#granted i did follow some stuff that happened after that

[protagonistscum]

I didn't finish it but wtf happened in there (bnha)

[uss-butterscotch]

It’s Tuesday you know what that meanssss

Part three of my Eddie tries to solve whatever mystery the freshmen and steve are hiding (another between seasons 3&4 fic)

Part 1 Part 2

-

Eddie dropped down next to Gareth on the couch in Jeff’s parents’ garage. Usually when they were all out here together, they’d be practicing, since this was where the drum kit was. Today however, they had agreed to meet up after their most recent Hellfire meeting.

“Okay so, are we gonna talk about it?” Gareth asked, gaze locked on Eddie.

“I mean, I’m not even 100% sure what most of it was.” Eddie said.

“How ‘bout you start from the bathroom.” Jeff offered.

So Eddie started explaining finding Harrington in the bathroom, something clearly wrong. How he figured if anyone knew what was going on it might be Henderson, and he was right.

“Yeah, after you guys left, we tried to ask Mike what it was all about and he said Dustin was the only one who really knew any details, he just knew that Harrington had been having issues with headaches and stuff.” Grant supplied.

“One hell of a headache.” Eddie said, shaking his head. “I mean, the guy was on the floor, he could barely form coherent sentences until Mike and Dustin started having it out in the hallway.”

“Yeah, what was that all about?” Gareth pressed.

Eddie shrugged. “To be honest it was kind of hard for me to follow. Every time they said anything I felt like I was missing half of the story.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But what I did hear confirmed something i’ve been suspicious about for a while.”

“What?” Jeff quirked an eyebrow at him.

“They’re hiding something. All three of them and Harrington.” He looked to his friends’ faces to see their reaction. Most of them looked curious.

“Have you noticed, when they talk about certain things, they start to say something, then stop and change what they were going to say?” He asked.

Gareth was nodding. “Yeah, and none of them will give a straight answer on how exactly Henderson got so close with Harrington.”

“And,” Eddie said, just remembering another detail, “Wheeler said something like ‘we would have died in the tunnels without him.’ What fucking tunnels?”

He received a round of shrugs and head shakes in response.

Eddie leaned back in his seat, bringing his fingertips together like he was a villain in some shitty action movie. “Boys, I believe we find ourselves with a puzzle of our own to solve.”

Eddie figured Henderson would be the easiest to crack, with his inability to shut up about things he knew a lot about. Sinclair was far too good at deflecting and brushing things off, and nobody was willing to try to break through Wheeler’s attitude.

After about two weeks of trying to pry any details he could from Dustin, he had an epiphany. It came to him as he drove past Family Video, Harrington’s beemer sitting in the parking lot, and the man himself visible through the window reshelving an armful of tapes.

He could just ask Harrington.

As soon as he had the thought he physically recoiled. What had happened to him in just a few short weeks that a thought like that almost seemed not insane? He couldn’t just talk to the former Basket Ball Team Captain, Keg King, Prom King, Steve Harrington. It was just too weird. And Eddie was comfortable with weird but this was like, against the laws of nature territory.

Then he had a second epiphany. As he sat at the red light, he watched Harrington start walking toward the next aisle over, looking behind himself at something, and clip his shoulder on on the corner of the shelf, sending his neatly stacked movies tumbling to the ground. As the light turned green, he saw the answer to his problem step into view and help Harrington pick up the tapes and he began formulating his plan.

~

In a move worthy of every self respecting John Hughes movie, Eddie positioned himself perfectly and silently behind the open door of Robin Buckley’s locker so that when she slammed it shut, she was met with his mischievous smirk.

She let out a short yelp of surprise, then punched him, not so gently in the shoulder. “What the hell, Munson?”

“Firstly: Ow,” he started, rubbing the spot he could already feel a bruise forming, “Secondly: has Harrington’s penchant for getting into fistfights rubbed off on you so easily, my dear Lady?”

She scoffed. “Ok firstly,” she said mockingly, “keep calling me ‘Lady’ and I’ll do a lot more than punch you in your stupid vest-“

Eddie made a sound of offense at the insult to his beloved battle vest, but Robin kept going.

“And second: Steve’s only gotten into one fist fight on purpose. By your logic, I could say you have a penchant for repeating senior year.”

“Low blow. You know, I’m almost too hurt to even do what I came here to do.” Eddie brought the back of his hand to his forehead, miming fainting.

Robin hummed in faux consideration. “Did it maybe occur to you that was my goal?”

Eddie gasped, overdramatic as always. “Oh, Buckley, don’t tell me the evil King Steve has turned you against your fellow freak!”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Steve is not evil,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “and if I don’t get to work before 3:00, he’s going to pick the movie playing on every tv in the store, and it’s gonna be that stupid star wars movie and if I have to see those alien teddy bears one more time I’m gonna gouge out my eyes with quarters.”

Eddie winced at the mental image that painted and jogged a little to keep up with her brisk pace toward the front doors. Robin pushed through them harshly and continued out into the waning sunshine of early fall.

Without turning back to face him, she asked, “And what’s your deal with Steve anyway, why do you keep bringing him up?”

Eddie, having finally caught up to her, only a little out of breath said, “Let me give you a ride, there’s something I need to pick your brain about.”

This, mercifully, made Robin pause. “If this is about whether or not Steve and I are dating, or sleeping together, or whatever, it’s a big fat ‘no’.”

Eddie shook his head. “Do you really think I’d stoop to the low of common high school gossip?”

Her eyes roamed over him, seemingly trying to sus out his ulterior motives, weighing them against the effort of walking all the way downtown.

Finally, she let out an exasperated groan. “Fine, but if any of your questions piss me off we ride the rest of the way in silence.”

Eddie agreed to her terms and led her across the parking lot to his van. Once they were settled in the front seat, Eddie practically flew out of the parking lot.

“Well, Munson,” Robin said through gritted teeth, knuckles white as she held the handle above the door, “what do you want to know?”

“Ok, most importantly, how do Henderson and Harrington even know each other, outside of, I guess, Dustin being friends with Wheeler and Harrington dating Wheeler’s sister?”

She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Aha! So this is about Steve! What’s your deal with him?”

Eddie held up a hand. “It’s not just about Harrington. It’s about how my newest lost sheep are keeping secrets and he seems to be at the center of them.”

Robin crossed her arms and sunk into her chair without responding.

Eddie glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Oh come on, Buckley, you really don’t think it’s weird that the head asshole of the school just suddenly starts hanging out with a bunch of middle school dweebs? One of whom, might I add, is his ex-girlfriend’s little brother?”

“Head asshole, two years ago,” Robin jabbed back, “You’re telling me you didn’t notice when he lost all his friends and only hung out with his ex and the guy she left him for? How Billy terrorized him just as much, if not more, than he and Tommy ever did to anyone else? Sure they were assholes and a general nuisance, but Steve never held someone down and punched them until they blacked out.”

When Eddie couldn’t come up with an answer quick enough, Robin barreled on. “You’re so intent on putting people you don’t like in little boxes so you can step on them like the lunch trays you’re always destroying,” she glared at him, now clearly genuinely angry instead of just playfully annoyed, “you of all people should know that sometimes there’s more to people than what you might assume just by looking at them.”

They were stopped at the same light that Eddie had had his original epiphany at and Robin seemed to deem the car ride over. Before Eddie could even process her words fully, she had slid out of the passenger seat and slammed the door as she marched toward the Family Video parking lot. Even after the light turned green, Eddie found himself watching Robin storm into the store, catching a glimpse of the man in question meeting her at the door and placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. When Harrington looked out the glass door and saw him, still idling in his van, Eddie punched the gas all the way to Jeff’s house.

[dollbrbie]

♡ ⸝⸝ NOT GOOD ENOUGH

cw. fratboy!isagi, reader doubting herself & isagi’s relationship, pretty angsty, i don’t love this but oh well, its #foreshadowing :p

after yours and isagi’s first argument, you both decided to swear off parties for a while. before isagi, you would rarely attend any, going on the occasional weekend out with your girls. but since isagi was someone who threw these type of party’s with his frat, it was sort of unavoidable that you got more into it.

but now you both agree it’s getting pretty repetitive, and starting to get to you both. besides, you always had as much fun, if not more, when you guys did typical, boring couple stuff. like staying in and watching a movie, maybe ordering some food and heading to bed early or even just lounging around just simply getting to enjoy each other’s company.

so for the next two months, that’s what you did. having early, quiet nights at your dorm to escape the usual party atmosphere at isagi’s frat brought so much more peace to your relationship, a kind of peace you both hadn’t experienced quite yet. it wasn’t like isagi didn’t give you peace, but it was just different. a good kind of different.

and you could tell how much isagi preferred it when anytime his friends suggested coming to a party, just for tonight, he’d always decline and hit them with, “nah, i’m just gonna chill with my girl.”

it was amazing while it lasted, and you felt like you were in the best place with yours and isagi’s relationship. but after a while, you started noticing his friends giving you strange looks, the kind of looks that definitely rubbed you the wrong way. you didn’t really feel like mentioning it to isagi. after all, they were his friends, they probably just needed to warm up to you.

it started off as little side eyes, something you could ignore and just shrug off. but soon came when you started to hear their whispers behind your back and the words that would soon send you spiralling.

“i honestly think the reason he doesn’t spend time with us is because of her. have you seen how she treats him? she’s definitely turned into some crazy control freak.”

“a girl like her isn’t good enough for isagi. he’s way too nice, so he’ll never put her in her place.

“sure, she’s pretty. but, that attitude? nah.”

“i bet isagi is just scared of her. he’s follows her around like a lost puppy! and he’s too nice to say anything.”

“nah for real, what happened to the party animal isagi used to be? there’s no way it isn’t down to her, they’re together 24/7, she’s definitely controlling him.”

yeah, it was insanely obvious they were talking about you through their hushed whispers, even if they never said your name directly.

you tried not to let it bother you, but since hearing them, it’s like your mind has played them on loop, making you overthink situations where you probably had been a little harsher than you should’ve, or where you begged isagi to stay at your dorm to hang out when his friends called.

but where you really being one of those kind of girlfriends? you did notice isagi hadn’t been at practice as much. granted, he always attended the compulsory ones, but when thinking about it, that just wasn’t like isagi.

and even if they had been jokes, your boyfriend did say you were mean to him. in the moment, it seemed like he didn’t mind, that he was going along with the joke. but, what if he mentioned something to his friends? what if he didn’t actually fuck with that? am i being paranoid?

fuck.

even your boyfriend noticed the solemn, dissociative vibe you had, asking you “are you okay?”, every five seconds.

and each time you’d nod with a small smile, “i’m okay.”

but you weren’t okay. and isagi shouldn’t be okay, he shouldn’t be okay with you. that’s what you had decided.

you felt like you were spiralling, and you had no idea what to do. this wasn’t even just isagi now, it had you so down that you couldn’t focus in your lectures.

and as much as you wanted to avoid it, you knew you had to do something about it. for yours and his sake.

you had to end this relationship.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[bloatedandalone04]

To The One I Love - 4

Series Masterlist

➪in which your parents come to see you, and you quickly realize how many moments you’ve forgotten in not only your life, but theirs as well.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You slept for longer this time, Tyler knew that because he fell asleep after you and woke up before you did. 

It was now day three, and your parents had finally been able to sort out a way to get here. They would be driving instead of flying, so it would take them a bit longer, but at least they were on their way. 

He plugged his phone in and was just about to close his eyes again, but a soft knock sounded on the door, followed by Dr. James poking his head in. “Bad time?”

Tyler glanced over at you before shaking his head. “No, she’s just sleepin’. We talked a lot yesterday, I think it may have worn her out,”

“That’s alright,” James nodded, “It’s good that she’s responsive and awake. It’d be a different story if she were still asleep and hadn’t woken up yet.”

Tyler didn’t even think about that. You hit your head pretty hard, what if you had never woken up? He didn’t even want to picture that reality, especially since he was still trying to get used to his current one. 

“Anyway,” the doctor continued once he realized that Tyler hadn’t said anything back. “I’ll have to wake her up so I can check her stitches and replace the bandage.”

Tyler nodded, reaching over to grab and squeeze your hand, taking it upon himself to wake you up. A quiet call of your name and another squeeze of your hand did the trick, and soon enough your eyes opened. 

Dr. James quickly rounded the side of your bed, a new, clean bandage in his gloved hand. “Hi, Y/n,” he greeted with a smile, and you smiled back before looking over at Tyler. “I’m just here to change your bandage and check on your stitches, is that alright?”

You nodded slowly, still waking up as you shifted higher against the pillow. “Will it hurt?”

Tyler felt a small smile form on his face at your question, and he moved the chair closer to your bed as he laced his fingers with yours. “It shouldn’t. I’ll remove it slowly in case the stitches are stuck to the bandage,”

You bit your lip and nodded again, more hesitant this time. “It’ll be fine,” Tyler assured you, and you glanced over at him again with a nervous look on your face. “You’ll be fine, baby.” 

James slowly loosened the bandage around your head and pulled it away, and the edge of the stitches were a bit stuck to it. Your hand squeezed Tyler’s at the faint tug, but then the used fabric was successfully removed and set aside. 

This was the first time Tyler has seen your head injury since the day you got it, and it already looked a lot better. Granted, he saw it a mere few minutes after it happened, and he couldn’t see much since you were bleeding profusely, so really, what did he know?

He hadn’t realized how big it was, with one end starting in the middle of your forehead and the other going past your temple and nearly halfway on the side of your head. Your skin was bright red and irritated, and there were a few spots of blood here and there, but the stitches were looking good. 

Tyler let you hold his hand with a death grip as Dr. James gently cleaned up the skin around your stitches, then he rubbed some clear stuff over them before reapplying a new bandage. “There we go,” he commented, stepping away from you as he discarded his gloves. “That’s better. It should be time for your medication soon, too, so I’ll send Nurse Karson in within the next few minutes.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“Thanks,” Tyler added as James left the room, then he turned back to you with a grin. “You did so well, babe. Only broke two of my fingers.”

You blushed at his tease, looking down to see just how tightly you were holding his hand. “Sorry,” you mumbled, loosening your grip. “I was nervous.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured, “You can squeeze my hand whenever you want.”

You smiled at him, pressing your lips together. “I’m really glad I have you here with me, Ty…” you trailed off, and Tyler felt his heart swell at the nickname you haven’t given him in three days. Before this, you always called him Ty and rarely called him Tyler, so to hear it now was nearly enough to bring a few tears to his eyes. “I don’t know what I would do if I was here by myself. I don’t want to be alone.”

Tyler shook his head, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’ll never be alone, baby,” he promised, “Not as long as I’m alive, you won’t.”

Your expression softened as your fingers gripped his tighter. A faint pink blush coated your face as you gave his hand a soft tug, murmuring, “C’mere…”

He stood, letting your hand pull him closer so his thighs were pressed against the side of the bed. His heartbeat was loud in his ears as you reached for his other hand and pulled him so he was leaning over, and when he was close enough, you released both his hands in order to wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

Tyler felt himself begin to melt against you, but he still made sure he wasn’t putting too much of his weight on your body as he gently hugged you back. He buried his face against the side of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that only belonged to you. It felt like it had been weeks since he last touched you, not a mere three days, so he wasn’t holding himself back too much. 

“I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” you whispered, gently pressing your face against his shoulder. “God, I’d be lost without you, Tyler. Literally.”

He smiled against your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’d be lost without you,” he murmured, and he meant it with every inch of him. “The fact that you’re willin’ to stay with me even though you don’t remember what we were…Your trust in me is everythin’. You’re everythin’.”

You pull away and Tyler had to force himself to let you go, sitting next to you on the bed instead of going back to that God awful chair. “Tyler…did you and I…did we have a bonfire at some point? I don’t know if it was a dream or real, but I remember a bonfire, and you and I were really drunk and all over each other,” you hesitantly ask, playing with your fingers as you look over at him. 

Tyler’s eyes widened a bit as he thought back to a few summers ago, when he and the gang had one of the biggest chases ever and you suggested he throw a get together the next night to celebrate. 

He spent a good portion of the next morning gathering logs and branches, and he invited over a bunch of people to your house. That was the first summer you spent living in that house, and it was definitely a great way to start off that chapter of your lives. 

You were right, you and Tyler did have too much to drink and were practically the embodiment of the word ‘PDA’ as nothing was off limits. Boone teased Tyler relentlessly the next time they saw each other since Tyler couldn’t keep his hands off you that night and ended up taking you to bed before the party even ended. 

Tyler felt himself sit up straighter, “You remember that night?” He asked for clarification, and you nodded slowly. 

“I think so…we were celebrating something I think,” you trailed off then you sat up straight, too. “Wait, so that happened? That wasn’t a dream?” 

Tyler shook his head, a hopeful look on his face. “No, baby, that wasn’t a dream,” he murmured, taking your hand in his. “That was real. It happened a few years ago.”

You squeezed his hand, your eyes never breaking away from his. “What does this mean?” 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, reaching over to softly grip your chin. “But it’s a good thing. It’s a really good thing.”

Your eyes were looking a bit brighter now, and you looked more lively. It was a glimpse of who you were before the latest storm, and Tyler knew he missed that version of you, but he wasn’t aware of just how much. But he loved you before, and he loved you even more now. 

“Ty,” you start, opening your mouth to continue but before you could, the door opened and Nurse Karson walked in with a grin. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” she apologizes, making her way over to the other side of your bed. “I have your medication. How are you feeling today?”

You watched as she set the cup of pills onto the table before your eyes met Tyler’s again. “Better,”

After that, your pain medication kicked in real quick and soon enough you were sleeping again. Tyler had retreated back to the chair and had his legs propped up on your bed as he scrolled through the channels on the TV, the volume muted so he didn’t wake you up. 

But the quiet didn’t last long as the door swung open and hit the wall behind it with a soft thud, and you jolted awake as your parents came stumbling into the room. “Oh, Y/n,” your mother gasped as she ran over to you, her hand reaching out to gently caress your face. 

“We came as soon as we could, honey,” your dad said as he stood behind your mom. “How are you feeling? How’s your head?”

You were clearly still a bit shaken up at the sudden wakeup, but you relaxed once you took your mom’s hand. “I’m okay…my head is okay today,” 

“Thank God,” she let out a deep sigh, looking back up at your dad. “We were a nervous wreck, sweetheart. We couldn’t find someone to watch Louis and your fathers boss was being a real prick about the whole thing and-”

“Who’s Louis?” You asked as you looked between your parents. “Do I have a brother I forgot about?”

Your dad’s eyes widened and a strangled scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “God, no,” he grunted. “Louis is the Aussie mix you got us as a going away gift.”

“I got you a dog?” You gasped, looking over at Tyler. “We got them a dog?”

“It was your idea,” he raised his hands and sat up in the chair. 

“Where’s our dog?” You asked with a pout and Tyler laughed. 

“We don’t have one,” he answered. “Yet.”

You give him a hopeful look before your mom brings your attention back to her. “I guess that means your memory isn’t back yet?”

“No,” you quietly reply, looking down at your hands. “But I remembered something from a few years ago earlier today. It’s a good thing.” You repeated Tyler’s words, and he glanced up and shared a look with your dad.

“How are you doing, Ty?” He asked as he placed his hands on your moms shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

Tyler forced out a smile, feeling his eyes burn at the sudden question being directed at him. He preferred it when the attention was solely on you, so he could suffer in silence. “I’m good,” he lied, a tight grin on his face. 

You looked over at him again and it was like you knew he was faking it, and somehow that comforted him. “Tyler’s been my rock,” you say, reaching over to take his hand in yours. “He’s been here the whole time.”

Your father locked his jaw as if he, too, was holding back his emotions. “I’m glad you have him,”

“We’re so grateful, Tyler,” your mom added, tears fully streaming down her face. “You were there for her when we couldn’t be.”

“Hey,” you sternly said, softly glaring at your parents. “Don’t say that. You couldn’t have known.”

Your mom shook her head, taking the tissue your dad held out to her with a grateful smile. Your parents reminded Tyler of you and him, and they were also high school sweethearts and still going strong. He knew that you and he could do it, too. “I know, but still. I feel terrible that we weren’t here when you needed us,”

“Mom, it’s okay,” you whisper, squeezing her hand. “Really.”

She nods, wiping at her eyes before leaning in and brushing your hair out of your face. “You just focus on getting better, sweetheart,” she murmured, pressing a faint kiss to the bandage on your head. “We’re here now, okay?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” your dad agreed and you gave them both a tired smile. 

You whispered, “Thank you,” before turning to Tyler. “And you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he mumbles, “You know I’m here for you. Always.”

Your dad clears his throat, wrapping his arm around your mom’s shoulders. “Get some sleep, honey,” he said, “The doctor said you need your rest to recover.”

You nodded, leaning back on the bed. “Can you find out when I’m allowed to leave? I hate being stuck in this bed. The sheets are scratchy,” 

He laughed, “I’ll see what I can find out,” 

Your mom followed after him then stopped to look at Tyler. “How’s the coffee here? Is it any good?”

Tyler gave her a regretful smile and shook his head, giving her all the information she needed. 

“Damnit,” she muttered, giving you a sheepish smile before scurrying back over to you and kissing your cheek multiple times. 

“God, mom, really?” You whined, gently pushing her away. 

“Don’t ‘mom’ me,” she scoffed, wiping at her eyes again. “You don’t know the hell your father and I went through when we found out what happened.”

Your expression softened as you bit your lip. “Sorry…”

Your mom waved you off, placing a comforting hand on Tyler’s shoulder before making her way to your dad who was still hovering by the door. “Don’t be,” she shook her head. “Are you hungry? Maybe I can find you something nice in the cafeteria.”

Tyler looked down, knowing she most likely wouldn’t be able to find a damn thing that looked nice in that cafeteria, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that. “We’ll be back, honey. And we’ll try not to scare you this time,” your dad grinned before guiding your mom out of the room so they could start on the tasks you’d given them. 

You stared at the door for a few more seconds before letting out a breath of air. “Holy shit, Ty,” you gasped in disbelief. “My dad has a full on beard now.”

Tyler laughed, realizing that you were probably so used to seeing your dad with a shaved face since he only started growing his beard two years ago. Before that, his face was hairless, and Tyler could see how odd that would be for you. “Yeah, he’s been workin’ on that for a while now,”

“He’s gotten so scruffy,” you laugh quietly, and Tyler could see your eyes start to water. “And my mom’s gotten so skinny…and I don’t remember any of it. They’ve been living their lives the last ten years and I don’t remember it.”

Tyler’s face softened and he knew that you had hidden your true feelings from your parents. “Baby,” he trailed off, not knowing what he could say to make you feel better. There was nothing he could say to make you feel better. “I know things are hard right now, but you just need to focus on gettin’ better, like your mom said. Those memories are still there, somewhere inside that gorgeous head of yours, it’ll just take time.”

He hoped, anyway. But if you truly never got back all your memories, he would be able to accept that, because at least he still had you. 

You nodded and cuddled under the scratchy sheets of the hospital bed. “I’m going to try to sleep for a little longer, okay? My head’s a mess right now. Well, more than it was before,” 

Tyler hummed in understanding, reaching over to lace his fingers with yours. 

He stayed beside you while you slept, and around fifteen minutes passed before the door opened and Dr. James walked in. “I saw that her parents are here and wanted to check on her, make sure she isn’t overworking herself,”

“No, they were easy on her,” Tyler answered and James nodded. “Hey, um…before they got here, she remembered somethin’ that happened kinda recently. A bonfire party we threw a few years ago…”

The doctor raised his brows and stepped further into the room, being careful not to make any unnecessary noise. “Well, based on her recent memory tests we did and now this, it seems like it’s improving,”

Tyler didn’t want to get his hopes up, so he just shifted casually in the chair, keeping his voice low. “So she’s gettin’ her memory back? Slowly?”

“While there are signs of improvement, nothing is certain,” he explained and Tyler didn’t feel as deflated as he would’ve had he allowed his hopes to overtake the rational side of him. “Recovery isn’t always linear. There will be setbacks and periods when progress feels nonexistent. But, the fact that she remembers something from a more recent time in her life is a big step in progress.” 

“So it’s possible for her to remember our relationship? Most of it, anyway?”

“That might take a bit more time,” he answered quietly. “Memories of loved ones are deeply rooted in emotional connections. While her short-term memory is improving, moments from a few years ago or more will likely start to return. It’s an unpredictable process that can’t be rushed.”

Tyler wasn’t sure if he properly understood a single word of that, but he knew that you remembering the bonfire was a good sign, and that’s all he needed to hear. “Did her father happen to ask when she is allowed to leave?” 

James laughed quietly. “Oh, yeah. He mentioned how eager she is to get out of here, and I don’t blame her. She’ll have to stay here for another couple days,” he told Tyler. “Since we’ve concluded that her head was the only severe injury she received, and since we can’t do much about her memory loss, we can’t keep her here for much longer.”

Tyler held back a smile as he nodded, glancing over at you. “Thank you,” he whispered, his attention fully on you now since he knew he would be taking you home soon. “I’ll let her know when she wakes up.”

Dr. James nodded before leaving the room, and Tyler moved the chair closer to the bed. He couldn’t wait to go home. He hadn’t been there since your accident, and he missed the familiarity of the house he shared with you. He hoped that maybe being in a new (but technically old) environment would trigger something in your mind and it would lead to you remembering the moments you and he shared in the home. 

Ten minutes go by before your dad enters the room, a cardboard box in his hand and a timid look on his face. “She asleep?”

“Yeah,” Tyler answered and watched as your dad slowly closed the door before making his way to the other side of your bed and sitting down on the chair near the window. A smile formed on his face at the logo on the box, and he lifted a brow, “You couldn’t find anythin’ in the cafeteria?”

Your dad shook his head as he placed the takeout box on the bedside table. “No, nothing good enough for her. I just grabbed something nice from the place down the road. Doctor said it was okay,”

Tyler hummed, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear while you slept, “She can go home soon, did he tell you that, too?”

“Yeah, I meant to tell her before I left, but thought you might’ve asked about it, too,” he grunted, his eyes softening as he watched Tyler sit back in the chair. “You’re part of the family, Ty, you know that. You’ve always been. I need you to know how grateful her mom and I are that you were here for her as soon as it happened. You were the one who found her and brought her in, right?” 

“Yeah,” Tyler mumbled, not wanting to relive the moment he saw you with that open gash on your head. “It was me and Lilly. She kept me sane while we waited.”

Your dad gave him a tight smile. “Tell her I said thank you. And thank you, Tyler. Knowing she wasn’t alone for a single second while we weren’t here…it means the world,” 

Tyler’s eyes stung a bit as he shook his head. “No need to thank me. You know how in love I am with her. I can’t live without her,”

“You and me both,” your dad laughed, his own eyes a bit watery. “Anyway, I do have to thank you. I want you to know that we appreciate everything you’ve done for her.”

“‘Course I do,” Tyler mumbled, sniffling and quietly clearing his throat as he felt himself get a bit annoyed at the fact that he didn’t have control over his emotions right now. “And you know I’ll be with her everyday once she’s back at home. We’ll take it slow.”

Your dad gave him a firm nod as your mom walked into the room, a frustrated look on her face. “How’s she doing?” she asked just as your eyes slowly opened. “Hey, sweetheart, how are you?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, shifting so you were sitting up against the bed. “Why do you look so pissed off? And why does dad look like he’s crying? Why are you crying?” You directed that last question to Tyler, and he quickly looked away and tried to subtly wipe at his eyes. 

“I’ve been trying to get some time off work so we can stay here with you, but now my boss is being  a prick,” your mother mumbled, “You’d think after seven years of not complaining, working overtime and going above and beyond, I’d get a little sympathy. Son of a-”

“Okay, mom,” you quickly cut her off, a laugh escaping you after. “It’s okay. You guys don’t need to risk your jobs for me. There’s not much you can do, right? My head will heal, and no one can control my memories. Please, stay as long as you can, but don’t get fired for me. Please.”

Your dad opened his mouth to protest, but sighed instead. “We’ll stay as long as we can, honey. But you know I don’t give a rat’s ass about my job, right? You’re my daughter, you come first,”

“I know, and I love you both more than words can explain, but I can’t be the reason you lose your jobs,” you murmur. “You both know there’s only so much you can do, the rest is up to me.”

Your mother nodded, her angry expression softening as she looked down at her phone. “Oh, here he is again,” she muttered. “Hang on, sweetheart. Eat some of the food we got for you, okay?” She gestured towards the takeout box before stepping out into the hall, and you looked over at the table. 

“You guys got me actual food?” You asked in disbelief as you reached for it. 

“Yeah, I promise it’s better than the shit they serve here,” your dad grunted before standing up. “I’ll go get you some water.”

Then it was just you and Tyler in the room again, and you looked over at him with a sad smile on your face. “I feel terrible for making them come all the way here,”

“Don’t worry about that, babe,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I don’t think they’d be anywhere else right now. They love you so much. And so do I. Besides, I don’t mind sharin’ you for a bit.”

A blush takes over your face as you press your lips together. You meet his eyes and smile, and he loves you so much. Your eyes, your smile, your personality, all of it. 

“That smile,” he whispered, leaning over towards you. “I’ve missed it.”

You blush again and forget about the takeout box as you pull on his hand. “Come here…” you mumble and he stands up. “I just want to be close to you for a bit.”

Tyler sat down next to your thighs, “Is this better?”

“It’s perfect,” you grin up at him. “Are we one of those super touchy couples?”

A smirk formed on his face as Tyler settled next to you. “You mean, are we a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah. We’re definitely one of those couples.”

You smile and look down at the bed. After a few seconds, you let out a sigh. “I wanna go home,” you say quietly, looking back up at him with teary eyes. “I don’t even remember it, but I want to go there. I wanna go there with you.”

Tyler reached over and wiped your tears away, his brows furrowing in barely-concealed anguish. “You will, baby. Soon,” he promised. “Dr. James said you’ll only be in here a couple more days, then I’ll take you home and look after you myself.”

“Really? I can go home soon?” You asked, a hopeful look in your eyes as you gripped his hand tightly. 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Real soon. For now, eat some dinner and let me do all the worryin’.”

You nod and smile at him, wiping away your tears before reaching for the box again, and Tyler held your hand the entire time you ate.

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Viktor x Jinx’s Older Sibling

Chapter 5: Defying the Laws

Summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

Five months into her assistant career is what it took before Jinx saw the beginnings of Hextech. Jayce had been the one to offer to show her what Hextech looked like in practice after realizing that she’d only been practicing in theory.

Viktor shocked his head with a small smile when Jayce brought out the stabilizer they’d made those many years ago. Now tweaked to better preform than it once had.

Jinx was the one who laid the orb into the contraption. It slipped from her fingertips and caught in her long nails before she gently let it plop into place.

Jayce turned the dial and it sparked to life before the room engulfed in blue for a moment. It twinkled out as things began floating.

“Turn it off,” Viktor said almost as soon as the room went back to its natural coloring.

“What?”

Viktor gestured towards Jinx’s. Her eyes were wide but not in the excited way more so in the hallowed, haunted way.

Her breathing was labored. It huffed out harshly. Like she’d been running for miles without a break.

Jayce quickly shut off the device. While Viktor and Jayce landed in their original places with grace, Jinx fell to the ground.

Her knees took the brunt of the fall as her hands came up to her head. She stared off into space.

“Jinx,” Jayce said softly as he approached her, his hand extended.

“No,” she said, voice cracking, “no.” Her head tipped forward against the ground. “It was a mistake.”

Jayce’s hand pressed against her shoulder. She bolted up and jerked away like he’d just slapped her. Tears were prickling at her eyes, waiting to fall.

“It was a mistake,” she repeated right before they fell.

She kept repeating the words to herself like a mantra.

“Go get her sister,” Viktor told Jayce.

Jayce looked between the two of them. Viktor gave a soft nod, a silent “I’ve got her.” Jayce bolted out of the door.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jinx said.

Viktor slid down into the floor, using his crutch to make sure he didn’t topple. Slowly, he placed it on the ground.

“I was just trying to help,” she said, a sob beginning to tear through her. “I was going to save them.”

Viktor sat with her on the cold floor.

The door to the shop didn’t normally open unless someone was getting something fixed or picking it up. It certainly never chimed open followed by hurried footsteps of someone who’d been running.

You looked over the automobile you were working on and saw none other than Jayce Talis looking frantic. Immediately you were on your feet.

“Jinx,” he said, “she needs you.”

“Kash, I’m gone!” you yelled as you ran to the door.

“Wait—“

“Jinx,” was all you said.

“Go,” Kash said, granting his permission. Not that you needed it.

It felt like it took forever to get to the Academy. Only when you were anxiously waiting in the elevator did you ask what happened.

“I don’t know,” Jayce said. “We were showing her some stuff with Hextech and she just started freaking out.”

“Shut up,” Jinx said in a quiet voice despite Viktor not saying a thing. “I was trying to save you!” Her head whipped around to behind her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Such a stark contrast to the yell that had just ripped through her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake.”

It was then that the door opened. Viktor didn’t turn to see who it was though from the sound of the footsteps, Jayce was certainly there so the other pair were bound to be you.

“Hey,” you said as you dropped to your knees next to Viktor and Jinx. “What’s wrong?”

“They won’t stop yelling,” Jinx said.

You extended your arms to her and she leaned into them. You cradled her close. You took out the pins in her hair and her braids fell down.

“You did nothing wrong,” you told her.

“I jinxed it,” she said through sobs wracking through her body. “I always do.”

“You don’t jinx anything.”

She kept muttering. You began to rock her. Softly shushing her before you began to sing.

“Dear friend, across the river

My hands are cold and bare

Dear friend, across the river

I’ll take what you can spare”

You continued on as Jinx’s sobs slowly began to fade.

“Mom,” she said.

She curled her arms tighter around you and stuck her face between your neck and shoulder. She didn’t care that she got axle grease on her skin. Your purple blue hair covered her face in a blanket of security.

She shaking it joined your soft singing.

“I ask if you a penny

My fortune it will be

I ask you without envy”

Viktor raised his head and looked up at Jayce. Jayce met his gaze.

There was clearly much neither new about their assistant. Much to learn. Careful waters to tread.

What had happened to this young woman? What had happened to the both of you? Why such an adverse reaction? So many questions and no answers.

It took a while before Jinx’s breathing went even and her eyes fell closed. Her hands that had a death grip on your clothes went lax.

“Show me what happened,” you said.

Viktor and Jayce shared a glance. Inhaling deeply, Jayce picked up Jinx from your grasp. He walked over to a small door that led to their break room of sorts. Inside was a couch that he laid her on.

Viktor stood and walked over to the stabilizer. He waited until Jayce clicked the door shut to begin fiddling with the dials.

The same series of events happened as the first time earlier in the day.

“Good job—“

One, two, three explosions.

“Claggor!”

A hand pushed you. Just as something few where you had been. The space now taken up by your friend. His goggles were knocked off his face. Blood splattered against them as you were thrown through the hole in the wall.

You fell down. At a rapid speed. Your head smashed into the pavement. Something was coming toward you from above. You tried to move out of the way.

Your world went dark.

Your eyes closed. Your jaw clenched. Your hand came up to block your face. You fell against a floor of tiles.

A hand was placed atop your own. Slowly you let it guide your hand away from your face.

A muffled voice surrounded you.

That hand was still on your own. You let it guide you to a firm surface. Up and down it went in a slow, steady rhythm. Your fingers twitched, something bunched beneath them.

You tried to focus on that rhythm. The feel of the soft. . . fabric(?) beneath your hand.

You found yourself wheezing out breathes in harsh huffs. You tried to steady it but the sharp burning behind your nose did nothing to help. Your leg curled up beneath you. You could feel the pain that should be long gone given the several year old scar but it never vanished.

“Breathe in,” a thickly accented voice instructed. “Breathe out. Good. Repeat. Breathe in. Breathe out. Very good.”

You followed the demands of the voice you distantly recognized.

When your eyes opened, you were faced with tiled floors. A pair of legs bent at the knees right beside yours. A white vest and tie against a red shirt. A long, dexterous artist’s hand pressed against yours.

“Are you back with us?” A different voice asked as the accented one continued on.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so,” your voice felt thick on your tongue. “Whatever that was, don’t show it to Powder again.”

“Powder,” the accented voice, which you now processed as belonging to Viktor, repeated. His voice curled nicely around the name.

You shook yourself. “Fuck. Jinx. Don’t show it to Jinx again.” You took a few more steadying breaths. “Whatever else you’ve been doing with Hextech, sure, but not that.”

“Can you explain what just happened?” Jayce asked.

“That,” you pointed to the contraption, “killed our family.”

Jayce and Viktor looked at each other, both with furrowed eye brows.

“How did. . .” Viktor’s voice trailed off.

“Wait a second,” Jayce muttered to himself. “There were four suspects, two boys and two girls. One with. . . blue hair. Did Jinx steal my prototype?”

“We’ve all stolen from a lot of people,” you said as you stood up. Viktor’s hand steadied your calf and thigh when you wobbled a bit. “I don’t keep track of from who.”

You brushed past Jayce and went directly to the room that held your sister.

“Stolen from a lot of people?” Jayce repeated.

Viktor grabbed his crutch and stood up, accepting Jayce’s offered hand. “You don’t know what it’s like in the Undercity,” Viktor reminded him. “You go home. I’ll stay with them.”

“Are you—“

“Go, Jayce,” Viktor said, a rare authority ringing in his tone. “I’ll stay with them.”

Slowly Jayce gathered his things and headed home for the night. Viktor knocked on the door with soft raps before he opened the door.

You were sitting in the floor, holding Jinx’s hand that hang from the couch in yours. It draped across your shoulder. You looked up at Viktor and then looked away.

He took a seat in the plush chair across from the two of you. He sighed as his aching bones relaxed just the slightest.

“When I was eight, I tried to steal food from some riverside restaurant. I wasn’t fast. I got caught,” he said. “I was ten when I attempted to steal again. It was after my parents died in the mines.”

“Are you trying to make me let my guard? Admit to something I’m not even sure she did,” that was a lie. You did know but no need to tell him that.

He shook his head, his lip went inward a bit as the edges tilted down. “No, no, I’m simply telling you I understand.”

You exhaled through your nose and leaned your head against Jinx’s arm.

Silence came between the two of you. It wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t kind. It just was.

There hasn’t been much silence in your life ever. Not in Piltover. Certainly not in the Undercity. It was nice.

Viktor broke it, “She called you mom. You’re not. . .?”

“No,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, “no. She doesn’t really remember our parents much but mom always smelled like axel grease, she sang that song, and we have the same color hair. When she’s out of it, sometimes she gets confused.”

He hummed. “How often is she ‘out of it?’”

“Often enough that I’m used to her talking to people who aren’t there. It’s rare that it gets this bad though,” you told him.

“And do you?”

“No,” you answered. “What happened happened when she was pretty young. I was lucky enough to be old enough to understand when everything happened, all the time. I guess that’s a benefit to being the oldest.”

“How much older are you?” he asked.

“About eight years, give or take.”

“Your family?”

“All dead. Mom and dad died during the battle at the bridge. I was thirteen, Jinx was five? Vander and. . . our siblings died in an explosion when she was ten.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“You don’t have it,” he said. “I understand. I don’t have siblings but my parents died when I was young. For about a year I was by myself before I was taken in by a man but that didn’t last,” he told you. You met his eyes, golden like honey. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you said.

“It can be both.”

“Thank you for staying with her,” you said. “A lot of people don’t.”

“Of course.”

He said it like it was so easy. Like it was nothing. Like you hadn’t had people yell at you when you were on the streets and she started muttering to herself that you needed to take her to her parents and get her evaluated as she started hitting her head.

He said it like it was simple.

Maybe with him it could be.

[jk-kiwi]

The 90’s case

The 90’s case (18+)

Characters -  assistant detective JK x detective Y/N reader (Woman)

Summary - Another case in your pocket, but this time, solving it could grant you everything you’ve ever wanted.

Genre - Crime investigation, suggestive/smut, maybe slight angst, the action takes place in the 90's, THIS is fiction!

Warnings - a dead body, cheating!, the reader is married to Namjoon, they investigate a crime, fictional characters, mentions of diabetes, autopsy and overdose, some swear words.

Warnings for the not so holy parts (18+) - I’ll try to detail, so… kissing, mentions of arousal, mentions of female and male body parts, unprotected (please be safe!), he cums inside…(PLEASE BE SAFE!), he’s a little possessive, I think, a little rough, hitting your sweet spots and all, not much detailing. 

MINORS PLEASE STAY AWAY!

Author’s note - This is a story I wrote in 2020. I refined it and reposted it here with some extra spicy stuff. Y/L/N is your last name. Enjoy!

Word count - 4.1k

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

“What do you think about this, Miss Y/L/N” one of the cops asks, while dozens search for clues in the house. A normal death as supposed by the covers. “Interesting indeed.” you say, looking through the magnifying glass, taking in every detail.

“How long do you think it's been like this?” he asks with disgust, looking at the poor man. He was dead. “Oh, I assure you Mr. Choi hasn't been dead for more than 5 hours.” you say confidently.

“Do you think it was a heart attack?” you humm curiously, staring at the lifeless body that sits in the bathtub.

“Ask for some tissue samples, I’ll definitely come with a response after I get the autopsy reports.” you yawn tiredly, all the work you have been doing recently piling up on your body. 

Since when did crimes became so popular?

“Let’s do a good job, just as always.” he says, taking off his glove to shake your hand, before exiting the bathroom.

“And, any news from the expert?” says the man waiting for you outside, his body resting on the wall. “Let's not rush to conclusions, Jungkook. For now we know very little about the victim.” you smile at him, patting his arm in order to follow you down the stairs.

The place was packed with police since this morning, when the Choi family found out about the tragic incident. “What do we know about the victim until now?” Jungkook asks, opening the door of his Trabant 600, letting you hop on the right seat before taking off, him driving. 

“Name:Dong-He Choi, age: 57, medical report shows that the only problem he had was diabetes?” you question, the report, poor in details. “Too much insulin?” He interupts. “Don't interrupt me, Jungkook.” 

“Although I don't think he took too much insulin, his family said he took great care of his health.”

The man keeps silent, letting you cross over the details listed. “Family of 5 members, wife and 3 children along with him. It says here that his mother also lives there, the place estimated to cost around…10 million dollars?!” 

Jungkook whistles in disbelief. “Wow, no wonder they live in that huge mansion.”

“Don’t worry, that’s just their main house, it says here that they also have a vacation home in Manhattan, two in Japan and a condo in China.” you exclaim.

“It smells more like murder to me, he was packed, filthy rich!” You sigh, already knowing this was going to be a huge pain that you will have to deal with. You were the main detective after all.

“I don’t know what to say, he had no signs of abuse or struggle other than the injury on his head, probably from falling face first into the tub.” all the details crossing your mind, trying to picture what happened.

“I didn’t find anything unusual at the crime scene.” you throw the pieces of paper in the backseat closing your eyes in annoyance, why now out of all times. Why would your life get so busy the moment you were close to your lowest?

“Did you speak with the family, maybe they gave some relevant info.” the man glimpse slightly over your tired figure before answering. 

“His mother was in shock. Oldest son with his girlfriend, allegedly on a date, his daughters went to bed at 9, didn’t hear anything unusual during the night.” you hum, useless information once again.

“How about the wife, what’s her alibi?” 

“She found him in the morning, they were sleeping in separate rooms recently, apparently their married life was not as sweet as it appeared.” you turn your head to look outside the window, the situation seemingly familiar leaving a feeling of bitterness crawl down your throat.

“We’re almost at your house. Looks like your hubby is here too.” Jungkook notices, his car parked in your driveway. “What’s he doing here at this hour, he should’ve been at work.” you mumble making Jungkook shrug.

“How long are you going to keep doing this?” he questions, you remain silent for a moment before looking eyes with the boy. “My personal life is not your business.” you reply coldly. “I would say otherwise…hey!” he tries to argue, but you get out of the car waving at him, loving how annoyed he’s gotten.

Your steps take you closer, taking in a deep breath and preparing your forced smile before entering the house. “Hey sweetie!” his melodious voice greets you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

The man comes closer to you, his lips leaving a small peck on your forehead. “Back already? Didn’t you have a new case?” he questions with a raised brow. “I could ask the same thing, shouldn’t you be in the office?” you reply, taking off your jacket, placing it on the rack.

Namjoon looks at you a little stunned before composing himself, a chuckle escaping his lips. “I forgot something important, I was about to go back anyway.” he takes his paperwork, key and jacket before throwing you a last glance, exiting the house.

You sigh, the smell of strong woman perfume lingering around. Her perfume.Your husband has been cheating on you for a while with his secretary, a woman 10 years younger than him, you already knew. He kept excusing himself with “business meetings” out of town and all the late night working under the pretext of “I just had so much paperwork to do.” his actions were obvious.

You were a detective after all, it was your job to be observant, years of practice bringing you to the point you were seeing through people like through crystal clear glass. Plus, he was “your” man, you knew him better after all these years you’ve been together.

And even if you didn’t want to believe it at first, the traces of red lipstick, one that you never wore, were far more evidence than needed.

You were stuck, you knew he was cheating but you also couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. You were to people with important jobs and bigger concerns than love, too different from the beginning but way to blind to see. In any case, the divorce would only bring more trouble into your busy lives.

You didn’t even feel that hurt about his actions, the love between you not existing anymore. That’s why you kept going like this, letting him meet her knowing they were far more suitable for each other. 

It’s not like you were better anyways. You felt devastated when you found out, although it was expected, the only person bringing you comfort in that situation being none other than your assistant, Jungkook.

He already knew you well enough, and you’ve told him all kinds of stories along the years you’ve worked together. It was easier to forget what was happening when he was holding you close in his embrace.

The first time you gave in and stepped wrong, cheating on your husband with him, felt wrong, guilty even. But the man knew how to bring you back to him, to his bed, way too good. 

Maybe it was the shared passion for crimes and mysteries, or the fact that he always listened to your worries, ending up caring for you better than your own husband.

You lay on your bed, the curtains closed. You try to get some sleep, but the case keeps you awake. It felt weird, not like sudden death, but murder.

You could not focus on anything when a case was feeling like this, so you get your phone, ready to dial his number, in a sudden being interrupted by the heavy knock on your front door.

Rushing downstairs, you think it’s Namjoon again, coming to get some other stuff he’s forgotten about, but to your surprise it’s Jungkook.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you ask surprised, seeing him scratch the back of his neck shyly. “I thought we could work some more on the case.” did he even leave in the first place? That was the question you couldn’t bring to ask.

You smile, raising a brow, making way for the man to get inside, his grin brighter than ever. “I think we both know we're not gonna end up talking about the case.” you tease, making him look at you with lustful eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asks, stepping closer, your fingers caressing his chest. “You and me, alone. My husband…at work.” you whisper seductively.

“And what’s so wrong with that? He’s a jerk anyways.” he says, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You play this game further, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. 

“That’s what I was thinking too, and it’s not like you can keep your hands away from me for a second either. Let's not forget I'm a married woman, Jungkook.” your eyes scan him, he’s already way to worked up, you take it above one more step wrapping his arms around his neck.

“You husband is busy, but I’m not. I can take better care than him.” he says, his lips leaving slow, lingering kisses around your neck. “I think the case can wait, I have other important business I need to take care of.”

Jungkook lifts you up making your feet wrap around his torso, his lips never leaving your neck. And you know that once again you commit the same crime, letting this man in your house, in your bed, but the worst…in your heart.

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

Wrapped in a blanket, both trying to catch your breath after solving the “case” found in Jungkook’s pants.

He takes a big gulp of air, leaning back on your pillows, arms spread, his face showing pure bliss.

“Wow, this was breathtaking.” he says while watching you. “It’s not my fault you’re getting old.” you respond, leaning to get the files scattered on the floor, finally working on something that’s important.

“You still have work on your mind after all of this?” 

“Yes” you respond, getting out of the bed “I think we should work on it, isn’t this why you came?” you pick up his shirt, dressing yourself in it.

“Hey, that’s mine! What am I supposed to wear?” he asks in an upset tone, but with a shit-eating grin on his face making you roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to wear anything, I like it better anyways.” you wink before leaving the room, hearing the boy whine.

“This woman is gonna kill me one day…” he thinks before gathering his belongings, following you to the kitchen.

You were focused, munching on a biscuit, your eyes scanning the report papers up and down.

“Something’s not right here.” Jungkook suits himself too, grabbing a cup of water before chugging it down in one go.

“Why do you think that?” he asks, looking over your focused figure. You throw his shirt off going back to your room to properly dress up before tossing him the car keys. “We need to go back to the Choi mansion, I have a bad feeling.”

Jungkook complies, knowing your judgement is never wrong, taking no time in dressing up and in just mere seconds you were in the trabant, rushing to the Choi mansion.

Soon you arrive, the big gates opening like already expecting you. Getting out of the car you knock on the door, the air feeling eerie around.

“Oh, detective Y/L/N?” the woman who opened the door, Miss Choi, asks surprised. “We’re sorry to interrupt so soon, but is it okay if we look through your husband’s belongings? It’s important to the case.” Jungkook says in a sensitive tone.

She nods, tears gathering in her eyes at the mention of her dead husband. You two enter with her following behind, leading you to the lounge. “There’s not much left, the police already took most for the investigation, but you can have a look around if you want to.”

She takes you to her husband’s room, leaving right after to get some drinks and snacks.

“They were not joking when he said the cops took everything.” your remark while looking under a desk.

“What are these?” your assistant asks while pulling something from under a shelf. “Just some old magazines, where did you get them?” he points to the place making you go and inspect.

“Let’s move this.” you both get your hands on the shelf dragging it away, a mountain of old newspaper and wrappers falling from behind it.

“Chocolate?” you say after picking up one from the floor. “Wow, that’s a lot of candy for a diabetic.” you shoot him a look gathering more from the floor.

“They are not even expired, they must have been consumed recently.” you stuck some in your purse before moving everything back to place. You look around for some more information before something in the distance catches your eye.

“Jungkook, look at this.” you motion to the backyard, approaching the window for a better look. “It’s smoke.” he says, sitting next to you. “Yeah, definitely someone started it not long ago, I’m going to investigate.” 

You rush out of the room with the boy following your steps. “Y/N, this is dangerous, I’m coming with you!” he says while catching your arm, concern plastered all over his face.

“You stay here, we can’t bring too much attention. If they ask, I'm in the spare bathroom.” you say before sneaking out the house, your phone ringing in your purse.

“Y/L/N on the phone.” it’s the policeman on the other line, the guy you talked with this morning. “The autopsy results are in. He had an insulin overdose, felt sick and then hit his head on the bathtub.” 

“Yeah, great, I’m a little busy so I’ll call you later.” he doesn’t get to say another word, you end the call, getting closer to the smoke source.

“What even? That’s weird.” in front of you, laying in dim fire, a bunch of papers and documents. You put it out the best you can trying to save what’s left before your foot stomps onto something hard.

A watch.

You pick it up, scanning it before a chill of realisation hits you, making you rush back inside knowing you left Jungkook there all alone.

“Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N on the phone. Get the guys and come to the mansion, Choi was murdered.” you manage to say to the police officer before barging in, surprising Miss Choi and Jungkook in the process.

“Don’t drink that!” You rush towards the man hitting the cup from his hands, making it hit the ground breaking in thousands of shards.

“Y/N what the hell! You spilled all the tea on me! What's wrong with you?” but you’re too focused on his well being, cupping his face in your palms, forcing him to look into your eyes, heart racing in fear.

“Tell me you didn’t drink it.” you ask with worry “No, you just threw it out of my hand!” you sigh in relief, composing yourself in order to confront Miss Choi.

“Miss Choi, where was your son the night your husband died?” you harshly question. “With his girlfriend? Why are you acting so strange?” she looks taken aback.

“Because he killed his father, along with you. Am I mistaken?” you look at her, dead in the eyes, her posture stiff. “That’s nonsense!” she raises from her chair in disbelief.

“You know what, that’s it! This conversation is over, please get out of my house!” She comes closer to push you out, but Jungkook is quick to act, shielding you.

You hear the police sirens ring, the doors of the mansion opening in a rush. “I hope you have a great explanation for this, detective.” the police officer says while pointing his gun at Miss Choi.

“I found this in your backyard, Miss Choi.” you start, pulling the burned pieces from your bag. “The true medical records of your husband and some other interesting details. You must have loved him…or should I say his money?” you browse through the burnt papers, pointing once you find the important section.

“Aha, there it is! If the two of you were to divorce you would not get any fortune? This must be your prenup. But! If it was for your husband to pass away as a natural cause…you would inherit everything. Does this sound familiar?” you look at the woman, her face showing pure horror.

“Oh, what is this? Divorce papers, all signed up just for you, but I guess your signature is not on them.” the woman gets pale as a ghost, her hands trembling. 

“T-this, this is not true! Are you trying to frame me?!” she stutters while trying to keep herself composed.

“Not at all, they have sigils, stamps and original signatures, easy to check for fakes. But I suppose you need to wait a little longer, we’re just getting to the highlight of the story. The medical reports.” You throw the pieces of paper on the coffee table, keeping only the most important one.

“Mister Choi has never had diabetes.” you say with a smile on your face. “He just wanted to divorce you, and you couldn’t accept it.” the woman starts to pant for air, her hands gripping her chest.

“Miss Choi, is this true?” the policeman asks. “I didn’t want to come to this! He, he was divorcing me! I was about to lose everything!” she shouts in despair, uncovering her sick actions.

The police man gets his cuffs, putting them around her wrists.

“Miss Choi, you are under arrest for the death of Mister Choi, everything you say is and will be used against you.” she starts crying, sobbing while shouting that she didn’t want to do all this.

You throw the watch to one of the police assistants. “Get his son as well, his watch was near the pile of burnt paper.” you say staring at the scene unfolding in front of you, some realization hitting you as well.

You sigh relieved, happy that you managed to successfully solve yet another case. Jungkook drives you home, the peace around you a little too peaceful.

“Why did you hit my hand?” he asks, breaking the silence. “I was afraid she was going to put something in your tea.” you admit hearing him hum before stopping in front of your house. The atmosphere around you is quiet, the dusk setting in.

“Your husband got home.” he mentions. “Yeah, he has.” you sadly acknowledge.

You say goodbye and enter the house, your husband in the kitchen. “I heard you solved the case! Congratulations!” Namjoon says, coming closer to you, a glass of wine in his hand.

“Yes, I did.” you take the glass, swirling it around before placing it on the counter.

“Namjoon, we need to talk.” you say while looking into his eyes, it was time.

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

Your heart was pounding in your chest sitting in front of the door, wondering if you should knock or not. “Come on Y/N, you can do it.” you say before knocking once, your heart exploding while hearing his voice on the other side.

“Coming!” You fix your hair and put up a big smile when Jungkook opens the door, dressed only in a pair of gray sweatpants, his skin smelling like fresh soap from a mile away.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asks, confused. “I figured we could work on some cases, mind if I come in?” you rush to say, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Yeah, sure, but…is everything okay?” he asks while letting you inside, putting a black t-shirt on.

“Do you love me?”

“What question is that?” his cheeks get brighter at your sudden boldness.

“I just want you to be honest with me, do you love me or not?” you ask again, looking at his rigid form.

“Well…I want to say yes.”

“Then say yes.”

“You are married, Y/N.” he finally lets out, a pang tugging at his heart knowing he souldn't feel the way he’s feeling.

“Not anymore.” you whisper, showing your ringless finger. “I’m divorcing.”

“What.” he lets out in disbelief.

“Mister Choi’s case made me realize something, you can’t stay with a person for what he has or what he can give you. I want someone that loves me and knows how to cherish me.” you shyly say before locking eyes with the man in front of you.

“Then yes, I love you. So, so much. I’ve loved you for the past years, ever since I got assigned to be your assistant.” he comes closer to you, sticking his chest to yours, but not touching further.

“You drive me crazy in so many ways, you’re smart and can unravel even the most tangled cases. You’re to die for pretty and so sexy when you look at me with those eyes of yours, it makes me jealous to know I couldn’t find you first.” he finally touches you, his fingers gently cupping your waist.

“I’m so mad when I think of that stupid ex husband of yours managing to have you all for himself just to cheat and leave you weak and exposed. Or when I think of way too many ways to make you look at me, to let me claim you.” his face comes closer to yours, many emotions erupting between the both of you.

“Or when I get that sweet taste of your lips, and I rip those moans out, making me so fucking proud to please you, even if it’s wrong.” he kisses you, slow and tangy, but not for long, letting you desire for more.

“I love you. I’m greedy and I want you all for myself.” your eyes get teary, a feeling of comfort, safeness getting into you. You felt at home.

Wrapping your arms around the man you bring him close enough to whisper onto his lips. “Then have me for yourself.” you say, enough words for Jungkook to comply. Shoving your clothes off in no go, leaving you exposed only for his eyes to see, passion burning around the apartment.

His hands lead you to his bedroom, shoving you in his bed, not breaking the hot kiss he’s gotten you trapped in. 

He pulls the t-shirt over his head, his pants following right after. You look with so much love and lust at him, your hands bringing him closer by the band of his boxers, making him whine.

“Pull them off, baby.” his tone, seductive, encouraging you to touch him further. You do it, taking off his boxers, letting his cock spring free in front of you.

“Y/N, if you keep looking at me with those eyes of yours, I’ll cum right now.” he admits, slightly embarrassed, face flustered, aching member leaking with arousal.

“Should we get to the good part then?” you question, biting your lip.

“All of this is the good part…” 

You lay down, not breaking eye contact, letting him climb on top. His hands rest on your thighs spreading them nice and wide. “You’re drippin’ baby.” his eyes never leave your sloppy count.

“Just do something, Kook, I’m dying here.” he chuckles before gripping his cock, giving it a few tugs before bringing it closer to your entrance.

“From today, only I get to see and touch this.” he possessively says, licking his lips before pushing his tip inside of you, making you moan.

“You’re so hot and tight.” he whimpers, bowing his head at the sensitivity. “Please move.” you mewl, waiting for him to start pounding you the way you deserve.

He starts off slow, wanting the moment to last, but in a couple of minutes his peace gets faster and faster, making you see stars in the process.

You whine and cry underneath him, feeling so full and so good, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, letting you know you made the right choice to leave your husband for him.

He was pulling your strings so well, grunting every now and then when he touched that sweet spot of yours making you squirm or when you moaned too loud, knowing he'd hit your cervix just a little too deep.

“Jungkook! I’m close!” you shout, the ceiling above you turning from black to white. He keeps his rough pace, hitting deeper and deeper if possible. 

“I’m close too, baby.” he whispers before giving one last thrust, spilling his hot seed inside of you, claiming you as his.

You reach your high as well, fingers clawing at his back, trying to bring him in for some closure, both of your arousal slipping your fluttering core. He rests his head on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, kissing your neck every now and then.

You raise his head, swearing you could see an entire galaxy into his eyes. He was yours now, and you were his, both of you ready to throw everything aside for each other.

You smile lovely at him, knowing he will forever be your happy place, your passion, your crime.

[princess-ibri]

Made some more Disney Oz stuff! (Click for better quality)

Little line up of how the characters would overall look for Disney's "The Wizard of Oz"

And then a family tree of how I'd link the characters together (usually I try to only use Baum created names but Singra is a really good name for the Wicked Witch of the South so we'll let it slide)

So my thoughts on the Glinda/Evanora/Theodora backstory is that Glinda was the daughter of King Pastoria, with Locasta the Witch of the North. But she vanished one day, and after a year of fruitless searching and another of mourning, Pastoria decided his daughter needed a mother, and married his Grand Vizir Singra, the Witch of the South.

Little did he know that Singra was actually wicked, and had been behind his first wife's disappearance.

For a while, the girls were all happy enough together. Young Theodora especially loved her new father and sister. But as they grew older, things began to change. Singra asserted more and more control of the kingdom, and Evanora followed after her footsteps, and her stepfather was convinced to name her as the official Witch of the East.

Eventually Singra made her move, and killed Pastoria--but Glinda caught her in the act, and in an attempt to save her father also ended the life of the Wicked Witch. Her defeat of Singra also gives Glinda her title of Witch of the South, on top of her royal one.

Evanora was unable to prevent Glinda from fleeing the palace and soon took up her mother's postiton as Grand Vizir/Steward of Oz, telling everyone that Glinda was responsible for the King's death. Her own powers grew in wickedness but cost her her beauty, and she was forced to rely on the magical amulet her mother used to cover her true face. She also instates her sister as the new Witch of the North.

(Singra had wished to have Evanora instated as Witch of the North, but the title could only be granted by previous holder, either willingly or through their death. Singra had been unable to truly defeat Locasta, instead locking her memories and true form away in that of an old woman named Tatty-poo, so the title could not be truly passed on, but Evanora told Theodora and the people of Oz it had been officially transfered to consolidate power)

(During her reign Evanora also had a daughter, Mombi, with the Crooked Magician Dr Nikidik)

The events of Oz the Great and Powerful happen, and Evanora and Theodora are cast out, Theodora taking up the title of Wicked Witch of the West after fleeing to Winkie Country, and Evanora the Wicked Witch of the East. They go out to battle against Glinda and Oscar from time to time, and in one battle, a firework costs Theodora one of her eyes.

Oscar and Glinda are not without their own losses though. During this time they’re blessed with a baby girl, who they name Ozma, and for several years they’re happy together, even if having to pretend Oscar is the Wonderful all powerful Wizard takes its toil. And Oscar realizes that this charade can’t last forever, for several reasons, both that he can only pretend for so long due to aging—and that both Glinda and Ozma will far outlive him due to actually being magic. In an attempt to rectify that, he seeks out a magical potion that will grant him eternal life—but the Enchantress who gives it to him is in fact Mombi, the daughter of Evanora, who tricks Oscar into giving over Ozma (his greatest treasure) to her in exchange for the potion, not realizing what he’s done.

(Ozma is trapped in a mirror that also sends part of her out into Our World, where she will later meet Dorothy in Return to Oz)

When Oscar realizes his daughter has been spirited away and that it’s his fault, his and Glinda’s relationship suffers drastically. He retreats from even her into his role of the Wizard, and she removes herself from the Emerald City to live in Quadling Country.

Meanwhile, Evanora becomes increasingly desperate to regain her lost beauty, even having Theodora's old ruby slippers stolen from the Palace in hopes of using their wishing magic--but a Kansas farmhouse costs her the opportunity.

From there the events of The Wizard of Oz plays out, (still deciding what I want to do with Theodora) but events will also happen that end with Oscar and Glinda going off together to try and find their daughter, thus explaining Glinda’s absence in Return to Oz

Return to Oz happens, and in following adventures afterwards Dorothy helps reunite Ozma with her parents, and even her grandmother Locasta

And that’s what I’ve got for Disney Oz for now!

(Also Dorothy gets to be a witch)

[lemotmo]

Okay, here are my thoughts about 911 episode 8x09…

Please remember that they are in random order as I think of them. I can’t be bothered to put everything in chronological order.

I've put everything behind a 'read more' as to not spoil anyone who hasn't seen the ep yet.

The first call Maddie takes with the killer. For some reason they put emphasis on the ‘disconnected’ tab when the killer hung up. I know it’s probably coincidence, but for some reason it stuck with me because of the 8x12 title also being ‘Disconnected’.

The first Buddie talk in the episode when they are both cleaning the see-through windows of the locker room. The way Buck is so eager to help Eddie out is just soooo telling. He keeps wanting to help Eddie out and he keeps saying ‘we’ instead of ‘I’. I just… that man is so crazy about Eddie and he doesn’t even realise it. And the way they stood at opposite sites of the window? So close, but yet so far because there is something in between them. This ties back all the way to the end of the episode when they hug. But it’s still very symbolic of what is about to happen with them in the following episodes when Eddie is leaving.

Eddie’s “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.” is going to come back and bite him in the ass when he is all alone in Texas and he realises just how much Buck did for him and still does. He is going to get hit by an anvil when he finally understand what it is he feels for him. Oh sweet fanfiction goodness, how I’ve longed to see you happen for Buddie. 🤗

The dog rescue call was actually a lot less angsty than I had anticipated. I expected angry Eddie with those stills and that one reaction shot in the promo. But in the end Eddie sent Buck a lovely smile when he saw him with the dog. In a way it’s an even better reaction than him being angry with Buck. He knows that Buck would never leave that dog behind. He accepts him just as he is and he is endeared by it.

Okay, back to the kidnapper story. Why is Athena the only police officer in LA again? I’m not even going to bother to understand anymore. I’ll just accept that Athena can do it all. She is Athena Grant Nash after all. 🤷‍♀️

All right, look… I love how Maddie figured out all the information about the missing girls, but how is it possible that a 911 operator finds out more information about a kidnapping case through Googling than the police? And how is it possible that the leading detective on a case just casually discusses very sensitive case details with a 911 operator? I just… what?

Aaaah! The people visiting Eddie’s house looking to rent it! That scene was Buddie gold! The way Buck subconsciously tries to sabotage the whole thing is the most fanficcy thing that has ever fanficced. And he is really totally unaware he is doing it. It’s just a natural thing for him to yap about certain stuff like meth labs in the neighbourhood. Eddie’s face was so great!

My heart broke when Buck overheard Eddie saying that he has no ties in LA and that everything that matters is in Texas. I get why Eddie said it, because he is trying to convince himself that he is doing the right thing by moving to Texas. Subconsciously he know that he really doesn’t want to move at all.

And of course all of this leads to Buck feeling left behind and uncared for again. The Buckley parents have so much to answer to. So what does he do? He adopts a dog and tells everyone he found a new best friend as some kind of pay-back towards Eddie.

Then it backfires, because as soon as he ‘outs’ Eddie, which… really? That is the word Buck uses later on in the episode? Please… foreshadowing 101!

The way Buck clearly doesn’t understand why Bobby, Chimney and Hen all agree with Eddie going back to Texas for Chris. As soon as they all hug Eddie, Buck’s face goes through a journey, because he too knows it’s the right thing to do, but he also realises he feels all kinds of things about Eddie leaving. It’s a glorious scene.

Okay—listen, Maddie talking that pervert into killing himself? That was a chilling scene and it kinda made me feel very nauseated for a moment there, because what do you mean sweet lovely Maddie has to do something so cruel in order for a girl to survive? Why do they keep putting Maddie through terrible shit like this? JHL though! What a phenomenal actress! 911 is so lucky to have her! The anguish on her face was so real.

The whole conversation between Buck and Eddie in the firehouse was once again gold. The whole Buck telling Eddie how hurt he felt about Eddie talking behind his back like that and his “I don’t need you either” comment? Just when the dog runs off to be with its real family? The way Eddie just stood there, in the frame, watching Buck say goodbye and hearing him say how hard it was to say goodbye to people. I was shooketh! 🫠

That brings us to the moment when Buck is in front of Eddie’s door again. He seems more relaxed now while Eddie seems stressed. The whole ‘outing’ comment was wild! Why would they choose that word?

I love how Eddie calls Buck out on the fact that he does tend to get lost in his own emotions up to the point where he finds it hard to step in somebody else’s shoes. It’s clear from everything that Eddie doesn’t want to go to Texas, but it’s like he said to Buck, if he has to choose Chris will win every single time. Which is normal for a parent to be honest. And Buck gets that. He doesn’t want to get in the way of that. But he also doesn’t want to be left behind again by someone he so clearly loves. He just doesn’t know yet how deep that love runs. It’s so tragic how they keep missing the signs. But oh so delicious to see it all play out on our TV-screens. The angst and the eventual pining will be perfection! 😋🙂‍↕️

Love how all of this leads up to a farewell party and the revelation that Buck is the new renter! OMG!!! Sweet fanfic perfection! We were right! So many of us speculated Buck moving into Eddie’s house and we were right!!! When Eddie will come back, they will be roommates! And I’m pretty sure that at least one of them will have realised their feelings by then, so the awkward pining will be so satisfying to watch!

But ‘Freddie Fakeman’? Really Eddie? This didn’t ring an alarm bell?

Eddie’s teary eyes when he said: “You really did that for me?”🥹 And the way Buck just explained that he would do anything for Eddie and Christopher. I just… Eddie open you eyes already and follow your heart.

And another hug!!!!!! EEEE!

Eddie’s last lingering look at the house was so telling. He really doesn’t want to leave, but he knows that he needs to go for Christopher.

(But Eddie, please turn off the lights when you go out. What are you doing? You're just wasting energy.)

Back to Maddie and… yeah, we all saw this coming from miles away right? There were definite signs in the trailer that the detective was dirty. Interesting how we didn’t get the Maddie scream from the promo in this episode. 8x09 and 8x10 really do belong together.

That’s all I’ve got for this episode. All I can say is, if anyone was still doubting that Buddie was in the cards? After this episode it’s very clear that Buddie is exactly where this is going. I don’t know about you, but I’m here for it! 😏

[cultural-marxism-official]

last veilguard rant i swear

something ive been mulling over for a bit now again connects to the whole "elves/dalish rejecting the evanuris after finding out they bad"

this never really sat right with me for a whole host of reasons

-how did that knowledge spread from the inquisition?

-why would they spread this knowledge and how would they prove it?

-why would elves/dalish believe it with no proof?

but most importantly, why would it change anything for the elves and their faith? think about it, imagine if you went to ancient greece and told them "hey umm some of your gods were really bad and cruel, tryants actually" and said greeks going "oh wow that sucks, we will no longer worship them!" because that's essentially what veilguard does. granted the greeks knew more about their gods than the dalish do but that only strengthens my point. the matter of faith is written very strangely(poorly) in veilguard. for the most part it doesn't really engage with faith and religion much at all, which is very disappointing but when it does, it's done in a very blase kinda way. it feels like most characters are atheist/agnostic when that doesnt fit with thedas at all, religions are core to all societies weve encountered. what i believe has happened here, is a modern thinking issue with the writing, it plagues nearly every aspect of veilguard.

veilguard seems to look at faith as a matter of personal choice and that people follow the gods that are the good ones, so when they find out those gods were BAD, welp, not following them anymore! this is ridiculous and fundamentally not understanding the core of faith and belief. The elves/dalish don't worship the evanuris because they're the good and nice gods who's doctrine aligns with theirs. They worship them because they are SUPREME DIVINE BEINGS WORTHY OF WORSHIP. They are the creators and shapers of your reality, of your destiny, they are the arbiters of your eternal soul and to turn your back on them is to invite their ire. I say this not meaning specifically the elves and evanuris, but this is how most religions work. You don't choose this faith over that one because it fits your personal feelings, you believe because there is nothing else, no other god, other faiths are HERESY and LIES. Really, there isn't a choice at all unless you reject it all, something very rare in thedas because you know, magic and the fade are REAL.

So this notion of elves instantly rejecting their lifelong gods after discovering they did some bad shit is just stupid. Again, they are GODS, it is not for a measly mortal to remotely understand or be able to pass judgement on their actions. In religions morals, ethics, right or wrong do not function the same for divine beings, they are gods, anything and everything is within their right to do and the reason a mortal, a worshipper does not reject them for it is...BECAUSE THEYRE GODS AND THEY WILL SMITE YOU!!!

Same reason devout christians don't curse god for the bad stuff that happens in life, despite him being able to prevent them, it is blasphemy and it makes god angry.

All this on top of some elves already following fen'harel for example, despite it being known he is the god of lies and tricks. Faith here isn't based on him being a good god to worship, but because he could fuck up your life and you wan't to appease him to prevent that. So it should not matter at all if everyone magically became aware of the evanuris and their crimes, they are still GODS, in fact seeing them in the world should strengthen belief in them if anything and it shouldn't even enter into any believers mind that they need to be stopped or that it can even be done. Who are you to deny the will of the gods?

All this is just another example of how shallow the worldbuilding in veilguard is. We've all noticed that hardly anyone in game references religion in their dialog. No "makers breath", no "andraste's tits", no "by the paragons". It's not because the characters of veilguard are all atheists for some reason, there isn't some well thought out reason for it, the writers simply didn't bother to dig deeper into the core aspects of thedas and the forces that shape its societies.

game bad

[tizeline]

Asking some writers/artists I follow:

Is there anything in your fic/comic that you as the author know about, but won't end up in the actual story?

So I have a rather uh disorganized way of telling the story of the TSAU, I jump back and forth in the timeline quite a bit depending on what part of the story I wanna tell. Overall I improvise quite a bit, and because of that I can't be 100% sure what will be depicted in the story and what wont. But I might as well share some little tidbits of lore that are probably not gonna be mentioned in the main story (though they still might who knows lol)

So uh. April and Kendra are exes. Kinda. They were pretty close friends when they were younger and decided to become a couple when they were like 9 or something. This lasted for a grand total of.... 2 days, maybe? Then they had a huge fight about something silly like, I dunno, Kendra hacked April's tamagotchi as a prank and she got mad so they broke up and they've had major beef ever since.

Draxum made Mikey wear some type of artifact or gear that supressed his mystic powers as a kid for his own safety. Mikey started showing an incredible talent for the mystic arts at a very young age. Draxum was excited about this for all of 5 seconds before realizing that Mikey is a VERY small child with NO impulse control and he's definetily gonna turn himself and the rest of the family into glitter unless Draxum finds a way prevent that from happening until Mikey has the chance to develop an understanding of consequences. (He's learned to control his powers well enough to not need them by the time of the main-story, so he no longer wears the supressors)

Donnie's whole villain-act he puts on is partially a coping mechanism. He grew up never knowing anyone like himself (unless you count Splinter, I suppose) so the only times he saw himself represented in anything was characters in comics and shows and such. There were plenty of anthropomorphic reptile characters in the media he consumed, and Donnie clunged to anyone or anything that he could at least somewhat relate to. Problem is, a lot of these anthro reptiles were like.... y'know... villains. It's pretty common for super heroes and stuff to fight evil mutant reptile creatures, and even stories with only anthro characters reptiles tend to be charactarized as more villainous. Granted, turtles specifically usually don't get this treatment, but it still had quite an effect on Donnie as a little kid that most characters similar to him would be viewed as evil, which caused him to internalize that mindset. So turtle tot Donnie basically went like "Yes! This is what I am! A villain in someone else's story! It all makes sense now! This is a healthy mindset to have!" and just kinda embraced the role that human society had given to him because he didn't really know how else to deal. (Things changed after meeting April and he found out that there might actually be humans out there who might treat him like a person and not just a freak of nature! He still plays into the villain-persona, partially for fun and partially as a coping thing, but he doesn't have nearly as a negative view of himself now as he did as a tot)

And last, but certainly not least................ Draxum owns a Lou Jitsu body pillow (PURELY for research-purposes, NO other reason!)

[onebourbon-oneshot-onetear]

Lilla Solen- Eric Northman x witch!reader

Just another Eric oneshot. This could be a sequel to Familiar, but you don't have to read it. Although I'd be happy if you did...

I'm just now starting season 4 so if this isn't accurate to the show's timeline then I'll get there eventually :)

It had taken me weeks and weeks of trying, and failed spells, and damn near blowing my house up before I had even caught a glimpse of success. But a few weeks ago my plans had just started to come together and since then I’ve been working night and day until I’ve finally got it right. 

A few months ago I had been dragged into another one of Sookie Stackhouse’s overly complicated situations. Typically I liked to stay neutral in these things, but after Eric had asked, if not begged, for my help, I could hardly say no. It wasn’t until Eric and a so-called vampire king started drinking from Sookie and stepping outside that I actually realized just how much shit I was about to be dragged into. 

I’ve never had a heart attack, but the way my heart was pounding out of my chest as I watched Eric on the security cameras stepping into the sun for the first time in a thousand years, I really thought I was in the middle of one. Pam and I were both glued to the screen and we couldn’t take our eyes off the screen. Her because she thought her Maker was dying, and me because I couldn’t stop looking at the serene look on his face as he closed his eyes and faced the sun. Until he started burning, then I thought he was dying. 

The events following that day were, well hectic would be an understatement, and for the weeks that followed, the thing that stuck out to me the most was Eric’s face. I couldn’t imagine not being in the sun for a week let alone a thousand years. So, I made the inane decision to try and bottle up the sun. Well, not the actual sun, but a close enough replica. I wasn’t even sure I was a powerful enough witch to make this happen, but after hundreds of hours of pouring over spell books and journals, I had the basis to create the spell. 

It took another hundred hours until I got a breakthrough. Then another dozen before I almost set my kitchen on fire. Then a couple more dozen until I had finally gotten it, and was able to replicate it safely.  

The whole process was a killer, especially keeping it away from Eric. After he had been burned by the sun, I had given him some of my blood to help heal him. Now that we had a blood connection, he could sense every bit of panic that I was feeling, which often led to numerous nights where he sprinted over here just as I extinguished some flames. While he demanded answers, I just had to tell him that I was working on some witch stuff. Which wasn’t a lie. Now I just tell him beforehand when I’m working on some tricky spells so he doesn’t panic. 

I was finally at a point where I felt comfortable showing him my work. I texted him around noon telling him I had something to show him, and was just waiting for him to wake up and make his way over. The sun was about to set as I made some last minute adjustments to the kitchen, cleaning up little things here and there. I had always fiddled with things when I was nervous, so this was making me go into overdrive. Usually I wasn’t a self conscious person, but this was making me worried. Such a gift seemed almost intimate, and while there were feelings on my end towards Eric, we had never labeled it. I didn’t even know if he felt the same. 

I had known for a while that my feelings towards Eric weren’t just platonic. He was a good friend, and we had spent many nights in this kitchen or at Fangtasia just talking and reminiscing about our long lives. But Eric was a very closed off vampire, and never showed too much emotion. The closest I had ever gotten to knowing what Eric was thinking was when Pam made a small throwaway comment about how I was Eric’s “favorite little witch”. Granted, the woman loved drama so who knows if she was being serious or just stirring a pot. 

The familiar woosh of air at my back door and the associated knocking pattern told me Eric was here. Despite him being allowed inside whenever, he was usually a gentleman and knocked first. The few times he just barged in he had made me drop quite a few mugs and glasses. He felt bad enough that he started routinely knocking. 

I walked across the kitchen and opened the back door. He turned and threw me a dashing smile, his eyes looking me up and down slowly. “Hey,” he said. 

“Hi,” I answered, opening the door enough for him to come in. Eric always seemed to relax when he was here. He mentioned before the low light and herbs reminded him of home, and it always warmed my heart that I could give him that level of comfort. 

“You said you had something to show me?” He asked, tugging off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his long sleeve shirt. 

My eyes trailed up his arms as I watched him roll his sleeves before shaking myself from the not-so-wholesome thoughts that had started to form in my head, mainly involving his hands and where he could put them. 

“Yes, please, come sit down,” I said, gesturing to the living room. Much like my kitchen, the living room was small and quaint. Outfitted in older furniture, warm colors, too many candles, and just as many drying flowers, it looked more like a room out of a storybook. Which, to be fair, was the vibe I was going for. “I’m sorry if I pulled you from something important.”

Eric sat down on my couch, folding his hands on his lap. “No, nothing is more important than you.” He grinned as the blush spread across my cheeks. Sometimes I couldn’t tell if he just liked seeing me blush, or if he actually meant what he said. 

“So, over the last couple of months I’ve been thinking,” I said, sitting on the floor opposite of Eric so I could use the coffee table. “When you drank from Sookie, and you stepped outside, you looked so peaceful, and so comfortable being able to see daylight. So I made you something.” 

I pulled out the enchanted jar and placed it in the middle of the coffee table. The jar was empty except for a few sparkles glimmering in the candlelight. Eric’s eyes crinkled in confusion as he looked between me and the jar. 

“You got me a mason jar?” He asked. 

I rolled my eyes, “No, Eric. Just watch.” I closed my eyes and lightly touched the glass of the jar. I whispered the incantation, the latin rolling off of my tongue. Behind my closed eyes I could see the orange glow from the jar, and my fingertips felt the jar getting warmer. 

I opened my eyes, the little ball of light inside the jar glowing as bright as a sun, giving off a beautiful light. I looked at Eric, who at first seemed tense, like he was expecting to burn, but after a few moments he closed his eyes and sank into the couch and the light. He had the same look on his face as he did that day outside of Fangtasia. 

I couldn’t fight the grin on my face even if I wanted to. The hours of burning my fingertips and frustration were worth it just to see the serenity on his face. I slid the jar to the side of the table so we weren’t blinded. At the sound of the glass sliding on the wood Eric opened his eyes and stared at me in awe. 

I stood from the floor and sat next to him on the couch, his blue eyes, brighter in the sunlight, never left my face. 

“How?” was all he could ask. 

I shrugged, “I created the spell. I used some different variations of magic, made sure the jar wouldn’t break, temperature control…It’s simple in theory but harder in practice.” I said. Eric’s staring was only broken by him glancing at the jar every few seconds. “It only lasts for about an hour before I have to say the incantation again, and only I can activate it, but other than that it’s all yours. It follows the cycle of the sun, so when it’s close to going out, it deepens into a sunset.” I finished, twisting my fingers together nervously. 

We sat in silence, him staring at the jar as I watched him. I just took a mental snapshot of the look on his face. He was a fairly hard man to read but I knew him well enough to see where his mind was going. He was figuring out how hard it was to do this, the time and effort it took for me to do this, and then the reason why I would do this. See, that’s where he got confused. That’s what he couldn’t understand. Why I would care enough to go through all the trouble. 

“Eric?” I quietly asked. He had reached out to the jar, running his finger up and down the warm glass. His eyes reflected the light coming off of it, drinking it in. 

“I don’t really know what to say,” He mumbled, dragging his eyes from the jar back to me. “Thank you, for starters.” 

I shrugged, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

Eric moved closer to me, our knees now touching. “You have no idea how much it means to me,” he said. His mouth moved but no words came out until he finally mumbled, “I’m actually speechless.” 

Now my blush had overtaken my neck, cheeks, and ears. “You don’t have to say anything. Honestly, I just wanted you to be happy. This is well worth it,” I mumbled. 

Eric grinned, leaning forward and cupping my cheek. “Y/n, I honestly don’t know how to thank you. This means so much to me, you have no idea.” Eric glanced down at my lips and my blush only deepened. “What do you call it?” 

“Lilla Solen. It’s swedish, for-” 

“Little sun,” Eric finished. I nodded. 

“Yeah, I thought it was fitting.” 

“Y/n”, Eric whispered, running his thumb on my cheek. Eric had slowly started to lean forward until we were only a breath apart. 

“Eric,” I whispered back. My eyes closed as he gently pressed his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. He pulled away and I opened my eyes, a grin stretching across my face. I grabbed his collar and pulled him back in for another longer kiss. 

“It’s about time,” I whispered when we broke apart again a few minutes later. Eric chuckled, swiping his finger over my slightly swollen lips. 

“I’d say. Pam said if I didn’t kiss you soon she’d lock me in the basement,” He said, rolling his eyes. 

I laughed, knowing the woman was serious about that. “That reminds me,” I said, pulling a smaller jar out of my pocket, “I made one for her too. It just isn’t as powerful.” 

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” Eric said, taking the jar and putting it next to his. Eric wrapped his arms around me and pulled me towards him until we were both leaning back on the couch, facing the jar. 

I was tense for a moment before I relaxed into his hold, snuggling into his chest. Eric ran his hands up and down my back tracing little shapes. This was all very new behavior that I could very much get used to. 

“I didn’t know you spoke Swedish,” Eric said. 

“I don’t, but I just looked up the translation. I figured if I’m creating something new, the name should be enjoyed by the person I’m making it for.” I answered. 

“How long have you felt this way,” He asked, quietly. 

I took a moment to think about the answer. “Quite a while now. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make things awkward between us. And I never knew how you felt.” 

“I should have told you sooner,” Eric said. 

“It’s alright. At least we know now.” 

Eric was silent for a moment, “You know, this really does give me an excuse to keep you around. To light this thing every night,” He said. I could hear the grin in his voice. I looked up and he was giving me his classic Eric smirk. 

“Did you really need an excuse to keep me around?” I asked. 

Eric’s grin got wider and he leaned forward and planted a kiss on my forehead. “No, I was gonna keep you around anyway,” He mumbled. 

I laughed and lay my head back down on his chest, basking in the glow of the jar, and in Eric’s embrace. Yeah, this was definitely worth it. 

[manonamora-if]

May Check-In

Hi. It's been.... almost a year since I did one of those. And until Harcourt, I hadn't posted here since October. During that time, things... happened in my personal life. I'm not going to get into it* here, but it affected greatly my ability to create and interact with IF in general. I'm getting back on the tracks, slowly returning to my original routines and circles. *maybe through more cathartic writing? after more settling.

Let's get into the longer things:

Recap of last month's progress what I've been up to since July

The 2024 To-Do List

Plan for this month

Some general lines for the rest of 2025

TLDR on the important things because it's really long: Harcourt was my announcement of some return to normalcy. I'm in the process of moving. There's going to be an announcement later this month. It's good to be back. Here's to a healthier rest of the year!

What I've been up to since July?

Some posted here, some missed (I should make some separate posts). Instead of comparing posts, I'm just recap'ing it all.

The 100% Good Assets

I created a Harlowe guide for Saves and Settings, updated the huge SugarCube Guide to match the 2.37 release, generalized the Tweego Folder for Mac users and other Twine formats, expanded the ChoiceScript to SugarCube Guide, made a Harlowe template to resemble Chapbook, updated all the SugarCube templates to 2.37, ported Cloak of Darkness to Adventuron, started Chapbook templates (Save System out, Config.style still a WIP), and finally, made a Chapbook Reference Page for convenience*. *the Guide is already chef-kiss, but the Ref Page is easier CTRL+F'ing stuff

Releases

I participated in a secret jam from the Sacred Veins collective with Svipul (an excuse to create in Twine 1/SugarCane). The theme was Righteous. This is not a happy story.

And as a final hoera in 2024, Dénantir for the Partim500. It's a mini French parser made in Donjon.FI (which had been on my to-try-list for at least two years). Some more sadness and reminiscing.

As you can see, there was a mood...

Updates

Aside from the assets listed above, obviously, the major one: the final story update of The Trials and Tribulations of Edward Harcourt. Released 6 months later than announced, but out nonetheless. Granted, the game was 90% done last October, but I dragged my feet (when IRL wasn't in the way to begin with) to deal some major coding issues that messed a lot of things.

Neo-Interactives and other Events

After the major success Neo-Twiny Jam, where we raised more money than last time (help us repeat it?), there was the Single Choice Jam, Bring Out Your Ghosts, Anti-Productivity Jam, The Bare-Bones Jam, (from here, I was less involved) Educational Jam, ShuffleComp 2024, Smoochie Jam, and the recently ended Dialogue Jam. A lot of participation overall with pretty neat entries! After a very busy, but very exciting, first full calendar year of events, we've decided to scale it back a little*. In 2025, at least, only the month-long jams will be held. *I have a huge backlog of stuff to play now... and NTJ25 is coming soon...

In other events I've helped, there was the IFCOMP for which I did Socials and Moderation, and the SeedComp! that kinda fizzled out at the end (tbf being completely MIA didn't help).

And finally, the Interactive Fiction Showcase 2024 which had so many entries. Which reminds me, I didn't announce the 2025 Showcase yet, which I should do sooner rather than later.

I did play some games, and reviewed a bunch last winter, but that fell off as well earlier this year.

Awards and other cool things that happened

I interviewed Chandler Groover for @the-rosebush-mag, following his win at the 2024 IFComp. This was such an honour to sit down with him and talk about his journey through IF.

I PROMISE I AM WORKING ON THE GAME and machina caerulea was included in the 56 edition of Indiepocalypse! A double feature~ And included with some really cool other people too!

I PROMISE I AM WORKING ON THE GAME was in a 1st-place tie for Best Use of Interactivity at the IF Short Game Showcase.

Les lettres du Docteur Jeangille won Outstanding French Game of 2024 at the IFDB Awards!! And a bunch of nominations for most of my 2024 games (though none came as close). Really proud of this. Twice in a row too! Won't happen this year, because no French Comp for me.

And David Welbourn included Not Another Sad Meal in his monthly parser walkthrough (January 2025). It's kind of wild. I've been using his amazing walkthroughs when playing many old-school parsers. And now I'm in the list! That reminds me, I need to fix some things.

~ And I think that's it? I've missed some pretty eventful periods, so a lot of stuff fell through the cracks.

It does look like I've done a lot, even during my quiet times, but it's really been more in spurs. Short periods of extreme activity and long ones of nothing (half of the summer, the whole of November, most of December, most of January, and from February until mid-April). In other words, when I had some quiet time to actually do something and when shit really hit the fan. It's been hard to balance, but I think I'm regaining my footing. April's been somewhat of a blessing in disguise.

~

The 2024 To-Do List

... has not really been followed. I haven't fixed the bugs on any of my older projects, or finished any of my WIPs (well, Harcourt, but 6 months too late). Instead, the first half was filled with unplanned game releases. On the bright side, I've fulfilled my wish of testing out new programs, or getting better at them. Well, and with Harcourt now out, I guess one thing got crossed out.

On the other hand, I haven't reviewed/played as much as I had hoped*. Even updated my website is completely out of date. Also dropped the ball on all the social media stuff. Very lacklustre year. *esp. the Neo-Interactives entries. It was important to me that every entry got some comments, to ensure everyone knew people looked at their work.

So hum... yeah. ⭐for "participating", lol.

~

The PLANtm for May

Not so much of a plan, more of what to expect this month, which... won't be much. Because the thing is: I'm moving at the end of the month. So between packing, selling, cancelling stuff here, and unpacking, opening, and probably buying things there, my IRL To-Do is arm-length at this point. It's both super stressful and a huge relief. I picked such a good time to come back, lol.

But I hope to have time to do some things. If not in updates/engaging, at least in planning for the rest of the year.

Harcourt: while the story is finished, there are still some kinks in the code/interface that can be handled better. As mentioned in the the update post, it's currently an Open Beta. There are a couple of things I'd like to add in-game. Nothing major. I don't expect the polished version to be out this month, but I'd like to make some progress on it, at minimum.

Secret Project: this will have a proper announcement later this month, but I'm currently planning a summer project for myself. It's both related to IRL and IF. Some good stuff I hope.

Really Bad IF Jam: is back by popular demands. The whole month of May, you can let out some steam by making terrible stuff. If I manage some free time, I might wing something?

Website Update: because it's a long time coming. Half a dozen games are missing, so does a bunch of new info. And it could do with a new interface.

Reconnect with the community. As a whole. I want to catch up on a lot of stuff I missed, and return notes that have been sitting in my inbox for too long.

I think if I can update the website and manage to tick off enough from planning of the secret project, I'll be pretty pleased with myself.

~

Some general lines for the rest of 2025

Normally, this is where I whip out my yearly to-do list of things I want done but probably not even manage to make a dent into it. You know the list from the start of the year, when I do my retrospective. Which hasn't happened this year either. So there's no list.

But for now, my main goal is to get back into a good healthy rhythm, where I can balance IRL stuff, IF responsibilities, and my own projects, without burn out looming or me being unable to do the things I enjoy doing. I think I'll need to make peace with my own capabilities, and stick to proper limits.

In terms of limits, the first has to be participating in events. It's not sustainable for me to try and make a game for all the IF events/game jams that catch my eye - even if I really want to or find them inspiring, and even if I can combine them. Almost all my projects have been created for or ended up submitted in a competition or jam; with ~90% of those being done on a whim/last minute. And because nothing I put out is a perfect bug-free experience, that means re-adding more to my plate with each submission. Because I still like those events very much, I need to be more realist with what I can do, and back out when things are not attainable. Like I have so far this past year. I had full planned or some form of ideas for the SingleChoice, Anti-Productivity, Educational Jam, ShuffleComp, the French Comp, the SpringThing and the Text-Adventure Jam, which all passed without a peep from me; as well as projects I've pushed for a later time for the ParserComp, IntroComp, IFComp (can't since helping organising), and EctoComp from last year. It's both been a disappointment (because I can't work on those ideas), and a relief (less stress to meet a too-short deadline!). So, for now, I'll most likely stick to just @neo-twiny-jam (for a good cause), and the Partim500. In huge part because it's only 500 words max. But also because they are the most fun experience I recall having, consistently. For any other jam, I'll restrict myself to long length (>= 1 month dev) only if I have actual time and a concrete plan (not just a vague idea/vibe - even if I want to test a new program). As for competitions, no submissions until I've finished at least one more WIP - and the entry is actually polished and tested properly (maybe I'll get better reviews now lol). That should leave me with more time to fix older projects, and complete current (and secret) WIPs. Actually actively removing stuff from my desk. For actual realsies now.

In terms of limits pt.2, IF responsibilities. I've been a part of a bunch communities, at different levels of organising, and with different amount of required efforts. Since getting more involved in the community, I've given more than 100% of myself to everything I've said yes to. It was working great for me... until I realised how much piled up. It was already too much last year, and I knew it - I couldn't keep up with most things then. Which is why I said my goodbyes to the great @interact-if last summer, and left a bunch of other discords/spaces. As mentioned above, Neo-Interactives is scaling back as well in terms of events. I had the foresight of preparing a bunch of stuff in advance (this is why @neointeractives has had scheduled posts with reminders). It's been less hectic and stressful, since not having something looming and having to untangle every 2-3 weeks. Gotta give major props to @lapinlunaire-games and @cyberpunklesbian for all their work too (esp during my breaks), they've been real rocks! As for other events, I can be pretty laissez-faire with random unranked events (like the Showcase or Really Bad IF), like posting it and let it be. But comps (and anything with more than one clear rule) require a minimum of admin and promotion*. Time and energy I need to see if I can spend (especially if I delegate) and reevaluate. *seriously... it's more work than you think it is, because it's very concentrated on specific days. It's exhausting. Rewarding too! but exhausting. That would give me a a more balanced planning at least. More time for updating stuff (the reason why yall are following me) :)

A potential path for myself in the soon future (brought to me by moving) is maybe being able to start a Ko-Fi or Support author button on itch. There's a bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo attached to that, but it's definitely something more attainable than it was while being here. It's something I'll be checking out this summer, and if possible, there will be an announcement (maybe even a new dev name?). Anyway, that's at least for late-2025-me to worry about. Also will need to find a new job first...

In any case, a slower, calmer, healthier "normal" on the horizon. And a new website! 🤞

[fool-tarnished]

"Remember me" - Chapter 8 - Kakashi Hatake x F!Reader

Pairing : Kakashi Hatake x Female!Reader !This chapter contains slight NSFW content!

If you want to read Yamato's version, you can find it here.

Warnings : Memory loss, mind control (mk ultra inspired), violence, fluff and slight NSFW content in the end (sorry i'm not good at writing that kind of stuff)

Inspiration : Where did she go - Saleka

Words : ~ 4200

A/N : Hello there ! Here's a new chapter! I hope you will enjoy it. I don't know if I'll do more chapters or just a sort of epilogue yet. And sorry for the mistakes, I'm not a native english speaker. Thank you again for the likes, reblogs and comments ♡

← Previous Chapter - Epilogue ? → Masterlist

The rain poured relentlessly as the Copy Ninja finally approached the area his ninken had described. He had done his best to remain discreet, masking his presence to ensure you were truly alone and this wasn’t a trap.

The area seemed devoid of any other presence besides yours, and he braced himself mentally for what lay ahead. Kakashi had already spent countless hours bedridden, reflecting on what he needed to do and how to approach the situation.

Your predicament left him with few options, and he could only hope he could pull you out of this twisted scheme before it claimed one of your lives. Fear lingered in his heart, but he would not back down from what awaited him.

No matter what happened, he would not abandon you. The regret of not cherishing the time he had with you when he could still haunted him. He regretted not stopping you before you left on that fateful mission. But he couldn’t turn back time; nothing could change the past. All he had now was this desperate attempt to bring back the woman he had always loved—the woman who had loved him too, but whom he had pushed away.

Perhaps one only realizes the value of something when it teeters on the brink, fragile and nearly out of reach. Perhaps fate had dealt Kakashi this cruel hand to teach him that he couldn’t keep running—not from you, not from the cries of his own heart.

The rain reminded him of that first day you had trained together, but the context was starkly different now.

As he edged closer, he finally spotted a silhouette perched on a distant rock. Dressed in black, you sat facing away from him. The aura radiating from you was familiar, yet he felt as though you were shrouded in an even deeper darkness. Knowing you were so close, yet so far, tore at him. He had to stay calm and focused if he was to bring you back.

Kakashi moved carefully, stopping a few steps away. He sighed—a sound you caught instantly, though you had already sensed his presence some time ago.

Your head tilted slightly in his direction, still hidden behind the mask he so desperately wanted to remove. “Where is Naruto?” you demanded, your voice distorted and unrecognizable. “I’m your opponent,” he replied, his tone a mix of unwavering resolve and sadness.

Standing up, you leapt down from the rock and stopped a few meters away from him. After a few moments of stillness, you spoke again. “It’s the Jinchūriki I’m waiting for. Not you.” “You’ll have to go through me first,” he said.

A soft, chilling laugh escaped your mask—a sound so devoid of warmth that it sent shivers through the Copy Ninja. It was nothing like the laughter he once knew. There was only hatred and anger, a far cry from the person you used to be. “Eager to die, are you?”

He didn’t respond, taking his stance instead. His gaze held a mix of emotions, but his posture remained steady. “Let me grant you the death you came for,” you murmured, your words barely audible.

Kakashi focused, preparing for your first move. You lunged at him, starting with hand-to-hand combat. He blocked your strikes with relative ease. Even under the influence of whatever controlled you, your techniques were the same. You even seemed to follow the same patterns from your training sessions, allowing him to predict your moves without relying on his Sharingan just yet.

“I know you can do better than this,” he said at last, as if this were a friendly sparring match. As if nothing had changed. As if he still held onto the faint hope that his words or actions might bring you back.

You stopped abruptly, stepping back to channel chakra into various parts of your body, increasing your speed and the power of your attacks. Reaching under your cloak, you drew a blade—a weapon Kakashi would have recognized anywhere.

Your wakizashi.

The last time he had seen you wield it was during your time together in the ANBU Black Ops. The last time it hung at your side was before you left for that mission, the one you didn’t return from for years. Whoever was behind this had planned more than just brainwashing you—they had conditioned and prepared you, even keeping your personal belongings to use them against you and those you cared for. First the kunai with its charm, and now this. Kakashi felt as though he were being struck with silent, calculated blows, each one more painful than the last. Yet he forced himself to remain composed, showing no weakness.

“The last time you used that… it feels like a lifetime ago,” he said softly.

“Fight me,” you growled, “and stop talking as if we know each other, Copy Ninja.” Chakra surged into your blade, making it glow faintly. “If only you could remember me, this would all be so much easier.” “You’re not speaking to that person, Hatake. You’re wasting your breath.”

Kakashi hesitated, weighing his words as though searching for the key to free you. “I know this isn’t truly you. Somewhere in there, you’re still you…” His voice carried a sadness that failed to reach you in your current state. “I’m coming to get you, [Y/N]. Hold on.”

For a fleeting moment, something shifted in your aura. It was as if his words had reached the part of you buried deep inside, breaking through whatever held you captive. A glimmer of hope flashed across his face.

But the change was brief. Your energy turned dark once more, and a sinister laugh echoed from your mask. It would take more than words to pull you from this abyss. “If you think you can save me, you’re a fool. There’s nothing left to save. Nothing left to fight for. Accept it.”

This time, you attacked with blinding speed. Kakashi barely managed to block your strike with a kunai before you vanished again, pressing your relentless assault. When you finally paused, standing some distance away, Kakashi lifted his headband, revealing his Sharingan. If your speed increased any further, he wouldn’t be able to keep up without it.

He launched his counterattack, mirroring your movements for an instant. A growl escaped your mask as frustration began to seep into your strikes. The fight was dragging on longer than you wanted, and his refusal to use his full power irritated you. If he was stalling, it could only mean trouble for you.

Kakashi, on the other hand, was trying to buy time, though the thought of resorting to more drastic measures weighed heavily on him. He couldn’t bear the idea of crossing the point of no return—not with you. “Enough playing around, Hatake,” you said sharply, your tone slicing through the air as he furrowed his brow. He braced himself, knowing you were about to unleash a stronger technique. He barely had time to blink before you were behind him, your blade striking in a swift arc. He stumbled back just in time, his green vest slashed open down the front. Thankfully, the blade hadn’t touched his skin. Taking a deep breath, he realized this would demand more of him than he’d anticipated—perhaps even techniques he had vowed not to use against you until now. He might not have a choice for much longer.

Shrugging off the tattered vest, he let it fall to the ground and readied himself for combat again, kunai in hand. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said firmly. “But if it’s the only way to bring you back to your senses…”

As you prepared for another strike, a sudden burst of force hurled you backward, and you struggled to steady yourself. His speed and strength had surged; he was no longer holding back. Rising to your feet, you scanned the area, searching for him. Before you could act, you found yourself pinned to the ground. The grey-haired ninja loomed over you, his expression a mix of emotions you couldn’t decipher.

His forearm pressed against your torso, while one of his legs trapped yours in place. The close proximity caused a flicker of hesitation in your eyes, one he noticed immediately. He wouldn’t waste the opportunity. “I know you’re still in there,” he said, his voice low but urgent. “Fight it. You can do this.”

Anger surging again, you drove your knee into him, reversing the position. He grunted as you now sat over him, glaring down. “You just won’t shut up, will you? Looks like I’ll have to help you with that,” you spat.

His face remained steady—neither perturbed nor frightened. Your blade had fallen to the side earlier, and now you drew a kunai from your vest, pressing it against his throat. A glimmer of recognition flashed in his eyes as he glanced briefly at the small charm dangling from your wrist. He seized the moment to speak again. “Whatever it takes, I’ll bring back the person you’ve always been. I won’t lose you again.”

For a fleeting moment, the dark, raging aura around you faltered, revealing someone fragile, someone lost. Your hand trembled, and Kakashi’s eyes lit with hope. You were there. You could hear him. The shell around you was beginning to crack, and he just needed to keep breaking it apart to free you.

With a sudden shove, you toppled sideways, giving him the chance to rise. “Fate brought us back together. I believe it’s for a reason. This isn’t where it ends,” he said resolutely.

Clutching your weapon tightly, you launched forward simultaneously, kunai clashing in a fierce meeting of wills. Your faces were mere inches apart, the screech of metal grinding against metal cutting through the rain, which had started to slow to a gentle drizzle.

Breaking the stalemate, you retreated, summoning two clones. Kakashi exhaled, closing his eyes for a brief moment. His left hand moved to grip his right arm, and you saw chakra gathering in his palm. The energy quickly formed into crackling blue lightning. He opened his eyes and glanced at you. It was clear—he needed to eliminate your clones.

In a flash, your clones vanished, leaving three separate attacks converging on him—one from the front, one from behind, and one from above. His Raikiri swept out in a precise arc, dispelling the illusions and grazing your mask.

You stepped back, but not quickly enough to stop the mask from shattering completely and falling to the ground. Kakashi’s gaze locked onto your face for the first time, his attack carefully restrained to avoid causing true harm. Blood trickled from your nose, and you instinctively touched it, staring at the crimson staining your fingers. Your eyes betrayed a mix of fear and pain, though your expression remained locked in anger.

“Now that the mask is gone…” Kakashi began. “Shut up!” you snapped. “Come back to me,” he whispered, more a plea than a command.

Your hand flew to your head, gripping it tightly as you winced. He could feel the war waging within you, your presence flickering between the person he knew and the dark force clouding you.

It was happening.

Your grip on the kunai trembled, and slowly, you began to lift it. Kakashi froze as he saw the blade’s tip shift away from him—and toward you. Without hesitation, he acted, knocking the kunai aside and catching you as your body collapsed. His hand cupped your cheek, turning your face toward him. Your eyes fluttered open after a moment, and you saw him clearly. He looked exhausted, his worry etched across every line of his face.

To you, the battle had felt like mere minutes, but to Kakashi, it had been hours—a fight that seemed endless. Now, the fatigue in your limbs was undeniable.

He noticed the change in your eyes immediately. The anger, the hatred, the storm that had consumed you—they were gone. What remained was the gentleness he remembered, alongside sadness and confusion.

“You’re back,” he murmured, disbelief lacing his voice.

After a pause, you reached out, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him as if your life depended on it. One hand tangled in his grey hair, the other clutching his back. Despite your exhaustion, the need to feel his presence was overwhelming.

Kakashi, startled, slowly returned the embrace, his hands resting around you. His hardened features softened completely, the simple act of holding you melting away every burden.

“I’m so sorry, Kakashi,” you whispered, tears slipping down your face.

The rawness of your voice struck him deeply. Each word carried the weight of your regret, not just for the fight but for so much more.

“I’m sorry for everything. For leaving. For hiding my departure. I should have stayed in Konoha—with you, with Naruto.”

His body stiffened slightly. You remembered?

He pulled back just enough to study your face, his hand gently resting against your cheek. His heart raced, beating in sync with the tumult in his mind. “You… You remember everything? You remember me?”

Placing your hands on his face, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. He froze, overwhelmed by the intimacy and the truth of your words. “I remember you. I remember Naruto. I remember everything, Kakashi.”

His gaze searched yours, his mind reeling. Relief, joy, and disbelief collided, leaving him momentarily speechless. His mask hid the faint smile spreading across his face, but his eyes glimmered with unspoken emotions. For now, he chose silence, savoring this fragile moment.

When you finally spoke, your voice was steady, though soft. “Please, Kakashi… take me home.”

His eyes opened, meeting yours once more. Gently, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “We should stop by Tsunade’s to—” “No, Kakashi,” you interrupted. “Please. Just take me home. I want to stay with you. Please.”

The raw vulnerability in your plea left him no choice. Despite his exhaustion and injuries, he nodded, his voice tender. “Then let’s go home.”

________________________________________

The return journey had been equally filled with a pleasant silence, as you both simply enjoyed each other's company. Not a single word had been spoken until you crossed the threshold of your apartment. Returning to this place, which had always been your home, felt strange: as though you had never left, and yet, as though you hadn’t set foot here for centuries.

The silver-haired ninja had not stopped watching you since you had left together. He couldn’t shake the thought that he should never have let you leave without saying anything. Perhaps, he thought, he should never have let you leave at all. He had missed you terribly, and both his heart and his reason screamed at him now, begging him to never let you stray away from him again. He didn’t know whether he should thank fate for bringing you back to him or curse it for taking you away in the first place. But deep down, he understood: had everything remained as it was, he might never have truly broken his own barriers, and he might have lost you in a different way altogether.

The calm persisted as you both treated your wounds, showered, and changed into fresh clothes before lying side by side on the bed. Each of you was lost in your own thoughts, yet both savoring the other’s presence. The quiet peace you felt within yourself was something so unfamiliar, it left you unsettled. It was as though you hadn’t felt this way in so long, you had almost forgotten what it was like.

There was so much you both wanted to say, so many words waiting to be spoken, that the silence reflected the overwhelming difficulty of knowing where to even begin. This wasn’t something that could be reduced to a few words or simple phrases.

You wanted to tell him how much you had missed him, how much he meant to you, how vital he was in your life, and how you could never thank him enough for helping you climb out of that nightmare. You wanted him to know that even when your memory had failed you, you never stopped carrying him in your heart. He was here now, right next to you, and you could hardly believe it.

You were the first to break the silence, getting up and walking over to your desk. Kakashi sat up and watched you, his heart once again pounding as though it might burst from his chest. His eyes carried an unmistakable mix of tenderness, joy, and anticipation.

Slowly, you opened one of the drawers and pulled out a wrapped gift. Your expression was soft, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Holding the package in your hands for a few moments, you stared at it and closed your eyes. You had set it aside long before your departure, intending to give it to him upon your return, but things hadn’t gone as planned.

“I think this is for you… though it’s a little late,” you said, opening your eyes again.

Walking back to him, you sat beside him and held the gift out.

His gaze shifted between you and the package, silent, before he delicately took it from your hands.

Just from the shape and weight, the Copy Ninja already knew exactly what it was. He began unwrapping the paper slowly, revealing, bit by bit, a pristine copy of an Icha Icha volume that had been damaged during your last training session before you left.

Though he had joked about it at the time—more as a playful jab than a genuine request to replace it—Kakashi had kept the damaged volume. It had become one of his most cherished possessions, a memento of you, of your clumsy charm, and of the many times you teased him about his choice of reading material. He had reread it often, kept it close, as if it tethered him to you, as though it made you feel less far away.

As he finished unwrapping the gift, Kakashi finally spoke.

“You know… that ruined copy ? It became my favorite. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

You looked at him, surprised, as he placed the book on the edge of your desk and turned his gaze to meet yours. There was something different in his eyes now. Something had shifted.

The restraint, the fear, and the hesitation you had sensed before your departure were gone.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize… to understand how badly I messed up before you left,” he said softly.

You didn’t move, your eyes locked on his with the same intensity. Slowly, he lowered the mask covering his face and leaned closer to you. His face was mere inches from yours, and you could feel his breath against your skin.

“Let me make it right,” he whispered.

Seeing that you didn’t pull away, he closed the gap, pressing his lips gently to yours. At first, you were startled, unable to react immediately. But then you closed your eyes, leaning into the kiss, your hands finding their way to his cheeks.

His hands rested lightly on your waist as he shifted slightly back on the bed, drawing you carefully onto his lap. Now seated astride him, your arms wrapped instinctively around his neck. The kiss was tender yet filled with all the unspoken emotions that had lingered between you for so long. Beneath it, you could feel the faint trace of restraint, still holding back.

When the kiss broke, you studied his face, taking in every detail you had only seen on rare occasions. Your heart raced, butterflies filling your stomach, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered, except that he was here, holding you, just as you had imagined and hoped for.

“Am I dreaming, Kakashi?” you murmured, your voice almost a whisper.

Your heart was pounding, and you questioned whether this moment, these feelings, were truly real.

“If this is a dream,” he said softly, his voice laced with warmth, “then I never want to wake up. I want to stay here—with you.”

The tenderness in his words startled you, and with that one sentence, you could feel just how deeply he cared for you.

“Kakashi…”

“I… I love you, [Y/N],” he said, his voice unsteady. “I should have told you before you left. I should have shown you—”

You silenced him with another kiss, tears welling in your eyes as he returned it, holding you closer, as though afraid to let you go.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, and slowly, something began to shift between you. The hesitation dissolved, replaced by a longing that had been hidden for far too long. Every touch, every movement, was a declaration of how much you needed each other, of the fear of being apart again.

Finally, Kakashi eased you back onto the bed, positioning himself above you as he kissed you once more.

“I won’t lose you again,” he whispered.

On those words, you kissed him with more fervor than before, your hands resting on his chest, still covered by a t-shirt. He let out a soft groan as your fingers began tracing along him, and one of his hands slid under your shirt. Hesitating just briefly to see if you’d stop him, he continued when you leaned further into him. The sensation of his fingers brushing your skin sent shivers through you.

Everything was new, yet everything felt natural, as though this was exactly how it was meant to happen, as though nothing could ever stand in the way of what was destined for you both. Every word, every touch, and every sound exchanged between you felt effortless, an innate harmony that no outside force could disrupt—a moment long overdue.

Kakashi’s hands wandered further now, each sound that escaped your lips pushing him closer to the edge. When your fingers gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, he realized this was it—the moment he had waited for, the final confirmation he needed to lower his last remaining walls.

It was his turn to gently undress you, taking his time to explore every inch of your skin, as though you were a treasure he yearned to fully understand. His fingers traced each scar, every contour, while his lips left tender kisses along your body. His gaze constantly returned to your face, eager to savor your expressions and meet your eyes.

“Kakashi...” He kissed you again, his hand trailing lower until a gasp—half surprise, half pleasure—escaped your lips mid-kiss. “If you want me to stop, just say the word—” “No... No, Kakashi, I want to be close to you.”

His eyes locked on yours for a few still moments, his movements never faltering. You closed your eyes briefly, your head tilting back in response to the sensations overwhelming you. His free hand cupped your cheek gently, stroking it with his thumb. Your own hands found their way around his neck, clinging to him as your emotions and these new sensations left you utterly breathless.

The hours that followed were filled with passion, and Kakashi had to admit one thing: while Icha Icha might have been an entertaining read, it was incomparable to what the two of you had just shared. The world around you had faded entirely as you showed each other just how deeply you cared, how much you meant to one another. There were no more hesitations, no unspoken words, and no lingering doubts about your feelings or future together.

Your head rested against his chest near his shoulder, his face partially buried in your hair as he breathed in your scent, his eyes closed. Your hand lay lightly on his neck, your thumb gently brushing over his skin.

He let out a soft hum of contentment before opening his eyes and tightening his arms around your waist. “Still convinced this is a dream?”

A quiet laugh slipped from you as you snuggled closer to him. “It may not be a dream, but it still feels like one.” “Then I guess you’ll be feeling that way often from now on.”

At his words, a blush warmed your cheeks. “I mean—Hmm, the fact that—” “I know.”

A brief silence passed before Kakashi shifted slightly to hover over you, his hand threading through your hair as his gaze bore into yours. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I won’t repeat the same mistakes. I promise, from now on... things will be different.” “Kakashi, please stop blaming yourself. Everything’s okay now.”

For a moment, he remained quiet, his expression contemplative as you cupped his face, pulling him into a tender kiss. “I love you, Kakashi.”

A rare, genuine smile graced his lips as he wrapped you tightly in his arms, kissing the side of your neck. “Maybe... maybe things were meant to happen this way, after all.”

♡ Tag List : @strflp @sayumiht @yoozuku @je4nc4tb0y

[inawickedlittletown]

Dog Days (BuckTommy) -2/3

Summary: While on a call Buck and Hen get turned into dogs. Words: 2.6k Read on Ao3 Part One

-

Part Two

When Howie arrived, the dog walking at his side without a leash or collar, Tommy raised his eyebrow. The dog was big, he came up to Howie’s waist walking on four legs. He was kinda adorable though, even if he walked up to Tommy’s door with something like weariness. 

“Well, aren’t you just adorable,” Tommy said, stepping away from the doorway and towards the dog, dropping to one knee in front of him. 

The dog wagged his tail and barked. Tommy let him sniff his hand before reaching and petting his head and down his back. He was so incredibly soft and Tommy could bury his fingers in his fur. 

“Well, looks like you guys will get on fine,” Howie said. 

“What happened?” Tommy asked. 

The dog bumped his head into Tommy’s chest and Tommy continued to pet him. 

Howie coughed. “Uh, we were at a call. A fire. He has a home, but needed a place to stay. Just a few days, maybe the week? I figured maybe you’d want the companionship?” 

The way that Howie said it, suggested he knew exactly what had happened between him and Evan. Before seeing Evan at that bar, Tommy had almost thought that he had been managing things. Seeing Evan, though, and the hope that Evan handed him before crushing it down to nothing, it had taken him right back to those initial days after the break up. Maybe the dog would help.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” Tommy asked. 

Howie shrugged his shoulders. “Sure.”

“And you said he was house trained?” Tommy checked. 

“Yeah. He’ll let you know if he needs to go out. He doesn’t even need a leash, Tommy, you’re never going to know a dog more well trained than this one.” 

The dog bumped into Howie’s leg, making Howie stumble. Tommy raised an eyebrow and Howie just chuckled.

“He’s excited to be here, but he’s going to behave.” 

The dog made a point of walking around Howie and brushing against Tommy almost gently before walking into the kitchen and sitting, looking back at Tommy. On closer look, he had blue eyes, which Tommy didn’t think typical for the breed. Granted, he was probably some mix considering his coloring and thick fluffy coat. 

Howie declined a beer, but agreed to a lemonade. They went out to the backyard and the dog ran out ahead of them. 

“What was his name again?” 

“Oh. Uh. Buddy,” Howie said. 

Buddy was the most boring name that anyone could use for a dog, but if that was his name and he listened to it, Tommy wasn’t going to complain. At the moment, Buddy was sniffing at Tommy’s rose bushes. They watched him for a while before Tommy went out to attempt to play with him. Buddy seemed a little wary at first, but then he was playing with Tommy just fine and even drawing Howie into it. 

Howie didn’t stay long, but Buddy did follow him to the door and he barked at him a few times until Howie pet him a bit. It was only after Howie was gone that Tommy realized that Buddy hadn’t come with a bed or any food or even toys. He immediately called Howie. 

“What’s wrong?” Howie asked. “Did Bu — Buddy do something?” 

“No. You just didn’t leave any of his stuff? What am I supposed to feed him?” 

“Oh,” Howie said. “Owner lost everything. I didn’t even think about that. Just feed him some chicken, I’m sure he’ll like it.” 

Tommy eyed the dog. “I guess that will do for tonight. I’ll pick up some food tomorrow.” 

After he got off the phone he turned to Buddy. “Well, I guess it’s just us two now. I guess I’ll set you up a water bowl. I didn’t have plans for today. I finished fixing up some things with my car earlier and I thought of going out to the bar, but I don’t want to leave you here on your own. So, I guess let’s find something to watch.” 

Buddy followed after him and when presented with a bowl of water, he almost looked unimpressed. 

“Well, you’ll get thirsty eventually,” Tommy said with a shrug. “Now you know where it is.” 

Tommy went back to his living room, turning the tv on and dropping onto the couch. Buddy followed and jumped up next to Tommy without preamble, settling himself there right next to Tommy. It was nice to have another presence. Carefully, Tommy reached over and pet Buddy down his head to his neck and back. 

“You know, maybe having you around will be practice for getting a dog of my own someday.” 

Buddy tilted his head to the left. 

“I’m lonely here on my own,” Tommy said, answering the unasked question. “I thought maybe there was someone, but it’s really over now.” 

Buddy barked at that and when Tommy tried to pet him, he dodged his hand and jumped off the couch, barking at him even more. 

“Do you need to go out?” Tommy asked. 

Buddy barked once more, but then turned and walked to the otherside of the room, lying down on the floor. He looked at Tommy once and it felt like he was being glared at. Tommy decided to let him be and focused instead on finding something to watch. He found himself putting on a nature documentary. It reminded him of Evan. 

Buddy perked up as it started and he sat up, eyes trained on the tv. It was a little unusual, especially with how closely the dog was paying attention. Tommy found himself watching Buddy more than the tv. Buddy was still, he was silent, he was captivated. 

“You are one weird dog,” Tommy told him. Buddy gave him a side glance. 

They watched through the episode and then the next, Buddy moving back to the couch, close enough for Tommy to touch him. His fur really was soft and he leaned into Tommy when Tommy started to pet him. He wound up with his head on Tommy’s lap and his weight and warmth were definitely comforting. 

The night went on without any issues. They had dinner together — Tommy grilled some chicken and put together a salad. He cut up Buddy’s unseasoned piece and placed it in a bowl. Buddy devoured it in a few bites while Tommy was still working on his own meal. Afterwards, Tommy considered that Buddy probably needed to go on a walk. 

“Well, I don’t have a leash for you, will you be okay with just the backyard today?” 

Buddy barked and it felt like a yes. 

Buddy ran around, but didn’t do any of his business. It was weird, but Tommy didn’t want to leave him on his own in case he got out of the yard and ran off. So he watched and waited and Buddy nosed around and then looked back at Tommy a few times before he lifted his leg against the fence. He wouldn’t look at Tommy after that, as if he were shy or something. It was strange. 

“You really are an odd dog, Buddy,” Tommy said. 

Buddy barked at the door and Tommy eyed him. He’d only peed, but maybe it would take a bit more time for him to digest the chicken. Howie had said that Buddy was house trained and Tommy had to trust that. 

“You’ll tell me if you have to go again, right?” Tommy asked as if Buddy could actually understand. 

They went inside and Buddy followed Tommy to his bedroom. He got ready for the night, aware as he changed out of his clothes that Buddy was watching closely. Then, after a visit to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, Tommy pulled the covers off his bed and climbed in. Buddy didn’t wait even a minute before jumping up too. He didn’t curl up at the bottom of the bed, instead lying himself next to Tommy, head on Tommy’s extra pillow. 

“This is not normal dog behavior, you realize that right?” Tommy asked, but he let Buddy be, grabbing his glasses off his bedside table as well as his book. 

He got through a couple of chapters before he started to nod off. He didn’t think about how easy it was for him to fall asleep with the dog next to him, or how he didn’t toss and turn and wake up throughout the night like he had for months. Instead, he woke up the next morning to Buddy jumping off the bed when Tommy’s alarm went. 

He heard Buddy’s nails click on his hardwood floor and as he sat up, saw Buddy open his door by hitting it and then putting his front paw through the gap and swinging it open. Tommy could admit that he was impressed. 

“Hey, do you need to go out?” Tommy asked, swinging his legs out of bed and making to follow him, only to catch Buddy go into the bathroom. 

Tommy followed and he almost doubled over laughing. Buddy was…he was trying to get onto the toilet? And when he failed to do it, almost falling over, he just settled Tommy with the saddest look. Tommy was familiar with puppy eyes, Evan had used them on him often enough, but it was different to see them coming from an actual dog and to also find them eerily familiar. 

“Come on, I don’t know what it was like with your owner, but I don’t expect you to use the toilet.” 

He motioned for Buddy and Buddy followed him through the kitchen to the backyard. He looked kinda sad as he walked out onto the yard and then he ran hurriedly as far as he could possibly go and squatted. 

“This is not normal dog behavior,” Tommy said to himself. 

-

Being a dog was weird and yet somehow, not as weird as Buck had expected it to be somehow. When it happened, Buck had almost felt happy about it. It was…he supposed that freeing was the best word even if it wasn’t exactly right. It also then took about an hour or two for Buck to realize that he actually didn’t like being a dog. 

Not that…well, there were some perks. 

Tommy, for one. 

It had been nearly three weeks since he saw him last, the back of him as he left Buck’s new kitchen, shoulders slumped a little, and Buck unable to stop him. Wanting to, but not knowing if calling him was the right thing, not knowing if he was doing it for the right reasons. But, he’d missed him. Having a taste of him — literally — had made missing him harder and harder to push away. Buck did try. 

So, he didn’t mind that Chim took him to Tommy. 

He liked being with Tommy. 

Tommy ruffled the hair at the top of his head, fingers sinking into his fur. He tilted his head to look at Tommy. Tommy was smiling at him, but there was this edge of sadness that lingered with him. Buck hated it, and he hated that he thought he had to be at least partly to blame for it. 

The morning was easy, Tommy giving him a hard boiled egg and some fruit, and then letting out into the yard again. 

“Definitely going to get you some proper dog food today,” Tommy told him when they returned inside.

Buck was not looking forward to that. The kibble he’d fed Blaze for the time he’d had him hadn’t smelled pleasant and he imagined it tasted worse. He was not looking forward to it and even less so when Tommy got ready and didn’t immediately invite Buck to go with him. He rushed to be at the door and get in Tommy’s way. 

“Buddy, I can’t take you with me.” 

Buck barked. He also kinda hated the name Buddy. 

“You don’t even have a collar or leash,” Tommy said. 

Buck barked again. It didn’t actually take very long for Tommy to relent. 

“Fine, but the first thing I’m buying you is a leash and collar and we’re only going to the pet store. Howie better be right about you not running away without a leash,” Tommy told him right before they headed out to the car. 

So, despite an urge to run out once the door was opened, Buck strolled next to Tommy and listened when Tommy told him to get inside the car. Buck found himself in the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck. It was a familiar spot for him and as different as it felt to sit there as a dog, he was glad to be there. 

The drive was fun, especially once Buck could stick his head out the window. He had never understood why dogs liked it, but it was actually pretty awesome. The wind whipped at him and it felt amazing as it caught in his hair and made his ears flop about. It was almost a disappointment, when they arrived at the store and Tommy parked the car. 

“I’m trusting you not to run off,” Tommy said before he let him out of the car. 

Buck barked once and then followed at Tommy’s side. 

“First, leashes,” Tommy said. 

Buck didn’t dislike the collar or the leash that Tommy attached to it, but people had already given them odd looks for Buck not being on a leash. By the time that Tommy was getting the collar and leash on him, one of the employees looked like they were ready to approach them and instead just nodded and walked away. 

The pet store had a lot of smells, Buck could hardly concentrate on any single one of them. He kept to Tommy’s side and tried not to follow distractions like the treat bar near the dog section or the area where the gerbils and hamsters were in their cages waiting for someone to purchase them. 

“I have no idea what you’ll like,” Tommy mused when they got to the aisle with food. Bags of all sizes surrounded them and then there was the canned stuff. 

Buck was sure he wasn’t going to like any of it. 

“Well, I don’t know how long you’ll be with me, so we can buy a smaller bag and since you’ve been so good, some treats too.” 

Buck didn’t know if as a dog he could give a dubious look, but Tommy frowned down at him like maybe he was seeing something to make him concerned. Then, Tommy knelt in front of him. Buck was captivated by him. That was the thing about Tommy, he would always have Buck’s attention whether he was a dog or not. 

“This is so silly, but you are the one that’s going to have to eat it, so which food do you want?” 

None of them. Buck wanted none of them. With his sensitive dog nose, Buck could smell the food and maybe it wasn’t as bad as he expected, but it definitely wasn’t pleasant either. At the end of the aisle was a refrigerator. 

“Oh, is this what your owners fed you?” Tommy asked. 

Buck looked up. FreshPet. Buck barked. Couldn’t be any worse than the alternatives. 

“Yeah, alright,” Tommy said. 

Buck wagged his tail and barked again. Tommy grabbed a bag from inside. 

“If nothing else, this does look like better quality stuff. Maybe. Now, lets get you some treats. Maybe a toy or two.” 

Tommy was more wonderful than words could describe. On Chim’s call, he’d agreed to take in a dog and then he was willing to spend his own money on food, treats, and even toys. He’d let Buck sleep in his bed, and he didn’t mind that his time off had suddenly been taken up by a dog that he didn’t even know was actually Buck. 

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 5

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Jake tries to fall asleep beside you, Steven is there to adore you in the morning and Marc is still struggling. What happens when Jake breaks his lifelong silence?

Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector x reader. Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings/notables: Fluff, longing, complicated relationship stuff. Angst. References to past abuse. Struggles with addiction/alcoholism and its effects. Probably inaccurate description of addiction. self-worth probs. Violence is mentioned. kissing and touching, implied sex but no smut, nothing explicit or gender-specific. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

Oh, he liked the idea of getting under your skin. He liked it a lot. 

“Really?” He teased. “You mean you don’t scare the shit out them in the middle of the night? Follow them around? Drive them crazy...wearing that?” He threw your words back at you. 

What a little shit. 

“No,” you steadily answered him, your gaze open and honest. “I guess I’m just here to drive you crazy.” 

With little convincing, Jake got ready for bed, so he could join you in finally getting some rest. Your 3am alarm went off as he was washing up, so you silenced the one for 4:00.

Conveniently it was your day off, so no other alarm was set. Steven did have one class mid-day, but otherwise, also had the day off.

As Jake slid under the covers, you reached to turn off the bedside lamp. Then you were left in the same position you found yourself in that first night.

The night he held your hand.

Remembering what you'd whispered to him in the dark that night, you softly uttered, "I'm glad you came back to me, Jake."

"I'll always come back to you," he swiftly replied, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.

Slowly, you reached for him, resting your hand over his. He immediately slid his fingers through yours, just like the first night, and whispered goodnight.

Jake always came home while you were asleep, and he didn't even front every day. Usually he was only there when Khonshu bid him take to the nighttime alleyways and rooftops, or when Marc and Steven were in an exorbitant amount of danger...

...which was unfortunately more often than either of them (or you) were aware. Marc had a long and colorful past, in which he'd made many enemies - some of them, through no fault of his.

Abused, with an undiagnosed disorder, there were sections of his life missing, and problems he just couldn't control. That, combined with blackouts from drinking and a mighty temper, when provoked, had left a trail of...unfortunate mishaps. And pissed off former associates and enemies.

Time eased many grievances, and Marc had handled several problems on his own, years ago. But even after Jake himself had dispensed with Arthur Harrow, there still lingered fingers of his network. And those weren't the only problems.

Just last week, Jake had disposed of a man who had followed you home from work two nights in a row. He simply watched the first night, choosing restraint, but after he saw the mysterious man following you a little too closely the second night, well - that man did not live to see a third.

At first, Jake wondered how Marc could be so naive. He expected that more from Steven. Well, not naivety, exactly, but a general "chin up" outlook on life that the he radiated.

Steven, although far more direct, outspoken and cautious than most people gave him credit for, was an overall ray of sunshine. In protecting the system, Jake wasn't just protecting his own body, or Marc, who he had known since his youth, he was protecting Steven - the one Marc simply could not do without.

And Jake supposed that's what it all came down to. Marc had settled into a beautiful domesticity with both you and Steven. And maybe that was why Marc couldn't perceive the danger you were all in.

Jake was happy to keep it that way. If Marc was not only safe, but thriving, if Steven was growing and learning, putting his beautiful mind to work, and the two of them had someone they loved? Then Jake had done his job. As long he stayed on top of things, it could all work out.

But the drinking relapse was a problem. And he hadn't counted on you meeting him.

Jake had often wondered how Marc and Steven - for lack of a better word - shared you. He wondered if they ever got jealous. Or if you ever showed any preference for one over the other. That's why he thought it best to stay out of it. Not only did he hope to keep his head down and do his job, he was concerned that getting mixed up with you would only confuse him.

That all went right to hell when he carelessly barreled into your bedroom the other night, having forgotten to have Marc or Steven check in with you earlier, or go to bed beside you. He was equally panicked and wonderfully elated for this mishap.

And now, as your soft breathing slowed, he tried to pretend this night was like every other time he'd slipped through the window to find you asleep.

But it wasn't and he couldn't.

He wished you were still awake. He wished he had more time to hear your voice, to watch the flurry of you around the room, picking up his things, worrying after him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he remembered the press of your body against his - the soft satin hugging your shape.

Shit. He could use a cigarette. Or maybe he could beat the hell out of someone.

It was difficult to blow off steam when Marc - a.k.a. their body - couldn't drink and with Marc and Steven engaged to you. Jake tried to respect that. He had the right to his own life, sure, but he just couldn't bring himself to "blow off steam" in that way since you got engaged. You weren't his, but he was faithful to you anyway.

As if sensing his irritation in your sleep, you rolled over, burying your face into his shoulder, snuggling up to him comfortably.

Jake was walking a very fine line between soothed and riled up. If your leg made its way across his thigh, he was going to lose his shit.

Only a few hours later, as the sun struggled to climb into a gray sky, you woke up, tangled in someone. Wondering who might greet you each morning always brought the tiniest smile to your face, but on this morning, just for a moment, you wondered if it was Jake.

Your body stiffened. Did you sleep like this for the past few hours? Did it bother him? You hadn't ever thought of what you might do in the night when Jake got home from his escapades.

As the man beside you continued to breathe evenly, in and out, you decided that three hours of sleep was definitely not enough.

Hours later, you awoke to the domestic sounds of the kitchen. You smelled cooked food and heard the sink's water running, along with the clang of a pot or saucepan.

The sun had made its way through the morning fog, and a sliver of it poured through the crack between the drawn drapes and the window.

After stretching like a very satisfied cat, you freshened up in the bathroom and headed back to your closet to decide what to wear for your day off.

Steven was waiting for you on your bed, perched on the edge.

"Morning, my love," he hummed cheerily, his eyes raking down your body appreciatively. "See you've got on those nice satin pajamas I gave you."

Glancing down at yourself, you softly smiled. "Indeed."

"You're so bloody lovely," he breathed, eyes darkening as he reached out his hand to beckon you back to bed.

Feeling absolutely adored and a little frisky, you skittered over, ready to pounce, when he held up two hands to stop you.

"Careful, darling, I've made you breakfast. Or brunch, rather. It's eleven o'clock," he laughed, nodding toward the tray sitting in the middle of the bed.

Eyes wide, you beamed - but it didn't stop you from climbing onto his lap, just...carefully.

"You are an angel." Locking your arms behind his neck, you dragged your hips forward until you were flush against his body. Rubbing your nose against his, you giggled as he chased after your lips.

"Feeling cheeky this morning, are we?" he tutted after trying and failing to kiss you a few times. "Come here, you." Gently gripping your face in one hand, he opened his mouth hotly over yours. Sucking your lips one at a time, he teased you right back, easing one strong arm around your back. His forearm flexed, holding you firmly as he thrust up against you.

"Steven," you gasped, shifting in his lap to feel him just where you wanted him. Licking into his mouth, you pushed your fingers into his curls, tugging just hard enough for him to jerk deliciously against you again.

The two of you went on that way until he laid back on the bed, pulling you on top of him.

"Steven, Steven, wait--"

Too late. The tray carrying your breakfast spilled all over the bed, some of the jam-covered toast landing on Steven's adorably oversized sleeve.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Scurrying off the bed, you rapidly gathered up the mess, hands bumping into Steven's as he struggled to help you.

"Thank goodness I've left the tea on the table then, yeah?"

You burst out laughing.

You and Steven cleaned up the bed, finished breakfast (at the table) and dressed in cozy clothes for a day off together. Steven decided missing one class wouldn't hurt anything, since he had high marks in every course.

"Thank you for taking care of me this morning, my love," you sighed contentedly, draping your legs across his lap as you relaxed on the couch. "I noticed you pulled the drapes closed so I could sleep in."

"Oh...must've been Marc, I s'ppose," he mused, rubbing up and down your leg. "Wasn't me."

"Oh, okay. But it was you that cleaned up the broken bottle the other morning, right? Before I woke up and made breakfast for Marc?"

Steven's head whipped around so fast. "Sorry, what? Marc broke a bottle? Darling--"

"It wasn't like that, I promise. It was an accident," you soothed. Reaching for his hand, you squeezed it gently, forgetting, in that moment, who could have cleaned up the bottle.

"Everything's a bit odd lately, innit?" He spoke up after a few moments. "Khonshu scaring the life out of Marc like that, deceivin' us both. Bloody stupid pigeon."

"I'm sorry, baby." You felt a shade guilty having talked to Jake twice when Marc and Steven had yet to even meet him.

"Not your fault, love. The old bird's the one to blame. Him and this other mysterious bloke I've got up here." He tapped one finger to his forehead.

"Jake, you mean." You eyed him cautiously. Feeling like you hadn't seen Steven as much for the past few days, you felt the need to confess - catch him up. "I talked to him again last night. Did Marc tell you we'd met?"

Dark eyes cut over to yours - unreadable - a rarity in your warm and open Steven. "Didn't have to. Spoke to him myself."

You gasped a little dramatically. "Y-you talked to Jake? He talked to you?"

"A bit, yeah," Steven sighed. "A bit. Might have told us we were still entangled with Khonshu so Marc didn't have to wake up in an alley like that. It's no bloody wonder he's had a rough go of it."

Gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, you inched a little closer to him on the couch. "So...you're angry with him then. With Jake."

Shaking his head, Steven's gaze dropped. "He's got his own life I s'ppose. Rather used to the way things are with Marc, is all."

"Must be hard, sweetheart," you sweetly sympathized, wishing you could fix any and everything for these men you loved.

"Not your fault," he softly repeated, reaching up to caress your cheek. "He does seem a bit taken with you, though."

Oh god.

"R-really," you squeaked. "Jake said that?"

"Not exactly, but...I gathered," Steven mused, his fingers trailing down over your throat to rest along your collarbone, which he traced carefully. "Made me wonder if you'd worn that lovely satin for him, if I'm honest."

You gulped. "Well...not for him, exactly. I did want to talk to him in a little more than Marc's t-shirt. I want answers too."

The corner of his mouth turned slightly upward, reminding you of Jake. "You're a vision in anything, darling - bare legs and t-shirt, or black satin. I certainly understand why he fancies you."

You skin heated up as you tried to decide how to respond.

And just like Jake the previous night, Steven seemed to enjoy you flustered like this. Giving you a devilish smile, he trailed his fingers down your arm.

"Steven...you're my fiancé," you finally managed, a little breathless. "Jake and I have only spoken twice. It will take a little more than crawling in the window at night to get to know one another."

Nodding, Steven asked, "But you would...like to get to know him?"

"Of course I would," you instantly answered, as if it were obvious. "Of course I want to know someone in our lives like this - part of you and Marc, and...honestly, someone who has you all out at night doing god knows what."

Reaching for your fiancé, you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Besides, I doubt Jake said he fancies me," you chuckled. "Doesn't really sound like him."

"Ohhh, it doesn't, does it?" Steven laughed out. Studying you closely, he added, "Would you like to know what he really said? 'Bout you?"

Spellbound, you nodded as Steven leaned in close. "I'm not going to tell you. That's between you two. But I will tell you what I think, if you care to know."

Climbing across his lap, you touched your forehead to his. "As long as it's something good, baby."

"Oh it is," he breathed against your mouth.

He never told you. But you did finish what you'd started in the bedroom.

After all the recent late night activities, plus a vigorous couple of rounds in bed with Steven, your sated bodies drifted off to sleep...

...which inevitably led to you waking up from your nap, wondering who would be greeting you. The flat was quiet and you were alone.

Feeling a little more relaxed and rested than you had felt in days, you found the clothes Steven had yanked off your body just a couple hours before. You didn't want to waste one more second of your shared day off by sleeping.

After checking the bathroom and the living room, you finally found a note in the kitchen from Marc.

On the roof. - M

Finding some shoes and Marc's tan hoodie, you grabbed your phone, realizing Marc had sent you the same message via text, just in case.

A few minutes later, you made your way out to enjoy the chilly but decently sunny day. A rare treat indeed.

"Hey there," you sweetly greeted, walking up beside Marc, purposely bumping your shoulder against his. "Where's your jacket? It's cold."

He glanced over at you, smirking. "You're wearing the one I like. Looks better on you anyway."

Even though Marc was a little taller than you were, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders as if it might warm him up.

"What are you doing?" He chuckled, already a bit cheered up by your presence.

"I'm protecting you. Like I said, it's cold."

Glancing down at you, he shook his head, amused, while his heart flared with adoration. You were always taking care of him in one way or another. He could never deserve you.

"Come here," he whispered, pulling you into his arms, folding you close. "There, now I'm warm."

"Good," you returned, nuzzling into his neck.

He held you in silence for a few minutes, rubbing up and down your back lovingly.

From what little you knew of Jake, you were fairly certain that Marc was the quietest of his alters. It was nice sometimes, to just be together in contented stillness.

But unlike Jake, there was no one in the world you knew better than Marc. And he was neither content, nor prone to remain still for much longer. Itching to prod about what troubled him, you waited longer still. You had learned to wait him out and he had learned to trust you...confide in you.

"I, uh..." he cleared his throat, breaking the silence after a while. "I came up here because I was thinking about...having a drink."

Oh.

Releasing you, as you knew he would after an admission like that, he folded his well defined arms over his chest. "Sorry." He stared out over the city, wondering what you would think of him - of how he kept letting you down.

Matching his pose, you gave him just enough space to confess, while keeping close enough to ground him.

"Sorry for what?"

Huffing out an irritable sigh, he frowned. "You know what. Sorry for wanting to. For...fucking everything up, for letting you down."

"I see," you softly returned. "Is that all?"

Turning his head, he started at you. "Is that not enough? You need a longer list?"

"No," you shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on the cityscape. "Just asking if there's anything else you're trying to punish yourself for today."

"There's a never-ending, extremely long fucking list," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Where do I even begin?"

Turning your body to face him, you waited a moment for him to calm down. "How about we start with what brought you up here today? Did something happen? Did you talk to Steven? Or Jake? Or maybe Addiction is just being the annoying bitch that Addiction is?"

You could see that he was already relieved to have you facing him, engaging with him. Marc could fight with the empty, thin air if he wanted to, because the person he fought hardest with was himself.

"I did...talk to Jake," he finally confessed, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "He, uh...he actually apologized...for what happened in the alley, with Khonshu."

"Okay," you slowly nodded, your heart rate doubling at the thought of Marc and Jake interacting. "And how did that make you feel?"

"Like an idiot," he huffed, pushing a hand through his hair. "I should have known that Khonshu would never leave us alone." His hands landed on his hips - a trademark Marc-is-annoyed stance. "I should have known it wasn't safe, especially for you."

"What does that mean?" you hesitantly questioned. Surely he didn't mean he was unsafe for you, or Jake was... You started to worry for just a moment, that he would try to do one of those stupid 'you're safer without me' speeches that superheroes were always doing in films.

Like hell. Khonshu could shove his bony beak right up his bony ass. He was not fucking with your engagement, or your life.

Seeing your distress, Marc reached for your shoulders. "Jake saved your life last week," he explained. "Someone was following you home from work."

"He...what?" You gasped. "Who? Jake told you this?"

"Don't know who," Marc replied, his jaw clenching in fury at the thought of anyone even noticing you, let alone trying to stalk you. And to think he had no idea - no inkling that you were in danger... it was unbearable. "Doesn't matter. He's gone now. I just can't believe I let that happen to you and I didn't even realize..."

Releasing you, he paced a few steps away, and back again. Back and forth, punishing himself. For not perceiving that danger still followed him around - followed you. For not being the one to save you. For not recognizing someone else was in his mind, in their body. For being the absolute most useless and pointless of his alters. For all these things compiling and making him want to drown it all at the bottom of a bottle. For being a worthless alcoholic. For being like her...

Marc was the walking embodiment of the phrase, 'that escalated quickly...'

You knew it was bad once he stopped pacing and dug the heels of his hands into his forehead. Steven would probably be joining you momentarily. Or maybe Jake.

"Marc?" You softly called, gently reaching for his wrists to stop him hitting himself in the head. You didn't pull or try to halt his motion, you simply allowed your fingers to circle his wrists. As soon as he realized that his banging motion was jerking your arms too, he stopped, allowing you to hold onto his wrists, rubbing your thumbs carefully over his skin.

"There you are," you soothed, granting him the most gentle smile and pulling his hands down to his chest. "I think you kept this conversation going without me. Probably started telling yourself a whole lot of bullshit...does that sound about right?"

Sometimes you would undercut the most dramatic of his meltdowns with deceptively gentle sarcasm. It always seemed to disarm Marc - your comments showed him your tenderheartedness rather than your slight teasing feeling like mockery. You truly had a gift for it.

You didn't wait for his verbal answer. His silence was compliance. You kept hold of his wrists, there against his chest, and tried to fill in the blanks.

"I'm guessing you're blaming yourself for not knowing everything that's ever going to happen, for not predicting the future, for not knowing every corner of your mind, and for being afflicted with an addiction. Am I close?"

His jaw clenched, this time in anguish, rather than fury.

"You don't...you don't have to do this," he choked, avoiding your gaze. "You shouldn't have to do this."

"Like I hell I shouldn't," you shot back. "I marrying you in 52 days. And on that day, I'm going to vow to love you for better or for worse, in sickness and in health - you know the rest. This is exactly what I should be doing."

"I'm sorry," he brokenly whispered. "I'm sorry I'm like this. I hate it. I hate..."

"What are you like, sweetheart? How is it that you think you should be?"

Marc shook his head, his eyebrows pinched with worry. "I-I don't even have a job or go to school, or always make you smile or feel better, like Steven. I can't even protect you, like Jake. I have nothing to give you. I can't think of one reason to even--"

"Don't you dare," you warned. "Don't you dare compare yourself to them - they are a part of you." Releasing a shaky sigh, you realized then how bad things must have gotten for Marc before he ever even picked up a bottle.

This was deeper than one encounter with Khonshu. He was calling his whole self-worth into question, comparing himself to Steven and now Jake. He hadn't failed you. Maybe you had failed him.

"Look, I don't claim to be any kind of an expert on addiction or DID or marriage," you explained to him. "I only know what I know. When Jake saved my life, you were there. You are a part of him. And-and Steven - his amazing mind is your mind too. This addiction you have - they all have it! I understand you are distinct people, and I respect that. And I don't pretend to know what you're going through or what it feels like to be you, but baby..."

Squeezing his hands, you peered up at him pleadingly. "You were my first love. I knew you first. I loved you first. You are the reason I'm here. And Steven. And Jake. We all love you, Marc and we need you. We're with you. Who else is going to help Steven remember to do his homework? Or make my coffee the way I like it? Or fix the sink every time it leaks?

"Who is going to make me feel like the most special person in the world, make me laugh, make me the best toast for breakfast--"

"Uh, that would be Steven," Marc admitted, his voice softening. "Steven does those things for you."

Thinking back through what you'd just said, you nodded. "True. He does make better toast than you but his coffee-making skills are shit."

Marc cracked a smile. Just a tiny one.

"And you do make me laugh. And make me feel special. Why do you think Steven is the only one who does that?"

"Because...I don't know, because he's so good at it," Marc shrugged, calming down a little more. Your candor was somehow soothing because he never had to wonder where he stood with you.

"Baby, where do you think he gets that from?" You stared at him pointedly, waiting for him to get it. "How many years did you try to protect him, to keep him safe?"

"Yeah, but I fucked that up too," he argued. "He was pissed when he found out about me, remember I told you that."

"Only a first," you reminded him. "But since then, you're literally his best friend. You keep him grounded. And I know it's true for Jake too. You're his moral center."

"Really," Marc scoffed, "then he's fucked."

You rolled your eyes. "You are. From what little I know of Jake, he doesn't seem all that bothered by violence... by doing whatever he feels he needs to do, for you or for Khonshu. Don't you see?"

Marc shook his head.

"When you have to use violence, you hate it, because it was used on you. You've agonized over the lives you've taken, because you value life. What is more morally centered than that?"

Finally releasing your hands, Marc rubbed his face with a long sigh. "I told myself I wasn't going to do this to you. That I was just going to go to a meeting and talk to you after. But...but I thought if I left to go to a meeting that I might stop by the store and there would be a drink, you know, just waiting..."

His hands found their way back to his hips. "What do I do?" He gazed at you as if everything in the world hanged on your answer.

"This," you said confidently. "You take a beat...take a breath, talk to me. Exactly this, baby. Everything you need to be doing, you are doing right now: admitting you're tempted to drink, stopping and thinking first, going to meetings..."

You counted his victories off on your fingers, "Using your support systems, being honest about your feelings, even the really fucking hard ones. This is exactly what you do, Marc. You are literally my hero."

Completely taken aback, his lip trembled. "W-what? No...I-I'm not."

Folding your arms over your chest, you narrowed your eyes, waiting a beat.

"You're not? Shit. I must have been thinking of someone else then." Cracking a grin, you inched toward him slowly. "You're so damn stubborn, Marc Spector, but you have met your match. Game fucking on."

Reaching for his wrists, still planted defiantly on his hips, you pulled his hands into yours. "Now, is there anything I can do to make you feel better today? I could walk you to your meeting? Or fix you some matzah ball soup? I've been practicinggg," you sang, a little playfully.

Sometimes acting like a dork really cheered up your grumpy fiancé. Maybe it would work.

"Please, god no," Marc laughed out, "it was more like matzah meal sludge. I think I could have built a sandcastle with it."

Giggling, you released his hands, sliding your arms around his torso. "Okay, fair enough. Maybe we'll do something else then."

"Yeah, like what?" He shot back, some of the tension finally draining out of his tense body as he wrapped his arms around your back.

"How about a massage?" You suggested. "You love it when I play with your hair. You could lie down on my lap, relax..."

"You're just trying to get my head between your legs, aren't you?" Marc chuckled, narrowing his eyes.

You smiled innocently up at him. "Always."

"Come on, it's freezing out here," he laughed, guiding you back toward the doorway with his arm around your shoulders.

"Still feel like a drink?" You asked, your candor never ceasing to amaze him.

"Only if you make me eat your matzah ball soup," he teased.

Just him joking was a good thing. And he probably would have you walk him to a meeting later in the day. One step at a time.

"You're really doing it, you know? I'm really proud of you," you sweetly affirmed as the two of you made your way back down to your flat.

"Thank you," Marc evenly answered, after a long silence. He hadn't really been sure how to reply until the two of you were back inside your living room. "For everything."

"One day at a time, my love. Today, you're doing it. You're doing everything right."

Wondering what he would ever do without you, Marc pulled you close, gently swaying with you in the silence of your flat. He had always felt so hard to love - his childhood had made sure of that. But you loved him hard.

@stormydaysxx laaundromat @kindlover @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal

@rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face 

idk if all the tags work. I tried!

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Another sagau reader hearing someone insulting characters and going apeshit but when someone insults reader are like "......hmm shodul I drink hot chocolate or tea today?" This time ganyu( becose I still pissed at one guy who insulted her i her own story quest) bennet and nilou (another chance to make azar feel terror)

COMING RIGHT UP, ANON. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING OMG 💀 I have been too dead without these requests, fr.

Click Me For Part 1!

When Someone Insults Ganyu, Bennett, and Nilou vs When Someone Insults Reader...

(Disclaimers: Might Be OOC, Mentions of Violence, & Quest/Genshin Impact Lore Spoilers!)

Ganyu

Okay, first of all: Yes, I am adding that stupid idiot cough Xin Cheng cough into this.

You were just following the Traveler and Paimon, joining Ganyu's Story Quest which, for some reason, was not completed yet. So, you decided to tag along to see Ganyu!

You weren't hyped when that beggar came out of nowhere and started to do all that fairytale stuff even you don't approve of—and you were someone that sticks themselves into your own head, thank you very much.

So when this man started to gain the audacity to insult Ganyu, you knew you had to step up and do something. No one, and you quite mean it, was going to insult her and get away with it.

"Hey!" You came out from your hiding spot (you're the Almighty Creator, you know it'll make the situation worse). "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, huh?"

Xin Cheng pales at the sight of your enraged figure. He stutters to make an excuse, but you cut him off. You're having none of it.

"Get your useless self out of here, before I decide to kick it down the mountains myself!"

To say that Ganyu was shocked that you were getting angry over a mortal was an understatement. She was beyond surprised that you even stood up for her.

But she did have to intervene with your threatening—after all, she is still an Adeptus. Protecting the people of Liyue was still her duty.

"Your Grace...Please let him go. I'm sure he already understands his mistake." Ganyu's soft voice only made your anger increase—she sounded so upset!

"Y-yes, please, Your Grace! I understand what I've done wrong, I—"

"Silence." You glare down at the mortal. Your turn back to Ganyu, and considered your choices. While you wanted to wreck absolute vengeance on this man, you also didn't want to hurt Ganyu's feelings more.

Guess you were going down Trauma Lane, then. You sigh, and stomp your feet as you turn around to glare at Xin Cheng, catching his petite form by surprise.

"If I ever see you do this again..." Your eyes narrow. "Believe me when I say it—you will be granted no mercy by any adeptus nor Rex Lapis himself. Now SCRAM!" With that, he was running for the hills. You weren't entirely satisfied, but you'll take it. For now.

What would Happen if Ganyu heard you get insulted? Well, first of all, she would gasp quietly to herself. What was this blasphemy? She's utterly horrified.

Ganyu thinks she might faint once she realizes you were nearby, checking out vendor goods next to where the gossipers were spilling terrible insults of your image.

"Y-Your Grace! Please accept my apology on behalf of the people of Liyue." Will literally run up to you and apologize for them. While she may not be the one who did it, she's still cares about the People of Liyue—and thus her reasoning as to why she's askign for the mercy of the Almighty Creator.

Your puzzled look turns to Ganyu. "Who are you apologizing for?" Ganyu blinks.

"The, uhm—the gossipers..?" You're still confused, until your eyes shine once recognition hits you like Truck-Kun.

"Ohhh, those dudes! Yeah, don't worry about them—they're pretty boring, saying the same thing like a broken record. Say—wanna shop with me? I'm paying, of course."

And that's how you got Ganyu to be more comfortable around you! :D

Bennett

Ah, our unlucky yet optimistic adventurer! This boy—he is good. He's cool, and he's rather awed by most of the kids in Mondstadt.

He was hanging out with Razor and Fischl when someone decides to insult him. this genuinely upsets him—after all, they were insulting his ability and his position in the Adventurer's Guild...

Already, Razor and Fischl were already up to defend him, but what they didn't expect is for the Almighty Creator (aka you) got to it first.

"I beg your pardon," you say through gritted teeth. "How exactly is having a bad luck aura got to do with ANYTHING related to being an adventurer?" You're glaring so many daggers you could practically say you were breaking all the walls. "Perhaps we'll see just how lucky you are when I send you to Dragon Spine and watch your dead corpses FREEZE TO DEATH?"

The insulters were paling the more you went on. Razor and Fischl aren't sure what to do—you're already there, dealing with the situation.

But Bennett? Well uh, like usual, his bad luck got the best of him, and he accidentally stumbles towards you (miraculously). He bumps into you, and you shift your gaze onto him.

"Uh—Sorry, Your Grace! I really didn't mean to bump into you, I swear!" Poor guy is scared because his bad luck affected him at the worst time of all. He thinks he might get killed.

You though? Oh, hell nah. Your gaze already soften, and you decided to show favoritism! You pull the boy into a hug, glaring at the insulters one more time as a warning to scram, before you go back to enjoying giving the boy affection!

But when Bennett hears you get insulted? Well, first of all, screw his bad luck because the insulters were quite literally telling him how bad of a Creator you were!

He immediately tries to avoid getting too deep into the discussion, trying to sway the topic elsewhere to no avail, and he pales when he realizes you were literally a few steps away from them!

And it seems his bad luck gets in the way again, because you just turned right as he was staring at you with shocked eyes!

However, instead of being mad, you were actually beaming when you see him. You wave at Bennett, smiling.

"Bennett! Help me choose some flowers, yeah?"

"Uhm—uh, Sure, Your Grace!"

And that's how the insulters were hiding in their homes for the rest of their lives as you merrily dragged Bennett out of that horrendous conversation.

Nilou

Honestly, do I need to say who decided to insult this amazing dancer?

Yes, it was fricking Azar again. What is up with this crazy old man, nobody knows. Perhaps you should put him in prison for a while until he's gained a sense of appreciation for the Arts. ALL of the Arts.

Apparently, when you had drilled fear into this man, he thought it only applied to flipping Nahida. As much as you love Nahida, you are not going to have Azar twists your words and make it seem like you grant him permission to snark down other people—especially the people of Zubayr Theater.

So when Azar finally decides to have scholars gain the nerve to insult Nilou on behalf of his stupid brain, you (of course) just had to get yourself involved with this.

"Excuse me, but since when did you have the audacity to judge someone else's profession of art, simply because it isn't 'academic' in any way?" You spat. "Where I come from, Art courses are necessary in order to move on in your academic life." When Nilou hears you, she, first of all, is grateful of you stepping up for her, and, second of all, very scared of what might be happening next.

The scholars pale, but they seem to have taken your comment as a debate.

"With all due respect, Your Grace, the Arts are anything but educational—"

"Was I looking for a second opinion, dimwit?" You narrow your eyes. "Besides, have you yourself ever tried the Art of Dancing or the Art of Music before?"

"Well—uhm, no, but—"

"Then shut up, then." The scholars begin to panic as your voice becomes low and dangerous. "You don't have an excuse to be judgmental if you haven't even tried this stuff yourself."

"Ex-Sage Azar told us to say this!" They blurt out, and that only increases your rage. Seeing that things might escalate, Nilou steps in.

"Your Grace, let's not be too harsh!" She exclaims, waving her hands frantically. "I'm sure they understand what they did wrong. There's no need to have them punished." You narrowed your eyes in disagreement, for a half second, Nilou thought she made the situation worse.

But when you sigh heavily, she knew you relented. You glare at the scholars again.

"Tell Azar if he does this again, to ANYONE, I'll cut his head off, and there's no more excuses there. In fact—bring me to him. I'll have a talk with him myself."

Yeah, Azar got traumatized again :)

But when Nilou hears you be insulted? Quite literally behind your back? She thought she was going to faint from the gossiper's comments alone! You being there to listen it to it all only made her feel worse.

She was about to confront them, until she saw other people nearby dealing with the situation. So, Nilou decides to check up and see if you were okay...After all, those comments weren't nice.

She was pretty shocked when she realized you were contemplating over wares instead, completely unbothered by the drama going on behind your back. Nevertheless, she was still going to apologize in case you were just hiding your emotions.

"Uhm, Your Grace—I would like to apologize on behalf of all of Zubayr Theater. We should've done something earlier." You look at her, confused.

"What are you apologizing for, Nilou?" You ask. She blinks.

"Uhm, the gossipers, Your Grace..?" Your eyes widen, before you bark a laugh.

"Oh, those dudes! Yeah—don't worry about them, honestly. Say—help me pick: should I get hot chocolate or tea from this lovely store?"

Let's just say you had a fun time hanging out with Nilou for the rest of the afternoon :)

AND THAT'S IT! WE ARE DONE! I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE AND TAKING 30+ YEARS TO FINISH THIS, BUT IT'S HERE! :D I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: To anyone who's waiting for The Lost Shining God of Celestia, yes I have been writing on it. However, due to personal life problems and other IRL circumstances, it's taking a little longer than expected. I am sorry, everyone!

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