed, letting out a long breath. “I think I do.” You nodded, hesitantly raising your head to look at him. He exhaled a breath of relief. 

“Okay.” He nodded, “I want this too.” He said, giving you a reassuring smile. You couldn’t help but let out an equally relieved breath, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah?” You asked, chuckling breathlessly. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, chuckling along with you. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you, you or the baby, I swear.” He said gently pulling you closer, his hand moving down to caress your stomach. 

-

You smiled at the memory as Arthur rubbed his hand over your bump.

“They movin’ any?” He asked, kissing your cheek.

“They have been most of the day.” You chuckled, following his lips with your cheek as he pulled away. You turned around in his grasp, laying your hands on his chest. “They’d probably move if you talked to them. You know how the baby loves hearing you talk.” You said, smiling up at him. He grinned, his eyes sparkling with pride.

 He knelt down, feeling his mothers ring slide lower into his pocket. As he knelt face to face with your round belly, he couldn’t have been more thankful that Mary had returned his ring. That things hadn’t worked out between them, because if they did, he would have missed this. 

He pressed his lips against your belly in a chaste kiss, before chuckling softly to himself. “Hey there kid.” He said, his grin growing if that was even possible. “Ya bein’ good for ya mama?” He asked, running his hand over the tight skin. He felt a small kick under his palm, looking up at you for confirmation that it wasn’t a part of his imagination. “Was that a kick?”

“Sure was.” You chuckled, laying your hand over his. He chuckled, shaking his head as he stared at your belly. There had been too many nights lying next to you on his small cot, twirling the ring in his fingers. Just trying to work up the courage to ask you. Even before your belly started to swell he had dreamed of asking you. He just wanted everything to be perfect, although in hindsight it was a foolish thought. Things would never be perfect, that was the thing wasn’t it?

Now was the time. He knew it, kneeling here in front of you, but how was he gonna ask? How was he gonna get past the lump in his throat?

“Hey kiddo, ya think I could have a moment with your mama here?” He asked, a nervous smile on his lips as he looked up at you. “I got a question for her.” It was now or never. He reached into his pocket, his sweaty fingers grasping the small gold ring. He took in a deep breath before finding your gaze, holding out the ring to you. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, tears pricking your eyes.

“This… well this ain’t how I imagined this. I wanted to do something special for ya and I should’ve done this a long time ago. I promised ya when we found out about the kid I wouldn’t let anything happen to ya. I mean to keep that promise. There are men more deserving of you, hell I’m probably the least deserving-“ You scoffed shaking your head, “But none of those men could ever love you the way I do. So, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He asked, gingerly holding your left hand. 

“Yes, yes!” You cried, grinning as he slipped the ring onto your finger. He let out a breath of relief, getting to his feet. You threw yourself into his arms, laughing as tears slipped down your cheeks. 

“It’s uh- I know it’s nothing fancy but-“ He said softly, “It was my mothers and I know she’d want ya to have it.”

“It’s perfect.” You said, pulling away to admire the ruby ring. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You chuckled, wiping away your tears as you admired the ring. Arthur’s heart warmed at your words. He would never know what he had done to deserve someone like you, you and the baby. Although he may not have said his vows at that moment, he made a silent one in his heart. As long as his heart was beating, and there was still breath in his lungs, nothing would ever happen to either of you.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Love Or Hate

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Will, Apollo A long overdue conversation about family, betrayal, and loving them anyway. TOApril day 15 - Without Requisite or Deadline. Halfway there and this was such a weird prompt, so thanks to @fearlessinger for translating it as "unconditional" for me, which finally got my muses churning on something...

Will opened his eyes with a gasp, residual light taking its time to fade away from the explosion his mind had conjured up once again.  It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed of that moment, when he’d listened to Nico and death and his own hatred over the urge to heal and save within him, and he knew it wasn’t going to be the last, either.  Some demons just never go away, and regret was one of them.

What made it worse was that Will still didn’t know if he did regret it, and if he didn’t, did that make him a bad person?

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Around him, dawn broke softly, a gradual light intensifying oh so slowly in the inverse of the explosion.  There was no sign of the sun, but there didn’t need to be.  Will wasn’t in his bed, wasn’t in his cabin, wasn’t even in camp, and that told him that the dawn wasn’t real.

It was symbolic, instead, a caressing comfort to match the warm hands that were settling on his shoulders, drawing him against an even warmer body.

Apollo had drawn him out from nightmares into a dream safe space enough times in his life that Will had no problem recognising the signs again, here.

He closed his eyes for a moment, watched the rest of the explosion finish fading away, and then took a deep breath.  “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Will,” his dad said, and Will leaned back willingly as Apollo snaked an arm around his torso, resting his head against his father’s shoulder and tilting his head up to look at him.  “More bad dreams?”

“Yeah,” Will admitted, letting his eyes fall to half-mast again.  The nightmares wouldn’t come for him again tonight; once Apollo had pulled him out of one, the rest of his night was always far more pleasant, if not necessarily more restful.  His body got to keep resting, sure, but his mind and soul wouldn’t.

Not that Will cared, if it meant he got to spend some time with his dad, uninterrupted and unshared.

“Thanks,” he added, somewhat belatedly, but that didn’t really matter with gods, with Apollo, because they always knew what he was referring to even if it took a while for him to say anything.

“You’re welcome,” Apollo murmured into his hair, and Will felt a light pressure in his hair for a moment.

These gestures of affection had never been missing from Apollo’s various dream visits over the years, but they’d become far more commonplace since his mortality and all the various fallouts from that.  Will was sure he didn’t need them to know that his dad loved him, but that didn’t stop him enjoying them whenever they were dished out.

Apollo loved all of them, and Will was sure they knew it.  He certainly did.

Echoes of the explosion flickered behind his eyelids, rudely dragging him out from his gentle relaxation with his dad, and a flicker of… of something, danced inside his chest.  It wasn’t comfortable, rather closer to dread, and in a dreamscape there was no way Apollo wasn’t going to notice it.

“Will?” he asked, probing lightly.  “Is something wrong?”

Will appreciated the offer of an out, a way to dodge the topic, because Apollo knew something was bothering him, that was as clear as the dream-dawn sky above him, but he’d given Will an opening to lie about it.  They’d both know it was a lie, of course, but that didn’t really matter, because it wasn’t about lie or truth, it was about whether or not Will wanted to talk about it.

He didn’t, not really, but it was something he’d never had a chance to mention to Apollo, what with his father’s absence and then mortal stint, and he was self-aware enough to know that he wanted answers, somehow.

He hoped he wanted answers, anyway.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked instead of answering directly, glancing towards his father’s face.  Blue eyes, the exact same shade as his, met his look evenly and softly.

“Of course,” Apollo said.  “You can always ask me anything, Will.  What is it?”

Will took a deep breath.  “Octavian,” he said, and felt Apollo still behind him.  “I… How much was the truth?”

He’d never been able to reconcile what Octavian had to say about his father with what he knew of Apollo, but as much as he hated it, the older boy had been a descendant of his all the same, and Will wondered what that meant for their relationship.  He hadn’t really met many legacies of Apollo; they seemed to be a rarity at Camp Jupiter, for reasons his father had never explained.

Apollo sighed.  “Octavian… was not evil,” he said.  “Nor was he… entirely wrong.”

Will’s chest tightened.  “He wasn’t?” he asked, his voice cracking and coming out far too small.  “But-”

“I did search for more power,” Apollo confessed, “and Camp Jupiter was an obvious place to start.  Octavian was more than willing to help me.  Perhaps it was just because he grew up hearing stories of me from the cradle, but he was always devoted to me.”  Will thought Apollo sounded a little pained at that.  “How he reached the conclusion that he needed to destroy Camp Half-Blood, however, I don’t know.  That was never my intention, or my implication when I spoke with him.  We spoke of uniting the camps, much the same way they are now, not subjugating.”

“I hate him, for that,” Will admitted quietly, looking away from Apollo because he didn’t want to see disappointment in his father’s eyes.  “Everything from his attitude to what he did annoyed me, but it was what he was trying to do that was the worst.  He was going to pin the blame for it on you!”

“I know,” Apollo said, “although I don’t think he saw it as blame.”

Will swallowed.  “Do… do you hate him?” he asked, not knowing if he wanted to know the answer to that.  He didn’t know if he actually wanted to know if Apollo was capable of hating his own descendants, because it felt wrong but Octavian had done so much bad, caused so much hurt, that Will couldn’t comprehend not hating him.

His dad didn’t answer immediately, which could have meant anything and Will didn’t know which anything it was.  There was a tenseness in his body, where Will was leant against him.

“I… felt betrayed,” Apollo finally answered.  “And angry. Definitely angry.  Camp Half-Blood is my creation, and for anyone, let alone my own descendant, to attempt to destroy it…”  He trailed off, and shook his head.  “But at the same time, Octavian is my descendant.  He might not be my son, but… that doesn’t matter, really.  I still loved him.”

“Loved?” Will wondered, and Apollo’s arms wrapped around him, encasing him in a glow of warmth.

“Loved,” Apollo repeated, before shaking his head.  “No.  Not loved.”  He paused.  “Love.”

The emphasis on present tense startled Will.  “But he’s dead,” he pointed out.

“You hate him,” Apollo reminded him gently, and Will felt a little cold at the words, no matter how true they were, because his dad clearly didn’t, and that felt like he was the one in the wrong.  “And that’s okay, Will.  There is no law in the universe that says you aren’t allowed to.  Family doesn’t have to love each other.”

“They should,” Will mumbled, “shouldn’t they?”

Apollo sighed.  “Not if they’ve only caused pain.  You don’t owe anyone love if they’ve hurt you, not even family.  Octavian only ever hurt you.  It’s okay if you hate him.”

“But you don’t,” Will mumbled.  Apollo shook his head.

“No,” he agreed, “I don’t.  But that doesn’t mean you can’t, or shouldn’t.  It’s okay, Will.”

“Even though I killed him?”  Will didn’t mean to ask it, hadn’t even realised the thoughts had been swirling around in his mind until they gave themselves a voice, but he couldn’t take them back.

“You didn’t kill him,” Apollo said instantly.  “Octavian made his own choices, and followed the fate he carved out for himself.  Don’t take on a burden that isn’t yours to carry, Will.  His death is his burden, not yours.”

“But-”

“But nothing.”  Will’s hair bowed under the pressure of something pressing against his head instead.  “Don’t do this to yourself, Will.  You did nothing wrong, and his blood is not on your hands.”

Will didn’t know if he believed that, but arguing the point against his dad was clearly a futile endeavour.

“Why don’t you hate him?” he asked instead, dragging the conversation back a few steps.

Apollo sighed into his hair.  Will felt the strands move around with the force of it.

“He’s my child,” he said, “even if there are a few more generations between him and me than there are between us.  I could never hate him.  I could never hate any of you, no matter what you do.  I’m not strong enough, not to hate family.”

Will supposed he could understand that, at least.  Maybe if he’d ever actually seen Octavian as family, he’d be the same, but he hadn’t – and if he was honest, he probably preferred it the way it was.

Finding the strength to hate family seemed like it would be exhausting.

[youngyoo-apologist]

Master-post guide on [In the Borderline]

Hey guys if you’re wondering why this exists is because I think that ItB has too many words so I’m just gonna straight up give you guys summaries of each chapter. + other world building stuff that’s important because there’s a lot of it and with how long it is, it’s hard to remember lol.

Chapters for s1

Prologue: Changes

Summary—> The people around Cale Henituse noticing how he’s changed, a set up chapter for the bigger plot.

What’s important:

Events have happened differently from canon(most notably, Violan and Deruth’s marriage being pushed back three years)

Basen being vaguely aware about his brother’s reasons to acting that way (implying that Cale’s trash act wasn’t completely perfect from the start)

Jour’s study housing novels and research books of all kinds.

The regression goes back to year 777 (4 years before the Harris Village Incident)

Chapter 1: Welcome Back(1)

Summary—> Kim Roksoo witnesses the end moments of Cale’s death and interferes with the deal after passing out while reading [The Birth of a Hero]. He now knows the voice in his head(concerning I know.) was actually the trash, Cale Henituse. The first few days of the regression on Roan are detailed. Cale begins to repair his relationship with his siblings

What’s important:

They won the war. Roan Kingdom was never razed to the ground.

Lily Henituse is alive(actually count most of the hero party here too, they all would’ve technically bit the dust by the final battle in TBoaH)

The deal being imperfect.

Once again Jour’s study being basically the library of Alexandria i guess.

Chapter 2: Welcome back(2)

Summary—> Cale wakes up on Earth, they go to a library before the chapter cuts back to Roan. Cale trains and spends time with the north-eastern nobles. Two year time skip after this. At the ending Cale’s whole death is revealed alongside the deal Choi Han made with the God of Death. He is now aware of the existence of [The Birth of a Hero].

What’s important:

List of survivors: Lily, Lock, Rosalyn, Hans, Alberu, Amiru, Choi Han.

List of those who had died: Jour, Deruth, Ron, Basen, Violan, Eric, Hilsman (Ron’s situation is complicated, though lol)

Lock and Lily were not there for the finale of the battle as well as Alberu, Rosalyn was there but she did not see the final confrontation with the WS

Despite Cale making the deal immediately after he died, those in Roan lived one more year until the world was reset.

Chapter 3: What was left behind(1)

Summary—> Aftermath of Cale’s death. Backstory stuff to how Henituse got involved with the hero party. Choi Han becomes count, one year timeskip and everybody becomes the papers in [The Birth of a Hero]. Choi Han’s deal with death in detail. Death monologs about important plot stuff

What’s important:

The amount of words everyone had on their papers. For example, Lily having several blank pages despite living and witnessing major parts of the war while the original protagonists of [The Birth of a Hero] have many words on their pages.

Removing/repressing memories from souls being a difficult process since souls r memories.

The only thing stronger than Death was Memories. No one truly dies until they are forgotten.

The more GoD messes with things the less power he actually has cause of # punishment (he’s getting beat up)

Chapter 4: What was left behind(2)

Summary—> Choi Han’s back in Korea and tells his mom he’s suicidal(self aware king!) , eats food and has several flashbacks. Choi Han lives life in Korea for a month before he runs into the dark forest cause he’s paranoid (# self sacrificial king, he didn’t need to do all that tho) and he wrote a lot in diaries and journals about his time in Roan

What’s important:

Choi Han and Choi Jungsoo actually interacted in the past and Choi Han’s time on earth is closer to CJS and KRS’s time

CH’s dad(Choi Sujin/CSJ) noticing CH’s presence even though CH is literally a war veteran.

CH being mentally unstable (VERY IMPORTANT)

Chapter 5: Old friend(1)

Summary —> Cale posses KRS on earth. Cuts to Roan and Cale makes plans to go to Harris Village without Deruth’s knowledge. Important nightmare sequences happen. Cale goes to Harris village

What’s important:

The first signs of the imperfect regression.

Cale’s depressing and somewhat gay dreams

The concepts of ghosts as a whole

Chapter 6: Old friend(2)

Chapter summary—> Cale goes to Harris village and collects the Rings of Life and he also starts bleeding and looking like he’s almost dying. Choi Han was stalling meeting Cale so he took a walk near the forest only to meet Cale anyway and rush him to medical attention. CH can see KRS too and communicate telepathically. Choi Han follows them back to Rain City

What’s important:

Everything about RoL

CH being able to see KRS

CH getting out of the forest earlier.

CH having unreliable memories and narration of events

The Granny who took in Choi Han having grandchildren unlike in [The Birth of a Hero]

Chapter 7: Old friend(3)

Summary—> They get back to rain city. CH and Cale talk and communicate feelings (rare, they don’t do it again after this) Cale finds out abt Choi Han’s depressing villain origin worthy story. Deeper insight into the war. Choi Han and Beacrox face off.

What’s important:

Flashback scenes

A/N; I edited the chapter I’m okay with it now :D

Chapter 8: What to do?(1)

Summary—> Hilsman and Hans gossip while Beacrox begrudgingly listens. Hilsman gets humbled by Choi Han. Choi Han and Kim Roksoo talk and have a bonding experience abt Cale giving them gray hairs. Time passes and flashback to Choi Han talking abt killing Raon first time around. Chapter ends with them planning to sneak out

What’s important:

Everything about time and about how that is detailed

Cale and KRS not knowing anything abt why stuff is like this (they will find out eventually, unfortunately for them lmfao)

Chapter 9: What to do?(2)

Summary—> Choi Han and Cale go on a date but they don’t call it a date also Cale finds out abt Lily taking sword lessons. Chapter ends with KRS finally being able to physically interact with things after 2 years of not being able to

What’s important:

Cale’s trash act not being completely perfect.

Robin(yes they don’t show up again after this chapter but they will eventually, not rlly a major OC but their existence is something to think about time to time)

A/N: This chapter is very skippable ngl. Unless u like reading yaoi u don’t rlly have to read in between the lines for this one, only the ending segment is important. This was a filler chapter

Chapter 10: A dragon is here?!(1)

Summary—> Planning to save Raon and all of that stuff. Flashback scenes about the Henituse family, Cale promisss to get his five year old sister a great sword and no one questions it. Kim Roksoo didn’t show up for a bit and came back looking like shit which is brought up later

What’s important:

Stuff about the Henituse family.

Lily talking to Choi Han about her problems WHEN SHE WAS YOUNG(important cause she didn’t do that anymore after she got older lmfao)

Chapter 11: A dragon is here(2)

Summary—> the first half of the chapter is basically how saving Raon went in the novel with some extra dialog here and there. Cale and CH go on another date because Cale is lonely and he misses his friends and wants to see Kage and Taylor again.

What’s important:

There’s nothing important in the big scheme of things.

Kage and Cale r friends tho (guess I should say were)

Raon can see ghost Cale but because Cale is Cale he looks weird and scary like an actual ghost

A/N: tbh u could skip this chapter or just read a summary and nothing would change other than missing silly character interactions.

Chapter 12: Enjoy your youth(1)

Summary—> Cale goes to a noble meeting. We go back to earth for a flashback and find out why KRS looked like shit a few chapters ago(it was because someone was attempting to bully him but then Cale scared the shit out of the losers so it’s all good) anywho they all kinda settle into doing regular fun things and they all realize they had fucked up childhoods. They have fun and play around

What’s important:

Not much of mega importance this is just like a filler/fun chapter

Chapter 13: Enjoy your youth(2)

Summary—> Cale and KRS go to theme park and have a good time. More insight as to why KRS isn’t living with his uncle. KRS and Cale talk a little abt feelings(rare occurrence)

What’s important:

KRS originally being adopted at 14 instead of as a young child

That’s it.

Chapter 14: Getting to know you(1)

Summary—> character interactions happen, I can’t summarize all of that I’m sorry but um yeah there’s a lot of stuff about the original timeline in this chapter

What’s important:

Original timeline mentions

That’s it.

A/N; the summary for this one sucks but honestly this chapter while not super relevant is pretty important so um yeah live laugh love

Chapter 15: getting to know you(2)

Summary: Flashbacks to the past and KRS finds out CJS and CH are related because CH draws and records stories because he’s lonely and depressed and hates forgetting things important to him

What’s important:

Basen being a mage even though he’s not supposed to be (he’s not a master or anything he just learns it because he likes to study anything and everything)

Sacrificial tendencies

Okay that’s the end for now 🥹 the summaries got worse as time went on sorry about that HAHA , I’ll reblog this with the other chapters when I get the energy to continue. Anything that’s been in the ‘Whats important’ section is just kinda stuff to keep in mind. I’ll write abt the word building in another section. Tbh this mostly exists for me since I, the author, also forget a lot of things lol

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2024 No. 21 - Spirit possession

09/02/2018

With the teenagers' crucial discovery about yet another planet-destroying weapon that the X-Men needed to stop, yet the inevitable requirement of another few hours to sit idle this night before they could make a move of any kind … All Logan felt like doing right now, actually, was picking up with his wife in his bedroom what the red alert from the sick bay earlier had interrupted. Leaving behind all the shit out there for at least a short while before things would probably go down the drain once more. The Gods knew he'd been forced to do without that treasured comfort by his side for far too long.

Just when Jean and he had finished checking on the last of their teammates and their successors via Logan's wrist com though, letting the other X-Men know they would be unavailable until sunrise, the apartment door opened.

Since Logan had just secured the door frame display against access by anyone not living in these quarters, it wasn’t too hard to guess who was about to interrupt their badly needed privacy, though Noemi had actually made it very clear to Logan earlier that she wasn’t willing to spend any more time than necessary in their apartment in the foreseeable future. Not as long as someone was residing there whose guts she hated. Accordingly, she made it a point not to grant Jean as much as a single glance from the corner of her reddened eyes, hurrying toward the door to her room with tight lips. "Never mind me. Just running low on spare clothes."

"Noemi … Sit with us for a moment, please." Logan didn’t think he'd get used to this broken tone in Jean's usually so warm, deep voice anytime soon. She'd only ever been talking like that when the terror of the demon ruining all their lives for so long now had shaken her soul. Which was not something he wanted to be reminded of when they were just trying for a while to enjoy this repeated yet still so surreal gift of being reunited again, after one of Jean's painful demises.

Noemi, sadly, was entirely oblivious to this bone-deep grief and angst or even worse, couldn’t give less of a fuck about it. And from her point of view, Logan could hardly blame her. Especially after Jean had so dumbly rejected her in the sick bay earlier. "Fuck off."

"Language, Red." His strength reserves for even one more argument close to zero for the day, Logan wasn’t too surprised to find his hand shaking when he patted his shirt down for a cigar in a gesture of routine. No, not exactly how he'd pictured things to go in the past, in the unlikely case that Jean and he would ever get a shot at a normal family life with their kid. Then again, normal had been notoriously absent from their relationship from day 1.

"Fuck you, Dad," Noemi hissed, ignoring his wince as Logan reluctantly had to admit, maybe he should have listened more often to certain admonishments by his team leader about minding your words a little around minors, at least if you didn’t want them to get thrown back in your face at some point. "Little too late to teach me decency, don’t you think?"

"I only want to apologize, Noemi." Jean quickly spoke up again before the girl could storm into her room with clenched fists, very aware that this might be the only chance to at least get this off her chest before they'd all be wiped off the star maps tomorrow. "I only told you to leave before because I can't tell if I'm safe from her this time. I just know I’ll hurt you all over when I'm forced to leave you two again. You were right about one thing ... After the Scapels moon, I lived with nothing but fear, and now, too, it was the first thing I felt when I awoke. And I’m …" A sob so quiet Logan was sure only his enhanced senses could pick up on it broke from her lips when Jean buried her face in her hands for a moment, gratefully nestling against his hand on her neck. "… I'm so fucking tired of it. I want to give the three of us a chance, even if our time might be limited. Especially then."

Noemi's hand came to rest on the door display right above the opener button but contrary to Logan's resigned expectations, after so many failed attempts of this kind in the past, she didn’t press it, not yet. She wasn’t turning around either though, not surprising given the faint fragrance of salt heavier in the air by the second. Noemi didn’t like displaying weakness even to her own family. In that regard, just like in so many others, she was so much more like Jean than she knew. "You can’t just pretend you were never gone."

Jean made no move to get up and approach their daughter in any way. Only her frail shape was tensing under Logan's soothing caress up and down her back when she, too, sensed there might be at least a small glimpse of hope in the air there. "I don’t mean to. I just want to try and be a part of this family. A part of your life, of all the beautiful things you've achieved and become without me."

Noemi snorted and quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve, baring her teeth still without doing as much as looking back over her shoulder. "You know shit about me."

"That’s not true," Jean hurried to assure, her dark eyes shining with reigniting energy more by the second, finally, an energy that Logan had still failed to give back to her earlier when she'd fortunately stopped trying to bite him away just like Noemi. "I’ve been allowed to watch you guys sometimes from the Further ..."

Noemi finally spun around, almost making Logan wish she hadn’t for a moment, her whole body shaking with aggression, her pale round cheeks glowing in a warning shade of orange smothering on her body, the way she'd only threatened to lose control over her gift as an infant every now and then. Good thing this damn apartment had been made entirely fire-proof ever since then. "I’m not talking about Phoenix’ mind tricks. You never fucking bother to ask! You just think. You thought you couldn’t beat her. You thought the others couldn’t deal with it, couldn’t protect you, couldn’t drive her out. You thought Dad and I couldn’t take it, knowing your mind and soul were alive this whole time. And now you think we’re too weak to handle it when you piss off again. If you want to be free of her, get rid of her arrogance first. You don’t know anything, Jean Grey."

"Then tell me. Let me get to know you." Now Jean was pleading, help- and hopelessness growing, her grip on Logan's hand on her shoulder growing tighter, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak up himself, not even once. This was her own personal battle she had to fight, and if she didn’t succeed right now, before they'd all have to work together, overcoming enmities and sensitivities tomorrow … Then they might as well have called Mystique to freely give her the missing information about that weapon that the Brotherhood held in their hands, and then sit back and wait for this damn piece of rock to fall into particles.

"Why should I? I don’t know you." Noemi leaned back against her door with her hands shoved down the pockets of her jeans and her chin raised her eyes, her pupils still faintly glowing in defiance. But at least she wasn’t trying to leave anymore and that was already more than Logan could have hoped for five minutes ago.

If Jean wanted to make this catastrophe right, somehow, this might be the only chance to start, so Jean forced herself to let this open contempt ooze off of her, straightening up under Logan's arm around her shoulders, looking straight into these angry eyes that so eerily resembled her own back then when the light of her demon had burst out from deep within her. And yet, hopefully, were so very different from that dangerous state of possession. "For your dad's sake maybe? He’s dedicated his whole life to you."

"Dad is a slave of his love to you," Noemi replied harshly, the same incomprehension as ever dripping from her tone as she watched Logan rummage in his pockets for a damn lighter somewhere next, silently, with his jaw grinding and his eyes on the ground, unwilling to let himself be infected by these destructive dark emotions that he'd always been unable to cure his daughter from them. "All you ever did was hurting him and me. You never cared. You only ever thought about yourself."

"Now who’s assuming? You weren’t there." For the first time in this debate, Jean started to sound upset herself instead of just depressed and apologetic, and maybe that, too, was cynically healthy and necessary for a chance at healing. There'd been far too much unsolved tension never accumulating into a cleansing storm in this house in the last 15 years as it was.

Noemi threw her head back with a harsh chuckle, her fists clenching in her pockets, but with a small bit of relief, Logan could also scent that she had to blink more and more tears from her eyes, the iron wall of wrath and refusal starting to crumble. "Oh yeah, that’s right. So sorry I was only a day old when you pissed off from my life. So sorry I never got to know the so-called real you."

"Do you want to?" A surprising, almost scary calmness had spread in Jean's posture, in her gentle voice, one that Logan didn’t think he'd been able to sense in his wife ever since months before Alkali Lake. Noemi's last justified reproaches of all things seemed finally have to have uncovered something in the depths of Jean's shattered and arduously mended soul that she'd almost forgotten about, after having been used physically and mentally for nothing but destruction by an otherworldly immortal entity. When she reached out her hand to her daughter, it was no longer shaking the slightest bit.

Noemi had felt the change too and surprisingly enough didn’t tell Jean to go fuck herself right away once more. Maybe less out of the desire to solve this shitty situation, than out of the same sense of duty she'd early developed without Logan ever having to do much about it, long before she'd become the leader of her own small team. She knew just like him that with all this hostility between them, they'd be fucked in the fight waiting for them soon. If this reluctant knowledge that it was her job, making sure their chances would be as good as possible, was the only reason for her at least considering giving this reconciliation a shot, rather than a real yearning for a relationship with a mother she'd long decided she didn’t need in her life? Well, then Logan would gladly take that over these unbearable smashes of hatred being exchanged here right before his eyes. "How do I know you’ll show me the truth?"

Jean's hand came to rest on Logan's shoulder on her part now, coaxing him to leave his reserve position at last and accompany her when Jean cautiously stepped toward her daughter, keeping the last of respectful distance though. "I’ll keep the link to your father active. You’ll feel it in yours to him if I’m lying."

Noemi's lips tightened, her eyes on that narrow hand hovering in front of her, the disgust even at considering touching it plain to see … But then curiosity won, one of those notions she'd very clearly not inherited from the father's side of her family. "Whatever."

One hand firmly in Logan's, Jean was quick to reach for her daughter's with the other when it finally was raised, as if she was afraid – for good reason – that Noemi would change her mind again if she waited too long.

Part of Logan promptly wished she hadn’t, being thrown without warning right into that ocean of orange and green of their mental connection all the way, a sensation as if he was yanked from his body that never failed to have his stomach turn and make him sway on his feet unnervingly, the experience joined by the still so restless, still so unshaped flickering of the pure crimson red that was Noemi's presence this time … An event that under different circumstances, he might actually have enjoyed experiencing this time, knowing that the three of them were finally, after all this time, as closely joined in their consciousness as could be.

If only Jean hadn't been forced to use that joined link to have them all go through the darkest times of her life, of what little of their lives they'd had lived together.

From very far away, with that hated sensation as if he'd had cotton in his ears, his feral perception no longer only tethered to his physical shape, Logan could hear Noemi gasp in both shock and pain somewhere beside him, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but be angry with his wife himself, close to yell at her via that deep soul connection to stop right away. To tell her that Noemi didn’t deserve to go through this shit. That their daughter wasn’t ready for that completely unreal experience of having to feel in her head what a powerful telepath like Jean was putting in there in terms of the impressions left on Jean's nerve endings at any given point in time … And yet it was already far too late to stop it, now that the journey had begun, and part of Logan was still aware enough, luckily, of just how necessary it was to soldier through it. So he forced himself to keep his eyes open and swallow down the tightness in his throat when he understood, that burning and throbbing in his lower abdomen and in every single vein was what Jean had been waking up to this morning six feet under, as Phoenix had once more brought her body back to life.

A body not half as extensively healed as back then though when his wife had arisen from the floods of Alkali Lake for the first time, the damages she'd succumbed to at her last death still torturing her. It was a mercifully brief flash only, thankfully, Logan's mind darkening when Jean took Noemi and him further with her into her memory, showing them glimpses of those last few years that she'd been resting and healing in the Further, meditating to strengthen her mind against Dark Phoenix' mental tendrils trying to get hold of her again. Dull, daily efforts, hours over hours, without any real idea if it would ever even become necessary to use those shields in a real mortal shape ever again, a routine only occasionally broken by small breaks that Jean was allowing herself to let her gaze wander afar. To the planet and the people, she'd been forced to leave behind once more. To glimpses of a life that stung in her heart like a rusty poker every time and at the same time filled her with the bitter relief that she'd done the right thing, allowing her little family happiness without the dread of an everlasting threat hovering over them. An endless string of moments witnessed, of that deep affection, pride, and limitless trust shaping Logan's and Noemi's unbreakable bond more by the day, of all these steps of their daughter's on her way to becoming that headstrong, powerful, and incredibly empathic young woman she was today.

Like when Noemi had protected fellow members of her first training group in a Danger Room session as early as at five years old, from a painful fall down a simulated skateboard half pipe. How she'd been training her complicated powers every day over until they no longer threatened to burn anything down by accident, not least by lighting Logan's cigars every morning for breakfast with a small snapping of her fingers. Giggles in the sun in some waterpark at a slide race together with her best friend, tearful apologies over using her telekinetic gift without even meaning to, to further her chances in that little competition. Apologies in the shape of an allowance wisely spent on a round of ice cream for the two girls and beers for Scott and Logan. Desperate tears of loneliness in her father's arms after they'd dropped off Saskia and Scott in their apartment across the floor that night, to the welcoming arms of Saskia's mother waiting for them to hear the tales of her little girl from that exciting day. Questions there was never any good answer to every day at bedtime hour, until Noemi had stopped asking them at some point. A daily gaze up to the sky from the Mutant High roof, with tears glistening in Noemi's eyes.

The same that were running down her chubby cheeks when Jean said goodbye to her daughter under similar desperate sobs, putting her in Ororo's arms as the agony of lethal injuries were wrecking her body. A telekinetic field fading away from around Noemi's tiny shape that Jean had had used that day to protect her baby from the very same weapons of those Clean Mankind for God bastards that had ended her latest attempt of living without her demon. Dark Phoenix' mental hold seeping through the shields around Jean's soul like battery acid thanks to that protection being paper thin that morning, because the bigger part of Jean's mental powers, she'd used to protect Noemi's entirely defenseless mind against the very same influence of that fucking cosmic bitch.

This time Logan almost did feel himself topple over, only held by the instinctive telekinetic strength from two sides at once broadening his stance. The taste of bile burning in his mouth was almost unbearable at this point, cottoned sensations or not. So this was why. This was really how he'd lost Jean last time. And he hadn’t even fucking realized. The renewed hurt and disbelief didn’t entirely fade but at least was pushed in the background somewhat, soothed by a warm tenderness in his soul when it was now the images of those few hours before this horrible battle at Ontario Lake before his inner mind's eye. The endless car ride from the hospital home, shaped by the growing anxiety if they'd make it to the protection of their team in time before the enemy would find them. A tension they'd so desperately tried to not let their newborn daughter feel, with Jean holding that tiny pale body to her chest the whole time while Logan and she had been singing for their baby along to the radio so that she would remain asleep and not have to sense the fear for her wrecking her mother's mind.

A shaking, faint squeeze of his hand let him know, Noemi might finally, after all this time, just have understood why Logan had stopped finding any kind of joy in music long ago.

Back at the hospital. Limitless hate filling both Jean's and his soul as they hurried to the jeep as fast as Jean's condition, compromised from the early birth, would let her. The memory unshakable in their heads of why they were getting the fuck out of there, against every advice by doctors and their friends and teammates.

Alright, but really only another moment. She needs her bath. The brilliant smile of some auburn-haired haggard nurse with their child in their arms, trying to leave the room with the little one several times, only held back by Jean's desperate hold on her mind as his wife, long before Logan did, realized, something was terribly off about that woman.

Logan. Take Noemi. Now. Tell that bitch we need a few minutes alone with her. I'll try to make her leave. She's had telepath defense training; I'm hardly getting through to her. Distract her. Hurry. Jean's desperate, fearful pleading in his mind, not a bit less painful as back then, followed by the gruesome vision of that very same psychotic woman fantasizing in her head, even as she had a helpless infant in her arms, about how she would drown that baby in the next best sink the moment she was alone with it and fill the IV bag that Jean was hooked to with lethal medication.

A shriek of terror that might as well have come from Noemi's shocked mind as from one of theirs before Jean quickly took them both away from that moment, another few minutes back this time only, to comfort them over the horror so barely prevented that day. Showing them instead what had maybe the only moment between the three of them when they had been really happy as a family. I love you so much … Both of you … Jean, exhausted but happier than Logan had maybe seen her ever since before Liberty Island even, with her little girl in her arms, firmly snuggled into his arms as both her and his tears fell down on Noemi's beautiful little face. That one other day that he could remember when she had been similarly smiling for him like this, as it had become so rare since she'd become the unwilling vessel for that demon bitch. A kiss in the rain, a ring on her finger. Some images from between these two occasions, from Jean's sinewy body slowly rounding, camouflaging clothing no longer able to hide her condition from the critical eyes of the world. Lying next to each other in bed for hours, to escape that hostile scrutiny out there, her hands next to his caressing her belly. Impatient curses while trying to reassemble some damn cradle ordered online because shopping in person with the woman the world knew as the face of some insane fire demon, was a really shitty idea. Dark Phoenix' menacing glow in the garage of the New York Mutant Department as Jean was reluctantly using her enhanced powers once more to protect both Logan and the innocent being in her belly from aggressive bigots trying to take revenge for the destruction of their city. Limitless hate. Endless fear. Love stronger than both of these powerful sensations combined. The three dominating emotions in that broken beautiful mess that was Jean's soul.

When Noemi pulled back abruptly, tearing the three of them out of this incredibly intense joining, panting hard, the tears were openly on her face this time. It hurt … But at the same time, Logan didn't think he'd ever heard something as beautiful as that choked little sound on her lips that she'd never wanted to pronounce Jean's way her whole life. "Mom …" Her widened gaze went back and forth between Logan and Jean several times, beholding the way, Logan was tiredly burying his head against Jean's shoulder, still trying to process everything he'd just seen and suffered through once more while Jean on her part looked as if a huge weight had finally been lifted off her heart, now that a few things had finally been revealed that she'd not been able to bring herself to back then. And for good reason as Noemi, too, now had finally been made to see. "I … I think I get it now. But I … I can't … Not right away …"

"I would never ask you to." Not letting go of Logan for even a second, Jean reached out to Noemi again, and this time, Noemi took her hand immediately. "All I can hope for is a chance, little Firebug. And that the two of us can find the strength inside to protect this world from Dark Phoenix together, the way I was never able to alone."

Noemi nodded slowly, visibly still far too overwhelmed by all she'd just seen to consider such momentous questions again already. After a long squeeze of Jean's hand, she pulled away, burying both hands in her hair, slowly shaking her head. "This … has been a lot, guys."

"Take your time", Jean nodded, carefully pulling Logan back towards the sofa with her, to show Noemi that she was more than ready to give her daughter all the time she needed. "I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."

Again this shaky, uncertain nod, this gaze into emptiness. But for now, Noemi still didn’t make any move to vanish into her room or leave for her best friend's apartment as so often in the past when she'd needed distance from this incomplete, blurred picture in these quarters of a family she'd never had.

After a few moments of cluelessness as of how to show her daughter that she'd support her in this newfound confusion in all the ways Noemi wanted and needed it, Jean softly rested her lips on Logan's, motioning him to wait, and then went over to the elegantly polished black instrument that Katja had had delivered to this apartment not too long ago, as a thank you to Noemi for helping her break free from the possession by Emma's telepathic hold.

Promptly, Logan was left once more with his mouth hanging open, his damn cigar still dangling from his fingertips, forgotten, as another secret between his wife and him was revealed, albeit this one that didn’t hurt as much as what she'd let him in on earlier. Jean had never mentioned even once she could play the damn piano.

It had probably been some time, judging by her slightly clumsy movements and the occasional mistake … But the sound of that one melancholic jazz piece that Noemi had played for Logan back then before everything had gone to shit in New York once more, was still unmistakable. Yes, his wife had very obviously been watching them closely.

Once Noemi was done blinking her new surge of tears away, without a lot of success, she strode over to her mother on unsteady knees and bent over the stool without hesitation, resting her lip's on Jean's forehead for a long moment. When she pulled away, a faintly glowing spot remained on her mother's skin, just for a split second, before disappearing.

Jean gasped, entirely forgetting about finishing her little performance, her fingertips wandering to her head. "Noemi …"

"She will never get you again, Mom," Noemi said calmly, firmly, without the smallest doubt in her voice. "She will never destroy our lives ever again. I promised Dad that, and I hold to that."

For a long moment, she paused, looking back between Jean and Logan once more, taking a deep breath as she forced her heart, too, to at least start accepting the same thing of which she'd just coaxed her powerful gifts to help make sure, it wouldn’t just vanish from their lives right again. Not now, when they'd all finally managed to feel it for the first time. "So that one day, we might finally be able to live what the two of you started back then. Maybe. I can't promise anything yet, Mom."

"Your father and me, we've always rather been friends of keeping promises, anyway," Jean answered, still completely taken aback, wiping her eyes a couple of times before finally giving it up, just staring up shyly at her so very composed, powerful and big-hearted daughter. Her hands shyly folded in her lap, she was holding on to Logan's like a lifeline when he finally overcame his own surprise enough to come to stand behind her. "I know that can't mean a lot to you, Noemi but … I'm so unbelievably proud of you."

"I think I can live with that quite well." Noemi finally brought herself to smile, somehow, and it seemed genuine. The way she briefly reached out again to squeeze Jean's shoulder and flick Logan's cigar alight finally with an almost casual movement, said more than any dramatic embrace anyway. "I … think I need to be alone for a while now. And we should all be getting some rest before tomorrow."

"Your daughter is more reasonable than the two of us combined, James," Jean realized with a wry little grin.

"His and your daughter," Noemi corrected her dryly, rolling her eyes a little. "At least about that, there's never been any doubt. Oh, and speaking of it: Just so we're clear, same rules for you as for Ororo. Every time I can hear you two have sex, my allowance rate rises by five percent."

Logan finally gathered his wits back enough to show his daughter a very good-natured middle claw before Noemi left them alone with a mischievous little giggle.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

[thegreatobsesso]

electra snippet because!

I love this bit from my first WIP, The Insuppressible Electra Ray (currently querying!!!), but I'm posting it now because I want to show it to @space-writes as another piece of evidence that we are kindred souls. Shen's energy in that scene where he just graduated and is drunk off his elf ass is Electra's energy here and no one can tell me I'm wrong.

Electra POV

“Tastes like soap,” she complained, pushing the empty shot glass away on the nearest tabletop. “Blue soap bar from the dollar store. Six in a pack.”  “That’s a... weirdly specific thing to know the taste of.”  Oh, damn. That was a thought that should have stayed a thought and not been words. “Neeeeevermind,” she slurred, waving her hand at him, hoping to swat his curiosity away like a bug.  He shook his head in amusement. “If you even tell me you eat soap for some reason...?”  Sober Electra screamed in protest; if she was here she’d be waving a big neon sign that said, SHUT UP, DUMMY. But Sober Electra wasn’t here - all the vodka killed that boring bitch and now Drunk Electra was steering the ship!  Ship, ship - a drunken sea captain, eyepatch and peg leg, sailing straight into the eye of the storm. “My dad,” she said, vaguely aware of the silly grin she was probably wearing. Peter just looked at her like he was waiting for more.  Right! That wasn’t enough for him to understand the thing she was trying to say; she needed more words than that. All the noise around them faded in the way he was looking at her now. Why did she feel like she was gonna catch on fire when he looked at her?  “He used to say, when I mouthed off,” she continued, and then put on her best impression of him, “Ellie, I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” Stern and serious. Stupid. “And then sometimes, when I kept on sayin’ stuff he didn’t like, then he did.”  Even Drunk Electra knew to stop there because that train of thought pulled into the station at a bad place. Toot toot, next stop Damageville, where a thin, half-used bar of blue soap slides down your throat because of all the thrashing you were doing and then you can’t breathe. Dad’s fists under your ribs, trying to dislodge it, failing because it’s slippery.  Pulling magic out of yourself you didn’t even know you had.  The only time she ever actually moved something with magic, too. But now, with Peter, she was going to do it again. Dad had just cried and thanked God and called it a miracle.  What a fucking dumb ass.  “That sounds awful,” Peter said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”  She wasn’t uncomfortable. She felt like straight-up shit. She’d just been having fun, too. Now her mouth tasted like soap.  “It’s fiiiine,” she said, turning her head toward him way too fast and almost falling face-first into his lap. She caught herself with a hand on his chest, or, he caught her first by steadying her shoulders.  She was okay.  She was here now, wasn’t she? Jack-o-lanterns grinned from the windowsills and make-believe cobwebs blanketed the balustrades. If any spirits haunted the graduate tower tonight they were friendly ones and all the bad stuff was over and gone. The past was a bridge under water, or something.  “Maybe it’s time for bed,” Peter said. “How’s that sound?”  “It sounds so good,” she hummed. “I’m...”  She closed her eyes, imagining the nice thick blankets, curling up, cozy and comfy. “Mmm. I’m cold in here.”  Peter shrugged off his sweater jacket thing and held it behind her, leading her hands toward the holes. Then she let him put one of her freshly-sweatered arms around his waist to steady herself as they stumbled back to her room. 

This was one of those scenes where all I knew going in was that it had to result in the pass of that sweater, because that kicks a ton of other shit into motion later. But the real fun was the characters we tortured along the way!

I'll pop ye olde tag list in here for good measure :D

@avrablake​ @adie-dee​ @dontjudgemeimawriter​ @ryorine​ @thelaughingstag​ @winterandwords​ @afoolandathief​ @asomeoneperson​ @cedar-west​ @diphthongsfordays​ @lowslore​ @poetinprose​ @cilly-the-writer​​​​​​​​ @harps-for-days

[emdeedot45]

EmmaxAldon - To the Core

I loved the chemistry between these two in Fubar... couldn't resist writing a little something for them!

* * *

Emma sat on the steps outside the cabin, staring up at the stary sky. The past few weeks had been nothing short of weird.

After fleeing from the wedding, they’d ended up in a remote cabin the CIA had used as a safe house, while they awaited further instructions on what they needed to do next.

Standard procedure when your identity was compromised.

But that wasn’t really the weird part.

No, the weird part was the group of people she was with.

She had her team of course – her dad, Roo, Barry, and Aldon. Then there was her family too – her mom, Oscar, Romi and...

But then there was also Donnie and Carter. The two very unfortunate souls who were dragged into this complete shit show. They shouldn’t be here. Her worlds were colliding in uncomfortable ways, and she didn’t know how to handle it.

She’d worked so hard to keep Carter separate from her life in the CIA, and now it had all gone to shit.

But Emma was wiser now. Working with this team had somehow made her more self-aware. That she needed to own her decisions. That sometimes the ideals she built up in her head could never exist. Should never exist.

And that maybe the ideal wasn’t what she thought it was. Maybe the ideal was something else entirely. Something that had caught her completely off guard.

“Penny for your thoughts, Brunner?”

Emma turned her head and saw Aldon standing behind her, his hands shoved in his pockets.

There was no doubt that his stupid cute face was an ideal – especially when he looked at her like that.

She shook her head before turning back to look at the stars, “You don’t want to know.”

She heard the wood decking creek behind her before Aldon lowered himself down beside her. “Try me.”

Emma sucked in a breath, “I am... thinking about love.”

“Love?”

Emma turned to look at him with a teasing smile, “Yeah, love. You know that intense feeling of deep affection for someone or something—”

The corner of his mouth slowly tipped up, his eyes scanning her face.

Emma gulped.

How could his light perusal send her into an internal spiral? She was a spy for gods sake! She should be calm.

Then again, her dad was a prime example of how love had no rules. It wasn’t something we could ever control no matter how hard we tried. No matter how hard we tried to make love fit a mould that suited us.

“I know what love is, Emma.” Aldon responded quietly, his eyes still firmly on hers. “My mom always told me that love should rock your world to its core. It should rock it in a way you don’t ever want to come back from.”

“That’s pretty profound pooh bear. Didn’t you tell me that the only way to do this job was to not get attached to other people?” She said with a light laugh.

Aldon lifted a shoulder, “Just because I’ve never experienced love – or I’ve chosen not to experience it – doesn’t mean it doesn’t or cannot exist. Maybe it’s sometimes worth the risk. But I’m definitely open to have my world rocked.” He finished with a wink.

Emma let out a playful scoff and rolled her eyes. Trust Aldon to turn something sweet into something sexual. She knew in that moment that the CIA’s very own HIMBO struggled with vulnerability – and it was all too relatable.

He did have one up on her, however. He had been open with her in that bunker and in the aftermath. Talking about his past and his choices. About how she was making him rethink those choices. About how she was worth the wait.

And what had she done? Thrown it all in his face. Showing such little regard for his feelings. He wanted to be a choice, not an afterthought.

She wanted him to be a choice too.

And she knew that he could be.

“I think I liked the idea of Carter.” She blurted out, kind of unexpectedly. She figured if she’d started, she may as well continue. “Stability, normality, calm. I tried to force him into this ideal of what I wanted my home life to be but it just – it doesn’t exist. It can’t exist. Not in my world.”

“I think you can still have all of those things in this job. You just have to have it with the right person.” Aldon replied.

“I’m not sure what the right person could be in this job.”

“When you know, you’ll know.” Aldon replied with such conviction in his voice.

Emma looked at him. How could someone who had never experienced love be so sure? Then again, she wasn’t exactly a good example of what it looked like to love someone. What did she know?

“I’m really sorry, Aldon.”

Aldon raised a brow, “Looks like I’m the next stop on the Emma Brunner apology tour.”

She chuckled, “Looks like it. I was unfair to you. I used you without any regard for your feelings and I lied about it afterwards. It did mean something to me. I’m just still working out what.”

Aldon slowly nodded, “Maybe it’s the start of a love that will rock your world to its core.” He replied with a grin.

Emma let out a breathy laugh, “I think it would take a lot to rock my world given the life I live.”

Aldon stood up, walking a few paces in front of her. He turned around and placed his hands on his hips. “Challenge accepted.”

Emma was stunned to silence. This man was something else. Arrogant, indecent –

Who was she kidding?

He was confident, thoughtful, protective, sexy – and he just got her. He knew what she needed, and he understood her heart. Her flawed heart that just needed some work to get in the right place.

To get in the right place to love someone like they deserved to be loved.

“You’re confident. I’ll give you that.”

That was all Emma had in her to reply in that moment. The rest had to wait.

“I told you that you were worth waiting for, Emma. But that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a little nudge in the right direction.” He commented before he turned and started to walk away. He paused and turned around again, “How do you feel about being serenaded?”

Emma snorted, “Don’t you dare.”

Aldon nodded, “Hm. Thought so.” He teased with a wink before walking away again.

Man.

She was in trouble.

[jvngkook97]

The Red Peony - ver. ii

pairing; idol!jungkook, dad!jungkook x non-idol!reader, mom!reader

genre; angst, fluff, slice of life, chubby bunny family au, established relationship, domestic au, Hiro is 16 + Aera is 11

warnings; talk of a woman’s menstrual cycle, mentions of blood, emotional koo who just wants his princess to stay young forever

rating; 18+

w/c; 1,700

a/n; SURPRISE. originally I made two versions of this, the first one mainly being from the reader’s POV, but this one will reflect more on Jungkook’s. Since I know some of y’all were disappointed with how little JK was in the first one, hope it makes sense now why I made it that way! Reader will still be there for support ofc, but not so much centered around her. It’ll take place after the interview seen worldwide when he comes home. So Aera would’ve already received the talk from her mother. You don’t necessarily need to read the other version if you don’t want too, but it would help clear up a few aspects in this one.

He stood outside the entrance to his home, the sun barely coming up to signal a new day. The porch light still being the main source of lighting for him to stick his key in and unlock the door. Duffel bag slung over his shoulder with one hand, he gently pushed open the door with his other, careful not to make too much noise and wake up the occupants he’s sure are still asleep in their beds. You, Hiro and his little girl, Aera.

Though she’s not so little anymore, is she? He thought somberly. He knew in his heart, body, mind and soul that he was not ready to let her grow up yet. Unfortunately, it wasn’t up to him to decide.

Setting the duffel bag on the entryway table that currently held miscellaneous items on top of it, he reached back through the threshold of the door and grabbed the other bag he carried. One that held various items for his daughter. But also a few souvenirs for his wife and son. A tradition he does with every trip they don’t get to attend with him.

Placing the bag next to him on the floor within the entryway, he softly closed the door and locked it. Hanging his keys on the key holder and shuffling off his jacket that he hung up on the coat rack located in the opposite corner of where the entryway table is. Reaching down he took off his shoes, switching them out for his house slippers. Straightening back up, he opted to leave his duffel bag for now, and just grab the souvenir bag, carrying it to the kitchen where he set it on the island located in the middle of the kitchen.

He noticed another bag that was on the kitchen table, a few steps away from where he was. His curiosity peaked, he took the few steps over and ruffled through the bag to examine its contents. He realized that it was mainly Aera’s favorite junk food. Ah, he thought knowingly, must be for her cravings. You were the same way when Mother Nature came to visit you. So he was well aware with what associated with the curse as you liked to call it personally.

God, he couldn’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you, love you. But you had to wait. Right now, his daughter was his sole focus.

Slipper clad feet shuffled down the seemingly long hallway, where they stopped in front of a closed artsy flower covered door, courtesy of a project done by him and Aera.

Unlike Hiro, who favored to hone his skills and love of dancing, Aera was more into further developing and exploring her art skills. A trait he’d like to take full responsibility for, but he knows that you hold your own as well with drawing.

You may not do it much anymore with not having a lot of free time on your hands, but when you first met, many years ago, it used to be your favorite hobby. He’ll have to help out with the kids more once promotion is over, and talk with you about whether or not you’d like to still pursue the same hobby of yours. Maybe you two could collab on a new design for the BTS kids collection that will be announced early on next year, knowing your art style would better reflect those of a younger audience.

And it would give him an excuse to have some alone time with you. Something you two have been bad about making time for ever since the kids were born. He vowed to himself solemnly that he would make it happen, he had too.

Clutching more firmly to the various items in his arms, he slowly turned his daughters doorknob with one hand and gently pushed it open. Peaking through the crack in the door, he could see their blob of a daughter nestled under the blankets. He could then see the heating pad cord hang off the side of the bed, glad that you were there to coax her through the pain and able to teach her how to take care of herself until the period was over for the month.

You were such an amazing mom, he thought blissfully. And equally as amazing wife, the way you’ve so flawlessly raised their now two kids into responsible young adults. He never would’ve been able to do it without you. Smiling to himself at the thought of you, he blinked out of his trance when he heard shuffling coming from the blob underneath the heaps of blankets. He stopped in his stride next to the bed and waited with bated breath for your daughter to wake up. She never did, just shifted her position, now laying on her side, facing towards where he stood next to the bed.

Carefully, he set the pile of various items on the nightstand he was closest too, trying not to make any noise in fear of waking Aera up. He inwardly sighed with relief upon the last item, a new set of expensive colored pens from the brand your daughter loved and has been asking for, being placed down without a hitch.

Stepping out of his house slippers, Jungkook grabbed the extra throw blanket that lay on the end of your daughter’s bed and gently laid his body sideways on top of the galaxy covered duvet, next to your daughter. Laying his head down on what little pillow Aera unknowingly offered, he faced her with his hands clasped in front of him after settling his own throw blanket on top of him.

Then, he just looked at her.

His princess. His baby girl. Who wasn’t a baby anymore, technically, but would always continue to be his baby girl until the day he died.

He didn’t know he was crying until a quiet sniffle made its way out of his nose, and tears started to blur his vision. Lip quivering slightly. He wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t ready, he thought despairingly.

Aera continued to sleep peacefully, unaware of the state her father was currently in, only inches away from her sleeping body. It was better that way, he thought. He needed to be strong for her and act as normal as possible once she woke up. And if she wanted to talk with him about anything, like she knows she always can, he would be there for her. Ready, with a listening ear.

You tiptoed into your daughter’s room, careful not to wake her up, but wanting to comfort Jungkook. Having woken up from your slumber in your shared room down the hall only minutes ago, you first saw your daughter’s door open. It was then upon closer inspection, did you hear the sniffles your husband tried so hard to keep quiet and under control, and knew that he needed you, or rather, your presence.

Getting closer, you could see the pile he left on her nightstand and smiled inwardly at the love Jungkook had for his daughter. It made you love him even more, something you didn’t think was possible.

With Jungkook taking up what remained of the bed, him barely fitting on it himself, you had no choice but to kneel on the floor next to his side of the bed. Not that you minded in the least bit, knowing he needed this moment more than you did to stay sane. Having your own special mother, daughter time with her the day prior.

Gently, so as not to spook your oblivious husband, you laid one hand on top of his fluffy hair and started to massage his scalp, the other softly landing on his clasped hands, squeezing them tenderly. Your head came to rest in the crook of his neck, cheek brushing against his shoulder as you joined him in staring lovingly at your daughter. A few tears of your own managing to slip out without you noticing. Guess you still harbored some inner feelings of your own towards the matter.

Jungkook turned his head slightly towards you, an invitation to give him a sweet kiss on the lips, which you did in a heartbeat. He uttered a small ‘I love you’ into the comfortable silence that befell you both. You kissed his cheek lovingly in response, knowing that he knew how deeply your love was for him already. And you would be sure to show him at a later time in the confines of your closed bedroom door when the kids go out later to the park you’re going to casually suggest they visit with their friends for a couple of hours.

You two always thought your children never knew the underlying reason for the sudden interest in the park, but you would be wrong. They knew. Or, well, he knew. His sister was still too young for the birds and the bees talk which he received from his parents on separate occasions once he turned sixteen, both having their own opinions and views on the matter. And you better believe he would much rather be playing some random game at the park with his friends and little sister, than stay at the house while you two made love.

Unbeknownst to the husband and wife, your son Hiro, watched the scenario unfold with his own eyes. Having been awake himself for a mere five minutes now, due to a Mother Nature of his own calling him from his sleep to use the bathroom. On his way back to his room a few doors down, he noticed his mom slip through his sister’s door and got curious. Which led him to the sight he now saw before him. Leaning against the doorframe, arms folded and legs crossed, he stayed silent, adorning a small smile on his face. He hated, yet at the same time, loved, the way you two were still borderline sickeningly in love with each other. A love he hopes to find for himself way later down the road. And for his sister as well.

His family? Not perfect by any means.

But it was his. And he couldn’t be happier.

[chippedaxe]

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

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Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

[let-me-take-your-soul]

Hallo!! You have requests open, right? If you still do, here's one for you to tackle if you'd like. Kid is, essentially, the physical manifestation of death, right? So I'd like to imagine he just. Doesn't breathe. Or doesn't have to, and only does so to calm himself down or something. He also doesn't give off body heat and doesn't thermoregulate, and his BPM is like, 30 on average. So in a friend outing with the others, maybe just going into how he feels lonely? Like, he's surrounded by friends, but they don't really know how it feels to be HIM. AKA, an excuse for him to hug his dad and ask for comfort :)

Yessss!! I had to reach back into my own feelings that I used to have in regards to slight social paranoia for this lol

I think it worked pretty well for the theme we've got here!

DTK feeling isolated from his friends

CW for angst and paranoid thoughts

He never fully realized just how cold he was to others. Not necessarily in an emotional way (though he was aware of that too), but physically, Kid’s body was much colder than his friends. 

It was no secret who his father was, everyone knew the second he enrolled at the academy that Lord Death was his father. It just never occurred to Kid exactly how different this made him in comparison to his friends- to humans.

Even when Liz and Patty made comments to him about how cold his hands were when they were in weapon form, Kid never really made the connection that it was so abnormal. It wasn’t until Black*Star made a comment after a high five that his differences really became apparent to him.

“Yo, Kid, your hands are freezing!”

Black*Star’s comment led to all of his friends making claims of “I’m sure he’s not that cold” and then immediately taking it back after they grabbed his hand to confirm.

“Oh my god, Kid! You feel like a corpse!” Maka exclaimed.

“I can’t imagine being so cold all the time. Is that a Shinigami thing? What else is different about Shinigamis?” Soul had asked.

"Ah, well… my pulse is lower than most. I'm sure that contributes to my unusually cold body. My average heart rate is about 30 bpm"

"30?! That's crazy!"

His friends poked and prodded at him with questions, and though he knew it wasn't their intention, it started to bother him. Eventually the group moved on to a different subject, but Kid couldn't bring himself to contribute much anymore. He was overcome with a deep feeling of loneliness that he couldn't seem to shake. 

  "They can't truly connect with me. If my body exists in such a different way than theirs, how different is the way I experience friendships? Do I do too little to show them I care for them? Am I too overbearing? Maybe they’re just too afraid to treat me poorly and the time we’ve spent together is just a joke to them” Kid thought to himself.

The sudden barrage of negative thoughts concerned him and he took a deep breath to ground himself. He avoided telling his friends that breathing was something else almost unnecessary for him. Kid fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat as he watched his self-proclaimed friends laugh and banter with each other.

“Pardon me, but I have some business to attend to with my father. Thank you for inviting me today” Kid excused himself.

He stood up as the group sent him off with polite goodbyes and Kid made his way home, making a beeline to his father’s office.

.

.

.

Kid wasn’t one to be timid, but talking to his father about any blow to his own self esteem was still a hard topic to discuss. He reached out and quietly knocked on the office door in front of him, partially hoping there wouldn’t be an answer even though the rest of his brain knew that an answer was everything he needed.

“Heyo howdy! Come on in, Kiddo!” 

Kid smiled at the cheery voice of his dad and walked into the office, starting to feel at ease almost instantly. He sat down in a large plush chair, slumping into more than he thought he would.

“Oh my, you seem rather serious right now. Did something happen?” Lord Death’s tone immediately softened. 

“It was a bit of a rough day” Kid said, “I got a swift reminder of how different I am from the humans you want me around and there’s no way to describe it other than ‘it sucked’,”

Lord Death listens intently, nodding along as Kid relays the experience of his friend's questions and that harsh feeling of isolation with each major difference he shared with them.

“I don’t know if being around humans is a good idea for me, father. They’ll just stress themselves if they keep acting like I’m their friend”

“Oh but Kid, they are your friends!” His father looked rather surprised at this comment, “Why would you think that they aren’t your friends?”

“There’s clearly something off about me. I haven’t found out what it is yet that clues them in to how inhuman I am, but there’s no way they have me around for any reason but pity” Kid huffs.

“Did you hear one of them say that about you?” his father asks.

“Well… no.”

Kid stays quiet, trying to remember everything he’s heard his friends say about him, but nothing negative ever comes to mind.

“You know Kiddo, it can be hard to trust the relationships you’ve built with others. That’s actually a very human experience”

Kid perks up.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“There are so many people who are constantly scared that the people who care most about them stay around out of pity or any other number of reasons. This is a common thought rooted in anxiety. It’s almost never true though. People are usually pretty obvious when they don’t actually like someone. It can still be scary though, right?”

“Incredibly,”

“Here’s a piece of advice for you, then: try to take it at face value,”

Kid squints at his father, urging him to elaborate.

“Not everything is as complicated as people may think. Most of the time, a compliment is just a compliment, an invite is just an invite, and a friendship is friendship, not an ulterior motive. When your thoughts overwhelm you with ‘what ifs’ and thoughts that everything is a lie, you can fight back against those thoughts. Remind yourself that people like to say what they mean, and if they don’t say what they mean, then it is not a problem within yourself, but a conflict between your own morals and theirs. It’s also good to remind yourself that even if there’s a conflict between your morals, that it doesn’t mean there are not people who share your values. Humanity is vast, and if one person isn’t a fit for you, that doesn’t mean the next person who comes along won’t be!”

Kid listens intently, letting his fathers words sink in. He takes another deep breath, then stands up.

“You’re right, father. Thank you for listening. I do think that the friends I’ve made are good ones and that I was looking deeper into a situation that didn’t mean more than curiosity.”

“I’m always here to help, Kiddo,”

Kid turns to leave, feeling lighter than before, but is stopped by a small “wait!” from his dad. He turns back around to see his dad’s large hands outstretched and Kid holds back a small laugh at how childish his father looked.

He walks back to Lord Death and hugs him, happy that the two of them seem to be growing closer than before. This is what Kid had imagined it must truly feel like between a human child and their father too. He hugs his dad just a bit tighter, deciding that he would start noting what does make him similar to humans rather than what isolates him.

[scarletwidowaf]

Yelena Belova x reader “fake dating” to actual!!!!

Plssssss :) 🥲💛

Moral Of The Story

Yelena Belova x female reader, scarlewidow mentioned.

A/N: might be messy, might be cheesy, but I truly don't care because I live for this chaotic due.

warning: stupidity maybe

words: 2000ish- probably more. 

masterlist

You don't know how but somehow training with Yelena always ended up with you being pinned down on the training mat.

"Fuck" you cursed frustrated as she pinned you down for the 3d time in a row. Yelena laughed before she stood up and held out her hand for you to take.

"I let you win!" You said as she pulled you up.

"Sure you did" she joked.

"Seriously. I let you stomp on my dignity because I have a favor to ask!" you said back, a goofy grin playing on your lips as you passed her one of the water bottles.

"Now, that's gonna be interesting" she said as she sat on the floor, her back facing the wall. She gratefully took the bottle from your hand as she waited for you to talk.

"be my girlfriend" you said. The two of you were always comically stupid, so of course that you said that at the same moment she was taking a gulp from her bottle and of course she choked- and of course you laughed.

"I'm Sorry" the blonde glared at you.

"You're not" she responded in between coughing.

After a few moments, she finally stopped coughing and your laugh dyed out as well.

"You're right. I wasn't." You laughed again and she shoved you playfully.

"So, did you seriously just asked me to be your girlfriend?" She asked. Her lips forming her famous-troubled-maker cheeky grin.

"Well.. my fake girlfriend to be exact" you corrected yourself and she laughed again.

"You know you could've started with that, right?"

"And what's the fun in that?"

You smirked at her, knowing full well she found the random question amusing.

"So Why me, anyway..? - Wait, Let me guess.. kate and carol said no and you're scared of Wanda?"

"Okay first I'm not scared of Wanda, I'm scared of your sister.. there's a difference. And Second; my parents in town.. and I kinda told them I have a girlfriend.."

"Oh, now that's classic" Yelena, obviously, found the situation hilarious and you couldn't blame her since you found this dumb conversation amusing as well.

"Does it mean you'll do it?" You asked.

"Yeah why not" she responded you raised an eyebrow at her waiting for the catch. With Yelena, there's always a catch or at least a stupid comment.

"Yeah. I want to meet the poor souls who had to deal with your stupidity on a daily basis for the last 20 years..."

And here it is. You thought.

"I will punch you" you threaten her.

"Kinky" she smirked.

"Whatever stupid. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8" you said as you got up from the spot next to her.

"Wear something nice"

_______________________________

The thing about Yelena is that you can never know what to expect. No matter how much time you spent with her, and it was a lot, she somehow still managed to surprise you.

This time was no different. but in her defense, this time the blame is definitely on you. You saw Yelena wear different kinds of outfits, from gear to fancy dresses, yet for some reason, you just didn't expect the other girl to wear a suit, and damn she looked good.

The gray suit fit her perfectly and her long blonde hair was down. She looked painfully beautiful and you couldn't help but stare- and she couldn't help but notice.

She wasn't doing better, on your defense. The blonde checked you out shamelessly before she sent you a smirk "How lucky I am" she joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Very lucky.. and so am i" Yelena smiled at you and held her hand out for you to take.

The ride was short and 15 minutes later you were standing outside the restaurant.

You could feel Yelena's gaze on you as you bit your lip nervously. "It will be alright" she assured you as she interviewed your hands together. "Thank you" you looked at her gratefully "Don't sweat it" she replayed with a soft smile.

That was the thing about Yelena, people always misguided her for someone she wasn't and it always made you mad. God, Of course, she was strong and fierce and brave and absolutely terrifying at times- but She was so much more than that. She was sweet and loyal and caring, and kinda funny (don't tell her) and absolutely beautiful- inside and out. One of your favorite things about her was her shy and sincere smile, which seemed reserved only for you.

"You ready?" She squeezed your hand. you took a small shaky breath before smiling back at her. "As ready as ill ever be"

The restaurant wasn't busy and it didn't take you long to catch your parents in a corner in the far back of the room. Both smiling wide as you walked towards them. Your mother's smile was contagious and you couldn't help but smile back. God, you missed them.

"We've missed you so much" your father said as he hugged you, your mother doing the same.

"I've missed you too" you confessed before tugging Yelena forwards them.

"I'm assuming that's the girlfriend," Your father said and you nodded. God, You were nervous and Yelena could sense it as she reached for your father's hand.

"Yelena." She introduced herself As they shook hands. Her grip firm and her smile dazzling. "I'm Y/D/N and this is my wife Y/M/N" he introduced himself as well.

"Glad to finally meet you. I heard a lot of great things about you" She said with a confident smile.

Both of you could tell the older man was impressed by the blonde and you couldn't help but smile.

"Were happy to finally meet you as well- although we can't say the same since pumpkin over here hasn't said much about you"

Yelena smirked at you as you blushed deeply. You knew she wouldn't let you forget about the nickname. Like, never. "Yeah, it's actually pretty new. It wasn't really planned neither" she explained.

Your mother, God bless her, wasn't the one to shook hands. The moment Yelena was free from your father's grip she found herself in the woman's warm embrace.

"Okay... I think we should start ordering" you said when Yelena was free again. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. The Russian Assassin wasn't used to be hugged and you couldn't help but smile.

The conversation was light, the wine was good and most importantly, your parents loved Yelena. which was understandable considering the fact she was annoyingly charming.

The Yelena that sat next to you with her hand on your lap was the best version the blonde could pull and you felt stupid for being worried in the first place. Yelena led the conversation with politeness, charm, and grace that you never knew she had in her- and your mom seemed impressed. Impressing your dad was even easier- Yelena didn't even have to try, all she had to do was show her intelligence and add some light humor.

After an hour of light and mostly general conversation, amazing food, many embarrassing stories of you on both sides, and 2 glasses of wine, your mom decided to take the conversation into her hands.

"So Yelena. Tell us about yourself."

Oh boy. Now that might be a problem.

"Well... I joined the avengers a few months ago" she explained "Not long after I met your daughter actually," she said simply.

"That's nice, and before that?" The older woman asked.

"I was a freelance.." Yelena gulped. Her hand squeezes yours

"As?" Your mom asked. You knew she didn't try to push Yelena into this corner, she wasn't this kind of person, but she definitely put the blonde on the spot.

"Well... I was involved with the black market and different criminal organizations. Jobs like getting undercover to dig information or well.. getting rid of powerful men in the criminal world.."

Your parent's eyes went wide. Your dad stared at her with wide eyes and your mom cleared her throat.

"I don't do it anymore" she continued. The blonde seemed as nervous as you felt.

"How did you ended up in this line of work? If I may ask?"

"Mom I don't think-" you started and Yelena smiled at you.

"No, It's fine babe.." she said before moving her attention back to your parents "Sometimes life gets you to places where you have to do bad things to survive."

Your dad's expression was unreadable and your mom seemed worried as she glanced at you.

"Yelena and I met when her sister recruited and pulled her out of this life. Yelena is a good person, despite everything she's been through. That's what I love the most about her." You said.

Yelena smiled softly and your parents exchanged looks.

"I'm a different person now" Yelena promised

"We believe you... but I can't help but worry for my daughter, as you can surely understand. What if the people you've been involved with. Try to get to you through Y\N"

Your father asked calmly. Both were taking it better than you expected and you couldn't blame them for being worried.

"Dad. I know it might come as shocking.. but I'm a big girl and I'm well aware of the risk of being involved with Yelena. I need you to trust me when I say that risks, some worse than the mafia, were a part of my life long before we met."

Yelena bit her lip to hold a smile and you interviewed your hands again.

"You're a doctor" your mom argued "I'm a field doctor. Of the avengers." you corrected her. "which means I'm more of capable of taking care of myself."

Your dad nodded softly to your mom before he smiled at you. "You're are.. Don't you?" He laughed. "Mu little pumpkin.." he sIgh and your mother smiled as well

"I just want you to understand that all we want for you is to be safe and happy. And even a blind man can see Yelena gives you that." He sent Yelena a soft smile. Yelena smiled back at him.

"Take care of my daughter.. she's a keeper" your father said firmly.

"She is. And trust me, I will" she promised.

_______________________________

"Well, that went well" you laughed when you got into the passenger seat. Yelena volunteered to drive which was a relief since you were exhausted.

After the two of you got into your seats the blonde sent you a small smile and took something out of her pocket.

"Is that? A bullet..?" You asked confused as you took the copper cylinder from her hand.

Yelena laughed softly.

"It is. It's the same bullet you stopped me from shooting at Natasha"  she confessed.

"I was in such a bad place back then and I blamed Natasha for it. If it weren't for you things would've been very different now" Yelena whispered

"Yeah, both of you were dead since you would've shot her, and Wanda would've probably hunted you down and kill you" you laughed and Yelena's shoulders relaxed.

"Probably" she said. "But with all seriousness... I was aiming a gun at my own sister and instead of pulling your own gun at me, you decided to shield her with your own body and dare me to shoot you as well. Who does that!?."

"You thought I was insane" you laughed.

"I thought you were stupid, putting your life at risk to save someone fucked up like us! someone like me.." She confessed and it downed on you.

No matter what happened or how many good things Yelena had done in her life, she couldn't let go of who she was trained to be. She still blamed herself for all the terrible things she did back at the red room and she constantly tried to get closure by doing the exact opposite- which was probably the reason she killed all these bad men in the first place. But then Natasha came back for her, and Yelena blamed her for leaving her behind to live with the things they did. She felt betrayed and broken, and Natasha's return only made it worse. Like she was just pitting her broken sister.

"All I know is that the Yelena I stood up to and the Natasha I saved that day were not the villains the red room tried to create." You whispered.

"You truly believed that? Even then?" Yelena was crying softly and you cupped her cheek.

"Especially then! I know you don't see it, but I'm here to remind you, you're a good person. Truly. You have a good heart- and I've seen it"

Yelena's cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes red and puffy and her famous crooked smile was plastered on her lips.

"And that's why you love me?"

She was a mess just like back then- when she was aiming a gun at her own sister as who she thought she was and who she truly is were fighting for dominance.

She was tragically beautiful and scared both then and now, yet somehow at the same time, she was more sure and confident than ever before. And I guess that what life is all about. Sometimes, things start to make sense only when everything else doesn't.

"Wasn't it obvious, stupid?" You said and stroked her cheek carefully as she melted into your touch.

Yelena smiled before kissing your hand softly, without breaking eye contact with you.

"You're the stupid one and you know it. Taking an assassin as your dinner date." She joked and you nodded and looked briefly at her lips.

"Well, stupid or not, I still manage to get a kiss at the end of it." Yelena laughed and got closer to you.

"Yeah you did" she whispered and kissed you.

And that was the thing about Yelena. She was good and kind and loyal. And a damn good kisser.

[cyanidemind]

what used to be three or four day episodes has now all of a sudden returned to the persistent gloom. the bright spots are fewer and even in them, the clouds block the brightness. even though i came in kindall and cuddled for days she still got up without a word twice at night and left the snuggles, and i don't care who she fucks, but i care who i care about, and i hate knowing that there are seeds of love that will go unwatered because distance and damage are again next to me. two years ago i saw brooke and her original woman hips and how she filled a dress the way honey fills a jar and i didn't care for her dog but i knew i could fall for her, so i did something i never do and i said well god if you're here, how about this, let this union come to fruition and i'll repair what broke with my mother and go further. but of course logic says you should not need an incentive to fix something if you want it fixed, and of course the faithful say god won't give you what you want unless you deserve it, and of course selfishness is at the root of my soul so naturally i got nothing in return. velez was married and ignored, and i wanted to send her back to her dead bedroom dripping and bruised, but she ghosted me. the other married woman, same thing, same scenario, same outcome. krystal gave me two nosferatus in an act of decency i didn't expect, but that doesn't erase infidelity. why didn't izzy let me ravage her like we planned? why did michelle cower at the foot of her domineering mom and why does she now have to kneel at her dad's grave? why'd bunnie leave after stringing me along for months, why was ash a man who clearly can't handle his own sexuality, why would vinita want her ex, why'd ava hold my hand, why'd rose choose pussy, why'd caitlin not want to try again, why'd shauna flee, why'd liz go elsewhere, why'd rey call me every night past midnight for hours and then suddenly go radio silent, why'd chloe hang up on me after a heartfelt talk even though i tried to find her a job so she could sleep easier, why'd two or three hundred other women treat me as disposable or try to get me to pay? what happened to kelly and pickle, her cat, and why did alice have to be real but a flake? why did i have to lose that game of darts when i know i'm better? why have i been missing layups? i have no one to cook for but myself, no reason to clean my room and no reason to shower and no reason to go anywhere. lives are now lived in tandem or away from me. rosie, aahoo, angele, olivia, yas, shivangi, julie. faces in the crowd now. i am an intruder too often in marriages, and now i am hyper aware of being unwanted or taken in small doses like i'm the oldschool green death nyquil. of being disregarded. how many people did i send this script to and how many got back to me? how many people were supposed to give feedback on these stories and i got none? i'm hungry so often and i don't want to eat because i do not like feeling fat and ugly. i'm disappointed so often that nothing is accepted. i spend too much money on restaurants. i have all these little nagging injuries. i don't know the last time someone came up behind me and hugged me. i am not in any weddings. the family i had here that i saw all the time has now dwindled and severed and left in so many directions that i am saddened to have to feel that same thing all over again as if the removal of one family wasn't bad enough. the one person i wanted more than anyone to share everything with and bask in the fact that we beat all of the awfulness that turned us into the shattered people we were is dead and i haven't felt close to whole since. the good things and the good days are here in miguel visiting and in my continual dart and ball improvement and in my consistency in writing this fiction and in my skill in the kitchen and in my cats and in health and wealth. selfishness and isolation say that i will succeed and i will succeed alone. but my god i do not want to write these books with no dedication pages, i do not want to go on a tour with no one making the hotel less lonely, i do not want to peresevere and pat my own back, fall asleep holding my own hand, and keep making meals for one.

[hohoz]

How RE Village (8) SOLVED almost every problem that I had with RE Series

Okay - a few weeks ago I made a post that was “The ones that suffer the most” where I showed and explained my main problems with Chris and Jill and the RE series in general 

RE 1 is my fav game of this series and probably one of my all time favs, I player every RE there is to be played except 4 (because I dislike Leon, sry) 

Recently, specially after 4, the franchise had a few problems, specially in writing/map design/lore 

Resident evil 5 for example (I love this game) but it has it flaws, Chris there is only driven by anger and action - Sheva is used as a tool for lore exposition and to be Chris’s new partner 

PLEASE: be aware that game at that generation didn’t have much lore - with some exceptions, like God of War 1 2 3 were a simply game with a simple lore, and the most recent GoW has evolved a little bit in the storytelling

Until we hit rock bottom in RE6 - I know a lot of people like this game, but this is only and action game, bad writing and generic stages. 

Chris there is so mistreated that makes me mad (if you want to read more about this go to my other post “the ones that suffer the most”)

Until RE7 appeared, Capcom had a new engine and they wanted to do a game that was more horror like - since RE is know for being a Survival horror game.

I liked 7 - some people complained about Ethan being without emotion and others complained about the mold, a few didn’t like the FEAR vibes from Eveline. 

I personally enjoyed the game, I thought RE series was going back on track, that game has it’s problems but it was really nice compared to what we had in 6.

After that game I had a conversation with my best friend and I said that I wanted a game that portrayed Umbrella’s fall since the only game that shows this is Umbrellas Chronicles (and that is most a resume of what happened)

And I said: “Bro, I wish that when they made that game, they could tie some mythological lore and human evolution before Umbrella - using Spencer, this would solve LOT OF STUFF and open new ways to handle this series”

and guess what - this happened in RE8 and kudos to the one writer that did that, i have my gratitude. 

RESIDENT EVIL 8 is probably one of the BEST RE games that we had IN YEARS

And I want to address all thing that I loved in this game and do some predictions to what will happen in the next games.

“WELL WELL IF IT ISN’T ETHAN WINTERS” (The Father of the year)

My father was not a great guy... really, so I want to be the best dad ever, I really want be like Ethan - a guy who is ready to sacrifice and fight every monster in the way to save my family. 

Ethan was a character that in RE7 was used to make us fell like that it was us in the Baker’s house, so that is why he didn’t had that much personality (in my opinion) but they changed that in RE8, here he has nice dialogues AND a diary 

He has one of the best story line in the whole REverse, a guy that did EVERYTHING in his power to save his daughter - and you saw that playing the game, every sentence line that he delivered, he tried to save others too and even tho Chris said to him stay put ... but he couldn’t, he had to go to the altar, he had to help Chris, he had to go forward and keep going, specially after having the tools to face Heisenberg. 

The plea from a father, that was his last wish, after he heard that Mia was alive he knew that someone had to stop that monster, he made a promise to his daughter “Daddy won’t let those weird fairy tale monsters get you” so he trusted Chris, to be the one that teaches his kid how to be brave and strong

I will not address Chris and Rose situation here because this is Ethans part and he deserves completely all the spotlight, his sacrifice was 100x times better than Steve (CV)/Piers(6)

My cheers to Ethan Winters - You have my respect !

Revelations -> RE8 

So leaks from earlier times said that RE8 sucked and Revelations 3 was amazing

Revelations FYI is know for using old tales in RE stories 

Revelations 1 - Dante’s Inferno 

Revelations 2 - Frans Kafka 

Revelations 3 - Dracula 

But since RE8 sucked, Capcom said to the REV3 team that they could make REV3 become RE8 and they accepted 

Revelations series is one of the best in the games, they handle Jill in a way that I love, Claire and even Barry - so they deserve all the spotlight for making this awesome game - you CLEARLY can see that they love this series and that they treat all the characters with the love that they deserve. 

Keeping that in mind, they are the same team that made Rev 2 and in REV 2 we have this file here 

So they had a plan for Jill and we can see that in RE8 - I will address that later but keep that in mind - this team cares for the old characters, they were the ones that brought Barry back to the games :V 

Chris Redfield 

This is a hard one, because he is my fav character and I usually have the most critics regard him, since I’ve expect a lot from Capcom 

In the latest games they made him kind dumb, only muscles type of guy and an alcoholic that let all the people in his surroundings die (RE5,RE6,Vendetta) 

RE6 treats him the WORST

But in RE8 he had an amazing part in the storyline, it was obvious that he wasn’t evil and they FIXED HIS EYE COLOR - FINALLY 

I still don’t like the model face that much but it’s way better than 7 - so I believe Capcom, I still feel that he need more jawline 

But let’s go to the most important thing - here he really feels like a squad leader and a veteran, he has his team but he is the one in the front line, he covers and ask for help when he needs, everything about his line delivery makes you feel like “Woah, this guy is a badass, he is not some stupid guy only driven by emotions”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FINALLY GETTING THIS RIGHT 

If you remember my post about the ones that suffer the most / Jill is also in that list and I will talk about her a little bit later but if my guess is right RE8 saved her character aswell

Another thing that I enjoyed here is the fact that he is kind of a mercenary / Neo Umbrella kind of guy, even tho he is one of the founders of the BSAA

So I will give you all my score to this game: 

9/10

I won’t give 10/10 because of some technical issues, the cursor lock didn’t work and mouse sensitivity was i dunno, not the best. 

RE8 and the future (PREDICTIONS)  - Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, BSAA, Neo Umbrella, Ada Wong and Rosemary

First let’s look Rose

The first time I saw Rose all grown up - I thought to myself : She has the same problem as Eveline (age a lot faster than normal) 

But she also absorbed Miranda’s power since the metalicite (something like this) thought that she was a better host. - so maybe she will live longer or something because I doubt that they will do a 14 years time skip. 

This is not the same as Terra Save logo (Claire’s job) but it kind reminds me of it - her shoes appeared at least 3 times in this cut scene so maybe they are trying to show some hints with this 

She really reminds me of Jodie (Beyond two souls, a game where a girl has a lot of power and the gov uses her in missions and stuff, but she also is learning how to be her own person) 

Another thing here is that they don’t have a logo in this car, it really reminds me the car that Chris as using in RE8 

This supports the theory that Chris’s organization is dealing with her instead of the BSAA, the she is a hot headed girl and that she had a lot of powers. 

So here you can say that she is just a kid because she is a teenager, but what if she actually grows older really fast (like Eveline) maybe this is just 1 year later / 2 yrs later. (after RE8)

So this is the tricky part, this is Chris’s guard/soldier, someone that Chris trust to stand by her side, in my mind I do believe that Chris is kind of a father figure to her, so when this guys says this he is thinking about hot head Chris but she replies “Yeah” thinking about Ethan - (she has the mold memories, so she can actually remember Ethan’s memories) 

Now let’s look at this 

BSAA 

So in REV1 is hinted that BSAA is not the best organization in the world, but since our heroes work there we think that they are the good guys right ? 

In REV 2 (it’s important to remember that the team that created RE8 is the same from the REVELATIONS and they had this file here in REV2)

This email is from Jill and what does Jill have ? T-Virus 

Wesker is a different case since he was a project and she had the vaccine but this would make a lot of sense if they had this tests with Jill to get the T-Virus

If that is the case, they explained Jill’s absence in the main games, could even explain why Chris left BSAA and opened a new window to a lot of possibilities 

My Predictions: 

- Chris had trouble dealing with BSAA and Jill’s case, he wanted to get her out of there, maybe he removed her from there but that resulted in him being expelled from the force

-Jill may or may not know what they are doing with her blood, but she will have a huge part in the BOW used by BSAA 

-Chris is married to Jill (sorry- I had to place this here, in a perfect world he has two kids with her and they all love aunt Rose) 

-Chris will hopefully be a father figure to Rose and they will be in a game together since in the end they came to get her

-Rebecca is still involved in BSAA activities (leak from new REV3) if you consider Vendetta canon, she maybe the one that used Jill’s sample of blood to create the virus soldiers

-Barry maybe retired 

-I don’t think Leon will be in this game, but he will get his RE4 Rmk 

- I do believe RE9 will be release after Code veronica rmk and MAYBE they will do a game about Umbrella’s Fall (Chris and Jill in Europe against Red Queen and BOWs) 

But that is it, you can see a lot of elements from old RE games in RE8, they tried to do something really smart and the game felt amazing to play, that was something else and it’s been a while since a player a RE game that made me feel that way <3

[dutchforstrangers]

Taichi Yagami appreciation 2022 Day 5 - Courage

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

@taichiyagamiweek

For context see this post here. A/N: *Almost one month later, what?* Souta is Taichi's (and Rei's) son.

Day 5: Courage | Characters: Taichi Yagami, Daisuke Motomiya | Wordcount: 671

'If you never try,' Big Panda said, 'you'll never know whether you can fly.' - Page 113

Before it falls

…

“If you want to shoot at goal in that particular way, you will always fail at least once,” Daisuke said to Souta as he kicked back the ball. “But if you never practice and try, you will never be able to do it.”

Taichi knew it was directed to his son, but with Daisuke side eyeing him, it had to be directed towards him as well. His eyes followed Souta running away into the direction of the goal, taking Daisuke’s advice with him.

“When did you become so wise?” Taichi asked, his eyes still glued to his son. In the corner of his eyes he could see Daisuke lean against the goalpost, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“When did you become so cowardly?”

Taichi grumbled. “I—”

“I mean it man, where’s your courage? Gone?” Taichi could hear his once protégé say as he looked away. “You earned that crest a long time ago, now go on and use it.”

“For what?” Were the words he covered himself with rather innocently, though Taichi was well aware of what Daisuke was meaning to say. The “Dude…” that came out of his friend was therefore expected.

“Get the woman.”

It was boldly stated, enough for Taichi to turn his head and to look Daisuke right in the eyes. Taichi sighed, knowing there were more words coming his way any second.

“I understand it’s hard to simply go for someone on the long term, especially after everything that happened to Rei – God bless her soul – after all, you are a loyal puppy. However,” Daisuke was now right beside him, his left hand encouragingly on Taichi’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes. Soon, his gaze traveled to their sons playing soccer and Taichi followed his trail of sight. His ears open to whatever Daisuke had to say next.

“Have you ever thought about what she wanted for you after she was gone? Knowing Rei, I don’t think she would have wanted you to sit, mope and wait.” The first more loose grip become more firm and Taichi looked back at Daisuke. “Where’s that impulsive action guy, the one who follows his gut? Reach for that kid within you and I’m sure you will be happy you at least tried to make it work in the end.”

Stunned by his friend’s words, Taichi’s jaw dropped a little and he sighed again, looking down at his feet. The green grass underneath him, where many more parents had stood to watch their kid play soccer, was a calming force to his racing mind. Even though the grass wasn’t as high as in places where less parents had stood and watched. Taichi wondered whether more man had been here at this place, having conversations like he just had with Daisuke. Did men actually ever had conversations like these here?

He laughed to himself.

“I’m serious!” Daisuke exclaimed, a little offended by Taichi’s lack of an answer.

“Don’t worry, I know,” he said as he looked back up again, a genuine smile curling his lips. “I just need to process it, though, I’m shocked at how easy those words came out of that mouth of yours.” Taichi teased back.

Daisuke rolled his eyes. “First of all, I’ve grown up, you should try that too—”

“Hey!”

“Second,” He paused, his tone now sounding softer, “I was inspired by a senpai who back in he day always gave me the courage I needed through his speeches.”

Daisuke didn’t wink, but Taichi felt that movement through those words anyway. He smiled.

“I think those ramen of yours went up your nose and mushed your brain—” Taichi replied when Souta interrupted him.

“Dad! Look!”

The boy was standing on top of the goal, proudly holding the ball in the air, keeping his balance as best as he could. Taichi’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head.

“I think all of my courage is up there…”

“Yep. And you better catch it before it falls and breaks.”

…

[the-ghost-king]

love seeing ur tags on my posts it means i get to think 🥰🥰 anyway mostly agree but at least to me nico’s constant need to prove himself is a sign of feeling like he’s not worth other people’s time and effort and he has to MAKE himself worth it. he does all he can in the hopes that people will notice him and tell him that he’s good enough because he relies on the approval of people he loves. he thinks love is something conditional for him and that he always has to be earning it because he doesn’t have enough worth to have it just granted to him. again this is more my own interpretation of his character and possibly a bit of projection

(Post)

I will not fail to acknowledge that I might also be projecting somewhat onto Nico, what is media but self reflection? I think there's a couple ways you can see Nico that are canonically "correct"

What I personally think happened with Nico is that he was aware he was worth more than the treatment he was receiving, but because so much rejection occurred he eventually just assumed he was the problem. There's things on this I would rewrite now but it holds up okay in what I'm about to try and explain.

The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault.

I think this is something that really describes Nico. He is never able to nestle himself in the comfort of sameness after a certain point. He is not given authority in his own story in the beginning, he is thrust into solitude, he is told he is a monster already and if not then he has no choice but to become one.

And he takes this blame upon himself, believing that it's him who has to prove himself. He doesn't acknowledge that maybe other people have their own biases against him, he says "I have to prove them wrong," and then does his best.

It's important to note that Nico is definitely grappling with Childhood Emotional Neglect, he's in a broken situation- and he recognizes that nobody wants him around, and that he's just more stress for an already stressed group of people, so he just backs down and starts to figure stuff out for himself. We see him accept some help and friendship from The Stolls in TTC but eventually he stops doing this at some point.

His leave from camp and time with Minos is when he is used:

you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this

This is something I would say is very true about this time period of Nico's life. Minos emotionally exploits Nico, emotional neglect and abuse (possibly physical abuse, who knows) are defining characteristics of their interactions. Nico talks about how Minos will just randomly leave him for extremely long periods with no assistance, and about how when he's around he's always telling Nico to try harder, to do better, do more. Note the time he tells Nico "you have no power over me", he's definitely holding things over Nico's head. I don't think it's wrong to assume comfort is a part of that, Nico is alone all the time at this point, and I'm sure he's starved for touch, and support, and connection- and he will take whatever he can get whether or not it is good or right.

At first he doesn't do anything against this, and it might be because he was so starved for attention that he was willing to endure abuse to receive somewhat a consistent form of it. I also think there's some evidence that points to the idea Nico was getting something from Minos, training and similar stuff, it's possible he was willing to form and upkeep a toxic relationship with him in order to gain experience.

However, I do disagree with "and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this" because Nico does realize eventually that his situation isn't sustainable and that he has to do something- so he takes his narrative back into his own hands:

“Minos laughed. "You have no power over me. I am the god of spirits! The ghost king!" "No." Nico drew his sword. "I am.” (X)

So Nico, if he ever thought he was worth the treatment of being used for someone elses personal gain, he definitely overcomes some of it here, if not all of it. Nico is manipulated and used for Minos's personal gain, but he recognizes that it's not sustainable and makes a stand for himself. And this is the first time in the series where Nico truly is able to take control of his own narrative, everything before this moment is Nico being forced, or Nico with something looming over him, Nico crowning himself is him claiming his story.

So let's consider Hades in all of this, I don't think Hades manipulated Nico to the extent Minos did- but nonetheless, he did manipulate and abuse him, and this hurt Nico more than when Minos did it. Again, in the situation with Hades this is also true, "you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing". By the time Nico and Hades truly start interacting, we see that Nico's heart hasn't been fully removed from his sleeve, but it may have been lightened.

Here's the thing about the way Nico approached Hades, it's not naïve to trust family. The text in multiple places implies that Hades was around for at least a handful of years when Nico was a kid, it's not unlikely that Nico may have taken naps on his shoulder, held his hand to cross the street, maybe called him "Papa", "Dad", or "Tata" (Italian, English, old Greek). It makes sense that Nico goes to him, what doesn't make sense to Nico at first is that Hades would manipulate him. Unlike many of the other demigods, Nico knows he was a choice, and that at some point he was something wanted, so he expects some level of okay treatment from Hades. Hades loved his mother, and Hades if not wanting of Nico would have wanted Maria's wishes fulfilled, and Nico probably remembers Hades treating him warmly- or at least not harshly. The way Nico went to Hades makes sense, he wasn't expecting open arms surely, but he also wasn't expecting abuse.

Hades emotionally exploits Nico by using information about Maria, what would a little boy want more than the safety of his mother? He's so starved for human contact, who ever held him more than his mother? Who ever loved him more than her? Once Nico delivers Percy to Hades, his father crushes him, not only by harming Percy but by exploiting Nico's trust through Nico's mother- one of the things he's most desperate for.

We see Nico's heart come off his sleeve at this point, maybe not fully, but enough to where a stranger couldn't recognize it at first glance, and in a way where he has the means to hide it from most.

Except we don't see much of this, because the series is narrated by Percy- and Nico can't hide his heart from Percy.

Almost everything Nico does, everything he tries to do, is for Percy. Nico is so desperate for contact that he is pliant, but in Percy's hands Nico actually wants that contact, he's not interested in imitations of love or substitutes- he's looking for the real thing.

And Mr. Oblivious does-Annabeth-like-me Jackson isn't in any headspace to realize that a boy might like him, let alone Nico. This concern that Nico will join Luke, isn't entirely because Percy is misreading signals, but it's definitely part of it. Nico likes Percy so much that at one point he is willing to go to Tartarus if not entirely for him, then partially for him.

If Percy had realized, and rejected Nico- maybe he would have joined Luke, or at least he definitely would have been more likely to. The perception of Nico we get in PJO from Percy is unreliable, because Percy looks at Nico through the lenses of a concerned older brother, and Percy feels guilty in some way for the situation Nico is in. This gives not only a skewed, but slightly falsified narrative of who Nico is.

The original post of mine I linked, although yes, I would like to rewrite aspects of it now it holds up in the sense that Nico is always trying to prove himself, and this is a bit different than being a puppet. Nico is so starved that it is present in everything, @/arabnico gets it right:

nico’s longing is just so raw it consumes him whole and he cannot hide it at all because it reflects in absolutely everything he does and is nico’s just the means of the way for them and he settles for being it because he doesn’t think he can be much better or even deserves to it is sometting so twisted because nico has this innate utalitarian desire to be useful and to do something and to do the right thing but in the game of things he’s reduced to that puppet in the hands of fate and deities millennia older than him that see a wounded wandering soul doomed to be forever alone by a destiny so cruel it keeps him on his knees

Nico, in PJO especially, has little control over his own narrative. His mother is killed in punishment for his father's "wrongs", Nico is forced to endure this. Bianca grows tired of caring for Nico and leaves him behind, this is not Nico's fault but Nico is forced to endure the consequences of her actions. Bianca's fate is decided on a quest Nico isn't even able to go on, he is forced to endure the results. Nico then breaks the cycle, declaring himself The Ghost King, and dethroning Minos. Nico is forced to endure Hades's manipulation only because he did not see it coming, this wasn't an aspect in which Nico didn't have his narrative (he had already taken ownership of his narrative) but a blind spot in his rational.

The place where we vary is why Nico behaves this way, we can agree that it's because he's starving for human connection- but you believe it's because he has no confidence he is willing to submit himself, while I see his submission as an act of desperation.

Personally, I think to argue that Nico is like this as a result of lack of confidence does a disservice to his narrative (obviously it's fine to view him however you wish, and I wish you all the fun in doing so!). To boil this down to starvation and lack of confidence removes some level of Nico's autonomy in his own life, but also strips him of one of his strongest characteristics- those qualities of him which are like Orpheus.

Nico willing to go to the ends of the earth for love is not a weakness but a strength, his ability to carry on beyond the point in which he needs a rest is not a weakness but a sign of strength. His ability to go to the ends of the earth to right wrongs, and to show his love:

"... Cupid struck, slapping Nico sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work- a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you- especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards."

Cupid is explaining Nico's idea of love in this scene, we see Jason say he prefers Piper's idea of love- but Nico only knows love in the way cupid describes, working desperately for a few moments with Bianca, working just to hear any scrap of information about his mother, always trying to prove himself to Percy- to overcome the way he feels about Percy (and boys in general).

Nico has only known love as something you walk to the ends of the Earth for, but he never stops fighting to be loved and acknowledged. Lesser men would give up and lay down, accept they are unworthy, but Nico keeps pushing to be acknowledged and accepted- to be recognized and loved without having to walk to the end of the Earth, but Nico knows he has to walk to that edge and face it before unconditional love will come to him.

To imply that Nico seeks love the way he does because he's unconfident in his ability to receive love ignores the idea that he's had his life forced into this position because of the fates. It loses acknowledgment to the strength it takes to pick yourself up and walk to the end of the Earth time and time again, because if he was unconfident then he would eventually lay down and accept he shouldn't be loved ever again.

I don't think confidence doesn't play into this at all though, it definitely has some impact on Nico, he does view himself as inherently less (he is overly self sacrificial- think Tartarus :/), and he does try to remove himself from others:

You yourself said: you blame yourself for the way people have hurt you, taken advantage of you, and abandoned you. they exploit your love and your naïveté time and time again. you tell yourself, surely, there must be something wrong with you. because—you are convinced—that people are good. “if they hurt me, it is because i am flawed. it is because i am weak. people will always hurt me—even people i love. it’s an inevitable truth for me.” (X)

And this connects to what I said: "The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault."

I do think there's a reason Nico makes himself so "utilitarian", because he hasn't been handed unconditional love since Bianca. But again we disagree on the why, I see Nico's behavior in his utilitarian example of love as caring, the way more people should be in love. Too many people see love as something given without restraint, and yeah, love should be unconditional but in order for love to be unconditional you have to do the work to lay good foundation. To be utilitarian in loving is not an act of weakness, or a symbol of lack of confidence, it is a showcase of more care in love than most have to offer. We care for things, and place value on them determined by how much love and care goes into those things.

I also don't see Nico's self blaming for what happened as flawed, it's logical in his situation, and a common result of CEN. This self blame shows care and kindness, and this coincides with Nico's arcs, "If I am bad, how do I improve? If I have no choice but to be evil, how do I still be good?". Nico is always fighting not to be recognized for good or bad, but to be recognized for what he is.

Trust is not naivety either, the only reason Nico is regarded as naïve is because of the extreme circumstances of his life. People shouldn't have to expect abuse from people who are supposed to love them, people should have to accept abuse in order to receive love. If Nico's life had turned out different, his naivety wouldn't be viewed as a weakness but a strength- a kindness.

We're not actually viewing Nico all that different, there's this space where his character blurs together, and it becomes an individual duty to determine at what point a flaw becomes a strength, and a strength a flaw. Nico's stubbornness is a flaw if we're thinking about grudges, but it's a strength in his work ethic. Nico's ability to stand on his own is a strength in terms of questing, but it's a flaw when it prevents him from experiencing love in fullness.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Sacrifice: Part 1.5 (Geto Suguru x Fem! Reader)

synopsis: you meet your captors, but why are you really here?

wc: 1.8k

tw: none

masterlist

Giggling.

Giggling?

Do people giggle in heaven?

When you finally come to, all you can hear are muffled whispers and excited chatter around you.

“Mom? Dad?” You slowly open your eyes and take in the blurry shapes surrounding you, blinking multiple times so that they would take form.

“No mom or dad here,” a soft voice whispers, and cold fingers touch your forehead.

“No,” another voice echoes and finally, you can see who is circled around you. A gaggle of women surrounds you, each one having an unusual skin color - rose pink, cerulean, blood red, hunter green, and mauve - and sporting a set of unfamiliar-looking ears that came to a small pinched point at the tops.

“We’re glad you’re awake!” A woman with short black hair and green skin exclaims, clasping her hands to her clothed chest. “Everyone is shocked when they come here at first, but we’ve never had someone pass out,” she giggles and the other women do as well.

“You made quite a spectacle,” another woman sighs, shaking her rose-pink head. “We had to get the men to help us get you up here.”

Here? You look around the room you’re in, fully noticing your surroundings. You’re still in the clothes from the ceremony, and the pendant hangs neatly around your neck still, untouched by the women. But the room… it’s immaculate.

Every piece of furniture is either gold or white, and to your left, a set of open-air windows are covered by gauzy curtains that blow in the invisible wind. You’re laying in a four-poster bed, covered in white sheets and white fur that looks expensive. And when you run your hands over it, it feels expensive.

“Wait…” you exhale, looking around at the room again. “Am I in the Dragon God’s--”

“You’re not dead if that’s what you’re asking,” The blood-red-skinned woman answers, fingering her long braid. “But I’ll let His Holiness explain.”

“His Holiness?” you mutter, right as a sharp ripple runs through the curtains. All of the women turn to the archways and in one motion begin to scramble there.

“Move, Ariadne!”

“Serena, scoot over!”

“Danai, I can’t see!”

You cautiously slide out of the bed and pad over to where the women have thrown open the curtains and are leaning over the banister to look left and right.

“Do you see them?” Someone asks, and one of them replies,

“Up there!” Your eyes follow to the point in the sky where the mauve hand is pointing, and you can see two figures dancing about in the sky, flashes of gold and white passing between them. As they get closer, you can clearly make out that they’re...

“Dragons.” A black one circles around a white one, both of them exchanging fire in turn. All of the women begin to squeal, their excited chatter like the sounds of birds in the morning light.

“You came to just in time,” the tall, blood-red woman nudges you, smiling widely. “His Holiness and His Highness like to spar during the day, and it looks like they’re putting on quite the show.”

“Ah,” you answer, looking back up at the dragons, who were getting even closer, almost right upon the place where you all stood.

“What’s your name?” she asks, raising a brow at you.

“Y/n,” you reply, fiddling with the edges of your sleeves.

“I’m Clymenestra,” the woman offers her hand to you, and you take it, shaking it firmly. “But everyone calls me Cly. I’m the head of household affairs, so if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to send for me.”

“Household affairs?”

“Food, drink, sheets, anything you associate with households, I’m in charge of it.”

“So… you’re not the Dragon God’s… wives?”

Cly laughs, tossing her head back and holding her stomach as her fox-like features slide into a wide grin. “Oh, y/n, you are so funny!” You turn back to the spectacle in front of you and watch as the two dragons engage in a death-drop, wrapping around each other in an endless loop.

“They’re going to do it!” Someone squeals and you all watch as they drop into the water right below them, neglecting to emerge for what feels like eons. As you scan the shoreline for any signs of re-emerging dragons, you wonder why two dragons - fire-breathing creatures - would descend into the depths of what appeared to be an ocean. But when two male figures emerge from the sea, you’re suddenly aware that it was just what Cly said: it was all a show.

“Oh! Cly, we have to get their robes!” One of the women shouts and the women break into a frenzy again, scurrying about and opening drawers and shutting wardrobes, hands suddenly filled with different articles of clothing. Clymenestra stands beside you, arms folded over her chest as she oversees the chaos, then opens a set of doors that leads to a large, long hallway. The doors at the end of the hallways open out to the outdoors at the same time, and you watch the women file neatly into the hallway in two rows. Cly tugs you to her side at the end of the line, holding your hand with an iron grip.

“Say nothing until I introduce you.”

When the two men who resurfaced from the sea stride through the doors, you swallow hard, feeling your palms become clammy at the sight of the muscles on display.

Oh, no. They’re hot.

“Your Holiness.”

“Your Highness.”

The women coo these words interchangeably as a black, long-haired man and a white-haired man take the clothing offered to them, wrapping the towels and silk robes around themselves. As the white-haired man gets closer to you, your knees begin to quake under your dress, his blue eyes piercing your soul.

“Clymenestra, it seems we have a new guest here,” he purrs, placing a hand on his hip. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“I’m--” Cly yanks on your hand surreptitiously, which stops your speech.

“Her name is y/n, and she’s the newest addition to His Holiness’ household, your Highness.”

“Ah,” the man sighs, looking away. “I was hoping they would send me a new plaything this time.” The black-haired man catches the end of this conversation, tying his black robe around him and raising a brow.

“Have you asked for a new plaything, Gojo?” he wonders as his black eyes slide to you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you catch his gaze, which is tender and curious. Not at all like the devouring gaze the man with the blue eyes gave you.

“No,” the blue-eyed man mumbles, walking down a different corridor and disappearing.

“I’m sorry about my friend, he’s a little touchy around this time of year,” the black-haired man mentions, and Cly bobs into a small curtsy.

“Your Holiness, this is y/n.”

“What a beautiful name,” he muses, and you bow your head slightly. “You can refer to me as Geto.” When he speaks to you - and so familiarly at that - you feel a shiver run down your spine and rest in the pit of your stomach. “You’re my guest here and I will treat you as such. Have you fully recovered from your episode?” he wonders, and you nod in response, words unable to be formed in your mouth. “Fantastic. Let’s have dinner, I know you’re probably famished after losing your horse.” Cly urges you to follow him down a separate corridor, and you follow obediently.

_____________________________________________________________

Two pairs of eyes are on you as you try to politely scarf down the food offered. When the smell of loaves of bread, meats, cheeses, fish, delicacies you’ve only dreamed of having for the past five years wafted into your nose, your rational mind switched off and your self-preservation kicked in. Now, you were sitting at a table for four in the middle of a large dining hall that could possibly hold twenty couples total. The room is the same white and golden color scheme, only this time, the chairs and table cloths are black.

“You would think the villagers would have fed her,” Gojo - his highness - grumbles as you shove a slice of bread into your mouth. Geto just chuckles, picking at his own food with little interest.

“No, Satoru. They were cruel enough to send her up the mountain, certain she would die. Why would they waste food during a famine?” The famine. You look up from your plate at the black-haired one and frown, mouth full of food.

“We sacrifice women to you so that you’ll send rain.” You mention, and he shrugs, shaking his head. “At least, that’s what the elders tell us.”

“He’s not a rain god,” Gojo replies, steepling his fingers together. “So there’s something wrong about that assumption.”

“But we’ve been doing it for--”

“Two decades.” Geto finishes for you, then looks down at his plate before clearing his throat. “What did you do in the village, y/n?” He wonders, changing the subject suddenly.

“I--” I stole some food. I lived on the streets. I was an orphan.

I am an orphan.

“What difference does it make? Obviously, she wasn’t valuable enough for them to want to preserve her life.” Gojo interrupts, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like she’s not better off up here, Suguru.”

“But--” you try to speak, but Geto speaks over you, holding a hand out so Gojo will stop talking.

“Gojo, I know that. I just want to know a little more about our guest here. Is that okay with you?” The blue-eyed man tosses his hands up in defeat, squinting at you after looking you up and down. “Y/n, tell me about your time in the village. What did you do before you were picked?”

“I was… an orphan,” you admit, and Geto leans back in his chair, humming softly. Gojo runs a hand through his white locks, averting his gaze.

“My condolences,” Geto murmurs, tilting his head to the side so his hair dangled to the left. “Were you very close?”

“Are you going to sacrifice me?” you blurt, and Geto and Gojo both frown. “I mean, am I going to die after eating this meal?” Gojo tries his best to hold in his laughter, but fails miserably, tilting back in his chair as the sharp sounds echo around the room. You turn back to Geto, who chuckles as well and is hunched over in his seat.

“No, no, no,” Gojo wipes the tears from his eyes and continues. “You’re out guest, y/n. We would be horrible hosts if we killed you.”

“So what am I here for?” you reply, and Geto whispers:

“You’re only here to repay a debt, y/n. It has nothing to do with you personally, but just know, you’re not going to die. Actually, I would go as far as saying that you have the opportunity to live forever.”

TAGLIST: @jotazinha @leanne-tamashi @brownskinnedgirll

[when-they-write-stuff]

SterekWeek2020: Day Six (Blue Moon)

~

“First of all,” Stiles said, pointing his fork at the red-haired banshee across from him. “The chances of Derek ever falling in love with me are like, once in a blue moon. Second of all, it’s just a quick college party to convince my college friends that I’m not single and lonely!”

“But you are single and lonely,” Lydia said, slicing delicately into her chicken as she ignored the fork in her face. “And there’s no way Derek is going to say yes.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I’m fairly sure,” Lydia said, finally glancing up. “And I’m sorry I can’t go, Stiles. I have a meeting with a professor who decided my paper wasn’t worth an A, and he’s going to regret that decision immensely.”

“On a Friday night?” Stiles frowned. “What, are you using dinner as a cover for an interrogation or something?”

“That’s precisely what it is.”

Stiles blinked, then rolled his eyes. “You can be terrifying sometimes.”

“That is the point.”

“Come on, Lyds,” Stiles said, jabbing his fork into his food, metal screeching against the plate. That earned a few glances from the other people in the relatively-cheap restaurant Stiles had picked out for his and Lydia’s reunion, but he didn’t really care. He was desperate here. “If Derek says no, then I have to go alone. And then my roommate will try to set me up with his douchey best friend and that guy gives me the creeps.”

“Then just say no.”

“And risk pissing my roommate off? Do you realize how dangerous that is?”

Lydia sighed, setting down her utensils and reaching across the table, catching Stiles’s hand and giving a small squeeze. He hated how reassuring that was. “Why don’t you actually ask Derek before you freak out? It’s been a while since he’s visited anyway.”

“I’m not even that far away,” Stiles grumbled. He’d like to say he wasn’t hurt that Derek never came by Stanford to check-in, but that would be a total lie. 

Even the betas visited more often, though it was usually just to complain about their lives or steal his clothes. But still, they came. Scott came. Stiles’s dad and Lydia came.

But Derek had only been by like, twice in the last semester. Sometimes, Stiles wondered if he was the man’s least favorite pack member.

Okay, he didn’t have to wonder.

Sighing, he poked at his food again, appetite long since gone. He’d ask Scott to go with him if the boy wasn’t basically his brother and a terrible actor. And Stiles had already decided he’d never ask the betas, because he didn’t need that kind of blackmail.

But Stiles had gone throughout his entire first year of college staying far away from everyone else. At first, it had been a supernatural thing. He had trust issues, okay? But then it was just the hassle of getting out there and yeah, Stiles ended up having one or two hookups along the way, but that’s all they were. Hookups.

And now the friends he had made were starting to get pushy. So, Lydia had been Stiles’s first choice, and Derek was his saving grace.

Dammit if that wasn’t a sentence he’d never thought he’d have to say out loud.

-

On a scale from one to ten about scared for his well being, asking Derek Hale to fake date him for a night was right up there at an eleven.

Stiles had long since come to terms with the fact that his hopeless pining was just that. Hopeless pining. He could totally look at Derek without getting butterflies now, but that’s just because he had accepted his fate.

This was crossing a line that Stiles had told himself he would never cross. And damn, if he wasn’t silently panicking.

Derek, on the other hand, just looked bored. “What did you want, Stiles?”

For a long moment, Stiles stayed silent. He’d practiced this in the mirror at least a dozen times, trying to imagine the different ways that Derek could-- would-- say no. And it really wouldn’t be that bad, would it? It wasn’t like Stiles was baring his soul to the werewolf or anything. He was just asking for a small favor.

A small, totally platonic favor. 

“Stiles.”

“O- oh,” Stiles said, snapping back to reality. “Right. I need something from you.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles winced. He was already going off script and this was so not going to end well. 

“Not like that,” he said, then winced again. “Actually, it’s exactly like that. See, I might have told a few friends that I was seeing someone to get them off my back about dating. But now I’m expected to have a date for some upcoming party.”

Derek’s face remained completely blank. Stiles hated him a little bit for that.

“Lydia can’t come, though.”

“Okay.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, burying his face in his hands. Why Derek? Why did his saving grace have to be Derek? “Yeah, okay. And I need you to come instead, dude.”

The words were said into his hands and for a long moment, the only sound was the rest of the cafe around them. Stiles kept his face hidden until he felt like it was safe, peering through his fingers at the werewolf to see that Derek’s expression hadn’t really changed much.

A long moment passed before Derek grunted. “No.”

“N-no?”

“No,” Derek said, taking a long, finishing drink of his coffee and setting it back on the table. The man started to stand and Stiles panicked, jumping to his feet so fast, the table nearly toppled over. 

“Dude, hold up, you can’t just say no and leave!”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek said, still looking unbothered. He slipped a ten out of his wallet and set it on the table, covering both of their drinks before turning away, heading toward the door.

Stiles was almost too shocked to chase after the man.

“Derek, Derek, wait!”

He caught the man on the sidewalk and Derek sighed, turning around with a tight expression. Like Stiles was being the annoying stubborn one here. “I’m not pretending to be your date, Stiles.”

“It’s just for one night!”

“Why don’t you get an actual one?”

“Because I—” Stiles blinked, then glared. “Because I don’t want one, asshole. I just want to avoid a terrible situation with my roommate’s best friend.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles did his best not to flush red at that, ducking his head. 

“Look, it’s one night. It’s not like you ever to come by Stanford to hang out or anything anyway. No one will even know it’s a lie. Just think of it like a miniature reunion that might involve straight-up lying to my friends one or two times!”

“And these people are really your friends?”

“I mean,” Stiles said, glancing back up. “They’re normal, you know? They’re not pack, of course, but it’s kind of nice sometimes. To be around normal people.”

Derek’s jaw tightened at that and for a moment, Stiles was worried he’d offended the man. But after a long-suffering second of silence, Derek stuffed his hands into his pockets and rolled his eyes. “Fine, one night. But I’m never doing anything like this again.”

Stiles grinned, pumping a fist into the air. “Yes, dude! Thank you!”

Derek just looked completely done with everything. Holding himself back from doing something stupid like hugging the man, Stiles patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. 

“I’ll be in touch then, Sourwolf. The party is this weekend, so I’m expecting both the leather jacket and Camaro. I get to arrive in style!”

“You’ll take what you get, Stiles.”

“Right, right,” Stiles said, waving a hand through the air. “See you Friday, dude!”

He didn’t get a response, but he hadn’t really expected one. Turning away before Derek could change his mind, Stiles hurried back down the street. And he could’ve sworn he felt the man’s gaze burning into his back.

Stiles’s heart was still slamming against his chest when he turned the corner. Because he couldn’t believe that had actually gone well. Derek Hale was his fake date in less than three days.

Stiles hated himself a little bit for how excited he was.

-

His roommate left for the party first, still talking up his friend who was ‘excited to see how things went tonight’ to which Stiles put on his best smile and just nodded. 

There were a few things about Derek literally being the scariest person Stiles had ever met that might work to his favor. Well, maybe not the scariest person, but Derek could most certainly look terrifying when he wanted to. And Stiles was going to use that to his advantage tonight.

He’d texted Derek a few times over the week, but the man had never texted him back except for one reply that was a simple ‘OK’ to all the messages that Stiles had sent earlier. 

And that totally wasn’t infuriating.

Look, Stiles knew this wasn’t an actual date. And he wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking this could ever go somewhere; his life wasn’t a movie. Yeah, Stiles had been crushing on Derek since he was a sixteen-year-old hyperactive teenager, but he also knew Derek would never feel the same. 

Because Derek Hale was… well, Derek Hale. And Stiles was Stiles.

A lot of things had changed over the years and a lot of things hadn’t. And the things between them would never be anything different.

Stiles still hesitated a moment too long in his dorm room when Derek texted ‘here’. He totally didn’t almost have a panic attack, but things would have been so much easier if it was Lydia coming with him tonight instead of Derek.

Dammit. 

Derek was leaning against the passenger side of the Camaro when Stiles got outside, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. And Stiles hated himself for the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the man— because could he never wear jeans that actually fit? And Derek Hale in a v-neck should be a literal crime.

The man did not have any rights to be such a sexy… sex god. Fuck.

Stiles tried to calm himself down as he approached the Camaro. He was aware enough of the other people in the parking lot eyeing where Derek stood, cursing at the pang of jealousy he felt at that. Because he was totally over Derek Hale, remember?

Butterflies weren’t a thing when he looked at the werewolf anymore.

“Okay, dude,” Stiles said, pausing in front of the car. “So you came through. Leather jacket, Camaro, and everything. Should I be pleased or worried?”

“You should be thankful,” Derek said, opening the door. Stiles raised an eyebrow and the man rolled his eyes, leaving it open as he moved back around the car to the driver’s side. “I’m the fake date, right? Might as well have some manners.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done to Derek Hale?”

“Shut up,” Derek said, eyes turning a little red. Stiles swallowed hard and ducked down into the passenger’s seat.

Fucking Derek Hale.

Stiles had made a plan, though. He wasn’t staying at this party any longer than necessary and he was totally using Derek to scare off anyone that dared try to make a move. Because Stiles was doing this for a reason, okay? He missed his privacy. He also— almost— missed the days when he suspected everyone of being some kind of supernatural threat, sicing the betas on anyone he found suspicious.

He always came up empty-handed.

Maybe you just miss Beacon Hills, Scott had told him at one point. And Stiles had proceeded to laugh his ass off for the rest of the day.

Because missing Beacon Hills? Him? There was a threat nearly every other week back home, and Stiles totally didn’t miss running for his life through the preserve more often than not. No, he didn’t miss any of that at all.

Because there was his dad, yeah. But the Sheriff still came to visit when he could— and so did the pack. So honestly, Stiles absolutely had nothing to miss.

Nothing at all.

 “Stiles?”

Stiles blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. He didn’t even realize they’d arrived until the faint sound of music reached his ears and then he silently cursed himself for zoning, meeting Derek's curious gaze.

“Right,” Stiles said, forcing a grin. “We’ll be in and out, I promise.”

“You don’t want to spend time with your friends?”

“Uh, do you?”

He could’ve sworn the man turned a little red at that. But it was probably just his imagination. Derek mumbled something intelligible and climbed out of the car, and Stiles hesitated for only a moment longer before following. 

He’d been to enough college parties so far that he wasn’t terribly overwhelmed right away. Granted, this was the first one before the next semester, so there were a lot more people than he was used to, but Stiles didn’t have anything against crowds. Or, anything too much. It wasn’t like he stuck next to Derek’s side as his social anxiety slowly kicked in or whatever.

Except then, as if the man could read his mind, one arm wrapped around Stiles’s waist. Startling, Stiles shot Derek a confused look and the man only smirked a little before turning his gaze back to the rest of the party.

Stiles hated his treacherous heart skipping yet another beat.

“Okay,” Derek said. “Introduce me.”

Once more, Stiles gave him an open-mouthed look. Derek raised an expectant eyebrow, nodding to the rest of the room, and Stiles took a moment to regain his bearings. Then, shaking his head, he started toward the nearest familiar face.

The girl’s eyes snapped when they were less than a few feet away. Or, well, her eyes snapped to Derek, widening for a moment before fixing on Stiles. “Stiles, hey!”

Stiles grinned, fully aware of Derek’s arm still around his waist. He was tempted to glance over and gauge the man’s expression but forced his eyes to stay forward, trying to remain as relaxed as possible.

“Meg, this is Derek. Derek, this is Meg.”

This time, he did glance over. And the smile on Derek’s face was terrifyingly normal. “It’s nice to meet you, Meg.”

Meg’s smile was wide as she stayed focused on Derek’s face for a moment too long. But Stiles supposed he really couldn’t blame her as he continued to stare too, wondering when the hell Derek Hale had such a disarming smile?

Searching his brain, Stiles tried to remember the last time he’d seen Derek smile. And it left him feeling a little empty when he realized he couldn’t.

“Stiles?”

Blinking a few times, Stiles came snapping back to reality. The smile on Derek’s face had faded a little and he looked more intrigued than anything else now. 

Stiles was pretty sure he blushed as he forced himself to look away. “Sorry,” he said, looking back at Meg. “Derek is a… friend of mine.”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Just a friend?”

“Uh—”

“New boyfriend,” Derek said, before Stiles could mess everything up. Though he might still have, jolting a little bit and giving Derek a bewildered stare.

The man returned his look with an easy smirk. Shaking his head, Stiles tore his gaze away. “Yeah,” he said, words sticking a little. “Boyfriend.”

He didn’t even know how to begin approaching any of this. But Meg just nodded, still smiling, and Stiles stayed stuck in his head for a moment longer before they were moving along again, toward yet another voice calling his name.

Derek smiled the entire time. Through every friend, every stranger. The man made polite small talk and only removed his arm from around Stiles’s waist to shake a hand or readjust, always pulling Stiles right back in seconds later.

There were a few times Stiles looked down into his drink and wondered faintly if it was spiked— and all of this was just some kind of massive hallucination.

He didn’t know how to deal with what was happening.

See, when he’d imagined tonight, staying up for hours panicking, he’d imagined it being awkward as hell. Sometimes, he worried Derek might rip his throat out if he said the wrong thing. In front of everyone would be how Stiles Stilinski went.

But it was all so normal. All so painfully normal that Stiles didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Yo, Stiles!”

He startled so hard, Derek glanced over in concern. But Stiles didn’t have a chance to say anything before his roommate was moving across the room, cup in hand with another guy at his side— one with an athletic build and the type of expression that reminded Stiles a little too much of Jackson.

He shuddered at that thought. “Hey, Vincent.”

“This is Brad,” Vincent said, nudging his friend in the ribs. Brad grinned and raised his cup, eyes raking up and down where Stiles stood. His skin crawled a little bit at that and, arm still circled around his waist, he was surprised to feel Derek’s grip tighten. 

“Uh, yeah, right. Nice to meet you, Brad.”

“And this is?” Brad said, jerking his head toward Derek. When Stiles glanced over, Derek’s eyes were hard and his lips were pressed tightly together. And there was that type of murderous expression that Stiles had dragged the werewolf here for in the first place. 

“This is Derek,” Stiles said, when it was clear Derek wasn’t going to say anything. Which was another first for the night.

Vincent looked a bit uncomfortable, offering a small nod. Brad almost looked nervous too, but he kept his chin up, that cocky smile slowly making its way back onto his face as the seconds ticked past.

“So, Stiles,” he said, turning his shoulder toward Derek. That’s when Stiles heard the first sound of a growl. “What are you doing after this?”

“Uh,” Stiles hesitated for a second. “I think we might just head back to the dorm.”

“We?”

“Derek and I.”

Brad’s smile tightened a fraction. He glanced back at Derek for only a second before scoffing. “Seriously?”

Stiles blinked. But before he could say a word, Vincent stepped in.

“There’s another party going on just down the street that we were going to check out,” he said, glancing sideways at his friend. Brad shrugged. “Then we’re gonna hit the bar on 18th street. You should come.”

Derek’s grip was tight enough that it was starting to hurt now. Stiles shifted, nudging the man in the side with his elbow. He could still swear he could hear the slightest growl coming from Derek’s throat— which wouldn’t prove to be good for anyone.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said. Because that wasn’t the plan. He hadn’t planned on going anywhere after the party except back to his dorm. “I think we might call it a night soon.”

“Lame,” Brad muttered, low enough that Stiles barely caught it. But Derek definitely growled this time and Brad looked at him in surprise. Then the boy’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, what the hell is wrong with your eyes?”

Stiles’s heart stopped and he whipped sideways, meeting Derek’s gaze. And yep, that was a hint of red in Derek’s usually grey-green eyes. Vincent started to follow his friend’s gaze too but before he could, Stiles stepped between them, taking both of Derek’s hands.

“Dude,” he hissed, alarm rising in his throat. “What are you doing?”

Derek just clenched his jaw, lowering his eyes to the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, Stiles chuckled nervously and situated himself so he was still standing as Derek’s only barrier.

“We’re just gonna go now. Bad, uh, dinner earlier.”

“What?”

“See you later, Vinc.”

Before either Stiles’s roommate or his douche of a best friend could say anything, Stiles steered Derek away. The party had worn down some and he was able to make it to the front door without incident, ducking past a few people crowded around it and pulling Derek out into the night.

The moment they were across the lawn and close enough to the Camaro, Stiles spun right back around.

“Derek, what the hell was that about?”

Derek pulled his hands away, folding his arms over his chest and shooting a venomous glance toward the frat house. “I did what you asked of me, didn’t I? Brad won’t be asking you out anywhere if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Dude,” Stiles said, staring. “You nearly went Alpha on his ass.”

“Would that have been a bad thing?”

“Would that have been a— yes, Sourwolf, that would have been a very bad thing!”

Derek just grunted, not looking convinced. And the entire one-eighty was so sudden, Stiles’s head was spinning. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, well that party is over.”

“You didn’t seem to be having much fun anyway,” Derek said. Stiles blinked at him.

“What?”

“You were anxious and bored the entire time,” Derek said. “A combination which I didn’t know was possible until tonight.”

“I was— I was not.”

Derek gave him a flat look. Stiles frowned.

“Whatever. I just wanted to get it over with.”

“Which is why you brought me along,” Derek said. For a moment, the entire ‘Alpha’ bravado actually seemed to drop and he looked a little bothered. “To scare off your supposed friends and make sure they never invited you anywhere ever again, right?”

“Woah, woah, wait. My supposed friends?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles’s frown turned to a glare as anger crashed over him.

“That’s nowhere near true.”

“You said it yourself,” Derek said hotly. “They’re not pack. They’re normal. But that’s not what you want, is it, Stiles?”

“Why the hell isn’t that something I would want?”

“Because you’re not normal!”

Stiles drew back, a pang shooting through him at the sight of Derek’s red eyes and furious expression. For a moment, he just looked at Derek, Derek looked back, and then the man growled, turning his face away until his eyes were back to normal again.

“I did what you asked, Stiles. Should I drive you back to your dorm now?”

Stiles stood there for another second, throat tight. Then, without a word, he turned toward the Camaro. Because he really didn’t trust himself with words at the moment.

Derek took a little while longer to follow. There was no opening of the passenger side door when he stalked over, unlocking the car and climbing into the driver’s seat before slamming it closed.

There was no talking either, when the man slid the keys into the ignition. Stiles clicked his seatbelt in and glared out the window, listening to the faint sound of music where the frat house seemed to glow neon blue from the lights inside. 

And damn, if he hadn’t imagined this night going a lot of different ways.

But somehow, it had still gone off the rails.

-

When they pulled up in front of his dorm, the parking lot was empty and the one street light barely cast enough light for Stiles to see ten feet in front of him.

He climbed silently out of the Camaro, surprised to see Derek do the same. The man looked at him over the top of the car and Stiles swallowed hard, holding his gaze for a moment before turning away.

“Stiles.”

He froze, cursing himself silently. Stiles could hear the man’s footsteps on the asphalt as Derek moved around the car, finally lifting his eyes to meet grey-green again. 

“Look, Derek, I know tonight went worse than expected, but—”

“Did you like what happened back there?”

Stiles blinked, clamping his mouth shut again. Derek’s face turned a little red and he dropped his gaze.

“I mean, do you like how normal things here usually are?”

Oh.

Stiles stayed quiet, thinking Derek’s words over for a moment. In truth, something about it had been unsettling. Not the party, not the crowd. Derek, maybe. Stiles thought he’d love to see the man smile more and engage in conversation that easily somewhere else. Anywhere else.

But only if it were real. It had to be real.

“Is all of this what you want?” Derek asked, voice barely a whisper. Stiles sighed.

“No,” he said. Derek glanced up, looking startled, and he shrugged. “Or… not like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow. Stiles swallowed hard.

“It’s nice sometimes, you know? I know who these people are, Derek. They’re not supernatural. They’re not going to rip my throat out one day or get killed by a bunch of psycho hunters who think they’d be better as trophies than people.”

Derek winced. Stiles scoffed.

“No,” he said. “They’re not pack. But I’ve spent enough of my life lying about everything that all of this doesn’t seem like much of an issue anymore.”

“So am I a part of the lie now too, then?”

Stiles met the man’s gaze carefully. He wasn’t sure if it was the dim light of the street lamp or the fact that he’d drunk a little too much at the party, but Derek looked downright vulnerable. And this time, it actually seemed real. “I don’t want you to be.”

There was a flicker of red in the werewolf’s eyes. Stiles shook his head.

“I mean, we can totally pretend this whole fake dating thing never happened and go back to our previous arrangement or whatever, but—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish that sentence.

Because suddenly, Derek was kissing him.

Stiles’s brain logged offline for a moment. There was the strangest noise and then he realized it had come from him, Derek’s hand cupping the back of his neck as the man kissed him hard and deep, something about the cool night air and the fact that Stiles was not dreaming making the entire world pause around him for a long moment.

Up close, Derek smelled like leather and pine. There was no alcohol on his breath, though Stiles was pretty sure the taste of college beer had to be on his. Which was a strange thought, he figured, closing his eyes as Derek carded a hand through his hair and then finally, finally, he surged forward to kiss the man back.

Maybe a little more hard and hungry. Maybe a little more wanting and hoping that this was real. That this wasn’t part of another lie.

This couldn’t be part of another lie.

Derek growled at the back of his throat, the sound sending shivers down Stiles’s spine. And it was all wolf and one-hundred percent possessive. Nothing normal, nothing ordinary about it.

And dammit, if Stiles had been dreaming about this since he was an idiot teenager ogling werewolf abs when he thought no one was looking.

What had he told Lydia? The chance of Derek ever falling for him was once in a blue moon. Stiles was pretty sure the moon was not blue-- so did this count as falling? He blinked when Derek broke the kiss, drawing away, and there were sparks of red in the man’s eyes that faded ever so slowly.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Derek watched him almost nervously, chest rising and falling a little faster than usual.

Stiles blinked again. Once, twice. He was pretty sure this wasn’t a dream.

“Stiles?”

“That was real,” Stiles said, finally taking a breath. The man’s eyebrows drew together and he actually looked a little amused.

“It was.”

“Derek Hale just kissed me, even though the moon was not blue.”

Grey-green eyes flicked upward and then Derek gave him a strange look. But Stiles was still trying to process, touching his lips experimentally and then squinting at the werewolf, reaching out to touch the man’s cheek. 

And yeah, that was Derek Hale’s beard. Stiles breathed out a quiet ‘fuck’ and Derek rolled his eyes.

“Are you done?”

“One more time,” Stiles said, moving forward. Before Derek could react, he was kissing the man again, one hundred percent online this time as Derek stiffened in surprise, then growled, kissing him hard back. Stiles couldn’t tell which was more hungry this time.

It wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal.

But Stiles figured if anything was going to be out of the ordinary, it would be who he was not single and lonely with. There was something about Derek Hale happening once in a blue moon and dammit, if Stiles wasn’t going to latch on and never let go.

Once in a blue moon, he thought. But this moon wasn’t blue.

And maybe that made it so much better.