#goodbye old asks system you will be missed

[simp-ly-writes]

To Be Someone To You

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.8)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You started your new life, got a new job and making new friends yet it seemed no matter how hard you tried to forget about him- Jayce's presence always lingered in your life and it seems that even he himself is not ready or willing to be out of it- he begs you not to be stranger, we only want to be someone to you.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective! jealous! grovelling! Jayce, some emotional angst but a LOAD of fluff (potentially cheesy) and mutual pining, kissing, teasing, sharing clothes, intoxication, a side-OC, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,814 | PART ONE | PREV PART | NEXT PART

─ · · A/N: THEY ARE JUST SO UGH, I NEED IT- PLEASE 😩‼️

─────── · ·

─ · · The carriage continued down the road and into a neighbouring region. You were shocked to see various members of the local guard awaiting your presence and helping you out of the carriage before leading you towards their parliament buildings. To your equal shock people waved and smiled once seeing you, what the hell did Jayce do now? You ask yourself standing in front of the prime ministers desk. "We have been expecting your arrival Miss (last/name). Councillor Talis had informed us..." you zoned out for the rest of his speech nodding along until Ximena Talis squeezed your hand, bringing you back to reality, "...we have a few professors and scholars in the area that would love to work with you if you are interested Miss?"

You smile and nod, "I would love to take that opportunity, thank you." An assistant suddenly comes in running, "this way, ma'am," they lead out of the office and back out onto the street, pointing you in the direction of the university before the parliament doors shut behind you and seemingly on your old life.

─────── · ·

─ · · In the next coming days that turned into weeks you worked alongside Evren, a professor and active researcher at the local university as his new lab and teaching assistant. It felt great to meet new people, be back in the lab space, and to see all of Evren's students, you loved your new position getting to work with the next generation of scientists and develop their skills yet it always surprised you how excited they were to talk with and learn from you.

─ · · You could scoff remembering your first day sitting in Evrens' office as he walked you through the learning material and basic questions students commonly asked that you could filter for him. You were beyond anxious to mess something up or to have a hoard of students calling after you yet Evren only taught the upper years and from having such small classes he really only needed you to grade work and developing new material with him.

─ · · Evren always made sure you were comfortable and confident before leaving you with the students or in the lab when he had to take a step away. He even helped you to move in to your's and Xiema's new apartment and bought a wine bottle for you all to share while building furniture (class was cancelled that next morning as you all stayed up way too late laughing and sharing stories).

"Do you know I was married for a year?" he asks you, cheeks flushed red from the booze in his system as he fixed his glasses- an anxious tick. "No way, really?" you asked, leaning forwards in your seat with wide eyes as Xiema scoffed mentioning she was heading to bed as you two waved her goodbye for the night. "Yeah, high school sweetheart turned out not so... sweet. Stole all my work and designs I had yet to publish."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Evren," you say, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he shrugs, fixing his curly brown hair. "Well," he begins in a matter-of-factly tone, "I actually thanked her for doing so since I came up with a better idea the next week." You throw your head back laughing as his dry commentary, your heart racing remembering how Viktor used to talk to you like this. You face soon falls remembering the man Viktor connected himself to... Jayce.

"Hey, everything alright?" Evren's face falls, green eyes looking into yours with concern as you pull away and look distantly through the window. "Just... remembering past things," you try and move conversation, feeling anger, pain, and sadness starting to boil underneath your skin the more you think about it. "Favourite book?" Evren asks into the dead air as you look at him with relief for not asking any further questions- he seems to silently understand what you were going through internally and you were thankful for it.

"Asking all the hard questions aren't you now," you tease before burying yourself into the blankets on the couch as he throws you a pillow, "don't fall asleep on me now-" Evren begins to say seeing you ready to doze off. A wave of deja vu flashes over you and see Jayce's eyes looking into your own before blinking them away to see green again. Evren now looks exceptionally concerned, "I wasn't going to press earlier but I am worried about you, friend."

You smile at the term, something you both established at the beginning as many of the students "shipped" you two together. "I just hate that I miss him. Hate that I always check the death lists coming from Piltover- wait to see his name as they study corpse after corpse. I just feel disgusted with myself for..." you fail to continue your sentence, confused as to what to say next.

The thought of Jayce Talis made your heart race and equally ache, he made your blood boil and yet when you flipped through one of the few journals you packed, you broke down at the messages and jokes he wrote to you in the margins, you couldn't help but cry for everything you had lost. You swore to see him sometimes between the ailes of bookshelves in the library, at the market, or out of the corner of your eye. But when you would walk closer, you would either just walk right through the mist of him or just blink him away like another fleeting thought.

You were bitter towards that fact as you regretted your final moments together. You knew your feelings were in the right but looking back, you would have made the same choices that Jayce did. Trying to play into that fantasy future you both could have had for as long as possible... knowing the inevitable. Giving yourself that peace to enjoy every moment no matter how short as if nothing could come in between you both. It pained you with want just pleading with your past self to step back into that council room and just hold him, go against your pain and your anger and just have lived a little moment longer.

Evren holds out his hand and seeing that you don't take it he gently flicks the side of your head, "It's okay to be frustrated. You hate them because you loved them once, nothings wrong with working through emotions at our own pace."

"Thank you Evren... I really needed to hear that," you respond, closing your heavy eyes. "Goodnight, (name)," he whispers before you hear the door lock closed behind you for the night.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your daily schedule continued as it usually did yet today felt different and the title of todays paper only concerted that, 'councillors working together to build stronger cities'. Piltover and Zaun were combining resources to rebuild- your heart ached remembering this is what Viktor and Jayce worked so hard towards... and now they wouldn't be able to see their vision finally coming to life. Near the end of the newspaper it noted that the final list of the deceased would be out by the end of the week, and still not sights on the name Jayce Talis.

─ · · You stumbled into Evrens office later that day holding coffees for you both as you apologized for being late, the shock of the headlines still ringing through your head, "shit sorry I'm late, did you get a chance to read the news yet- its crazy I never thought this day would..." you slowly stop talking once not hearing Evren respond, hanging up your jacket over his as he stares at you, leaning against a windowsill with an apologetic look on his face before walking over and pulling you in for small hug.

You pat his back, "bad day already?" you mumble with a slight groan not looking forwards to it. You feel Evren shake his head before another voice clears their throat from behind you both. You feel as Evren jumps in your arms before he pulls away and grips your shoulders, forcing you not to look just yet. "I promise you that I had no idea, if I had I would have screened you first and this was not my choice and-"

You take a deep breath before looking over and your heart drops seeing... "Jayce?" sitting behind Evrens desk glaring at the other mans hold on you before catching your eyes and smiling anxiously. You can feel the world slow, your vision tunnelling to his smile and the shake in his hands he tries to hide by holding them together. Blinking away tears, as he slowly nods and stands, you hold out your hand, silently asking him to stay in his spot. "Am I seeing things, Ev?" you ask in a small voice, unsure.

Evren takes his time to respond, "that is Councillor Talis," he confirms before starting to move out of the room to give you both space yet you reach out and grip his hand for support. You look at Evren, "thank you, I'll be in lecture soon." He nods, giving your hand a squeeze and shuts the door softly behind himself.

"I know you must be confused but please allow me to explain-" Jayce begins before you cut him off with a heated glare. "No, Councillor Talis. You will fucking listen to me when I say you shouldn't be here after what you did to me. You said you were going to die, going to leave me, and yet you have the audacity to stand before me and plead?" You watch as Jayce's expression falls, his shoulders dropping as his head lowers apologetically, shuffling on the spot as if you kicked a puppy- your heart aches and you only become more frustrated.

"No Councillor you don't deserve to be moping around after the utter shit you pulled trying to play hero. I won't thank you, won't get on my knees and worship you- no. Do you understand how many nights I held myself sobbing to sleep, thought to see you- to hear you, desperate to feel you?" you are vibrating with anger, electricity flowing through your veins power by the passion in your heart.

"I do understand," Jayce's tone is firm, a warning to your heart for what is to come. You watch as he walks over and stands before you, his head tilting down and cocking to the side as he looks over your features distantly with dark eyes- you hate yourself for blushing.

"When I got stuck in the rune, I was forced to see your dead body before you consumed my every. waking. thought. It was your voice that called me back to you, that allowed me not to feel the pain in my leg, the ache in my ribs from starving. The thought of your touch against my body propelled by every step. I didn't stop- wouldn't stop until I knew you were safe... and you know what happened afterwards," Jayce allows a smirk to form across his features once seeing you subconsciously bite the inside of your cheek before taking a few steps back as you let out a breath you didn't know to be holding.

You walk after him as Jayce moves to leave against the desk. You stand in front of him before slapping him straight across the face. Jayce flexes his jaw, licking away the taste of iron building in his mouth. He looks back at you with wide, remorseful eyes and press lips- your blood boils, "I fucking hate your face."

"Mhmm?" Jayce hums, imploring you to continue getting your anger out. You take a step closer, standing in between his legs as you grip the lapels to his coat, knuckles turning white, "I hate that I'll always listen to everything you say and desire your touch. Hate that I still care about you, that I still want you. I hate myself! Hate my weak heart and yet I still let you have it- I fucking hate that I can't move on. Can't function a day without thinking to see you. I HATE YOU- hate that I love you, Jayce!" You punch and sob into his chest, utterly tried and longing for him to comfort you in a way no one else could as large warm palms hold you closely and tightly to his chest.

His beard tickles the top of your head, ruining your styled hair and yet you can't find it in yourself to care about anything. You feel sick with yourself for almost moaning when he kisses the side of your head and hums his apologies into your hear. You are embarrassed with yourself as you shake your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'll do anything for you to be mine again... and if you can't accept that just yet or even ever... I just want to be someone to you- just not strangers, never strangers... please," Jayce begs, squeeze your hips once feeling you starting to pull away but letting go once seeing your puffy eyes mirroring his own.

"I would say yes to everything now, Jayce. But I know that wouldn't be good for either of us knowing what happened last time," you explain as Jayce lowers his head into a nod, "I love you," he speaks softly.

"I know, I know," you respond, taking a deep breath before picking up your notes and learning material, "and thats why you are going to leave me alone for awhile... just so we both can sort though ourselves and come back with clearer minds." Jayce chuckles a little, "what part of me do you need a clearer image on, sweetheart?" he teases watching as you groan and huff your way to the door.

"Goodbye, Jayce," you twist open the doorknob only to feel a hand on your shoulder, holding your movements, "not goodbye- never again," Jayce says while looking into your eyes sternly. You raise your chin, "of course.... see you later then?" you try and say yet it comes out more like a question. Jayce smiles, your heart skips a beat, "better, see you later," he leans forwards to kiss you but ends up kiss air as you flee down the hallway smiling to yourself. Jayce sighs, watching as you turn down the hall and out of sight, back to square one.

─────── · ·

─ · · You feel bad that Evren paused the class as soon as you appeared, checking over your face and telling you to spin three times to ensure you were a-okay. The rest of the students fell into a hysteria and all you wanted was for his lesson to continue and for life to move on. "I'll beat of that councillor if you need me to miss!" "Would you ever consider going back?" "If he were ugly he wouldn't have gotten away with all of the shit he pulled!"

"Silence!" Evren ordered as everyone fell back into their seats and reopened their journals, you looked towards your friend with thanks, seating yourself beside him as you finished marking the papers before you, inputting the grades into your tables to help take your mind away. The class went by more quickly than you thought once zoning out, "how about a nice long lunch break this afternoon?" Evren asks, holding out your coat with a smile.

"Is coffee included?" you ask, offering a small smile watching as his grows, "of course it is."

─────── · ·

─ · · "So tell me, am I going to have to hire another assistant?" Evren asks, stirring the sugar in his coffee while watching your expression tick with annoyance. "I'm not jumping his bones as soon as I see him, at least not again after thinking him to be dead." Evren kicks his feet in laughter, the table jumping with the movement as you kick his shin, mumbling for your friend to, shut the hell up.

"I mean... I would jump his bones. Did you see that oxford shirt?" Evren groans, twirling his non-existent long hair as you roll your eyes. "And here I thought you had my back?"

"I do! I do, but after him threatening me... I think I questioned my sexuality-"

"WHAT?" it was your turn to yell as other cafe-goers looked between the two of you in question. You sunk down into your chair, embarrassed yet eyes demanding to know the answer as you took a sip of your coffee. Evren regretted his words not wanting to stress you out further but every time he would try and change conversation... you would only ask him again.

"Well... I think someone told him the wrong information about our relationship. I walked into my office not expecting anyone yet as I sorted through our schedule on the board and then next thing I knew a hand was being clamped down on my shoulder, the other on my hand in a tight shake..." Evren continued to recall the story of their interaction with Jayce who appeared to "size him up-" you scoffed.

"...and then he said to me," Evren lowers his tone watching as you shake your head at him, "...'I've killed gods and came back from the dead. If I hear that you've done anything against her- know that there isn't a place on this planet I won't be able to find you'."

"He said that?" you ask to confirm- Evren nods his head, chuckling, "He was so jealous saying it- I would have laughed if I wasn't so scared shitless."

"Oh god," you sigh out.

"Oh Jayce!" Evren mocks... whatever we're you going to do?

─────── · ·

─ · · It had been a few weeks since you had last seen Jayce. He had been sending flowers to your apartment with little notes attached that you kept in a box underneath your bed. Jayce also donated a very generous amount of money to your universities department and event sent service people to help fix your leaking sink and shower.

─ · · Jayce was very conscious about keeping physical space between the two of you just like you had asked. Even though it pained him listening to you talk in lecture as he stood at the back of the hall and when he stared down at the tattoo on his arm.

─ · · Everyday was a new challenge for you both not running to one another- it posed a new hurt that you both needed to feel mutually as you jotted down what you wanted out of your future the next time you both were to talk. Jayce on the other hand swirled your ring between his thumb and index finger, reminiscing on past dreams that if he waited just long enough could become his future.

─ · · Jayce always made sure to tell you when he was headed back to Piltover and for how long he would be gone since he was still needed at the Council as they rebuilt the cities and reestablished their trade routes and partners. As a parting gift, he offered you a shirt of his or left his jacket behind somewhere in your apartment when you were out a work and he visited his mother. Evren would also laugh when seeing you practically live out of the large jacket as you glared at him, daring him to say anything.

─ · · In one of his attached notes to a new pair of boots from the Zaun cobbler you liked he noted down Viktor's final words to you and worried for your letter back. You thankfully took the information well... or at least he couldn't see any tear stained pages or furiously written text, just thoughtfully exposed words in a mature understanding of the events. A part of you did wonder for a moment what a future with Viktor would have been like before realizing you both argued more than you agreed on things and the little moments you both shared were only possible because of meeting Jayce... Jayce, your heart heart longs for... and how could you refuse his affection when you wanted him just as much?

─────── · ·

─ · · A part of you was worried that your presence and relationship with Jayce was keeping him away from spending time with his mom but when you and Evren came back from the bar one night totally hammered, your drunken self was almost made sober by the shock of seeing Jayce open your front door for you once hearing you struggle with your keys.

"Had a good night there, sweetheart?" he asks in a loving and equally teasing tone as you fall into his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Wow, you're really here! Hey handsome," you giggle, feeling as his back muscles flex as he holds you up in his arms. Evren mumbles something about heading into your kitchen but all your groggy mind can think about is pawing at Jayce.

You stand on your toes, trying to kiss him. Jayce remembers your words of wanting space and moves his head to the side, your soft lips fall upon his beard with a huff, "mean! I wanted to kisss you since I misss you~" you slur your words together, suddenly becoming interested in your glimmering heels in comparison to Jayce's dress shoes, "I love how much bigger you are to me, always so warm and huggable," you giggle, feeling giddy with yourself before stepping away and running after Evren, "Ev! you should really get a hug from Jayce! He gives the best hugs!"

Evren picks his head up, eyes squinting to the dim kitchen lights to look at you and Jayce who watches your every moment, hands extended and ready to catch you as you wobble on the tiled floors and towards the fridge in search of a snack, oooh apples!

You turn around, fridge slamming behind you in search of a cutting board and blade. Jayce's heart drops as he wraps his arms from behind you, gently taking the knife from you and doing the job for you.

You lean your head back, smiling softly at the man before you- touching his clenched jaw with fascination, "you trimmed your beard, it looks good."

"Thank you," Jayce smiles before presenting you the plate. Removing himself from your touch as he looks around to hide the knife from you. "Are you sober enough to get home? Or should I put a fire on in the living room?" Evren points at himself as Jayce nods, "yes, you."

"I've been sober the whole time to watch over that one," Evren points over to you as you wave cheerfully back, snacking on your apple slices and offer one to him in which he accepts. "None for me?" Jayce teases as you shake your head, "No," you state coldly. Evren laughs, "You ready to get to bed?" he asks you.

You look between Evren and Jayce, "Get your mind out of the gutter," he shoves your shoulder as you laugh, pushing Evren on his back as he pretends to stumble over into the wall, "if you start shoving me, I may just have to report you to the dean," he teases as you narrow your eyes. Jayce crosses his arms watching as you two rile one another up. "You wouldn't dare!" you point your finger in his face.

Evren puts his palms up and shrugs, "Hey, I know that you're leaving by the end of the year anyways- what difference would a few months make?" He asks looking over at Jayce expectedly.

Your gaze also turns towards Jayce, eyes softening as you fall into his side. Jayce holds your upright, thumb gently rubbing the side of your arm. "Are you saying I can't hold a grudge?" you ask, feeling as Jayce fixes your hair our of your face.

"Well, I was trying not to say it like that-" you scoff as Evren treats you with a deadpan stare looking between you and Jayce expectantly. "This means nothing right now," you say, wrapping Jayces arm around your front and playing with his fingers. Jayce stiffens staring down at you yet you look forwards- having a silent conversation with Evren who sighs, "okay, goodnight you two. I can trust you to make sure she makes it to the couch, right?"

"Of course," Jayce says, squeezing you against him for a moment as you smile and wave goodbye to your friend, listening to the door close behind him before stepping out of his touch. "Did you... really mean that?" Jayce asks, not expecting a confident answer since you still appear under the influence.

"No, just had to stick it to him," Jayce chuckles before saying something he hopes you will not remember in the morning, "I miss you, so much... I just want you back but I'll wait... forever if I have to but I'll always live with hope." You look at Jayce for a long moment before heading towards your bedroom. Jayce stands there in the kitchen wondering if you even heard him before hearing your voice whisper-shout down the hall.

"I miss you too... I just want to make sure its more than that first."

─────── · ·

─ · · In the morning you her Xiema in the kitchen, the local news radio ringing through the apartment as you groan and place a pillow over your head, I really have to start saying no to nights out, I'm getting to old for this feeling...

─ · · You startle at the sound of a knock at your door, but Xiema's in the kitchen? Jayce sighs from behind the door, gently opening the door but not looking in as he calls to you, "Morning sweetheart, my mom told me to come and wake you up. Evren wrote in saying you both were..." Jayce contains a laugh, ""sick" this morning." You mumble something incoherent that Jayce only picks up the end of, "...come here."

─ · · Jayce opens your door fully before walking over to your bedside and crouching down to look at your face as you smile at him lazily. Pulling your hand from underneath the covers to hold his cheek, feeling as he nuzzles into your touch- closing his eyes as he drinks in the moment not knowing when the next time would come... if ever, he feels his heart drop as you watch his expression become pained. Guilt gnaws at your chest as you roll yourself over underneath the covers before patting at the empty spot.

Jayce opens his eyes, eyebrow raised as if to confirm. You nod your head and extend your hands to welcome his warmth to your side, intertwining your legs together as you rest your head on his arm and press a kiss to his chin, "I love you," your murmur, not confident enough to look at him in your soberness with the confession.

Jayce gently tips your head back in his direction, his other hand massages your thigh as you hum at the feeling while looking into his eyes filled with nothing short of pure adoration, "I love you too, princess."

You swat his chest before trying to crawl away, "no! you don't get to say that!" you yell into your pillow, holding it to your face once feeling his heavy arms wrap around your torso, touch calling you back to him. "Say what? princess?" he teases, purposefully using his groggy morning voice while taking away your pillow- you kick your feet. "Stop it," you huff, hair sticking up in all positions as you sit up and glare at him watching as his arm flexes from behind his head as he looks up at you, "I love watching your cheeks flush for me."

Your jaw drops as you are at a loss for words, "Jayce-" you warn feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest. "I love hearing my name from between your lips." You throw yourself out of bed, "and I love you in my clothes."

"This is too much now, Jayce!" you plead for mercy (though you love it) as you run out down the hall and towards the kitchen as Jayce chases after you. "Morning Xiema!" you chime watching as she turns around to see Jayce hugging you form behind with a large smile that matches her own, "Good morning to you both, now who I made a few options..."

─ · · You all sit at the kitchen table together, passing food and the coffee pot. Jayce places an arm over the back of your chair, playing with your hair as you look apologetically towards his mom who just smiles brightly seeing you both together again.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: thinkin' 2 more chapters? 🤔 or... idk, I love these two together so much but I don't want to over do it! 😅

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123

[oydis]

I know that it’s meant to limit anonymous hate, but I can’t help feeling kinda bummed about the fact that now people need a Tumblr account to ask questions.

I used to think that I loved that part of Tumblr, allowing anyone to interact with anyone else even without being a user. I did also take advantage of this feature myself, and came to ask a few questions in the past.

It felt way more democratic over Twitter’s and Instagram’s policies, where you can’t even rewatch a video if you’re not logged in, and can only scroll a couple of times…

And it’s funny because I still have a draft dated Feb 7, 2021 talking about how much I appreciated the Tumblr asks system and how frustrating it feels to want to just tell an artist on one of those other platforms “You are amazing, I love your work!” but being unable to do so without registering first

[euthymiya]

Sukuna who was never close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.

[schoenpepper]

Midnight pumpkins and mirrors

Intro: A countdown to midnight, when the dark mirror can finally send you back to your own home. Tick tock, Cinderella!

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, angst-ish, reader is yuu, open ending, gory descriptions just a bit

A/N: This one's a little longer than the others, but hey, a finale's gotta be grand, right? Happy birthday to my baby darling sweetheart babygirl love of my life Jade!!! and floyd too ig idk. The extras will all be posted at 6, I just have to link them up so if you want a working navigation system, maybe wait til 6:15 or something. Taglist will start after this event.

Masterlist

Jade's Birthday Countdown

Extras: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[2:00 pm. 10 hours to 12.]

“Y/N! There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

Now that’s a voice you don’t hear everyday. You take a deep breath in preparation for his bullshit and swivel on your heels. Crowley seems happy as he waves his cane and the thick tome in his other hand, decorated with jewels and black velvet. “I have excellent news!” he exclaims, and you ready yourself for yet another task to fulfill in his name, “I’ve found a way to send you home!”

…That was not what you expected him to say.

There’s happiness, of course. You miss your parents, your family. You almost miss normalcy. There’s a little bit of relief, as if your soul itself is sighing that finally, you could go home. But more evident than all of those feelings is your heart falling to your stomach—so heavily weighing you down with such little words. Because as much as you miss your family, you have family here too, right? You belong here as much as you belonged in your old world.

But it’s not like you can choose to stay. 

This isn’t the place you’re supposed to be, even if it feels right.

You’re weak, and you’re magicless, and you stir up so much trouble and danger on a daily basis unlike you’ve ever known. But earth is all you’ve ever known. Crowley waves the book again, right in front of your face, as if to pull you back down to reality. “I’ll set the coordinates in the Dark Mirror. At exactly 12 am tonight, the portal will open, but until then,” his smile widens, “my benevolent and kind self will allow you to say goodbye to your friends. Just remember to be there at 12, okay? It’s very difficult—almost impossible—to open a second portal, so don’t miss this chance.”

Right. Don’t miss it.

You’ll say goodbye. And maybe, leave your boyfriend and Grim for last.

[2:30 pm. 9 hours 30 minutes to 12]

Heartslabyul always smells like roses and baked goods. You hate to interrupt the gathering, but you wave to your friends with a small smile on your face. Even if you’re devastated, you need to seem happy. Because it’s right to smile. Because it’s right to be excited to go home.

“I’m leaving.”

Ace and Deuce seem confused, questioning you about it, Cater’s eyes are wide with surprise as he drops his fork back onto his plate with a loud clatter. Trey is quiet. But Riddle looks like he immediately understood what you meant, an expression of hurt on his face.

“Where are you going?” Deuce asks.

“Home.”

The silence is deafeningly loud.

“I came to say goodbye. Thank you for taking care of me.”

You can’t even find it in yourself to look at them as you walk away. Riddle, Cater, and Trey were like your older siblings, while Ace and Deuce were the first people to befriend you in this strange place. At this point, they’re already a part of you. 

It feels like your flesh has been ripped out, your organs trailing behind you as you walk out of Heartslabyul.

[3:00 pm. 9 hours to 12]

The sun is beating down on your back at Savanaclaw, and you push through despite the tears running down your cheeks and the sweat dripping down your back. In any case, you’re soaked. Ruggie sees you first, and he drags you over worriedly to Leona.

“Oy, herbivore, who did this to you?” Leona sounds so harsh even when he’s gently wiping your tears away with a handkerchief.

Ruggie is folding laundry, watching you, and Jack is patting your back as you sob.

“No one,” you hiccup.

“Then why’re you crying so much?”

“I’m sad,” you mumble, and Leona rolls his eyes. Still, the lion beastman takes you into his arms and hugs you tight.

“That’s a stupid reason to be crying.”

“Leona,” it hurts, but it has to be done, “I’m leaving. Forever.”

Your trek to Scarabia is accompanied by an echo of growls and the vivid illusions of animal ears pressed flat in an instinctive sadness.

[3:30 pm. 8 hours 30 minutes to 12]

There’s a distinct lack of music and confetti and frills when you step foot into the decorated dorm lounge of the Sorcerer of the Sands. It seems like the whole place and all its occupants are entranced in gorgeous dreams, with a lot of students napping on the carpets like cats. Jamil and Kalim are sitting at the corner of the room with a small tray of snacks, the former stitching a piece of cloth and the latter staring hard at a textbook. The sunny red-eyed housewarden positively beams when he notices your presence, and Jamil has to tug on his arm to remind him not to wake up the sleeping Scarabia students.

“Y/N! Want a cracker?”

You deny Kalim’s enthusiastic offer and sit down.

The happiness seems to drain right out of him when he notices your eyes swollen with tears. “Kalim, Jamil,” you take a deep breath. The day’s already tired you out enough, but it hasn’t numbed you to the point that you could so easily do the thing you set out to do. “I’m here to say goodbye.”

There’s a look of quiet shock and disappointment, but Kalim’s sadness is loud.

You can still hear it as you leave the desert.

[4:00 pm. 8 hours to 12]

Rook already knows. Of course he does. You can tell.

He’s looking at you with a scarily blank expression, as if he’s trying his best not to let his emotions leak out of him from the very moment you stepped into the grandeur of Pomefiore. Epel is standing beside Vil who was sitting elegantly atop his throne. The atmosphere is one of an execution.

But it’s unknown who holds the ax.

“Rook said you had something to tell me?”

“Something to say to all three of you,” you correct him, “I’m here to say goodbye. Crowley found a way for me to go home.”

As expected, like most of your other friends, Vil and Epel stay silent at your declaration.

“Wait,” the beautiful housewarden signals, “let me pack you a few things to go.”

Epel chimes in with teary eyes that he forces back, “I’ll grab you some apple juice that you can take home with you.”

[5:00 pm. 7 hours to 12]

You walk into Ignihyde with your arms stuffed full of self care products and apple snacks and juice. The halls are empty as usual, so you make your way to Idia’s room and kick at it gently to make noise, sniffling. It’s opened by Ortho.

“Y/N L/N! What a nice surprise,” Ortho pulls you in, and you see Idia passed out on his bed, almost suffocating underneath a pile of blankets, “I can wake him up for you if it’s urgent.”

“Um, I can wake him up myself.”

You sit down on the mattress.

“Idia,” you poke at his face, “wake up. I’m here to say goodbye.”

“Mmh…where are you…going…?”

“Home. Forever.”

His golden yellow eyes flutter open, expression blank as he looks at you sleepily. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

[6:00 pm. 6 hours to 12]

By the time you get to the castle of Diasomnia, you’re already lugging a high-tech suitcase around. In it are the things that Vil and Epel forced on you, while Idia passed his favorite anime figure into your hands and told you to take care of it well. Ortho gave you the suitcase so you didn’t have to walk around with an armful of stuff.

To be honest, you dreaded this goodbye almost as much as you hated it when you had to give your farewell to Heartslabyul. If only because Malleus had also become one of the most important friends you’ve had in this place. And he has no other friends besides you. It’s less that you’re fearful of his reaction and more worried about this strange fae companion of yours. With you leaving, who would come on long walks with him through abandoned ruins in search of gargoyles? Who would patiently attempt to teach him the ways of modern technology?

It can no longer be you.

In any case, only Lilia takes it well.

You feel like shit when Malleus is looking at you with teary eyes, like a puppy abandoned by its owner. Sebek doesn’t make it any better when he’s yelling at you for making his liege upset. Silver is looking at the floor, but you can see the tension on his shoulders and the harsh grip he’s keeping on his mug. Lilia smiles at you so joyfully and it’s the only one you’d seen all day.

“We all say goodbye someday,” he takes you in an embrace, “yours is just a bit earlier, hm? Go home. Your parents must miss you a lot.”

You nod.

Green lightning crackles in the distance as you walk back to the mirror.

[6:30 pm. 5 hours 30 minutes to 12]

Ramshackle is quiet. Even the ghosts seem to have realized the severity of your situation—shying away from you and the tears that haven't stopped falling since several hours ago. You leave the suitcase at the door and head towards your room.

Grim’s taking a nap.

“Grim,” you whisper as you wake him up, cradling him in your arms, “I have something to tell you.”

“Hench human?”

“I’m leaving.”

You leave for the last dorm with your suitcase and scratches littering your arms, your shoulder soaked with the direbeast’s tears.

He promised to meet you again in the Hall of Mirrors before 12.

[7:00 pm. 5 hours to 12]

Saying goodbye to Floyd and Azul was okay. It wasn’t any harder than saying goodbye to any of your other friends. Still, they share a look with each other that you take as a warning to yourself.

You sit down at one of the tables.

Floyd promises to drag Jade over.

Azul picks up an apron and a notepad to help run orders.

“I was given a sudden break,” your boyfriend sits beside you with a grin after a few minutes, “and I was wondering what you told Azul that made him so willing to cover for me.”

You take his hand.

And take a breath.

And still, you don’t have enough courage. Not yet. You give him a smile past tears that blurred your vision, and he worriedly wipes them away. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“I’ll tell you,” you press a kiss to the back of his hand, “but will you spend a few hours with me? Let’s just…cuddle, maybe.”

Jade agrees and pulls you to his room.

[8:00 pm. 4 hours to 12]

It feels so warm within his embrace. Draped in his blankets, wrapped in his arms—it feels right.

[9:00 pm. 3 hours to 12]

“And there’s a special flower that’ll bloom on that day. Will you come with me to see it?”

“...Maybe not.”

“Then I will take many pictures for you. And perhaps bring one back as a specimen.”

[10:00 pm. 2 hours to 12]

“My parents have mentioned wanting to meet you. Could you spare me some time for the next holiday?”

“They want to meet me?”

“They do.”

“What did you tell them about me?”

[11:00 pm. 1 hour to 12]

“I have to go.”

The smile fades from Jade’s expression. He holds on tight to your wrist, speaking lightly, “Where are you going? How long will you be gone?”

He’s so unreasonably perceptive.

“Why are you unable to make plans with me? Do you wish to end our relationship?”

You don’t want to.

“Y/N. What are you hiding from me?”

But you must.

“Jade,” you break out into sobs, “I’m going home. I’m never coming back. I’m so sorry, I just, I wanted to spend more time with you. Just a little more time.”

There’s anger in his eyes, disappointment and shock and irritation. He’s so scarily still. Until he lets your wrist go and turns away. “Then leave,” he says quietly, “I bid you farewell.”

[11:10]

The lounge is already closed.

[11:20]

The roads are deserted.

[11:30]

The Hall of Mirrors, however, is crowded. You see all of your friends waiting for you, some smiling, some sobbing.

[11:40]

You hug Grim to your chest. You can’t cry anymore. All your tears are dried up.

[11:50]

“Not even a second thought? I tell you to leave and you do?”

You freeze when Jade enters the hall. He’s still in his dorm uniform, unchanged from when you’d whisked him away from work hours ago. You can say that he’s mad, but more than that, he looks so hurt. Not a single person says anything as he walks towards you.

[10 seconds]

“Were you lying when you said you loved me?”

“No, Jade, I love you—”

“Just not enough to stay?”

[9]

“I have family waiting for me. My parents are waiting for me!”

“And so you betray my trust. You leave me behind.”

[8]

“I can’t stay.”

[7]

“Or you don’t want to.”

[6]

“Jade, I don’t want to leave you.”

[5]

For the first time since the day you met him, Jade Leech seems to be crying. He doesn’t acknowledge the tears as they fall.

“Then don’t leave.”

[4]

“Please…just stay…”

[3]

“I’ll give you everything.”

[2]

“Stay with me. With us. I beg you.”

[1]

Hey. Check out the sequel. K bye.

[sebscore]

THE GRID'S DELIGHT | SERIES MASTERLIST

summary: the shenanigans of female gen z driver and the formula one grid.

author’s note: I started this series, because I'd like to imagine what it would be like to be part of the group of drivers and how it would be like to interact with them on a regular basis. It's all fun and games, and I don't know these people in real life. everything is fiction! the stories aren't written in chronological order, but I try to put them in the right order below! 

Requests are always welcome in my inbox! Opinions, thoughts and feedback are also greatly appreciated.

— ABOUT THE OC

HEADCANONS || MORE HEADCANONS

:: Things about being the only female driver on the ‘22 grid.

DRIVER X TGD HEADCANONS

:: The dynamics between driver!reader and the formula 1 drivers. in the link you can find the masterlist.

EXTRAS

:: this includes thoughts, opinions, etc about the series. it doesn’t include requests.

— 2018

WELCOME TO THE STRANGE WORLD 

:: Y/N makes her F1 debut at the 2018 Australian Grand Prix. 

THE PRIZE THAT KEEPS ON GIVING

:: Y/N accepts the 'Rookie of the Year' award and receives a suprise from a special someone on stage.

— 2020 

TWITCH WAR

:: lando insults Y/N’s gaming skills and the events that followed.

PLEASE RISE FOR THE NATIONAL ANTHEM

:: An error in the sound system causes for the wrong song to play instead of Y/N’s national anthem.

— 2021 

THE MORE YOU KNOW

:: Y/N teaches Sebastian and Fernando what ‘bop’ means.

NO ONE LIKES A MAD WOMAN

:: Y/N receives a complaint from the FIA during the driver's briefing and no one is happy about it.

BREAK UP WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND, I'M BORED 

:: Y/N flirts with a stranger not knowing she's the girlfriend of another F1 driver on the grid. 

THIS IS ALL I NEVER WANTED

:: Y/N goes through a rough patch and the drivers notice.

LET IT SPIRAL

:: Y/N gets into a crash and Seb & George come to the rescue.

SLOW DOWN, RED FLAG

:: The commentators are shocked by Y/N’s red flag habit.

BE YOUR WINGMAN

:: Y/N tries to get through an interview with Jenson, Daniel and Sebastian. 

GIDDY GOODBYES

:: Y/N and Kimi bid each other goodbye at the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

— 2022

A MAN’S WORLD

:: Y/N is asked about Christian Horner’s sexist comments.

THE ORIGIN OF RUSSY BUSSY

:: the title is pretty self-explanatory.

WHAT HAPPENS IN MONACO, STAYS IN MONACO

:: Y/N goes on a blind date and returns with a hickey the next day.

THE HELMET BET

:: Y/N and Zhou decide who the second best dressed driver on the grid is through a bet that involves holding the other drivers hostage at the driver's briefing.

GOSSIP GRID

:: Charles and Pierre don't trust Y/N when it comes to rumors around Oscar Piastri's move to McLaren.

RUMOUR HAS IT

:: Y/N and her fellow younger drivers react to certain rumours that have been going around about her love life, and it might include two colleagues of hers.

MONZA MANICURE

:: Daniel makes it up to Y/N for breaking her nail during a race.

LITTLE MISS BLACK DRESS

:: f1 drivers and their reactions to Y/N looking gorgeous in a dress.

KEEPING UP WITH THE GRID

:: What happens when Y/N takes over Martin's grid walk? 

THE LAST SUPPER

:: The drivers celebrate the life and career of Sebastian Vettel at Abu Dhabi and Y/N has a great story to tell.

— 2023 

INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY 

:: Daniel, Lewis and Sebastian show their appreciation for Y/N on International Women's Day. 

GLASS HALF FULL KINDA GAL

:: Y/N goes on Instagram live to try out Daniel’s new wine, and the drivers react to it in the comments.

MONTE-CARLO MADNESS

:: Y/N meets her old mentor after months and experiences a chaotic qualifying in Monaco.

PUT IT INTO SPEED DRIVE

:: Y/N and the Twitch Quartet go on a small adventure in the streets of Monaco.

SNITCHES GET STITCHES

:: A collection of moments at the 2023 Austria Grand Prix.

LATE NIGHT TALKING

:: Pierre asks the question: “Out of all the drivers, who would you date?”

— 2024

EXCUSE ME

:: Y/N finds out about Lewis’ Ferrari move before the official announcement.

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS

:: Lando ends Y/N’s race, and they have different perspectives on how it transpired.

[rynwritesreid]

The Perfect Girl || Spencer Reid.

Summary: You are Spencers dream girl, everything is perfect about you. However, there is something you can’t tell Spencer as it will put his life in danger.

Content: Reader is basically on the run from some bad people. AFAB reader who goes by she/her. It’s kind of angst and full of fluff :) Use of Y/N.

Words: 1.5k

Masterlist | requests are open | Navigation

You were Spencer’s dream girl; all his colleagues and friends knew you were the perfect girl for him. From the moment Spencer saw you, he knew you were the one. You were smart, you could argue your way out of anything and most importantly you always stood up for what you believed in, no matter the consequences you may face. Spencer could not get enough of you. You were a light in a world full of darkness for him.

 

So, when you just disappeared, he was left confused and alone. That wasn’t something you would do; it was totally out of character for him. You would have said goodbye, whether that in person, through a text or on a note. You wouldn’t have just left him like this.

Spencer searched for you everywhere. He looked in all the places he thought you might go, the places you mentioned you loved visiting growing up or places you took him, but you were nowhere to be found. As days turned into weeks, Spencer grew more and more frustrated. He missed your fiery spirit and the way you challenged him to be a better person.

 

He had asked Garcia for help; she could track anyone down. But you were smart. You had left all belongs that could be traced in your old apartment. You didn’t use any bank accounts; you face wasn’t found on any security cameras or systems. You were now just a ghost.

 

Spencer was at his wit's end. He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again. He knew he had to do something, anything to find you. He spent every moment of his free time pouring over any information he could find about you. He was determined to find a lead, no matter how small.

 

He would get angry at himself, he worked for the FBI, part of his job was searching for people. So why couldn’t he find you? Then he would get angry at you, why did you leave without saying anything, were you in trouble or did you just get bored? Spencer wanted to give up, you obviously didn’t want to be found, so why should he keep searching.

 

But despite his frustration and anger, Spencer couldn't help but worry about you. He knew that you were capable of taking care of yourself, but he couldn't shake the feeling that you were in trouble. He spent countless nights lying awake, trying to think of any leads or clues that could lead him to you.

 

He knew that there was only one person he knew that could truly help him in this situation. She had disappeared before, and she was able to keep part of her history a secret. Emily Prentiss. She was the only one who could possibly understand why someone would do this, and where they would go to hide.

 

Spencer picked up the phone and dialled Emily's number. It rang a few times before she picked up.

 

"Reid, it's good to hear from you. What's going on?" Emily's voice was warm and comforting.

 

"It's about Y/N. She's disappeared and I can't find her. I've tried everything. I don't know what to do." Spencer's voice was strained, and he could feel himself starting to panic.

 

"Okay, Reid. Take a deep breath. Let's go over everything you've done so far." Emily's calm voice helped steady Spencer. They spent the next few hours going over all of Spencer's attempts to find you.

 

"Okay, I have an idea," Emily finally said. "There's a group of people I used to know. They're kind of like a... rogue organization. They know how to disappear without a trace. If anyone would know where Y/N is, it would be them."

 

Spencer leaned forward; his interest piqued. "What kind of organization?" he asked.

Emily hesitated for a moment before answering. "They're a group of people who specialize in helping individuals disappear. It's not technically legal, but they only help people who are in danger or need to start fresh for whatever reason."

 

Spencer nodded, understanding. "Do you think they'll help me find Y/N?"

 

Emily shrugged. "It's worth a shot. I can make some calls and see if any of my old contacts are still active. But Spencer, you have to understand that this could be dangerous. These people don't mess around."

 

Spencer didn't care. He was willing to do whatever it took to find you. "I'll do whatever it takes," he said firmly.

 

You were safe, you weren’t happy, but you were safe. It took all of your will power to disappear and not tell Spencer anything. You loved him, but this needed to happen.

 

You were now living under a new identity, in a small but quaint town. You had a new job and a new home, but you always had the feeling of someone watching you. You knew your past was eventually going to catch up with you, it was something you had constant nightmares about.

 

One day, you received a phone call from an unknown number. You answered hesitantly, and a voice on the other end spoke.

 

"Is this Y/N?" the voice asked.

 

You froze. How did someone find you? "Who is this?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

 

"My name is Emily Prentiss. I used to work with Spencer at the FBI."

 

You felt your heart racing. Did Spencer send her to find you? "What do you want?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

 

"I know you disappeared for a reason, and I'm not here to judge you for that. Spencer asked for my help in finding you.”

 

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you. You wanted to see Spencer so badly, but you knew that it was dangerous for both of you. "I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to be found," you said firmly.

 

"Y/N, I know you're scared. But Spencer is so worried about you. He misses you so much, and he just wants to know that you're safe," Emily said gently.

 

Tears welled up in your eyes. You missed Spencer too, but you weren't sure if you were ready to face him just yet. "I need some time to think," you said finally. "Can I call you back?"

 

"Of course. Take all the time you need. But please, consider talking to Spencer," Emily said before hanging up the phone.

You spent the next few days agonizing over what to do. You missed Spencer more than anything, but you were still afraid. Finally, you decided.

You would meet with Spencer, but only once. You knew that seeing him again would only make it harder to stay hidden. But you couldn't bear the thought of him thinking that you didn't care about him at all.

 

You called Emily and told her that you were willing to meet with Spencer, but only under certain conditions. Emily agreed and made the necessary arrangements.

 

The day of the meeting arrived, and you were nervous. You dressed in a plain outfit, nothing that would make you stand out. You arrived at the meeting place and saw Spencer waiting for you.

 

He looked relieved and overjoyed to see you, and it took everything in you not to run into his arms. You sat down across from him, keeping your face hidden as much as possible.

 

"Y/N," he said softly. "I'm so glad you're okay."

 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Spencer looked at you with concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.

 

“I’m okay, but I am going to have disappear again after this. Spencer, I love you, and I did this for us. I was putting your life in danger and your career in jeopardy. When I was teenager, I got mixed up things, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. There are people out there who are trying to find me and well kill me.” You paused; you couldn’t let Spencer know everything.

 

Spencer looked at you, his face full of love and concern. "Y/N, I understand that you were trying to protect me, but I can't bear the thought of losing you again. Please, let me help you. We can figure this out together."

 

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "Spencer, I can't let you do that. You have a life here, a job, a future. I can't let my problems drag you down with me."

 

Spencer reached across the table and took your hand. "Y/N, I love you. I don't care about any of that. All I care about is being with you and keeping you safe. Please, let me help you.”

 

“Spencer, if I do let you help me. You’ve got to promise that you won’t die or put yourself in harm’s way. Because if you do, I won’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

 

Spencer looked at you, his eyes full of determination. "I promise, Y/N. I will do everything in my power to keep us both safe. We can do this together."

 

You looked into his eyes, and you knew that he meant every word. Slowly, you nodded. "Okay, Spencer. I'll let you help me."

 

Spencer smiled; relief evident on his face. "Thank you, Y/N. We'll figure this out together."

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[amphitriteswife]

Teacher (and subjects) head cannons!:

(I’m from the netherlands and the school here has a different grading system. Also collage and highschool are one thing. So highschool is 4,5 or 6 years depending on which grade you get on tests and stuff in elementary so please bear with me)

Poseidon:

You would think that he would teach biology but you would be wrong. He would teach Physics or some high level math.

The type to not let anyone in after the bell rings

Doesn’t care if you end up dead in the class you will not go to the bathroom during his lesson

Stands by the door to make sure you put it in those phone pockets thingy

Gives the most homework out of all the teachers

Wears formal clothes, always. Suits, blazer, slacks ect.

You will never catch him on a bad hair day

If he catches you cheating on a test, you can say goodbye to that grade because he will give you a zero.

He does sometimes turn a blind eye if you’re on the brink of not passing and don’t choose his subject. (You do need to be on the brink. So not like a 3 or sum)

Hates electronics so he just wants everyone to use a paper and the book. No laptops.

Only talkes to some teachers like Hades and Thor

Students think he’s either the worst or just eye candy

Has won the the contest of best man titties by students

People actually ended up crying in his class and he didn’t give a damn

Sends people out 2 minutes before the time and doesn’t care if they beg.

If you have him as a substitute you can start praying because you’ll miss your regular teacher

Types with one finger if he’s on his phone (rare sight)

Checks homework. As in not just looking but actually reading your calculations.

He sometimes even grades your homework or puts them for bonuses

He sometimes reads if it’s work time and he finishes his lecture

Got drunk one time during school dance and started breakdancing. Hades was supportive and filmed it.

Hades

Teaches history

Is well with his colleagues and is well liked by students

He’s not strict with phones but please don’t use them in his class

You sometimes do work. He mostly explains and writes notes on the white board for you to write down

Is very, very passionate about certain topics. His favorites would be the world wars and the greek/ roman empire.

Is that type of teacher that you could tell anything. School, home, hobbies. He won’t mind and he’s equally interested.

Has a mentor class every year and he helps them a lot.

His class is very popular and lots of people choose his subject, so popular that people who don’t take it sometimes ask if they can stay and also follow it for fun

Almost never gives homework

He makes planners, notes, power points. Anything that may help his students.

He even lets the class watch films so that they understand it better, he usually choses for oversimplified if he needs to explain the word wars

You can eat in his class as long as you keep it clean and don’t throw stuff

Smells like rituals. Flowers. Very addictive and good. Sniff

Is present at the school dance and school parties. He helps with carrying and making sure the students don’t do stupid stuff

He doesn’t even need to discuss about his students’ grades because all his students do good in his class

Is rated to have the biggest dick by the students.

Also wears formal clothes. So like a suit, but if he crosses his legs you can see that he wears funky socks. Like a bright purple with colorful cupcakes on it or a bright blue with yellow ducks on it.

Gives extra lessons if you don’t understand.

You know how when someone asks teachers about their life? If you do that he gets so happy and explains a lot

Shows pictures of Melinoe and Zagreus from when they were babies.

He brought a 4 year old melinoe with him one time and the class played with her. If she was not playing with the students she was probably in her father’s lap.

He also shows pictures of Persephone. Every time he talks about her you can hear the love in his voice. (I’m Persephone reincarnated)

Hermes

Teaches music ofcourse

You would think that music was easy but it really isn’t. You need to able to read music notes. You get 2 tests, playing and theory.

Helps well if you need assistance with your instruments

Gives surprise tests to see if you actually did the homework

He loves and i mean looooveeees gossip

He doesn’t say much but listens when a student says something about another teacher

Handles the school musical

You actually need to put effort if you want to pass

Doesn’t take away your phone if he sees you with it. Just stares from behind on it until you notice.

doesn’t sent people out of the class, just gives them extra homework

He never, ever stops smiling. The class is being too loud? He’ll sit in his chair and simply drink his tea while glaring with a smile.

Some students find him scary because of how polite he is, because they can feel that underlying anger.

Knows how to make a student’s life miserable if they make his class unbearable.

You threw paper at him and made the class disruptive? Boom 4 chapters done by the next lesson and all the texts should be 4 times written. In cursive

He is usually seen with the principal (Zeus)

Buddha

Geography teacher

Why? Because he often travels for different kind of reasons.

Eating is allowed, as well as chewing gun

Is great with the students and most people just choose his subject because he’s chill

Doesn’t prepare lessons. He just talks and the students get it

If he does have a powerpoint he promotes his insta, tiktok and his snap

Loves to know about different cultures

Had a diss battle in his class once and almost got into trouble

Called someone emo

If you eat in his class prepare to share.

Asks people if they can bring him coffee from the teachers’ room

You cannot tell me that dawg didn’t pull up in Jordans

Is also present at the school dance and actually bribes the dg for some songs

Doesn’t really care if you skip his class. He either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice.

He too has a mentor class. He has private talks and doesn’t mind if you tell him his problems and genuinely tries to help

Doesn’t give homework unless it’s necessary.

Beelzebub

Creepy Science teacher

Got called emo by Buddha

Doesn’t hesitate to threaten students

He never cares if you don’t show up, but he will rat you out because funny

Has been detected to smile when he does weird stuff. Like cutting things open

Is always in his lab and he’s the only one who can enter with a key

Someone made a sticker of his face and the whole school used it, again he doesn’t care

Had like those weird pots with stuff in it

Doesn’t allow anyone to touch them. He does demonstrate stuff if you ask nicely

Let’s you go early but it’s not in a nice way. He’ll only do it because he doesn’t want to teach anymore for the day

Doesn’t even go to lunch, he just remains in his lab

He only goes to halloween parties

Cyberbullies people. Teachers and students included

Runs the anti *insert school* accounts

Will not care if the school burns down. He hates everyone and everything. Except Hades, because he’s cool

Doesn’t care if you eat or drink. (He may or may not have put something in it for his experiments)

‘Students are like little monsters’ is his motto. He’ll treat them like it too

If you fail his tests he’ll sometimes give you one to retake

Thank ya’ll for reading :p

I’m gonna make a part 2. I think. Maybe some with the human fighters

[vintagegeekculture]

RIP Tracy Tormé, Creator of the "Holodeck Malfunction Episode" and Sliders

Tracy Tormé’s most enduring legacy in popular culture is that, while a writer on TNG’s tempestuous first and second seasons, he created the entire concept of the Holodeck Malfunction Episode.

Yes, even people who suggest you skip TNG’s first couple seasons say that “The Big Goodbye” is one you don’t want to miss. And there was a very nice tribute to Tracy Torme in an episode of Picard, which had him as the author and creator of Dixon Hill�� which he is, and deserves credit for this.

I suppose I should mention I had a personal encounter with Tracy Tormé at a convention. The main thing I remember was that he looked absolutely terrified when someone asked him about what happened with “The Royale,” far and away TNG’s worst episode except the clip show, about the crew getting trapped on a hotel they can’t leave from a badly written book. To his great credit, he took responsibility for the episode not working and did not pass on the problems to the production crew.

The most extraordinary thing about Tracy Torme is that he had a Forrest Gump like ability to appear in the background of scifi culture’s greatest moments.

Not only was he inside the TNG writers’ room in 1987-88, he was around during the production of Terminator with James Cameron. Tormé was the one who, hearing about the production of the film, squealed on it to Harlan Ellison, telling Ellison that it was based on his old Outer Limits episodes, with a visual based on his script for “Demon With a Glass Hand.” In other words, he was the Gavrilo Princip who got that entire conflict started, where two of the most proud personalities in scifi butted heads, James Cameron vs. Ellison. Cameron, to this day, insists that the film company gave Ellison money and a credit because it was easier to pay him off than to go through litigation (which rings true, frankly, for risk averse production companies), and to this day Cameron insists, with his absolutely expected big dick swagger, that Ellison is a “parasite” who received money for nothing, and if it had been up to him, he wouldn’t have given him a dime.

It’s also worth mentioning that Torme also created the TV series Sliders.

Has anyone else noticed that Sliders is an incredibly right wing show? Seriously, watch it again if you haven’t seen it in years. If you haven’t watched this show since the 90s and you were a kid and all that went over your head, it’s kind of amazing how Limbaugh/Newt Gingrich era right-wing Sliders actually was. It made 24 look like Doonesbury. The targets of Sliders were 90s New Right satire: health care systems, infuriating hippies, the nanny state disallowing the public smoking of cigars, California weirdness, the drug culture, the USSR. Torme’s right wing views were less John Millius-style “blood alone moves the wheel of history” stuff, but more like that of a slobby regular joe in the 90s, Dennis Leary’s character in Demolition Man for instance, who mostly just wants to smoke cigars, ogle girls, and eat hamburgers without getting scolded by his wife. He was less “Passion of the Christ” and more “Animal House.”

I am not saying this as a negative, but merely a description. Contrary to popular belief, right wingers driven by bizarre sexual pathology and weird grudges produce amazing art, as Millius and John Swartzwelder show. A lot of Steven Universe fans love to say things like “all good art is about empathy and kindness” and I reject that notion. Good art can also be about reflecting things in the human experience like fear, trauma, cruelty, and paranoia.

For that reason, it doesn’t surprise me that Tracy Torme’s best movie script was a horror film about a traumatic experience, Fire in the Sky. An ominous movie about a vanished ranch hand who was the victim of alien abduction, in the earned finale the film’s tension builds toward, our hero remembers the true cause of his missing time: an abduction by aliens, who’s motives are emotionless and incomprehensible, and who subject him to horrific vivisection that we see in excruciating detail. Travis Walton is treated not with sadism or cruelty, but with icy detachment, by alien superintellects that view him as no different than cattle, and are to him as we are to cattle. The most terrifying detail of the film is that the classic “gray alien” look turns out to be spacesuits, revealing a far more frightening appearance underneath.

[friendlyengie]

i bloody love your fem merc designs, but wheres the love for medics ex wife?? you cant just drop a bomb ass character and the not give her a lil attention

you’re absolutely right and I’m so sorry. She’s been one of the hardest to pin down but this ask inspired me to give her more appreciation. Gobless you. Here’s some images

Um. Big? Tall. I’ll never understand the way people slim down any iteration of fem medic like. She should be just as ripped as he is. This is how love wins. Medic is pretty similar to canon medic in regards to her appearance, but that’s counteracted by their very different personalities. She’s a lot more professional than he is, holding herself and her work in high regard. Their methods are more alike than she’d admit in regards to the whole “affront to god” theme, but she’s convinced in one way or another that she’s on a higher level than he is just because she doesn’t do a mad scientist laugh every time she has some sort of breakthrough.

She uses her monopoly on healing to keep the rest of her team on a tight leash. If they act up when she’s around (or just annoy her at the wrong time of day) they can kiss any direct support on the battlefield goodbye. And any support they want outside of work hours is done through a barter system. As in, they come to her with broken arms or missing limbs, and she berates them for whatever stupid thing they were doing and says she’ll fix them if they let her try out some new super cool and safe method she’s been planning or whatever. Normal woman hours.

Her teams engineer is the one thing keeping her from total control of the team on account of her own support mechanics. and Medic HATES her for that. Old woman rivalry

lots of a words not a lot of quality images… wanted to draw something bigger for her but these have been on the back burner long enough. Hope you guys like mean old women! That’s all I got here!

QUICK EDIT sorry if any of this is incoherent it’s midnight and I’ve been fighting against the melatonin I took an hour ago in order to post this before I sleep. Thank you for the ask btw ^_^

[cyren-myadd]

Can you write a snippet of Quaritch following through with his version of “an old school ass whipping”

Nothing too serious because I don’t think he’d abuse Spider but I do think he’d be the type of parent to resort to physical discipline if pushed enough.

In the exchange between him and Spider, Spider does not seemed alarmed with fear and is actually a little cheeky. I think he’s used to adults just letting him get away with things.

I think it’s be interesting to read Spider’s reaction to an adult/authority figure disciplining him (whether physical or some other punishment) for not following instructions rather than just checking to see if he has not been harmed.

It doesn’t have to relate to him running off which is where Quaritch uses the threat. It could be anything.

Okay, so I know you requested me to write about Quaritch disciplining Spider, but I’ve seen that explored a bunch of times before, and honestly, after what I wrote in Blood Is Thicker Than Water, I’ve kind of gotten a bad taste in my mouth for writing disciplinary scenes involving Quaritch. Idk why, but your ask gave me inspiration for a scene of Jake disciplining Spider instead, and it ended up taking a pretty different direction than your request. Sorry that this isn’t exactly what you requested, but I wanted to write something that I haven’t seen explored by other writers before, so I hope you still enjoy it!

Lucky Number Five (6k words)

One.

Two.

Three.

Jake counted the children in the marui, and then he counted them again. Tuk napped in the back corner of their home, nestled among her blankets. That was one. Lo’ak stood at the entrance of the marui, waving goodbye to Tsireya. That brought the count up to two. In the center, by the cookfire, Kiri helped Neytiri chop fish and vegetables for a stew. That made three.

It had been a week since the battle at Three Brothers Rock, but Jake still had to bite back the instinct to look for number four. His heart told him to count again; told him that if he checked just one more time he would see Neteyam tucking the blankets tighter around Tuk, or playfully teasing Lo’ak, or asking Neytiri if she needed any more help with dinner, but his mind knew better than his heart. No matter how many times he counted, there would never be a number four.

However, he was still missing a number. Jake didn’t know when exactly he started doing this, but at some point in his parenting career, he’d assigned a number to each of his children, and that number was the order in which he would always check on them based on the likelihood that they would need adult supervision. Maybe it was just his way of keeping track of so many kids, or maybe it was some leftover instinct to “sound off” from his Marine days. Whatever the case, the system worked for him. As the youngest and most delicate, Tuk was always the first child he checked on. Coming in second place was Lo’ak, the resident trouble-maker. Number three was Kiri, more responsible than Lo’ak, but still prone to making trouble of her own on occasion. Neteyam, as the oldest and most mature of the bunch, was number four, the last child he checked on because he was the least likely to be in trouble.

One, two, three, four. Jake had sounded off the mental count thousands of times over the years whenever he needed to make sure all of his children were accounted for. But the count didn’t always stop there. Sometimes, not most of the time, but sometimes there was a fifth child on the list, tacked onto the end more out of courtesy than anything.

Jake counted again just to be sure.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Number five was missing.

“Where’s Spider?” He asked the question so suddenly, that it startled everyone. Tuk peered out sleepily from her blankets, and Kiri and Neytiri gave him confused looks from across the cookfire.

“Huh?” Asked Lo’ak as he came to sit down next to Tuk.

“I asked where Spider is. I told all of you to be back home before sundown. It’s almost dark, so where is he?” He directed his question at Kiri, figuring she would be the most likely to know, but all she did was shrug.

“I haven’t seen him since this morning. I’ve been helping Mom and Ronal in the healing marui. I think he said he was going to help Lo’ak with his chores.” She said before turning her attention back to chopping vegetables.

The casual way she answered the question irritated Jake. If Spider wasn’t back by now, it either meant he was willingly disobeying Jake or he was in some kind of trouble. Why was Kiri acting like it was no big deal? His tail started to twitch in frustration as he rounded on Lo’ak. “Have you seen Spider?”

His question came out harsher than he intended it to, making Lo’ak jump slightly. “Uh… yeah, I hung out with him earlier, but he went off with Rotxo in the afternoon. I think he was gonna teach him to spearfish or something?”

“You think?” Jake repeated exasperatedly.

“I dunno, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Lo’ak said, sheepishly playing with the beads on the ends of his braids.

“Yeah, cause you were too busy looking at Tsireyaaa—“ Tuk giggled in a singsong voice.

Lo’ak threw a blanket at her. “I was not!”

An irritated huff left Jake’s lips as he got to his feet. “I’m going to go find him.”

“Ma Jake,” Neytiri’s voice stopped him in his tracks, “dinner is almost ready. Stay and eat with your family. I’m sure the boy is fine.”

“No, I told everyone to be back here before sundown. It’s sundown and he’s not here, so it’s not fine.” Before Neytiri could get another word in, he left the marui, tail lashing behind him with anxiety.

He rushed through the peaceful village, passing Reef Na’vi settling into their homes for the night. The setting sun painted the sky a deep orange, and a chorus of insects created a soothing symphony for the evening. Everything was so calm, surely nothing was really wrong, right? Despite what he tried to tell himself, images of Spider hurt or dead kept flashing through his mind. He was so consumed with his worries that he nearly ran right into Rotxo.

“Oh! Hi, Jake!” Rotxo greeted him cheerfully once he recovered from nearly losing his balance.

“Rotxo, sorry, didn’t see you there. Have you seen Spider?”

“Yeah, I was teaching him how to spearfish by the diving hole. I think he’s still there—“ Rotxo had barely finished pointing in the direction of the diving hole before Jake was off, making a beeline for it.

The longer it took to reach the hole, the faster he went, so he was practically sprinting by the time he reached it. Jake skidded to a stop on the rocky edge of the hole, startling a few small marine ikran into flight. He frantically looked around for any sign of Spider, but the whole place was deserted. The hole was dead still except for the steady undulations of bioluminescent seaweed dancing in the current, and the swaying of the mangrove branches up above. All he could hear was the gentle sound of waves lapping against rock and the occasional cry of a marine ikran. No sign of number five.

“Dammit!” Jake hissed under his breath. His ears flattened against his skull and his tail thrashed like an angry snake. Now he didn’t know what to do. None of the other children seemed to have any idea where Spider was and Rotxo was his last lead. Awa’atlu’s atoll was a massive area full of hiding places, and Spider was one little human. He could be anywhere.

Just before he made up his mind to start searching somewhere else, a soft sound drew his attention. Down the side of the hole directly to his left, a familiar dreadlocked head surfaced amongst the bioluminescent seaweed.

“Spider!” He called, sprinting across the rocks towards him.

At the sound of his name, Spider turned. Underneath the sheen of his mask, his face split into a wide grin and he started swimming to meet him, a child-sized Metkayina speargun in his hand. “Hey, Jake! What’s up?”

Jake knelt on the edge of sea rock and hauled Spider out of the water by the strap of his exopack as soon as he was in reach. He quickly checked Spider over for any sign of injury or damage to his equipment. As far as he could tell, there was none.

“You alright? Where the hell have you been?”

Spider’s grin faded as he took in the panic in Jake’s body language. “Yeah, I’m fine, I was just practicing the spearfishing stuff Rotxo taught me.”

Jake’s shoulders sagged and he let out a deep sigh as a surge of relief overwhelmed him. It lasted for a grand total of five seconds before it was replaced by a rush of anger. He hadn’t been this scared and angry since Lo’ak had gotten lost beyond the reef.

Jake seized Spider by the shoulders and shook him. His voice came out in a low snarl. “What the hell is the matter with you, boy? Have you just been fucking around out here this whole time?”

Spider’s eyes went wide and he tried to recoil, but Jake’s grip was too tight. “Jake, I— wait— did something happen?”

“You almost gave me a heart attack, that’s what happened!” Jake snapped as he got to his feet.

“Jeez, relax, I’m fine, see? Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Spider said as he gathered up his speargun and stood. Before Jake could get another word in, Spider turned on his heel and started walking away.

Jake’s ears went flat against his skull in a mix of shock and anger at the blatant disrespect. Not even Lo’ak in his most rebellious mood would dare to walk away from him when he was being scolded. It took a lot of effort to keep his voice level. “And where do you think you’re going, young man?”

Spider stopped and glanced back at Jake with a bewildered look on his face. “I’m getting back in so I can keep spearfishing?”

Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, are you now?”

“Yeah?”

“And what about dinner?”

“I’ll eat later.”

“And when were you planning to go to bed, huh?”

Spider shrugged. “I dunno. Whenever I guess.”

Without another word, he turned his back on Jake again and got ready to dive into the water. The sheer disrespect almost made Jake laugh. He ended up hissing through his teeth instead. “Get your ass back over here. Now.”

Before Spider had a chance to disobey him again, Jake crossed the distance he had put between them in a single step and seized him by the arm.

“Jake, what—“

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jake cut him off by roughly steering him in the direction of home with a firm hand on his shoulder. The action was familiar to him. He’d done it to Lo’ak a hundred times after his troublemaking escapades. In fact, he was already mentally planning the lecture and accompanying punishment for disobedience he’d give to Spider once they got home. It was going to be nearly identical to the one he’d given Lo’ak after he’d scared everyone by getting lost outside the reef. Maybe Spider’s attitude would improve after a day of being stuck inside the marui doing chores. “You’re gonna march your butt back to the marui and—“

His eyes widened in surprise when Spider jerked his shoulder out of his grip and twisted away from him.

“Get the hell off me!” Spider yelled. He backed away from Jake, one hand covering the shoulder he had grabbed.

For a moment, all Jake could do was stare at him in shock, mouth slightly ajar. Then he closed it, tightening it into a sharp, angry line. Never in all his years as a parent had one of his children dared to use such language at him, especially not when they were already in trouble. “What did you just say to me, boy?”

“I told you to get the hell off me.” Spider repeated boldly, heedless of the hole he was digging himself into.

“Alright, that’s it!” Jake stormed towards Spider with a snarl. “I was gonna go easy on you, but since you want to have an attitude, we can do this the hard way.”

Spider scurried back to stay out of reach, but his retreat wasn’t a sign of submissiveness. If anything, Spider puffed up just as angrily as Jake. He hopped up onto a nearby mangrove root so he could better look him in the eye. “Attitude? I’m just minding my own business and you’re all pissy at me for some reason!”

“Minding your own business?” Jake repeated with a scoff. Even when Lo’ak got in trouble he had the sense to own up to it instead of lying about it. He jabbed an accusatory finger towards Spider’s chest. “You know damn well what you’re doing. I don’t know why you think you get to stay out past curfew all of a sudden, but the rules haven’t changed just ‘cause we left the forest.”

Spider threw his hands up in frustration. “Bro, what are you talking about?”

“Playing dumb isn’t going to help you! You’re out past your curfew and there’s going to be consequences.”

“What fucking curfew?” Spider yelled so loudly that it made Jake recoil. His voice cracked hard mid-sentence, and Jake suddenly realized that the tone he’d mistaken for disrespectful was actually scared and confused. 

Jake's first instinct was to yell right back, but he forced himself to take a deep breath. He put his hands up in a calming gesture, and when he finally spoke, he managed to keep his voice civil. “Spider, this morning I told you and Lo’ak and Kiri to come back before sundown, remember?”

Spider’s brows knit together in confusion. He was still on edge, but he relaxed slightly at seeing Jake calm down. “You told Lo’ak and Kiri to come back. You didn’t say it to me.”

“Spider,” Jake had to take another calming breath to keep from losing his cool again. He couldn’t tell if this was genuine confusion or some bizarre attempt to get out of trouble, but either way he figured more yelling wouldn’t solve the situation. “You were standing right between Lo’ak and Kiri when I said it. Why would you think I wasn’t saying it to you too?”

“Why would I think you were? I’m not one of your kids.” 

“I— well— no, you’re not, but you still have to follow the rules. Back when you lived in Hell’s Gate with the McCoskers, could you just wander off whenever you felt like it?”

Spider squinted at him in confusion. “Uh… yeah, I could? I did that all the time.”

Now it was Jake’s turn to squint. “You didn’t have a curfew with the McCoskers?”

“I mean, maybe when I was like, really little, but not that I can remember, no. And besides, I haven’t lived with the McCoskers since the RDA came back, remember? It’s been almost two years since then.”

For a moment, Jake was almost stunned into silence, but he recovered from his surprise and changed tactics. “Okay, forget the McCoskers. Think about when we lived in High Camp. You had a curfew then.”

“No, your kids had a curfew, but I didn’t. Don’t you remember how Lo’ak was always jealous?”

“I—” Jake frowned. Now that Spider mentioned it, he vaguely remembered Lo’ak begging Jake to extend his curfew because of something to do with Spider. “But Norm and Max and everyone, they made sure you got home and ate dinner before dark, right?”

“Norm and Max were always super busy. It’s really hard to keep human life support running out there. They didn’t have time to babysit me; they had to keep the lights on.” Spider shrugged like it was no big deal. He must’ve noticed the shocked look on Jake’s face because he quickly added. “Jake, relax. I’m a tough kid, remember? I know how to get my own dinner and I know when to go to sleep. I was fine.”

“Oh, Eywa…” The realization finally hit Jake. Spider’s confusion was one hundred percent genuine; he really didn’t understand why Jake was angry at him for staying out at night. Jake pressed his hands to his lips and took another deep breath. He sat down on the mangrove root and patted the spot next to him. Spider still looked a little nervous, but he sat down next to Jake anyway. His legs were far too short to reach the sandy ground below, so they swung in the air halfway down Jake’s calves, making him look much younger than he was.

“Spider,” Jake began. He put a hand on Spider’s shoulder and turned him so they were face to face, “you’re not one of my kids, but while we stay in Awa’atlu, you’re living in our marui. That means I’m responsible for you just like I’m responsible for Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk. So you have to follow the rules— that includes the curfew.”

Spider made a face. “I really have to have a curfew now? But why?”

“The same reason Kiri and Lo’ak and Aonung and Rotxo and every other kid has a curfew. It’s to keep you safe. If you don’t come back at sundown, I won’t know where you are or if something bad happened to you.” Jake ruffled Spider’s hair the same way he did to Lo’ak all the time.

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen to me,” Spider shoved his hand off with a scoff. “I can take care of myself. I never had a curfew before. Why do I gotta have one now?”

Jake's patience started to wear thin again. His irritation started to leak into his voice. “Because I said so, that’s why.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“You do not speak that way to me, young man.” Jake scolded.

Spider shrunk under the reprimand, but still held his ground. “Well, it is…”

Jake threw his hands up in exasperation. “What is so important that you need to stay out at night anyway, huh?”

“Uh, food? You know, that thing I need to survive?” Spider drawled with so much venomous sarcasm that for a split second Jake felt like he was talking to his father instead. “Do you think I’m out here freezing my butt off for fun? I’m trying to catch some dinner. I know it’s been awhile since you were human, but remember that humans need to eat too.”

“Alright, first of all, lose the attitude, kid.” Jake snapped. “Second of all, what are you talking about? Food? We have food at home. Neytiri made dinner for everyone.”

An ugly sound that was half-scoff, half-laugh escaped Spider’s throat. “No. Ms. Sully made food for your family. Not for me.”

“Spider, is that what this is about?” Jake’s voice softened slightly with pity. “Neytiri? Listen, I know things are… complicated right now, but Neytiri doesn’t mind if you eat what she cooked.”

“Oh, I bet she’d love it if I ate some of her cooking,” Spider said bitterly. Seeing the confused look on Jake’s face, he added, “she never cooks things humans can eat. This morning Kiri warned me she was making pincer fish stew. Do you know how toxic pincer fish are to humans? If I ate it I’d probably puke my own brains out.”

Jake cringed. “Oh… I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t realize she was making something that would hurt you. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why would I? It’s not the first time she’s cooked poisonous food when she knows I’m staying for dinner.”

“Don’t talk like that. Neytiri wouldn’t do that on purpose. She’s just been so distracted since… since everything. I promise it was just a mistake.”

“Yeah, a mistake.” Spider scoffed. “Maybe it was this time, but didn’t you ever notice that every time she heard me, Kiri, and Lo’ak were planning a sleepover that she’d make something I couldn’t eat? It’s not like she’s in the habit of making human-friendly food.”

“What— no, but that’s not—“ Jake spluttered as he tried to think of a rebuttal, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t. Since they’d gotten Spider back, all their meals were sympathy gifts from the Metkayina or were prepared by Jake. Neytiri had been too bereaved to cook, so Jake had picked up the slack. Tonight was the first night she’d cooked since the battle. Even thinking back further, back to when they lived in the forest, Jake couldn’t recall a time Spider had stayed over for dinner when Neytiri cooked. It was always when Jake cooked or when they ate a feast prepared by the clan.

Now that he was really thinking about it, he vaguely remembered an ugly argument between Kiri and Neytiri that had happened a long time ago: Kiri accused Neytiri of cooking food that was poisonous for humans on purpose so Spider couldn’t spend the night with them, and Neytiri argued back that it was too hard for her to modify every recipe she knew to make it human-friendly.

“Okay, maybe she did do that, but that was before. She always knew you could get food from somewhere else. Things are different now. Today really was just a mistake.” Jake tried to get Spider to look at him, but Spider stubbornly kept his head down and let his thick locs hide his face.

“Yeah, whatever. Can I go now? If I don’t catch a fish soon I’m gonna go hungry tonight.” Spider started to slide off the root they sat on.

Before he could slink out of reach, Jake grabbed him by the shoulders. He knelt on the hard sandy ground in front of him so they were face to face. “Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve been saying? You’re coming home with me. Now. I’ll let breaking curfew slide just this once since you didn’t understand the rules, but this is the last time you’re going out by yourself at night. If I ever catch you breaking curfew again, you’re gonna be grounded, you read me?”

“What? But how am I supposed to feed myself?” Spider cried. There was so much genuine panic in his voice that it made Jake cringe with guilt. Did Spider seriously think he would let him starve? “During the day I have to help everyone out with the chores. I won’t have enough time to find food if—“

“Spider!” Jake cut him off with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders. Once he was sure he had Spider’s full attention, he continued in a slow, clear voice. “Look, here’s the deal, kid: as long as you live under my roof and follow my rules, I will make sure you have plenty of food. You don’t have to hunt for yourself after dark. From now on, you will come back home and eat dinner with us every night before sundown. How’s that sound?”

Spider stayed quiet for a long moment, a furrow in his brow. Jake gave him a reassuring, fatherly smile, the same smile that always seemed to help his children when they were scared. He hoped that Spider was finally getting it. After a long moment of hard thought, Spider shook his head and said, “no thank you.”

Jake stared at him incredulously. “What do you mean, no thank you?”

“I mean, I’m good.” Spider grabbed Jake’s oversized hands and carefully peeled them off his shoulders. “That whole deal thing you’re offering me? No thanks. I’d rather keep my freedom.”

He tried to slink away again, but Jake stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “Spider, the deal isn’t optional.”

“So you’re forcing me to follow this stupid curfew?” Spider tried to twist out of his grip, but Jake wasn’t budging. “What? Like a prisoner or something?”

“A prisoner? Jesus, Spider, I’m not imprisoning you, I’m taking care of you! Why can’t you just—” Jake cut himself off. He was going to ask Spider why he couldn’t just trust him, but considering everything they’d just talked about, it felt stupid to ask him to do that. With a deep sigh, he gently took both of Spider’s hands and lightly squeezed them.

“Okay, look at it this way. Lo’ak and Kiri have a curfew too. Why do you think they have a curfew?”

Spider stopped trying to squirm away from him, but he wouldn’t look him in the eyes either. He kept his gaze on the ground, where he nudged a small rock with his toe. His begrudging answer came after a moment, “so you know that they’re safe.”

“Yep, that’s right. We give our kids curfews because we love them.” Jake nodded. “A curfew isn’t a punishment. It’s just a rule to keep you kids safe.”

Spider kicked the rock, sending it flying into the diving hole with a small splash. He still wouldn’t look at Jake. “I’m not a kid. I’m older than Kiri and Lo’ak. I don’t need this stupid rule to stay safe.”

“Yes, you do. You’re sixteen. Sixteen-year-olds have curfews.”

Suddenly, Spider looked up at him, his dark eyes shining with an emotion Jake couldn’t identify. “So why didn’t I have a curfew when I was fifteen? Or fourteen? Or— hell, I don’t think I’ve had one since I was like ten. You say that kids need curfews, but I never had one. And it was fine. If it wasn’t fine, you and Norm and everybody wouldn’t have let it happen. So it was fine, right?”

Jake’s ears twitched downwards and it became a struggle to hold Spider’s gaze. The strange look in his eyes was almost pleading, silently begging Jake to confirm what he’d said; that it was perfectly fine that all the adults had let a teenager run around with no guardian looking after him. Jake licked his lips. It would be easy to agree with him; just tell him that the way he’d been treated was fine and come up with some bullshit excuse for why things had to change now. Spider had always gotten enough food and rest; it wasn’t like he was wasting away while the adults ignored him. Sure, he didn’t have anyone looking out for him the way Jake and Neytiri looked out for their children, but there was a war going on. They had bigger things to worry about. Spider wasn’t their problem.

It was fine, right?

“No.” When Jake finally answered, he couldn’t look Spider in the eyes. He kept his gaze trained on the stony ground beneath his knees. “No, Spider, it wasn’t fine. A kid’s not supposed to live like that. A kid’s supposed to have somebody making sure they come home and eat dinner and go to bed every night. You shouldn’t have had to look out for yourself like that.”

In the edges of his vision, he saw Spider’s dreadlocks sway as he shook his head. “No, it was fine. I was fine. I mean, I always knew I wasn’t treated the same as the other kids, but it wasn’t like it was bad or anything. Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk are your responsibility, ‘cause you’re their parents. I don’t have parents, so I’m nobody’s responsibility. It wouldn’t be fair to make somebody else look after me when it wasn’t their fault I was stuck there.”

Hearing Spider frantically try to rationalize his treatment only made Jake feel worse. He shrunk into himself as Spider continued.

“That’s just how the world works. You know, like, if something ever happened to you and Neytiri, Lo’ak and Kiri would have to look out for themselves too, ‘cause it wouldn’t be fair to make somebody else have to look after them.”

“No! Eywa, no, Spider! That’s not how this works!” Jake cried. Just the thought of his children living like Spider —having no one waiting on them to come home at night, staying out late to get food for themselves because they couldn’t count on anyone else to feed them— was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. “It doesn’t matter if a kid doesn’t have parents. They still need somebody taking care of them. That’s why you had your foster parents.”

“Yeah, I guess I needed them when I was little, but I pretty much just slept in the same house as them by the time I was, like, ten or so. And they’re long gone by now. I was fine without anybody looking out for me for the past year and a half. You don’t need to start now.”

“Spider, I was…” Jake hesitated, struggling to find the right words. He forced himself to look Spider in the eyes. “I was wrong, okay. I was Olo’eyktan. When your foster family abandoned you, I should’ve done something— should’ve appointed somebody or— or I don’t know. I just shouldn’t have done nothing.”

“Jake, I was fine.” Spider protested weakly.

“No, you weren’t. Not if you think it’s normal to get food all by yourself at night.”

“It’s not?”

“No! Jesus, if something ever happened to me and Neytiri,” Jake’s voice cracked with emotion at the thought, “I would never want my kids to live like this— so it’s not right to let you live like this either.”

“Jake,” Spider seemed taken aback by the emotion in his voice. “It’s okay.”

“No, kiddo, it’s not. But I’m gonna make it okay now.” He got to his feet and held a hand out to Spider. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Instead of taking his hand, Spider backed away. His eyes darted between Jake’s hand and the spearfish he’d left lying near the edge of the diving hole. The wind picked up ever so slightly, and Jake caught a whiff of the human stench of fear coming off of Spider. He frowned. Did the thought of letting himself be dependent on Jake scare him that badly?

“Look, Jake, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think it’s better if things stay the same as they’ve always been.”

Jake’s frown deepened. “What? Do you want to be out here in the dark catching food by yourself?”

Spider grimaced. “Not really, but I just think it’s for the best. It’s really nice of you to offer to take care of me, but I know how the world works. You can make promises now, when things are peaceful, but they won’t stay peaceful forever. Once things get tough again, you’re going to put your family first. I’d rather keep taking care of myself so that when things do get tough again, I’ll already be used to it.”

Jake didn’t know what to say to that. The diving hole went silent save for the waves lapping at the rock below and the occasional hiss of his exopack. Alpha Centauri had long since sunk below the horizon, leaving them illuminated by the soft blue light of Polyphemus and his moons. Spider took his silence as an answer. He knelt and scooped up his child-size speargun before turning back towards the water.

“I’m sorry I scared you today, but just forget about the curfew thing, okay? I can take care of myself.”

The breeze picked up, sending another wave of human-fear towards Jake’s nose. Spider was doing a good job of hiding it, but he really was scared. It reminded him uncomfortably of people he’d known back on Earth— people who had been let down so many times that the thought of trusting someone else to care for them was terrifying. If you give someone the power to feed you, you give them the power to starve you, someone had told him when he decided to join the Marines. The Marine Corp kept him fed as long as he was an able-bodied soldier, but the minute that changed, they’d let him starve. Clearly, Spider thought he would end up starving too if he let Jake have the power to feed him. Jake had to prove to him that he meant what he said. Empty promises wouldn’t be enough.

“Spider, wait,” he called just before Spider could jump into the water. Spider looked back at him warily.

Slowly, telegraphing his movements so Spider could clearly see what he was doing, he unsheathed his knife and held it up to his dreads. Spider’s eyes widened as he carefully severed a lock of his hair.

“Jake, what are you doing? You don’t have to—”

“No. I wasn’t just making an empty promise. I’m going to take care of you from now on.” He approached Spider and knelt so they were on the same level again, and offered the lock of hair towards him. “I want to take you on as my mll’an’eveng.”

“Mll’an’eveng,” Spider echoed, staring at the hair in disbelief. It was rare a Na’vi custom done whenever a child ended up orphaned and was too old for parental tsaheylu with adoptive parents. To the Na’vi, if a child and adult never made the parental bond in infancy, then they could never truly be child and parent, but they had an exception for children who were orphaned later in life, after they’d already established a parental bond with their birth parents. Taking in a child as mll’an’eveng wasn’t the same as adoption, but it was more like a wardship or foster home, acknowledging that the child had already bonded with other parents and their new ones could never replace that bond. An adult would be bound to take care of a mll’an’eveng with steep consequences if they failed, just like there would be consequences for neglecting their own child.

“But I’m human—” Spider protested.

“I don’t care. We don’t need tsaheylu to make you my mll’an’eveng.”

“Neytiri won’t—”

“Let me worry about her.”

“Jake, I don’t know…” Spider put a hand to his own hair and wove his fingers through it anxiously.

“It’s your choice whether you want to do this or not,” Jake said, “but no matter what your answer is, I’m still going to watch out for you. I just want to prove to you that I mean it.”

Spider’s fingers knotted so tightly in his locks that it looked painful. The stench of fear was so strong that Jake didn’t need the breeze to smell it coming off of him. Jake was just about to take his lock of hair back when Spider suddenly moved. He slipped his own small knife from its sheath and sliced off a dreadlock. With slightly trembling fingers, he handed it to Jake.

The two locks of hair rested in his giant blue palm, one smooth, neat, and uniform black, the other uneven, unkempt and mottled in shades of bronze. With all the solemnity of any other Na’vi ritual, Jake took the two locks of hair and wound them around each other, joining them into one strand. Jake then used some stray string stowed away in his loincloth pouch to tie the strand around his wrist. As per the custom of the mll’an’eveng ritual, Jake would wear the hair on his wrist for the next four days as a visible declaration of wardship over Spider for all to see.

Spider let out a heavy breath as Jake finished tying the hair to his wrist, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His bottom lip trembled and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut to fight back tears.

“Hey, it’s okay, bud. C’mere.” Jake pulled Spider into a hug, letting him bury the smooth surface of his mask into the crook of Jake’s neck.

“I’m not crying.” Spider mumbled into his shoulder.

Jake tried not to laugh as he patted him on the back. “Of course not.” He gave Spider a minute to pull himself together before giving him one last squeeze and standing up.

“Alright. Are you ready to go home now?” He offered his hand.

Small, pale fingers slipped between large, blue ones. “Yeah, I am.”

Na'vi Vocab:

Mll’an: to accept

‘Eveng: a child

I combined these two words together to create “Mll’an’eveng” or “accepted child,” a Na’vi term for a child an adult is accepting as their responsibility, but not formally adopting, similar to a ward or a foster kid. This is not canon lore, just something I made up for this one-shot.

💙Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments and reblogs, and if you want to see more from me, feel free to send me a prompt in my ask box 💙

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Regulus is younger than canon, and Sirius is finally promoted to run away from home after he comes home in 1975 and finds his brother covered in bruises and discovers their mother had used the cruciatus on him. He turns up at the Potter’s with no prior warning with a six year-old Regulus in tow.

Established James/Sirius, lots of hurt/comfort and angst, and Regulus is adorable and Sirius will do literally anything for his baby brother.

((A/N: Warning for non-specific child abuse in keeping with the prompt))

"Hey. How are things at the death house?"

Sirius snorts. "This isn't the death house, this is the grim house. Death house is over in Wales, I'm afraid."

"Ah, my mistake. It's easy to get confused when your father died so recently; you understand."

Sirius should maybe not find that funny, considering how recently that death was. But his father was a distant figure at best, and at most realistic, a weird hermit that sometimes showed up during the winter hols to state that Sirius was bigger than before. He laughs, then glances over his shoulder to make sure his mum didn't hear that-- all clear. He looks back to the mirror. "It's fine. Well," he corrects a moment later, "it's weird. Mum's been acting so strange, and I swear, it's as if Regulus doesn't even exist. He's six. I remember being noticeable at six, but I never see him running around or yelling or anything I did at that age."

"Maybe he's just a quiet child. I've heard they exist," James grins.

"We're Black's. Making a scene is in our blood."

"He's got time to learn. And it's only been a day. Maybe he's intimidated by you or something. How's your mum acting weird, anyway? Is it because you didn't go to the funeral?"

"I dunno." That would be a plausible explanation, but he's not sure that's it. She sent a Howler when he didn't show, and that's usually enough to get it out of her system. Sirius chews on his lip as he tries to think of an example. "Just off. Like when you tell a joke and they do laugh but there's a pause that shouldn't be there. It's not something you can put your finger on, but you can sense it."

"I think I know what you mean, but your mother is kind of always like that to me." His head turns, listening to something Sirius can't catch, then he's waving goodbye. "Mum's calling me, got to go. Remember to ask your mum when you can come spend the night. I miss you."

"I'll ask her first thing. Love you."

"Love you too." James presses a smacking kiss to the mirror that makes Sirius laugh, and then he's gone.

Sirius heads to his room and cleans up a bit. Merlin, did his mum tell Kreacher to not clean his room while he was at Hogwarts? He didn't pay it any mind last night because he was tired, but there's a layer of dust that shouldn't be here. Come to think of it, Kreacher didn't make dinner last night, either. Has he seen Kreacher at all since he's been back? There's no way he died; Mother would've been more upset about that than her husband, and he would've heard about it.

What probably happened is that she got pissed when Sirius told her where she could shove her plans for his future and told Kreacher to not do things for him. It would explain the room, and if he's not supposed to do things for Sirius, then avoiding him is the best route. Damn it. That does sound like something she'd do. Sirius sighs and settles in for a deeper clean than he planned, because who knows how long it's been? 

His housekeeping spells are a bit shoddy but he does alright. He unpacks, switches out the photo in the picture frame by his bed. It goes from one photo of him and James to a different photo of him and James. The pictures look so similar, he notes. They took it at the same part of Hogwarts, but it hadn't been on purpose, so there's the same archway, flowers, even the same family of birds. The only thing that looks different about it is the signs of aging, losing just that more baby fat and getting taller. Their smiles are the same, though.

"Oh shit," he says after seeing the time. He almost missed dinner.

Or at least that's what he thought until he gets downstairs and doesn't see anyone. Nothing on the table, no one in the seats. "Mum? Regulus? Mum?" Nothing. "Kreacher?" Still nothing. He frowns. That's odd. "Mum?" he calls again, checking the sitting room. When he finds no one, he throws up his hands. Guess it's just him for dinner. He heads to the basement-- that's where the good stuff is. A nice cut of meat, a bottle of wine...

He opens the door, and there's the nearly imperceptible pop of a silencing charm being broken followed by screams. "What the-" Sirius races down the stairs, eyes widening in horror at what he sees. Between one breath and the next, his wand is in his hand and he stuns his mother. She collapses, the spell lifting off Regulus simultaneously. Regulus is gasping for breath, the effort interrupted too often with sobs and whines of pain. "It's okay, it's okay," Sirius promises, although he doesn't know how it's going to be okay since their mother seems to have lost her fucking mind and there's no one here for him to ask for help.

When Sirius picks him up, Regulus clings to him, small hands fisted in his robes with a strength he shouldn't have. He figures that out when he tries to put Regulus down so he can re-pack what he just unpacked and can't get him free. There's no time to find a better solution, so he shifts to holding him with one arm and has his wand in the other. It's a hack-job of packing, but his room is in his bag, and that's what's important. He goes to Regulus's room-- in a poor state of disrepair, really what happened to Kreacher?-- and does the same there. 

Regulus's tears are silent now, but there's still the occasional gasp of pain as Sirius moves. This is more than the Cruciatus Curse at work. He needs a healer, but Sirius can hardly show up at St. Mungo's like this. He's not an adult, and Regulus is so young that they'd insist on calling Walburga in which would just make matters worse. He needs- James. Yes, that's true, he needs James. James is good at healing spells and knows more of them than Sirius does, and although he never planned on taking the Potter's up on their offer, they'd long since told Sirius that he was welcome there anytime.

He isn't looking forward to going through the floo holding someone, but he doesn't have a lot of options right now. Regulus is too shaken to use the floo on his own, and he won't let go of Sirius to try. 

He grabs a handful of floo powder, steps inside... and then is ejected back into the room at Grimmauld Place. "Bugger," he mutters. Mum must've closed the floo. Why would she do that? It made no bloody sense- but then he can't expect her to make sense at all right now, since hurting Regulus is also senseless. Why would she...? Just why?

The floo isn't an option. He doesn't have money for the Knight Bus ever since Mum stopped giving him an allowance when he was thirteen. He doesn't know how to take a Muggle bus, much less if it could get him from Grimmauld Place to the Potter's house. That leaves flying, he realises with a grimace. There are brooms in the cupboard under the stairs and he grabs one. He's not fond of flying and he's never done it with a passenger before, but he has no other choice.

"We have to fly, and then we'll get you some help, okay?"

Regulus gives no response. Shit.

Sirius doesn't think about much as he flies. Mostly he's worried about Regulus falling off the broom if he suddenly decides to let go of Sirius's robes, and the rest of his thoughts are occupied with wondering if James will be happy to see him or just stressed out. 

He doesn't give any thought to how it'll look to the Potter's when they open the door and see him holding a shaky six year old, asking for help, but then he's stood there, looking at them as they take in the sight he makes, and it occurs to him that calling James on the mirror wouldn't have gone amiss.

*

After a hundred different healing and diagnostic spells-- who knew Mrs. Potter trained to be a healer after Hogwarts?-- Regulus is doing better and is asleep. Of course, he's asleep on Sirius's lap, so even though all he wants is to curl up on top of James, he can't. Mr. and Mrs. Potter are in the other dining room, discussing what to do from here. Sirius thinks his mother must be under the influence of a spell, but he knows they don't believe that. Whether she is or not, she won't be able to take care of Regulus any time soon-- even if she could, there's no way Regulus would want to go back. And Sirius doesn't want to be in the house with her either.

"What are you thinking?" James asks. He keeps his voice down to not wake up Regulus. Sirius does the same when he responds.

"That this is fucked."

"Yeah. Bit of an understatement," James says with a grimace. "That stuff I said on the mirror-"

Sirius shakes his head, cutting him off. "You couldn't know. No one could've guessed my mum would turn barmy overnight." He glances towards the door to the dining room, hoping that something will slip through from the Potter's conversation and he'll know what they're thinking.

"What do you think will happen?" James asks, following the direction of his thoughts.

"I dunno," he replies, but it's a lie. Barely a second later, he adds, "Emancipation for me. Housing Regulus with the closest relative willing to take him in. Cygnus and Druella won't do it, they said they were done being around kids after me." And they meant it. "Bellatrix would, except she doesn't want any kids. Andromeda's next in line, and she'll say yes, unless Ted has some problem with it. So I guess I find somewhere to stay, and he goes off with Andromeda."

"If you're emancipated, couldn't you take him in?"

"Legally that would work, but we've still got Hogwarts."

"Stay here."

Sirius stares at him. He wants to and hopes more than anything that it's offered to him officially, but... "Your parents-"

"Would let you. Mum and Dad adore you. This is probably what they're talking about in there. C'mon, you know they wanted more than one kid. After tonight, they might have two more, and they’ll be bloody thrilled."

*

Several years later

"We're summoned to Hogwarts," Sirius says.

"Again?"

"Yep. What do you think he did this time?"

"Nothing worth us getting dragged up there," James groans. "We got up to all sorts when we were in school, and they only called our parents in once. Regulus isn't half as bad as we were."

"Yeah, well we didn't get caught."

James blinks, thinking that over. "I forgot that bit," he says candidly, making Sirius laugh. "He's in Slytherin, shouldn't he be better at sneaking around?"

"Yeah, I asked him about that, apparently it's a myth. Snape was not the best sample to base the rest on, he says. Or he's playing the long game and lying to me, but I really think they don't care as much as we thought."

"Huh." James looks like his entire worldview has changed. Sirius remembers having the same reaction when Regulus told him. It's made Sirius wonder why Slytherin has the terrible reputation because they largely don't break the rules, but Gryffindors are viewed as better when they broke the rules, often just to see if they can get away with it.

They floo over to Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore is there to greet them. "I hope this didn't interrupt anything important."

"It's fine," James says.

"Do you want to tell us what this is about before we get in there?" Sirius asks, loping his arm through James's as they walk. 'Disgustingly domestic' is what Regulus calls them, and Sirius is happy to keep proving him correct.

People say that Regulus is in his 'rebellious phase'; Sirius doesn't believe it. He's not rebelling and he's not acting out, he's having fun. Experimenting, even. Loosing five dozen roosters in the Great Hall sounds hilarious, and Sirius is sorry they didn't think of it when they were in school. And the hair dye thing? Completely harmless. Giving all the house elves twelve hours off made Sirius lose his composure laughing-- something he tried not to do while in the office being told about it-- but Regulus wanted to see what would happen to the running of the castle without them. Freeing the hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures was an accident, so it hardly counts, even though he got detention for it.

There's a wide range of possibilities, and Sirius doesn't know which kind they're expecting today.

"I'm afraid it's a rather delicate matter. Mr. Black has asked that you not be told anything without him in the room, and given the nature of this... incident, I agreed."

James and Sirius share a worried look, and they're thinking the same thing: we're too young to be raising a teenager. Wasn't it just yesterday they were walking these halls themselves? That feels like the truth, but simultaneously, it was a lifetime ago. Sirius is only ten years older than Regulus, but shortly after graduating Hogwarts, Mr. and Mrs. Potter had died, leaving them alone with the responsibility of raising him. They asked for help from Andromeda where they could, but she had her own child to raise, and their schedules were never so aligned that they could ask for her assistance at the drop of a hat.

Sirius squeezes James's hand and gets a comforting squeeze in response. Right. They can handle this, like they handled everything else. Regulus threw them curveballs sometimes, but they always worked through it in the end.

[britney-rosberg06]

💙 bearnelli ofc

hey artie!

💙-drunken kiss Ollie Bearman/Kimi Antonelli

Ollie honestly wasn’t even planning on going. He didn’t want to. It was a last minute decision that had him putting in a tux and calling a car to take him to Brackley for Kimi’s big night. 

Now he and Kimi were commandeering the speaker system playing music after all the old sponsor people left turning it into a real party to celebrate Kimi’s eighteenth birthday and contract with Mercedes

He looked incredible like this, stress free and open. Before, when Toto intended for this to be a classy gala thing he looked like the tie he was wearing was choking him. Now with the lights darkened and the tables pushed away and his tie loose around his neck his looked…perfect

Which thoughts like that were probably a sign Ollie should be leaving soon. He was a few steps past drunk at this point and it was hella late. Late enough for it to be early to some people. But Kimi was here and he had his arm thrown over Ollie’s shoulder with a smile and was shouting across the room to their friends to get him and Ollie another drink and again he looked perfect. Ollie had no where more important to be than right here. As long as Kimi was near at least.

It was after Alex brought them their third round of shots and fifth time Doriane stole his phone to play Sweet Caroline that he looked over at Kimi and yelled “wanna get out of here?”

Kimi nodded enthusiastically and so they grabbed their discarded suit jackets, waved goodbye to their dwindling group of friends and walked out into the warm August air.

There was a car waiting to take Kimi back to his apartment in Brackley, but the two teens wanted to walk so they waved it on ahead, supporting each other as they moved through the quiet streets

“Ol?” Kimi asked “I’m really gonna miss you” he revealed, leaning his head on Ollie’s shoulder

Ollie placed his own head on Kimi’s fighting back the oncoming and unavoidable headache that would rear its ugly head tomorrow morning and sighed “I’m gonna miss you sooooooooo much. But at least we’re gonna be on the grid together”

Kimi’s voice was a little whiny when he spoke next “It’s not the same! I’m not gonna get to see you every day. Talk to you all the time or support you like I do. Too many rules. When we were teammates it didn’t matter but the year is almost done and we’re running out of time together” he said, sounding close to tears. Stopping on the sidewalk with his arms over his chest

Ollie stared at him, blankly, trying to make sense of what he was saying and guessing the odds on whether or not he imagined it. Instead of focusing on that though, he found himself staring at the Italian. The streetlight’s warm glow illuminated him like a halo. His hair was a mess and his tie was still loose around his throat. The moon shined on his eyes, emphasizing the potential tears

“You look really pretty” he told him

“What?”

“You’re really pretty. And I don’t wanna run out of time with you when you look so pretty all the time. And you’re so nice” he said, the alcohol in his system acting like a truth serum

“You’re pretty too” Kimi said softly, taking a step forward towards Ollie “really pretty”

“Pretty cause we’re drunk and not thinking?” Ollie asked hesitantly, a little bit of common sense remaining

“You’re always pretty to me” Kimi said, just a couple inches away

Without thinking Ollie grabbed Kimi’s tie, pulling him in close and pressing their lips together softly. His mouth tasted like whiskey and his lips were soft and full. It was so wrong. Months of friendship down the drain. But it felt perfect and right

Kimi pulled away for air “I’ve always wanted you to do that” he revealed. So Ollie kissed him again.

[vilentia]

Last Day in Hawkins

Eddie Munson x reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (coming soon)

Summary: On their last day together before Eddie Munson leaves Hawkins, two close friends reminisce and confront their unspoken feelings, cherishing their deep connection while facing an uncertain future apart

This is part 1 of what was originally planned as a one-part story.

****

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your small apartment in Hawkins, casting a warm glow on the walls. It was a beautiful day, yet your heart felt heavy. Today was the day Eddie Munson was leaving Hawkins, and quite possibly, leaving your life for good.

Eddie, with his wild hair, endless charisma, and infectious energy, had been your unexpected anchor in the chaos of life. You'd met in the most mundane of ways, through a shared love of music at the local record store. But your connection was anything but ordinary. He understood you in ways no one else did, and you, him.

You had seen each other grow, from the uncertain steps of adolescence into the more complex world of adulthood. Eddie, once the misunderstood outcast of Hawkins High, had blossomed into a passionate musician, his dreams too big for the small town that had often shunned him. And you, once a shy, reserved soul, had found your voice, your confidence, alongside him.

You glanced at the clock. In just a few hours, Eddie would be boarding a bus to start his new life in California. You had promised to spend his last day in Hawkins together, a final hurrah to a friendship that had meant the world to you both.

When Eddie knocked on your door, his smile was tinged with sadness. "Ready for the best last day ever?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

You managed a small smile, feeling a knot in your throat. "Let's make it memorable."

As you walked through the streets of Hawkins, you both reminisced about the adventures you’d shared, the late-night talks, and the laughter that seemed to fill every moment you spent together.

“Remember the time we snuck into the school at night just to play our mixtape over the PA system?” Eddie chuckled, his eyes lighting up with the memory.

You laughed, recalling the thrill and the subsequent scolding. “We were such rebels. But it was worth it just to see everyone’s reaction the next morning.”

The day was a mix of light moments like these and heavier ones, as the reality of Eddie's impending departure set in. You visited your favorite haunts – the record store where you'd met, the diner where you'd spent countless evenings sharing dreams and milkshakes, and the old bridge where you'd once watched a meteor shower, lying side by side in comfortable silence.

Sitting at your favorite spot by the lake, Eddie turned to you. "I'm gonna miss this… miss you," he said softly, his eyes reflecting the pain you both felt.

"I'll miss you too, Eddie," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. "Why does it feel like we're saying goodbye forever?"

"Because we're stepping into the unknown, but hey, we've faced stranger things, right?" Eddie tried to joke, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

You laughed, despite the tears welling up. "Eddie, I want you to promise me something," you said, turning to face him.

"Anything," he replied earnestly.

"Promise me you'll chase your dreams, no matter how hard it gets. Promise me you won't forget about me."

Eddie took your hands in his. "I could never forget you. You've changed my life. And I promise, I'll chase my dreams, but only if you promise to chase yours too."

You nodded, a silent vow passing between you.

As the day turned to evening, you found yourselves at the edge of town, watching the sunset. Eddie's bus would be leaving soon.

"This isn't goodbye, you know," Eddie said, his voice thick with emotion. "It's just… see you later."

You hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. "See you later, Eddie Munson."

And with one last look, Eddie walked away, his figure gradually disappearing into the distance. You stood there for a long time, watching the space where he had been, feeling a mix of sadness and hope. You knew that no matter where life took you both, the bond you shared was something that distance and time could never erase.

In that moment, you realized that sometimes, the hardest goodbyes led to the most beautiful stories of reunion. And with that thought, you held onto the hope that one day, your paths would cross again.

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #2

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)

AN: Did I say two parts? I meant three lol. (It got too long, I’m sorry.) 

Word Count: 4,300 Tags/Warnings: Angst, supernatural shenanigans, death…

Bonus Track #2: One Last Hunt

“Okay, try not to panic,” Sam said. Dean had him on the phone while he sped through town in the Impala. 

“I’m coming now, but I won’t get there for a few hours,” Sam said. “My flight leaves in 20 minutes.”

“Thanks, man, but I can’t afford to wait,” Dean said. “She fucking disappeared. I don’t see her anywhere…I’m gonna have to start at her job. That’s where she first took off from.”

“How did she seem this morning?”

“Fine, I guess. I left before she woke up,” Dean said. He still felt guilty about the fact that he didn’t bother waking you up to say goodbye. 

“Okay, yeah, start at the museum,” Sam said. “Let me know what you find, and I’d loop in Bobby. Probably Jack too.”

“Bobby’s meeting me there…but we don’t need to bring in Jack yet.”

“Dean, he’s her dad—”

“This isn’t his thing. It’s ours,” Dean said firmly. “If it’s a demon, I’m gonna find her and exorcize that son of a bitch.”

Sure enough, Bobby met Dean at the museum where you worked. The old man was worried, Dean could tell, even if he wouldn’t say it. But he knew the drill: now they had a job to do.

“I’ll go in first, flash my badge,” Dean said. “Meet me in the library.”

“Roger that,” Bobby agreed. 

Dean had a decent rapport with your boss, Jerry. When he explained that you were actually missing, Jerry was concerned for your wellbeing instead of irate that you’d taken a very valuable book from the museum. 

It gave Dean a theory to lie about on the fly: that you’d been mugged and taken hostage, presumably by someone who might’ve wanted to steal the ancient text. 

“How ancient are we talking exactly?” Dean asked.

Jerry gave him a look. “Ancient Egypt.”

He showed you the inventory log on the new shipment you were supposed to compile into the system. The title missing from the rest was called The Eye of Ra. 

“All right. Thanks, Jerry,” Dean said. “Anything else you can tell me about this book?”

“It’s a recording of the great deeds of the Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses,” Jerry explained. “It was said to be touched by Ra himself.”

Touched by Ra, Dean mused. Ain’t that just fucking swell. 

Whatever happened to you, Dean knew it was because you touched that book.

For the next few hours, Dean and Bobby worked together on deeper research in the library. Now that they had a starting point, Bobby was able to find some intel. 

“The Eye of Ra was actually a nickname,” he said, earning Dean’s attention. “For Sekhmet, their goddess of war.”

Dean’s brows furrowed at that. “Why’s it never the goddess of peace and fucking tranquility?”

“Among other things, she was the daughter of Ra,” Bobby said, raising a wry brow. “And she was known as the bringer of plagues and death…and sometimes healing. Go figure.”

Fucking hell, Dean thought sourly. This was getting worse by the minute. 

“Okay, what does this have to do with the book?” he asked. Though he had some idea.

“Well, she ain’t been alive in a millennium. But she had a husband. The god Ptah, a craftsman,” Bobby said. “According to this, when he was eventually killed, she sealed her soul away until she could find a way to rescue him from the underworld…I’ve gotta think she sealed it in that book.”

Dean sighed, rubbing the now aching spot between his brows. An ancient Egyptian goddess was most likely possessing his fiancé. 

And it was much worse than it sounded on paper.

“Okay, which means she’ll be looking for a way to bring back her husband,” he said. “So how do we find her?” 

Just then, the police radio buckled to Dean’s belt sounded off. When he listened closely, his eyes grew wide. It was a report of five murders committed at a nearby gas station. 

Dean pulled up to the local 7-Eleven. Bobby was on the way, but he’d been caught up in traffic while Dean was allowed to use his police siren to his advantage. 

He then used his badge clearance to get behind the yellow tape and over to Jack, who was still on duty. 

Dean stepped inside the gas station and surveyed the brutal scene: the nice old man who owned the place, plus four patrons were lying dead. 

Their skin was covered with boils.

Jack wore a disconcerted frown along with his crossed arms in his police jacket. 

“It’s almost…biblical,” he remarked. 

Dean knew just how right he was. Jack seemed to know that too when he glanced over.

“Is this your kind of thing?” he asked. 

Dean nodded. “I might know what’s going on here. Let’s check the security footage…but no one else can see it but you and me.”

Jack nodded, leading Dean to the back of the store. Jack was shocked by what he found in the footage. Dean watched grimly, but not surprised as you came into the frame. You tilted your head at the owner, who seemed to ask you something. 

You raised a hand, and with a flare of magic, everyone in the station was cowering and screaming as a plague of boils covered their bodies, and eventually ended their lives. 

“Christ,” Jack gasped. “What the hell—”

“It’s not her,” Dean told him. “She’s being possessed. I’ll handle this, Jack. Just make sure this footage gets buried, along with whatever prints she might’ve left behind.”

Jack barely had time to agree. As if that kind of thing was so easy. He called after Dean as he took off out of the station. 

Dean didn’t see Bobby yet when he got outside, but he didn’t have time to wait. 

However, he did spot someone familiar hanging out in front of the department store across the street. Dean jogged across and raised a hand to flag down Jessie Deluca. 

The kid was gnawing on what looked like a melting Butterfinger. He groaned in annoyance when he saw Dean coming.

“Not you again,” he muttered.

“Yeah, me again,” Dean said. “You been standing out here long?”

“Look, grandpa. I’m just chillin’ here,” the kid sassed. It sparked Dean’s irritation, as well as his impatience.

“I don’t give two shits if you’re contemplating the great Butterfinger Heist of 2008, all right?” Dean pointed back to the gas station. “You see that?”

Jessie’s expression faded from some of its assholeness, becoming more solemn. “Yeah, I heard someone died or something.”

“That’s right,” Dean nodded. “Did you see anyone walk out of the station?”

“No,” Jessie said. But Dean could tell it was a reflex, not the truth. 

“Listen, Jessie. I need your help,” he said, more earnestly. “I’m trying to find someone. So if you know anything, I need you to tell me right now. Please.” 

Dean stared down in the kid’s brown eyes. Eventually, Jessie relented. 

“When I came out of the store here, I saw some business lady walk out. I think, after it had all just gone down,” Jessie confessed. “She looked fine.”

Dean sighed and nodded. “Okay. What’d she look like?”

“Uh…black skirt. Great legs,” Jessie said, his lips curving a little. Dean raised a brow. 

“Anything else?” he asked wryly. 

“White blouse, heels…actually, she kinda looked familiar,” Jessie added as he thought harder about it. 

“Good. Now tell me what direction she went in,” Dean said. Jessie nodded and pointed him down the street. 

“I think she went down there. I saw her turn the corner.”

“Where? What street?” 

“Dude, I don’t know!”

“Then show me,” Dean insisted. He grabbed Jessie by the shoulder and guided him forward. The kid looked annoyed, but he begrudgingly agreed to lead him down the street. The two of them walked brusquely, with Jessie trying to match Dean’s longer strides. 

Dean glanced over at his companion, who was still working on his Butterfinger. 

“When’s the last time you ate something that wasn’t covered in chocolate?” he asked. Jessie didn’t look at him when he shrugged. His winter jacket hung off his skinny shoulders, making him look ten rather than thirteen. Dean’s heart twinged.

“Listen, next time you’re itching to knock over a department store for KitKats, come by the station,” Dean said. “Find me or my partner Jody Mills. Or even my boss, Jack. We’ll get you a burger or something.”

Jessie briefly looked up at him, but all too soon, his gaze returned to the ground. 

“What do you care?” he said. 

“Maybe I know something about having to fend for yourself,” said Dean. “Sometimes going hungry, not knowing when somebody’s gonna come back for you.”

Jessie’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer, but Dean hoped he’d gotten through to him.

Jessie led him around the corner at the street he thought he saw you turn down. He and Dean didn’t have to walk too much farther before he found you through the window of a bakery, of all things. 

“What the hell?” Dean muttered.

He pulled Jessie to the wall by the window for safety, but both of them snuck a peek inside. 

You were once again wielding magic to spread a plague of boils across an entire room of screaming, agonized patrons just trying to get their donuts and cream pies. 

Jessie started to utter a cry of alarm, but Dean quickly covered the kid’s mouth with his hand and pulled him back to his side. Dean waited, stock still, until the screaming inside the bakery subsided.

He looked down at Jessie and raised a finger to his lips. Though he was scared, Jessie nodded. Dean led him around the corner into an alley beside the bakery.  

“What…the fuck was that?” Jessie hissed. 

“Keep your voice down,” Dean warned. 

Then suddenly, it donned on the kid as he looked up at Dean. “Oh, shit. That’s your freakin’ girlfriend.”

Dean let out a sharp sigh. “It’s not her…exactly.”

He knew Jessie didn’t understand. Dean sighed again and grasped Jessie’s shoulders. 

“Look, you’re right to be scared. There’s something evil in there…that’s why I’ve gotta save her,” he said. “Now you, you’re gonna run. And don’t look back until you’re home, got it?”

After a moment, Jessie nodded shakily. Dean nodded back, patting him firmly on his shoulders. 

“Good man,” he said. “Okay, scram.”

Jessie seemed reluctant, like he felt some type of way about leaving Dean behind. But at Dean’s encouraging look, Jessie took off running. Dean hoped he headed straight home.

Then, rolling his shoulders, Dean braced himself. He drew his gun, which was filled with silver bullets. He didn’t think it would work on an Egyptian goddess, nor did he want to pull a gun on you. But for the threat of it alone, he would have to draw it with the safety on. 

He entered the bakery, where you were perusing the selections with a dispassionate look. All around you was death. 

But you perked up when Dean entered, eyeing him curiously in recognition. 

“Feelin’ a snack?” he asked. 

“I have been asleep for a very long time,” you replied, holding up a pastry. “What is this confection?”

“Cherry Danish,” Dean supplied. “You’re Sekhmet, right?” 

Your lips twitched. “You know of me?”

“I do now,” he said, carefully stepping further into the bakery with his gun pointed down, avoiding stepping on the bodies. He noticed the book you left closed on the counter. The goddess saw him noticing. Her gaze cut to him in amusement.

“Why’d you kill these people?” Dean asked. “Didn’t bow down at the right angle?”

“Among all of my brothers and sisters, I alone was favored by my father,” she said, “because my job was to balance the world, between life and the afterlife.”

Sekhmet brushed her fingers against a glass case, and with a small spark of magic, the glass cracked into thousands of fractals, but didn’t shatter. 

“And I did exceedingly well at this,” she said. “Though I see that my work has been undone. This world is rife with imbalance.”

“Mass genocide. Nice,” Dean quipped. “But that’s not all you want, is it?”

Sekhmet’s head tilted at him with reluctant interest. 

“I heard you’re looking for your husband, who went an offed himself,” he added. 

The goddess’s lips pursed and she slapped a hand on the glass counter, making it shatter. Dean turned and shielded his eyes with his arm. By the time he recovered, Sekhmet was coming around the counter. He took a few cautious steps in the opposite direction.

“My husband was unjustly slain by the very people who once worshipped us in droves,” she said, her tone exacting and harsh. Her eyes, however, were heavy with fury and pain. 

“He was an artist. A creator in purest form…his talents were wasted on this abomination of a world,” she said, with disgust at her surroundings. But as soon as her anger came, it diffused into exasperation. 

She picked up a glazed donut and took a bite, crossing her arms. She hummed in delight, making Dean’s brows raise. 

“Well, I can help you find him,” Dean said. It was a bluff, to be sure, but it still earned Sekhmet’s attention.

“Can you?” she asked in amusement. She didn’t believe him. Yet. But she drew closer to Dean, tilting her head just so. All the while, Dean inched towards the far end of the counter where The Eye of Ra had fallen to the ground. 

“And after, you let my girl go,” he said.

“You know of a way to reach the Underworld?” Sekhmet’s gaze roamed over him in disdain. “Unlikely.”

“Well, I’d call it a gate to Hell. But same difference, right?” Dean quipped.

The second he tried to reach down for the book, however, Sekhmet pinned him in place with a vibrant amber coil of magic. Dean grunted as she forced him to the ground, onto his knees between the bodies of a young man and woman, likely a couple. 

The goddess stopped in front of him, looking down at his face with interest. 

“Dean Winchester, as you are called. I understand why you continue to display such reckless judgment, all but throwing your very life at my feet,” she said. Her lips curved knowingly. “I hold your lover, correct?”

She harshly grabbed his cheek in her hand, and Dean glared in response. She seemed to ponder something as she considered him.

“Soon to be your wife,” she realized.

And Dean had a feeling she was in your head, sorting through your thoughts and memories like any demon would. He didn’t know what was worse: the thought of you being awake in there, unable to fight this bitch’s hold, or if Sekhmet had completely taken over your body and shut you away. 

“Just let her go,” Dean said, almost pleading. “You can have me. I won’t even fight you.”

“Such self-sacrifice,” she said. “The only noble act humans are capable of.”

Before she could decide whether to kill him, or keep him for further amusement, the front door of the bakery swung open.

Bobby came in first, followed closely by Sam and Eileen. 

Bobby was holding a damn crossbow, which he aimed and shot off at Sekhmet. It was a warning shot, just grazing her shoulder. But it burned her with a sting of flesh that made her hiss in pain. She glared up at Bobby, and after grabbing the book before Sam could, she disappeared in a whirlwind of magic.

The coil holding Dean in place shattered, allowing Dean to catch his break and get to his feet, with Sam’s help. Dean had to admit, it was good to see his brother. 

“You okay?” Sam asked. Dean reached over and pat the other man’s shoulder. 

“I’m good,” he said, though with a sigh that belied his weariness. “Hey, Eileen. Thanks for making it to the party.”

The pretty brunette offered him a sympathetic smile, rubbing his arm. “We came as soon as we could.”  

Dean nodded and turned to Bobby, who still held his crossbow. He wasn’t happy about the old man shooting at you, but he recognized that it had saved his life.

“Why’d that thing hurt her?” he asked. 

“The arrow’s dipped in a potent mix of salt from the Dead Sea…and Egyptian wine, among other things,” Bobby replied. 

Dean frowned in confusion. “Why the fuck?”

“According to the lore, Sekhmet could be subdued with alcohol,” Sam explained. 

“Great, we’ll just get her drunk and all our problems will be solved,” Dean quipped dryly. He grabbed the radio from his belt. His gaze returned to the dead bodies on the floor with dismay. 

“I’ve gotta call this in. Bobby, get the security tapes.”

After Dean finished calling in the deaths to his precinct, he shared a disheartened look with Sam, who grasped his shoulder in support.

“We’re gonna find her, all right?”

They regrouped at Bobby’s house once Jack took over at the bakery. Now the three men and Eileen were congregated in the living room, trying to decide on their next move. 

“You told her about the Hell gate?!” Sam said incredulously. 

“Damn it, Dean!” Bobby slapped the coffee table in exasperation. 

“All right, lay off! I was improvising under fucking duress,” Dean snapped. “At least we know where she’ll probably go next, assuming she finds out where the gate is.”

“She’s a goddess, Dean. One of the oldest and most powerful in ancient history. I’m sure she can figure it out,” Sam said, rubbing at his tired eyes.

And, as Dean remembered, Sekhmet was rooting around in your head. She’d find the gate for sure.

Eileen looked between the brothers, clearly worried. Sam had told her about what you, him, and Dean had gone through to close that damn gate to Hell last year. 

“So how do we stop her?” Dean asked. Without hurting you, was implicit. Bobby heaved a sigh.

“We gotta burn that damn book,” Bobby said. “But we’ll need to be smart about it.”

So that was how the four of them ended up driving to southern Wyoming. They stopped along the crossroads by the train tracks, and ventured in on foot into the very clearing where their final battle against Yellow Eyes took place.

Dean thought he’d be able to put his past behind him, but the universe clearly liked to kick him in the balls.

Evidence of this came when he saw you standing at Samuel Colt’s gravestone. Or rather, the goddess Sekhmet. 

She was expending large forces of magic to try and open up the gate to Hell. The book that bound her soul lied on top of a nearby headstone.

Dean gestured for Sam, Eileen, and Bobby to hang back and fan out, while he stalked forward. He’d changed out of his police uniform in favor of his familiar jeans, shirt, and a red plaid shirt, hoping that at least would help you focus on him, wherever you were deep inside your mind. 

But he called out to Sekhmet from a (relatively) safe distance away. 

“Are you stupid or something?” he mocked. 

Sekhmet paused in her magic wielding. She craned her head over her shoulder at him in annoyance, with amber rings illuminating her eyes. 

“There’s only one thing that can open up that gate, and I’ve got it right here,” said Dean. 

He pulled out the Colt from behind his back. 

Sekhmet’s gaze narrowed on the gun, then at Dean with a slow smirk.

“Why, by the gods, should I trust your foolishness?” she asked. 

“Because we’re about to make a trade,” Dean said. “The gun for my girl. You let her go, or you’ll never see your husband again. In this world, or the next.”

Dean pointed the gun at her and cocked the safety back. She didn’t have to know the barrel was empty. 

“You cannot harm me, even if there was ammunition in that weapon,” Sekhmet replied knowingly. 

She turned to him and reached out with a magic-fueled hand, but before she could grab Dean, Sam shot his own gun. 

It deployed a net of rope that twined around her frame and held her in place. It was soaked with the same concoction Bobby shot her with in the bakery, and it made her fume with outrage.

It didn’t completely weaken her though. Her hands were still free to fling Sam and Bobby away from her with magic. 

She then turned to grip Eileen, who was nearly able to steal the book. And the goddess sent Eileen across the clearing, breaking a headstone as she fell. 

Sam had been trying to pick himself up from the ground, but he gripped at his chest, feeling his soulmate’s pain. He scrambled over to her prone form on the ground and checked the cut along her hairline. 

“Eileen,” Sam called, pressing his hand to her cheek. He had one eye on her, and another on his brother. 

Because meanwhile, Sekhmet had broken free of the ropes holding her captive with a cry of fury. 

Just in time to grab Dean by the throat when he tried to surprise her from behind. She forced him down to his knees and smirked in satisfaction as Dean struggled against her hold.

He called your name, trying to reach you through the goddess’s hold on your mind.

“She is gone from this world,” Sekhmet taunted. “This is but a vessel for my eternal soul.”

“I don’t fucking believe that,” Dean choked. “If she was gone, I’d know it. Deep in my bones I’d know it.”

Her mouth twitched, but she seemed to enjoy the idea of slowly choking him to death. Or maybe, something was holding her back. Dean could only hope it was you, trying to break through. 

He looked into your eyes and tried to find you through the cold disdain of a goddess.

“Whatever happens, I’m not letting go,” he gritted out. He held tight to your wrist, on the hand wrapped around his throat. 

“I love you, you know that?” he said. “From the start…you closed the door in my face when I tried to kiss you. Teased me. Never took my shit. But you never left me either. No matter how hard it fucking got, you kept my feet on the ground. You never called it quits…‘cause we never say goodbye. Right, baby?”

Slowly, slowly, Sekhmet’s hard exterior faded. The amber rings of magic receded from your eyes, and the woman he loved was there again, softening your face into shock and horror. 

You released your grip on Dean. He stumbled to the ground as he coughed and gasped for precious oxygen. 

He straightened enough to grab your hand. You reached out for him instinctively. 

“Dean,” you said with shaking effort.

“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. He turned back to see his brother helping Eileen to her feet. “Sam, the damn book!” 

Sam snapped to attention and quickly looked for The Eye of Ra. It had been knocked over from the headstone onto the ground. He grabbed it and fished out a lighter from his pocket.

Dean’s attention turned back to you when you squeezed his hands.

“I can’t hold her for long,” you said tremulously. Your whole body was shaking. “She’s so damn strong…”

“It’s okay, we’re gonna fix this,” Dean said, brushing your hair back from your face. 

You closed your eyes and gasped. But when you opened them once again, they were hard, and glowing with magic. 

Sekhmet tossed Sam away from the headstone. 

Dean tried to hold her back, but she backhanded him hard. Sekhmet followed where he fell. She reached out and gripped him by the neck again, this time choking him with a vengeance. 

But then she gasped, as if in pain. She turned her head and found Sam with the book in one hand, and a lit match in the other. As the book started to burn, Sekhmet weakened. 

Dean caught her before your body could hit the ground. 

Sekhmet released a shaking breath; she gazed into the dimming sky, painted in its golden, amber hues, and knew that her soul was dying. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. 

Dean almost felt sorry for her. Or maybe it was the sight of your pained, weeping face that tugged at his heartstrings.

“You’ll just have to join your husband this time,” he said.

Sekhmet’s lips trembled, but she nodded. “This world was never made for us…but we shall soon be together for all eternity.”

She looked up at him with a rueful smile. 

“You understand,” she said. “A soul bond can never be destroyed.”

And with that, the haze of magic drained from your eyes as your body went limp. 

Dean’s brows furrowed with worry as he called your name. Behind him, Sam helped Eileen draw near with a limping Bobby. All three watched with worry at Dean’s side…until your eyes opened, revealing their natural hue. 

You took in a tremulous breath. “Dean.”

His eyes burned with emotion, but he closed them as he held you tight. All he could do was press his lips against your forehead in relief. 

You clung to him right back, for as long as you needed to. 

AN: Fun fact — According to Egyptian mythology, the only thing that could stop the goddess Sekhmet from ending humanity with bloodshed was by getting her drunk on beer, which had been dyed red to simulate blood (which she also liked to drink, apparently). 

Egyptians (the survivors) would drink beer mixed with pomegranate juice and get drunk to celebrate not being killed dead. (Woo!)

Anyway, let me know if you enjoyed Part 2! All the fluff is coming in the finale of Part 3, very soon…

Next Time:

Dean brings you home. The two of you figure out how to move on from here...

Keep Reading: Bonus Track #3

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

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[oddballwriter]

Plus One to make a Sour One

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Summary: You and your old high school friends made a promise to go at each other's weddings, which you all keep. Regardless of the passing of time and what it brings. However, one out of place friend doesn't like that you've moved into find someone that you plan to have in your future.

Warnings: Female reader and is referred to using she/her. Mentions of jealousy and unrequited love (not between you and the boys). Mentions of marriage. Marc being called "second hand" by another person. Reference to Layla and Marc's divorce (she and the divorce are not an actual issue, she's just mentioned off handedly (I would never make her an issue <3)). There's a character in here who is a fucking dick and makes rude comments. This does take place after the show but there's no mentions of MoonKnight work. The boys are still a system but this is Marc centric. Jake does talk once though. "Y/N" is used four times. It is also mentioned that there is an age gap between you and Marc, with Marc barely in his 40's and reader being in their late 30's.  

Author’s Snip: Don't know what this was or why I wrote it. I just had it in my mind and wanted to write it.

Notes: The girls in your friend group are supportive as hell about you and Marc. Also the character Ben has a mix of Ken and Allan energy but in an aggressive way because he's just... there... just for the plot. 

Work count: 1730

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

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  In your high school years, which were admittedly a good way behind you, you made a promise to each other. To go to each other's weddings no matter what.

  Kaylani was the first to make that promise be kept by getting married a few years back and like promised, everyone managed to make it. In your group there was, as mentioned, Kaylani, Susie, Sydney, Gabby, you, and the only boy in your group, Ben. Or Benny, as you all called him. It was nice to see each other again and catch up since it had been so long and you had done your own things after graduation. For example you had gone on to study and even traveled abroad to do so, which ended up having you meet your now boyfriends Marc, Steven, and Jake. Though you did think that it was just Marc at the time, but hey, no one ever complains about a three for the price of one deal. 

  However, at the time of Kay’s wedding you just started getting used to all of them. So when the topic of if everyone else had a certain someone already, you just answered that you were seeing someone. Unfortunately in a room full of people you knew since braces, they asked for more. To which all they got was the details of his name being Marc, he was older, and that you met while you were living in London for your studies.  You knew that that wasn’t a whole lot and that they would want to hear more, but they didn’t want to pressure you into saying more than you wanted. Though they did like the mystery of this man that you had back home. 

  Now the time has gone by and the system has become a regular part of your life and now live together in a new place with a fresh new start close to where you're from. Which was perfect considering the call you just got done having. 

  “Congratulations again, Gabby! I can’t wait to see you!” you cheer into your phone before saying goodbye to your soon to me wedded friend. “What was all the squealing about?” Marc says as he walks into the living room where you are. “That was one of my friends, Gabby, from high school. She’s getting married in the Fall season.” you answer. “Oh, Miss Homecoming Candidate.” Marc commented as he sat down in his arm chair. “No. Kaylani’s Miss Homecoming Candidate. Gabby’s-” you correct, “The blonde one, right.” Marc says correcting himself in the middle of your sentence, that wasn’t it either. “No. No,” you giggle. “Sydney’s the blonde one. Gabby’s ginger. And also Gabby was the Captain of the Girl’s Tennis team.” you clarify. “Jeez. I really can’t remember anything about what you tell me.” Marc jokes. “How about Bridget? Wasn’t there a Bridget or is it another name with a B?” Marc tests. 

  “It’s Benny.” you answer. “He was the only boy in our group.” you admit. “Okay, get me a picture because I don’t remember any of these people.” Marc requested as he sat forward in his seat. “Because you never met them, dingus.” you chuckle as you go looking for any picture you had saved. 

  You spent a while showing Marc the various pictures of you and your friends while back in your teenage years, which looked as dated as you think they would, and pointing to who’s who. Of course it was easy to point out Ben since he was the only boy that would ever be in your friend group photos. At some point you get to prom pictures where you and Benny are seen in one of those prom couple photos. 

  “You two went to prom?” Marc spoke. “We all did. But we all were meant to be a posse and go as a group of friends.” you remark, “But all the other girls got dates and I was the only one who didn’t so Benny asked to be mine so that I wasn’t the only one without one.” you explain. “That was nice of him.” Marc replied before changing his attention to a nearby reflection and muttering “Shut up.” under his breath. You knew that meant one of the others said something so you asked who it was and what they said. “Jake’s saying that maybe Ben was trying to “get lucky” or something.” Marc answered. You laughed at the comment and denied it. You knew Ben wasn’t that kind of a guy. But you always had the sneaky suspicion that Ben did always like you. 

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

  Marc knew he’d be your plus one at the wedding as soon as you started telling him the difference between the girls and also letting it slip that you wanted him to be when he commented that Gabby had a metal mouth and you said “Don’t tell her that.”. He didn’t mind. Maybe he’d feel a bit out of place but he’s worked on handling foreign situations and had a balance with Steven and Jake, so they wouldn’t end up fronting during the wedding. 

  Gabby had her ceremony and reception at this little gallery in your home town that was actually really cute and fit everyone invited from both her invites and her now husband’s. As the bridesmaids, and bridesman, you all got to sit at the table closest to the newly weds during the dinner. To say that the girls were hyper fixated on Marc was a bit of an understatement. They asked all about him. What he did, how you met, what he was into. And anytime he said something about himself that would be considered attractive someone would sneak a look at you and wiggle their eyebrows. All the while Ben was silent.

  After dinner was of course cocktail hour while the coordinators rearranged the room to be better fit for the actual party. Sydney and Kaylani, along with Ben, managed to steal you away to talk more, and Susie opted to talk to and learn more about Marc. You sort of knew what they were doing, when Gabby brought her then boyfriend, now husband, to Kay’s wedding you separated them to see if there was a future marriage on the way.

  “So, Marc.” Sydney said as he took a sip of her cocktail, “Is it going anywhere with you two?” she spoke after finishing. You sighed. “We’re cohabitating right now.” you admit. “It’s not that he hates the idea of getting married. He’s just had a… strange and rocky path with it in the past and he’s taking his time getting over it.” you clarify before mouthing “He’s once divorced.”. The girls nod in understanding before Ben speaks up, “So he’s second hand?” is what comes out of him in an almost slightly negative tone that doesn’t even make it sound like he’s hesitant to say it. One of the girls flicks him on the arm and scolds him with a “Ben!”. You take a moment to gather yourself from hearing that. 

  “Let’s not put it that way. He’s not an object.” you nervously continue. “It’s not like he’s battered from it. I’ve met his ex wife and she’s a lovely woman. They just had their own issues and figured that it was best they figure it out alone.” you say. “And there’s no shame in that.” Kay speaks up, to which almost everyone nods. “How old is he again?” Ben asks, seemingly dropping the tone and changing the subject. “Well. He’s older, like I said. But if you need to know he’s barely in his forties.” you confess. “He’s more past me, sure, but I’m almost in my late thirties. So it’s not that much.” you justify, to which the group takes into acceptance. “You have always liked older men, I guess.” Ben replies.

  Meanwhile with Susie and Marc, the talk has gone from him to something else. “Okay. So,” she manages to roll out of her mouth while spinning her now empty glass, “You might have noticed Benny.” she says. “I know of him, yes. He was at our table and I was told about him.” Marc verifies. “I’ll come clean with you, Marc. I think you and Y/N are great for each other. There’s clearly so much between you and if you asked the girls, you’d have all of our blessings to your relationship.” she stated. “Lemme guess. Not Benny’s, huh?” Marc chimed in. Susie gave him a firm head shake and said “No.”. Susie fixed her casual posture to a more serious one, which Marc knew meant that she was going to talk about some drama.

  “Marc. I’ve seen a lot of men,” Susie claimed, “In general.” she added, “And I know that men can hold their hearts out for literally nothing if they think that something is there to take it or if there’s a glimmer of hope that something will.” she explains. “Ben is one of those men.” Susie confirms. “He’s been holding it out for Y/N since he became part of our group. He wasn’t an obvious sucker back then. But once she told us about her seeing someone back at Kaylani’s wedding,” she says while pointing at him when she said ‘someone’, “He was all sappy and sad. It was honestly pathetic”. 

  “So what? Is he going to try and win her over?” Marc scoffs. “Hell no!” Susie exclaims, “You got everything on Y/N’s checklist. You’re charming, aged, you have some ruggedness to you, and I’m willing to bet you have more." she lists off. “And Benny’s 100% butthurt about it.” Susie jokes at her friend’s expense. “And you’re telling me all of this…?” Marc questions as he looked at Susie to have her answer why. “In case you two have your own wedding party and you get looked at funny by Ben if he’d even show up at all.” Susie remarked. “I’m sure I can handle some dirty looks from a guy who my girlfriend went to the high school prom with as a means to not be the person without a date.” Marc chuckled. “I might dance with her all night just to rub it in his face a little.” Marc comments.

“Well, the song they danced to at prom just so happens to be on the playlist for tonight.” Susie mentions.

[lateraniansweets]

Night Train

next ->

ao3 || little sun m.list

warnings: semi-graphic description of corpses

notes: shinkansen = bullet trains. train routes and railway companies don't refer to shinkansen as bullet trains so i decided to refer to them as shinkansen.

Only one person in the jujutsu world knew of Wataru’s existence. His name was Nishitani Yū, grade 1 sorcerer and more importantly, Wataru's godfather. 

He died a week ago at age forty-seven leaving behind a grieving wife and two daughters. He died not because of a curse—surprisingly enough, but because of a sudden heart attack while out grocery shopping.

You missed out on both the wake and funeral, having only been made aware of his death yesterday. It’s likely that you wouldn’t have even known he died had it not been for his wife going through his work phone. Though, even if you had known you wouldn’t have attended either. 

Wataru’s eerily silent as he stares at the Nishitani family grave. “Mom,” he looks up at you, tiredly rubbing his eyes, “can we go back now?”

“Have you said goodbye to Gramps yet?”

His eyes widen and turns to the gravestone, “Bye gramps,” he bows, then turns to you, “Can we go home now?”

“Mhm,” you nod, wiping away the sweat from his forehead and running a hand through his feathery soft hair. Gently, you pinch his cheek and ask with a teasing smile on your face: “Want me to carry you-” 

“Mom!” he shakes his head, nose scrunching up as he insists that he’s too old for that now. Still, he doesn’t struggle when you pick him up despite his complaints. Wordlessly, Wataru adjusts himself in your hold, looping his arms and legs around you like a koala. You press a kiss on his crown, giggling as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

Pulling over the hood of his jacket you turn to the grave.

“Thank you, Nishitani-san.” 

Thank you for saving me back then.

Thank you for looking out for me all these years.

Thank you for keeping Wataru a secret.

With that, you and Wataru leave the cemetery and begin your long trek home.

By train, the trip from Tokyo to Hamada takes around eight or nine hours, the round trip would take at least, fifteen to sixteen hours if you didn’t make stopovers to eat or rest. The overnight route was even longer, with seven stops and sixteen hours of travel time but it was safer than staying overnight.

Curses in Tokyo are far stronger than those back in Hamada, running into a 2nd grade would be a death sentence and curses aren’t even the only threat. Curse users and sorcerers come to mind, with Sa–Gojo Satoru around they’ve become less of a threat over the years but they’re still a threat nonetheless. Coming to Tokyo entailed too many risks and too many unknowns. It’s one of the reasons why you didn’t want to come to pay your respects anyway, the other reason being – no. Don’t think about it. Out of sight out of mind. Breathe. Breathe. —still, you made the trip because Wataru deserved to say goodbye to his Grandpa Yū. 

7:39 PM.

The train arrives and you board the train, still carrying a sleeping Wataru. The trip and the overstimulation from being in such a busy city had exhausted your boy. 

After setting him down, and zipping up his jacket you breathe , releasing the breath you’d been holding for the past four or so hours. The air conditioning in the rail car dries the sweat on your back, leaving behind a chill. You slump down on your seat, exhaustion sinking into your bones as you take out your phone to look at the time.

7:41 PM.

An automated voice comes over the  PA system announcing that the train will be leaving the station.

You glance at Wataru curled up in his seat and take off your coat to drape over his sleeping form. “Goodnight, beautiful boy.” You press a kiss on his forehead, falling asleep soon after you do so.

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

Satoru likes to think that he holds a valid semi-unbiased opinion of the Kyoto school as an institution of jujutsu. Sure, he disliked the school’s insistence on keeping things traditional —which is kinda expected considering the near-iron grip the higher-ups had on that place, he has some semblance of faith in the sister school’s competency in exorcising curses. After all, Kyoto Jujutsu High was one of only two jujutsu schools in Japan and a cornerstone of jujutsu society as a whole.

So how?

How did they let this happen?

He’d read and reread the incident report—God! They took the time to write an incident report!—again and again just wondering how ?

How did they fuck up this bad?

Satoru huffs, rereading the piece of paper for the nth time.

At 8:32 PM three second-year students from Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College (God, the official name’s such a handful.) along with their managerial chauffeur to Taikawa East Park to exorcise a group of curses, estimated to all be around Grade 2 and lower.

9:01 PM. The group arrived at the park and prepared to cast a veil but were attacked before being able to do so.

9:13 PM.  Two of the three students and their chauffeur were killed by a Grade 1 curse unincluded in the intel provided to the group. The third student buys time for backup.

9:47 PM. Backup arrives however the curse had already gotten away just seconds ago by clinging onto a passing shinkansen . 

Casualti–He crumples up the report and tosses it to the side, he didn’t need to read that part to know that that part of the report would be sugarcoated. 

They did the same thing years ago with the incident involving Haibara Yu.

Kiyotaka Ijichi glances at him from the rearview mirror, brows furrowed in worry before returning his eyes to the road. Satoru couldn’t really tell if it was because of the current situation or just his usual face. 

The car comes to a sudden halt, and Ijichi turns to him. “We’re here.” He says and Satoru nods, opening the car door and typing a quick text to his students’ group chat.

The Best Teacher: Mission’s almost done! Will be getting some Kyo Baum after! o( >  ᗜ  < )o ₊˚⊹♡                                                                          Sent: 22:55 

Kyoto Station is uncharacteristically empty save for the occasional sorcerer because of the veil covering the entire station. They managed to get the train stopped with—the completely bullshitted, excuse of a gas leak.

A sorcerer whose name he doesn’t bother to remember brings him up to date with the situation. Satoru read it all in the report so he just tunes her out but he doesn’t miss the light implication that it was the students’ fault in her words. He’ll stay silent on that part and let Utahime handle the higher-ups involved aftermath of her students’ failed mission.

The train sits idly by the platform cursed energy oozing out of it. 

“Most of the civilians are accounted for,” The sorcerer states, gesturing to the passed-out civilians scattered along the platform.

“Most?”

She clicks her tongue, “There was a stampede inside the train, we can’t clear out the cars with the bodies in the way, and we can’t exorcise the curse because of said bodies either. Whoever’s still unaccounted for is likely dead. ” From the corner of his eyes, he could see a few sorcerers grouped together with their cursed tools and shinigami at the ready. 

He sends them a glare, hidden by the bandages covering his eyes and silently, curses the higher-ups for dragging him into this mess because ‘he was in the area’. This little siege between the curse and these sorcerers is a waste of time and resources. This could’ve all been over at that park had backup arrived faster.

Maybe he should use this incident as teaching material, record some videos, and pair them up with the final mission report. How not to perform an exorcism, how to defeat a curse with civilians involved and all that fun stuff. At the end of the lesson, he’ll give a quiz. 

Yeah, a quiz would be good, he hasn’t given out one of those in a while.

“How long have you guys been here?”

“About an hour.” Seriously?

Judging from the cursed energy on the train, they’ve cleared less than half of the cars, it’s gonna take them all night at this rate. Do these people love overtime or something?

"I see," Satoru hums, holding himself back from laughing at their faces—he didn’t want his meeting with the higher-ups (which was supposed to be taking place right now) to have another lecture and take longer than it needed to be.

He looks at the time displayed on one of the LED screens in the platform.

It’s getting late, and Satoru wants to go back to his hotel and take a nap. He should get this mess over with. They’ve cleared out less than half the cars already so this shouldn’t take long for him anyways.

I guess, I’ll just get Kyo Baum tomorrow.

Wordlessly, he warps himself into the train and gets to work. 

Despite sorcerer-who's-name-he-didn't-bother-to-learn's child blaming passive-aggressive yapping she was at least telling the truth about the bodies. 

Corpses, some of their limbs twisted unnaturally and their articles of clothing were littered all over the cars he went through. However, thanks to his infinity he was spared from the strenuous, time-consuming and slightly disturbing task of getting the bodies out of the way.

He’s made his way to the fifth car facing little to no resistance on his way. It was a little odd but he’s seen enough to know that the curse is a) trying to run away after sensing his cursed energy or b) it’s with the unaccounted passengers sucking the life out of them or c) both!

Guess he’ll know once he opens this door. 

This would be car number…four? Three? He’s lost count already. 

Damn, that kinda matters.

The curse’s cursed energy’s so damn potent here. It’s disgusting, putrid and…there’s something else, something different. It’s…familiar, eerily so but he can’t put his finger on why exactly.

“Plea–” A shriek and a crash, the train shakes and Satoru’s brought back to the present.

“Please!” A voice cries out, it’s of a young boy’s. “Help!” Satoru’s grip on the sliding door’s handle tightens, knuckles turning white as he braces himself to enter. 

The curse roars.

Thud!

“Mister, please! ” The boy sobs, “I-I know you’re there Mister!” Satoru freezes, what do you mean by that?

 “Please! M-my mom! S-she’s—” he chokes out a sob.

Satoru takes a sharp breath and slams the door open. The curse roars at him, the intruder and lunges at him to attack but…

“Red.”

…it’s blown away before it could. 

The curse is instantly vaporized upon Red’s impact.

There’s a moment of silence as the boy stares at him wide-eyed, simultaneously afraid and amazed.

“Thank..” the boy heaves as he shakily gets on his feet. “...you…” 

The boy looked to be around five or six years old but what truly caught Satoru’s (six) eyes was the kid’s cursed energy. He has a lot like a lot, lot and it’s in disarray, free flowing and… familiar.

“...mister.” The boy finishes and looks up at him, the hood of his jacket falling to reveal white feathery close-cropped hair and—

Satoru freezes, eyes widening like he’s been hit with the full force of his domain expansion.

His eyes. 

That kid’s eyes.

He forces himself to breathe, to keep his shit together as a pair of the legendary six eyes, a pair that shouldn’t exist stares through at him.

“Mister…?”

“Who…” he choked out, blue meeting blue, “who are you?”

unrelated notes: hhhhhhhhhhhh exploding gege and myself with my mind im so tired. drowning in schoolwork but ill try to get the second chapter started and maybe halfway it by next week hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh