#had been left in the house for like 5 days at that point with nobody to check on them and nobody else seemed to want to do anything

[bet-on-me-13]

The Fentonworks Mega-Lab.

So! AU where the Fentonworks Labs actually stretch Miles upon Miles below the City of Amity Park.

It started when the Fentons wanted to add a simple addition to the original Lab when they ran out of space to store their more dangerous weapons. They didn't want their (at the time) young children getting their hands on their experimental Weaponry, it could blow up in their faces!

So they built a different Wing of the Lab to hold all those Inventions.

Then they ran out of space and added a few extra Storage Rooms. But then they decided it was a hassle to have to carefully transport their Dangerous Inventions all the way to the Storage Rooms, and built a Lab specifically for Dangerous Experiments near that same Section. Then that Lab was occupied for a while, and Jack wanted to start a different experiment as well, so they built a few more.

In the end they just never stopped building onto their Labs.

There are sections of the Mega-Lab that are entirely walled off because a few of their more unstable Experiments contaminated the area. Walking into them was not recommended, else you could walk out with an extra eye or 5.

In other sections, their Captured Ghosts had taken over a few Labs and created a sort of Mad Max style civilization using their discarded weapons and vehicles.

In another, all Ghosts became Humans and all Humans became Ghosts. That was a weird one, to this day they still didn't understand how they pulled that off.

In another, some type of Eldritch Time Ghost had been born, and now sort of always existed and never existed, and began experimenting with its powers. They nicknamed it Clocky because it liked to carry around a stopwatch.

And so many more. At one point a failed Portal Experiment messed with the internal Space of the entire thing. Now there was literally no way of Mapping it. The Fentons still somehow managed to navigate it perfectly.

When Jazz and Danny grew up, they too learned how to navigate the Labs, which is how Danny managed to show his friends the Portal Experimentation Wing in the first place.

Unfortunately, it wasn't safe for anyone aside from the Fentons to enter the Mega-Labs, so one day when the Fenton Family+friends left town on a Week Long Camping/Road Trip, they put up a few Ghost Shields to keep both Humans out and the Ghosts in.

This drew some unwanted attention after some tourists saw the giant Glowng Green Building in the middle of an Illinois Town, and rightfully called the Justice League.

Now, the Justice League had tried to call the owners of the house, but nobody picked up the phone. (An incident with Jack and a Canoe had knocked most of their phones into the lake. They weren't even at the lake yet.)

When nobody picked up, they decided to investigate personally.

After getting into the House, they quickly found a door labeled "Labs: Do Not Enter (unless it we are late for Dinner)" and went into ignoring all the warnings.

They quickly regretted it.

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[forestshadow-wolf]

Soap leading a team into a known structurally unsound building, but they have to check it because of orders from brass, and while he didn't have to go on the OP, he is the most qualified to lead it, and he could never just not go when his skills could potentially save lives.

Ghost had tried to go in his stead because he had tweaked his knee the day prior, and it still ached. But soap could do this kind of work in his sleeps... omay probably not, but Ghost doesn't know how to tell which hairline fractures cut all the way through, and which don't, and which could if given too much weight. There are calculations and variables to estimate how much a floor can hold, but none of those matter to spotting and weakspots.

It's been a while since Soap has had to lead a team, being on a specialized task force, but he falls back into it like riding a bike.

Now the problem lies, not with non-load bearing supports but, with the overconfident grunts. They think just because this step, that one, and the one before were safe, that the next will be too.

And not to say that Soap always knows when or if the wall or floor or ceiling will or won't hold, just that he knows how to test a floor or a wall, he knows where to hold his weight, he knows that one collapse can lead to so many others. And that's all just based on in-field experience. Not to even bring up the weeks of training and education he had to work through to be able to identify external weak points when dealing with structural damage; one of the first things you're taught when you specialize in demolitions is how to do it safely.

But no no ignore the officer, that maybe, a little bit knows what he was doing. Yeah go on ahead of him. Oh hey, yeah, that's a good idea, keep stomping around.

The building, little more than a 3-story house, breaths and groans around them like a wounded animal. It puts him on edge just like every other time. Wounds like to get worse if they aren't babied. And they definitely are not babying this one.

And given all the variables it wasn't all too surprising hear the smallest groan to his left, more feeling than hearing it, that sounded just a little too hollow.

"Stop! Don't move," He barked, like it was a matter of life and death, because it was, "who did that? Who just moved." All the soldiers frozen to the spot as he stared at each one, an intensity in his gaze even he could feel, trying to pinpoint where the weakness was.

Fidgeting and nervous weigh shifting, another whimper. Like yanking on a rope his attention to the boot of a reckless soldier. It was instinct alone that he saw his own hand pushing the grunt off the spot.

But a misstep on his part, a pained cry of wood and plaster.

The drop wasn't the furthest, neither the shortest, 5 maybe 6 meters. He landed on his kit. Debris followed him down, landing on his already aching knee. None too heavy, but none too light, and gravity had it's playtime.

It knocked every bit of air from his lungs, and at first he thought he collapsed a lung. Half a minute later it was clear to be false. But a shit ton of bruising, and maybe a cracked rib or two neither felt good.

He pawed at his radio, still fighting for air.

"Watcher," he wheezed

"Send traffic, 7-1" that was Ghost's voice

He was still gasping for air and it took him longer than he liked to signal for one of the grunts to relay the OP was worthless. Not worth the risk.

"Copy. Soap, how copy?" Ghost sounded calm if only a little lower in worry, hand to tell if nobody was listening. Soap couldn't muster the energy to both hold his head up and respond (he could, but it was a lot of work, so he didn't)

"Need, ice. And new lungs." He said out of breath. His knee throbbed, and no doubt it would be even angrier in the coming hours.

"Your knee?"

"Mh, fucked." He breathed, rallying to pick himself up. "Heading for exfil."

One of the grunts came to help him to his feet. "Copy."

His knee only protested more the way to exfil. And it squeezed like a vice so tight he could barely walk by they time they touched back on base. If he couldn't see, he'd almost think it fell right off with the pressure. And yet there it was still, didn't even look swollen under his loose pantleg.

Ghost was waiting for him when he hobbled his way out, and gear heavy oh his joints, sore to hell and back, but alive.

"We need to get that looked at," Ghost took him under the shoulder to take some of his weight, and he reached for the gear in soap's hand. We. Not you. Like it was his injury too. We. Like it hadn't even crossed his mind for soap to go alone.

"Ice tonight, doc tomorrow." He sighed, too tired and sore and bruised to even think about all the shit that would entail. He was tired, and hurt, and his leg was gonna fall off. And Ghost looked like he wanted to argue, but he just nodded because they both knew what it was like when all you wanted to do was play like the dead and do nothing else for 12 hours.

"Doc tomorrow." He spoke like he was reminding soap while he opened Soap door, with key that soap gave him, like it was his room and not soap's.

"Tomorrow." Soap agreed, sitting gingerly on his bed. Ghost turned, grabbing ice for him. Buttons and clips and velcros undid as soap pulled at them. Dusty, sweaty, dirty shirt and jeans went into a pile too. And he clipped his leg brace around his knee, and pulled the straps tight.

He doesn't even remember laying down, but he was asleep before Ghost even got back with the ice

[hazel-tanthamore22]

~Cuddles and Kisses~

Sypnosis: Valentines day in the kats house couldn't have been any better, that is until there's a very much unneeded interpretation.

Yoonchae x katseye!7thmember!fem!reader

A/n: not proofread and make at the Crack of dawn bare with me

Waking up to silence and peace is something you could never get accustomed to. From the yelling of Dani and Manon to Megan and Lara belting a random song, peace and quiet is a rare occurrence in the dorms.

Today was one of the days where the elder members had schedules, so that left you and Yoonchae alone at the dorms, enjoying the silence and each other presence.

You get up, stretching as you exit you and Sophia's room to the living room, spotting Yoonchae on the couch. She immediately beams with a smile and her usual brightness as you walk towards her on the couch.

You plop next to her on the couch, immediately cuddling up to her side. This was also a rare semblance of privacy and alone time between you two, since the other 5 didn't know you two were together, and you'd like to keep it like that for a while.

"Morning" Yoonchae mumbles into your hair as you bury your face in her neck. "Morning, happy Valentines day my love" you reply, voice a bit muffled due to being almost against the shorter girls neck. "Happy valentines" she also says.

"Do the others have a schedule or it's something else?" You ask, looking up at her as you pull back but keep your chin on her shoulder. "They went shopping" The shorter girl replies, as she looks down at you, eyes raking over you face with the loving sparkle they've had since you two met.

Her lips catch yours in a swift peck before turning away, trying to stop you from doing the same. You immediately pounce up, tossing and turning with her until you have her beneath you on the couch, catching her lips in a slow loving kiss.

You didn't know or care when tye members left, you probably should've but you didn't as you and Yoonchae stay in that position, lips only ever leaving each other's for breath in between.

So caught up in the moment you both don't realize the door of the dorms open until you hear the familiar voice of a very shocked Filipina leader "What the hell is going on?"

You immediately scurried off Yoonchae, cheeks heating up as you put some distance between you two as you both tried to not meet the eyes of your seven older members.

Nobody spoke, the silence tense and uncomfortable as you and Yoonchae avoided each other's, as well as everyone else's eyes, while the other 5 just looked between you two with Jaws dropped in surprise and confusion.

"Since when" Lara asked, finger pointing between you and Yoonchae. Silence again until Yoonchae took initiative. "A few months after debuting" she mumbled. "That long?" "Damn!" Manon and Dani spoke over each other. Megan just stood shocked, not knowing how to react and Sophia, being the ever perceptive, yet blunt, one spoke up again.

"It better have been only that and not s-"I immediately cut her off "It was" I almost scream, absolutely horrified and embarrassed. "Well what do you want me to expect, you're both teenagers, it's normal" she quips as they finally break from their trance and enter the dorm fully, putting their bags and stuff on the counter.

I grimace at her words, and Megan, who's been uncharacteristically quiet speaks up. "Why have you guys been hiding it for so long?" We all look at her. "We were nervous about how you guys would react" I reply as Yoonchaes lips press into a line.

"Theres nothing to worry about, we'll support you guys no matter what." Sophia responds with that usual motherly tone and smile. An onslaught of agreement comes from the others as they settle down around the living room. "But I will be monitoring you guys more now just so you know." Sophia follows up as she sits between us.

There's a burst of laughter in the room. The day goes about normally, minus Sophia checking on you and Yoonchae once in a while to make sure nothing "funny" is happening.

Night falls and there's silence in the dorm as the others are asleep and you and Yoonchae cuddle in your bed. Today's has been the best Valentines ever, coming out to the others (more rather than finding out), being able to be affectionate around them, and now ending the day in bed with Cuddles and a few light kisses.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eleven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Angst.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: This one takes a bit of a turn guys, but I promise I know what I'm doing. :) Maybe? Probably?

Previously:

Suddenly your phone rings, shattering the still silence in your apartment. For a second you hope that it's Butcher returning your call, but when you answer, it's not Butcher.

"Hello?"

"I need you." The familiar voice says.

Shit.

Present Day

“Thank you so much for coming!” Rosemary says dragging you through the front door of her two-bedroom apartment. “The sitter cancelled and I’ve got 5 minutes to make it to the hospital.”

Her dark brown hair frizzes out of a messy bun at the back of her head waving as she emphasizes her point with rapid hand gestures. The dusting of freckles across her cheeks catches in the light from the open windows at the back of her apartment as she traverses through the minefield of toys and children's books sprawled over the bright blue couches, the pastel rug, and the coffee table in the spacious living room.

As heartbroken as you were, you never regretted the night you and Ben spent together, because that meant you wouldn't have had Rosemary and you didn't want to imagine a world without her in it. She was the only good that came from that night. A surprise, but a welcome one. The years that followed losing Ben should have been empty, filled with an endless wandering of the world from someone who couldn’t age and couldn’t die, but they weren’t. Ben might have broken your heart, but he gave you the greatest gift. Rosemary filled the hole in your life and you wouldn’t change a thing. Even if it always ended up like this.

Well, besides the whole Ben possibly being alive this whole time and being tortured in a foreign country.

Rosemary was another reason why you had gotten out of being a supe. You didn't want that life for her and you were afraid that Vought would take her away. She was a second generation supe from two of the first and two of the most powerful supes. So for the early years of her life you lived on the coast of Maine in a small town, making sure that Rosemary had as normal a life as she could, despite having superpowers. At first you thought that she was like Ben, she was strong, faster than the average person, and had enhanced senses, but then you realized that her powers were more like yours except Rosemary did not have to die to obtain the powers of another supe. Rosemary could replicate any ability from a supe that she touched for one day, something you both realized when she was two and started to move things telekinetically around the house after she grabbed on to your arm and wouldn't let go. Which may have been fun for her, but not for you. Chasing around a two year old that could suddenly levitate sharp objects and throw them anywhere she wished was far from your idea of a good time.

When you moved back to NYC 10 years ago, the last time you saw Legend, you decided to introduce Rosemary as your cousin whenever anyone asked, including Stan Edgar, who showed up to one of your art shows as soon as you reappeared in the city, prepared to find out if you were Indigo.

You examine your daughter’s flustered expression, the wrinkled black scrubs, and the frantic beat of her heart that thuds loudly in your ears. Rosemary looked more like Ben than you. They had the same eyes, the same dark brown hair that turned into liquid honey in the sunlight, but you were the same height and had the same nose, your father's nose to be exact. And although Rosemary should be 39, she looked barely older than 27.

But despite her resemblance to Ben, it didn’t pain you to see her. You liked to think that she was a reminder of the boy you used to know, the one that you held on to for so many years when things got hard and all you saw was Soldier Boy and not the boy you loved.

She was the only person who knew everything about you and everything about Ben. She was the only family you had left, well, except for-

“Aunty y/n!” A small pink blur leaps towards your face from the end of the couch, to latch onto your upper body like a monkey climbing a tree.

You catch your four year old granddaughter, Lou, with a smile, twirling her around in the air.  Despite your relation, you made sure that Lou referred to you as aunt, as afraid as you were for exposing Rosemary to Vought, fear that they would take Lou away too haunted you at night. Rosemary also did not call you mom, except after Lou went to bed and only when she was upset.

You both figured that it was easier this way, at least until Lou was old enough to understand why you did things the way you did them.

Thankfully, Lou still hadn't presented any powers, which made you and Rosemary happy. It made finding a babysitter easier when you didn’t have to worry about a four year old picking up a couch and throwing it through a window.

Being with your family always made you feel better, despite everything that happened with yours, you always remembered what your father ingrained in you as a child- that the only real wealth in life was family.

Of course he also was the son of the man who owned more than half of the real-estate in Philadelphia and who personally invested with Andrew Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller, so he had room to make generalized statements like that.

When you first got the injection and refused to marry Howard it strained the relationship you had with your parents, well, mostly your mother. She hadn't taken it well, thought you were throwing your life away on Ben. Meanwhile your father and you continued to send letters back and forth until the day he died, despite your mother's want for him to cut ties with you. He was always supportive of what you were doing, wanted to know how Ben was, how you were, and would meet you for dinner occasionally in New York whenever he could. Ben would make an appearance every once in a while, but your mother never came, and it was always like a giant purple spotted elephant was sitting at the table beside you.

You wondered how much grief she gave your father whenever he went to see you. You had tried several times to send your mother letters, telling her of all the good you were doing, but she would send them back unopened. When your father died, you showed up to the funeral and she refused to let you sit on the pews reserved for family. Ben had come with you, and you practically had to drag him away when he started to yell back at her because he knew that despite you being all grown up, he knew that you weren’t strong enough to stand up to her.

"Hey Lou." You smile at your granddaughter. She too had Ben's brown hair, but her eyes were like yours that shone with excitement and happiness.

When Rosemary’s husband died just after Lou was born, you stepped in whenever you could to help her, that meant occasionally babysitting so Rosemary could go to work her overnight nursing shifts downtown in the emergency room.

"I missed you!" Lou hugs you around the neck. She's wearing a floral long sleeve shirt and a pair of pink overalls. Pink was her favorite color and you tried not to be reminded of the dresses your mother forced you to wear when you were younger.

"You saw me three days ago." You brush back the tangled mass of curls from her smiling face.

"Too long." Lou replies.

Rosemary breezes back into the room, toting a large bag over her shoulder. "Okay. I'm so sorry-"

"Don't apologize again!" You wave a hand. "Just go. We'll be okay."

"What are you going to do?" She roots through the bag, looking for some unseen object.

"Oh the usual. Watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I've heard great things about the remake-" You wanted to test if she was listening.

"Y/n!"

She passed.

"I'm kidding Rosie." You put your free hand on her shoulder, noticing the wear in her eyes and the dark circles that frame them. You try to remember if things were as hard for you when you were her age. Given that you had already been injected with Compound V and were living as a superhero you figured that they were.

Maybe when everything calms down we can all go for a long vacation somewhere.

"Okay." She sighs. Her eyes search your face for a second, brows pinching together. "Are you okay?"

You always thought her ability to read you was almost supernatural, but Rosemary wasn’t psychic.

"Um. It's been a rough few days." You shrug, adjusting your grip on Lou.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She looks worried.

"Yes. There are a few things we need to talk about. But when you get home. Go on. I can take care of the little gremlin for a few hours."

You didn't like it when she worried about you. Rosie had enough on her shoulders, she didn’t need the 90 plus years of baggage you dragged around everywhere. But what had happened over the past few days deserved a conversation. You were going to go to Russia to find out what happened to Ben and you weren't sure when you would come back or if you could. Going to Russia might mean exposing your identity, which meant you might have to cut and run. You also weren’t sure how much damage had been done after what happened with Countess. When you killed her, you had expected Vought or the police to show up at your door, but you thought that you covered your tracks pretty well. There wasn't a piece of her trailer left and no evidence to convict you, well, aside from the burned jacket in your apartment that you needed to get rid of. You were still hoping that you could salvage it, but it was doubtful.

Your thoughts drift to Rosemary and Lou. The thought of leaving them behind destroyed you, but if it meant keeping them safe from Vought, you knew that you'd have to do it. But you also wondered if you could leave them behind. They were all you had left.

"Okay. I love you." Rosie half-hugs you with her free hand.

"Love you too. Be careful."

"I love you mommy!" Lou crows as Rosemary kisses her on the head and walks out the front door.

"Alright, what do you want to do?" You ask Lou putting her down.

"PAINT!" She raises her hands over her head like a triumphant gladiator.

"I like where your head's at kid." You smile down at her. "Go get your kit, I'll meet you in the kitchen."

When Rosemary gets home twelve hours later, Lou is asleep, but you sit up on the couch with your sketchbook.

Painting with Lou had been enough of a distraction from everything that happened the past few days and the memories of the past that kept rising at the back of your mind, but when she went to bed they started to rush back. The sketchbook had started as a way of escaping the thoughts of what you did to Countess and what she said about you and Ben, but the only thing that you could draw was him. His strong jaw, arching brow, bright green eyes, and mischievous smirk haunted you from the page in front of you.

You hadn't drawn him in over thirty years, hadn't seen him in forty, but you still remembered everything about him, his voice, his laugh, his smile… You had to actively shut off your brain to stop from thinking about him, but none of the usual tricks were working. All you could think about was what if he was alive out there and if the Russians had been torturing him all these years. He was alone.

Did he think that no one cared about him? That no one wanted him?

Yes you hated what he did to you, and as much as you wished that you didn't care, you did. And as much as he hurt you, the Ben you knew would have never left you to rot, he would have come for you and you knew that was what you needed to do for him. The problem now would be telling Rosemary.

Your daughter knew about him. You’d never held anything back when she asked you about her father, including the reason why you two "broke up." In hindsight it was probably not the greatest decision you'd made to tell her exactly what happened, but it was nice to have someone to confide in. And the two of you didn't keep secrets from one another.

"Hey." She whispers with a heavy sigh, collapsing onto the couch beside you. Rosemary drags here eyes around the apartment. "Did you clean?"

"Yeah. It was a bit messy." You smile, shutting the sketchpad so she can't see the page. "Plus I figured it would be nice to be able to sit on the couch without getting probed by one of Lou’s toys."

"Yeah. Don't think I need another little mermaid toy 'exploring' the secrets of the cave, if you know what I mean."

You laugh at her. "How was the shift?"

"Bleh."

"That good?"

"Mhmm." She leans her head against your bicep.

"You know I've been thinking," You put your arm around her shoulders. "Maybe we should all just get away for a few days. We haven't been to the coast in a while. And Lou loves the beach-"

"Don't you have that big show coming up next month?"

"Yeah, but I’ve been feeling a little bit uninspired. I'm thinking about postponing.”

She sits up to look at you, suspicious. "Alright, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong-"

Everything is wrong and I have no idea how to tell you what I need to.

“You have never once postponed a show before.” She raises an eyebrow. "And you’re the worst liar.”

"I’m not lying I am feeling a little bit uninspired.”

"Mom."

"Fine." But you still have no idea how to start the conversation.

How do I tell her that it’s possible her father has been alive this whole time and that he’s currently being held against his will in a Russian Lab? Why is this my life? What did I do to deserve this?

"Is this about Crimson Countess?" Rosemary asks, nudging her shoulder into yours.

"What?" Your head snaps up.

"Her death was on the news. I figured that hearing her name again would make you feel a little-" She moves her head back and forth trying to decide on the word. "Weird."

"It's partly that." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm going out of town for a few days-"

Oh and I killed Crimson Countess.

"Where?"

"I can't tell you?" Your face scrunches up as you say it.

"What?"

You sigh and rise from the couch, pacing in front of it. How do I explain this? How do I tell her?

"Why can't you tell me where you’re going? Is this another retreat for your art again? Like when you went camping?“ She almost sounds hopeful, as if that will make any of this okay.

Nothing is okay.

"A few days ago some men showed up at my apartment looking for me."

"Really? Why?"

"They wanted to know about Ben."

Rosie frowns at the mention of her father’s name. “Why? He's dead. And it's been what? 40 years?" She pulls one of the multicolored pillows into her lap, smoothing her finger over the stripes. The shift in her mood is obvious.

"I don't know. They introduced themselves as government agents and I told them the usual lie about Indigo being my mother and that she was dead. And told them a limited amount of information-"

"I still don't see why you have to leave for a few days?" She interrupts.

You press your lips into a tight line.

This is not going to end well.

Rosemary frowns. “What did you do?”

How can she read me so well? I'm her mother, I should be the one doing the reading!

"Alright, I'm going to say something and you can't freak out." Your hands are clasped in front of your chest tightly, trying to think of a way to tell her that you killed Countess.

"What?"

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"I killed her." You say it slowly, gauging her reaction.

"Who?"

"Crimson Countess. I lost control and I killed her."

"What?" Rosie rises from the couch so quickly you think she's flying. "You killed Crimson Countess?"

"Shhh. You're going to wake Lou. And what happened to the promise-" You look down the darkened hallway where your granddaughter is asleep in her room.

Because that's just what the situation needs, for Lou to find out I'm a murderer.

"Fuck the promise! Why were you even with her?" Rosemary asks you, her eyes are still wide.

"That's why it's complicated-"

"Uncomplicate it now." She puts her hands on her hips looking ridiculously like your mother.

"I went there because I started to think about how Ben died, and I realized that I never heard it from her. I heard it from Legend and from Stan Edgar and I wanted to-“

"So you killed her?"

"She said a lot of things that upset me, but she also told me that-" The words catch in the back of your throat. "That Ben might not be dead."

"He's what?" She shouts.

"Rosemary I'm serious you have to stop shouting. Your neighbors are going to call the cops and that's the last thing I want right now."

"Well obviously because you murdered someone and covered it up!"

"Please get off the high horse. She wasn’t a good person.” You snap before you can stop yourself.

Guess the guilt is gone. Honestly, what guilt?

"Fine." She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. "Go on."

"The Russian army took him. Which means that there's a possibility he's still alive and I need to know." You didn't expect her to understand why you needed to go. You just hoped that she would let you.

"Are you kidding? This guy did terrible things to you and to other people! He said horrible things to you and you're going to go help him? I say just leave him to rot!” Her green eyes flash around the room, familiar in a way that makes your heart ache.

Her harsh words hurt. Rosemary only knew what you’d told her about her father and although you tried to tell her about the way Ben was when he was younger as she got older Rosemary wanted to know why you and Ben had a fight. And you didn't like lying to her. Now you consider that maybe you should have.

Because what if he was alive? Would she want to meet him? Would he care enough to want to meet her or Lou? I mean I can cut him out of my life, but if Rosemary wants to know him I shouldn't stand in her way...

You and Ben weren't exactly careful that night, but you weren't sure if he just never cared about that kind of thing before. You weren't sure if he actually wanted kids, the one time you'd asked him and he'd said it "maybe" sounded nice to have some kids. You didn't know if that was a good standard to hold him to or not, given that he was drunk when he said it.

Then again, Ben was always drunk.

"I know that you can't understand this, but even though I hate him, I can't leave him. If the roles were reversed, if it was me, Ben wouldn't leave me. Even with everything he said.” Your chest tightens. "And it hurts me to think that he's been there since 1984 with those people doing God knows what to him."

Rosie sighs. "Mom, I know that you love him, but maybe it's better this way. He’s out of you life. You’re doing better than you were. You said it yourself you felt trapped when you were a supe-“

"He might not even be there. I just need to know what happened. And that means I have to leave for a little bit and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come back.”

"Wait what do you mean? You'd come back. You'd go over there, find out and then come back right?" She looks confused.

You press your lips together. "There's a possibility that if I do this, it will expose me, and I’ve already evaded Vought once. I’m not sure I can do it again.”

"So, what? You're gonna go over there and throw away everything for a guy that shit all over your heart and threw you away? Really? You're going to throw Lou and me away for him?" She's gesturing wildly with her hands now, eyes flashing around the room and again you're reminded of Ben.

"I'm not throwing you away-"

 It breaks your heart that she'd think that you'd do that, that you were willing to sacrifice them so easily.

Am I doing that?

"You're throwing away the life that you've built for yourself. You told me that you were more happy now that you'd been in the past. And now as soon as you hear about him you go right back? Just like how he made you leave your family-"

"He didn’t make me leave my family, it was my choice! I’m not throwing away the life that I have made and I'm not throwing away you or Lou. If you or Lou were taken, you better believe that I would fight for you, I wouldn't leave you to fend for yourselves for any amount of time. You are my family. And yes Ben is an asshole and I've hated him for the past forty years, but I can't leave him."

"I can't believe you're doing this." She pinches the bridge of her nose frustrated.

"I believed after all these years that the reason why Ben died was because I wasn't there. And Countess confirmed it."

"But he's not dead!"

"Maybe. But they made us fight so that I wouldn't be there. They wanted us to fight because they knew they wouldn't be able to stop me if they turned on him-" You try to reason with her, but you know she won’t listen.

She's just so damn stubborn. Just like someone else I know.

"That doesn't matter! That doesn't make what he did or said any less okay." Rosie snaps, before her gaze softens. “It doesn’t change anything. They may have caused you guys to fight, but Ben said those things to you. They didn’t make him say that or do that. He chose to. And I can’t believe that you’re going to forgive him-“

"I don't have to forgive him and I don’t want to. It’s not about forgiveness. I can't leave him. He might be able to turn his back on me, but I can’t stand back and ignore him if he needs help. Believe me I wish I could. I wish that after everything that happened I could walk away, but I can't.  And I know you don't understand that but-" You try to take a step towards her, but she steps back.

"That's not what I don't understand. What I don't understand is you playing with the possibility of losing this for him." She gestures around the apartment. "Do we really mean that little to you that you drop everything for someone that used you and treated you like you meant nothing?"

"You both mean everything to me. Trust me when I say that, but the fact that those two men showed up at my apartment and everything that happened with Countess means that I'm already involved. They already made this about me. I don't know why they needed to know about him, and I want to know why.”

“I can’t believe this.” She stalks past you into the kitchen to get down a bottle of tequila from the top shelf above the stainless steel refrigerator where she locks it away from Lou.

“Rosemary you’re so young-“

“Don’t make this about age. You’re older than me and you should know better.” She angrily pours a shot of tequila before knocking it back.

You try not think that the answer to all of your problems might lie in the bottom of that bottle. Sobriety definitely wasn’t getting any easier, not after you killed Countess or the revelation that Ben was possibly still alive. And especially not now in this fight.

“When you finally told me about him, it was the first time I’d ever seen you break.” Rosemary isn’t looking at you, she's looking down at the floor. “You’ve always been this strong independent figure in my life. You never needed anyone’s help to raise me. You’re so strong and formidable,  but then you told me what he did to you and I’ve never seen you look so small.”

The memories of what happened between you and Ben surge up again, but you beat them away with a stick. The last thing you wanted right now was to relive that in the middle of this fight.

She looks up, locking eyes with yours. “I don’t know why you would do this to yourself again, put yourself through that-”

“Because I still love him.” You mutter. As soon as you say it, you know it’s true. Ben did terrible things, said horrible things, but deep down you still loved the boy you grew up with. And maybe that was the problem, you imagined the boy you grew up being tortured and left to rot, and the thought broke you. “And I don’t know how to stop. Even after everything he did, we spent so many years together and the memory of them doesn't just vanish. I won’t be able to live with myself knowing that I could have helped him and I didn’t.”

Rosemary stands there halfway in the kitchen and the living room, the bottle hanging from her right hand. This time she drinks right from the bottle before answering. “If you really need to do this, then I'm going with you."

"No."

"Why not? I'm as powerful as you-"

"It's not about being powerful, I don't want this life for you, I've never wanted this life for you. I've worked so hard to keep you out of it-"

"But-"

"No. This is why I introduce you as my cousin, why you were homeschooled, why Lou is homeschooled, why Lou doesn't call me grandma, why you don't call me mom around other people. If Vought finds out about you or Lou, it won't matter. None of this will matter.”

"You don't know that." She says it softly.

"I do." You take her hand. "Rosemary, you are one of the strongest supes I've ever met and you're second generation. And Lou, we don't even know what her powers are, but I can guarantee that as soon as Vought finds out they will come for you both. There's a reason why I never told them what my real power was. I kept you both far from this and I don't want them to know."

"I don't want you to do this alone. What happens if you get taken over there?"

"What if you come with me and we both get taken? What about Lou then? What would happen to her? I don't want her to grow up without a family. Please. Just let me do this. It’ll probably take 2-3 days tops.”

Rosemary doesn’t look happy. “I don’t care how long it’s going to take. The only thing I care about is losing you.”

“They’re not going to take me-“

“Not just then.” She sighs. “I mean after. If you do have to cut and run-.” Rosemary shifts her eyes towards the hallway where Lou is asleep in her room before bringing them back to you. “I don’t care how complicated it is, we will go with you.”

“I won’t ask you to do that-“

“It’s what family does. It’s a sacrifice that I’m willing to make. I can always get another job, Lou can be homeschooled anywhere, and I don’t want Lou to live in a world where you’re not here. She needs her grandmother.”

Her words make tears prick in your eyes as you watch her determined stance. Rosemary and Lou were the only family you had left, the only two people that you cared about in the whole world. And maybe she was right, maybe you were throwing it all away for Ben. You hated yourself for wanting to help him, but you knew if the roles were reversed Ben would have come for you.

Well, the old Ben would have come to get me, maybe not Soldier Boy.

"You got another glass?" You ask with a sigh, looking at the bottle in her hand.

"You sure?" Rosemary raises an eyebrow.

"I'm gonna need it to get through the next few days. There's no way I can do any of this shit sober." You mutter following her into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, you're both sitting at her kitchen table with a bottle of whiskey and a fresh bottle of tequila between you. The haze of alcohol is making you feel infinitely better given the past few days you've had.

The whiskey burns pleasantly as you take a drink from the bright green sippy cup in your hand. Rosemary hadn’t washed dishes so this was the best she had. You knew you probably looked ridiculous.

Rosemary eyes you. "I can't believe you're drinking."

"I really needed this." You snort. "Given the past few days I've had-"

"I also can't believe you killed her."

"She wasn't a good person." You frown remembering what Countess said to you. "Plus I never liked her even before everything that happened. I know that's not a god enough reason to kill someone, but I can't change that now." You run your fingers through your hair to push it back from your face, trying to lose yourself in the buzz, but Ben keeps flashing through your mind.

Damn it, he's invaded by subconscious again.

Another few minutes pass as Rosemary sits there taking a sip from the bottle in front of her. “Do you really miss him that much?”

You pause considering the question. “Yes and no. I miss the person he used to be, before all of this. I think that’s the problem. I’m holding on to the person I grew up with. That’s all I keep thinking. That boy I knew being tortured in that lab.”

“It’s why you stayed on Payback for so long?”

“Yeah.” You take another drag of whiskey frowning at the sippy cup. “Sometimes I’d get glimpses, shapes really and it would make me forget who he was as Soldier Boy and then when I woke up the next day, Soldier Boy was back and Ben was gone.”

There were always quiet moments when it was just the two of you, when you forgot who he became and all you saw was the boy you used to know. When the cameras weren't rolling, the team was gone, and Ben was crashing at your apartment, for some unknown reason. He would do that, continue to show up at your apartment like he had when you were kids. It never made sense to you, especially because he only slept in your room growing up to escape his father. You couldn't think of a reason why he slept at your apartment when you were adults.

Probably just didn't want to be alone.

“That’s why you slept with him?”

“Yes. That night all I saw was the old Ben. And then I woke up with Soldier Boy.” You bite the inside of your cheek as the memory of the morning that followed washes over your mind. You never understood why he ran to Countess, never understood how he could push you away after all the years you spent together. Why he lied and said that he didn't care, because he had to. After everything you’d been through Ben had to care. You remember what Countess said to you and your shoulders sink under the weight.

Or maybe he was just a better liar than I thought.

“Do you regret sleeping with him?”

You look up at your daughter. She really does look like Ben. She was strong, determined, stubborn, and the way she held herself was so confident. And even though she would have been one of the strongest supes she chose to be a nurse, chose to devote her life to helping people instead of the shock and awe of the superhero world. You were so proud of her. You wondered if Ben would be too.

“No.”

“Why? You say that you loved who he was and then he-"

“Because he gave me you. I wouldn’t change a thing. You and Lou are the only thing that matter to me. I know you hate it when I say this, but you’re so young, you have no idea what it’s like to live as long as I have without changing. And whenever it was just me and Soldier Boy I was so alone until Ben came back. I don’t think I would have lasted these years without you Rosemary, think I would have given in to Vought or maybe gone to the government-“

“Are you serious?” Her eyebrows pull together as a worried frown graces her lips. She knew what you were saying.

“Yeah. But I am happy. Happy for the first time in a long time. The problem now is dealing with everything over there.”

“How about I come with you and wait in a hotel-" Rosemary tries again.

“No. It has to be me. I have to go.”

She sighs. “I just hate the idea that you’re not going to come back.”

“I’m going to come back." You smile. "If you can remember I'm a supe too-"

“If they’ve been able to hold him all these years, that means they could take you too.”

“Don’t know if I should be scared or impressed.” You snort into the cup.

“It not funny.”

“Fine, if I’m not back in a week, then I give you permission to come. But I don’t think you’ll need to.”

"You're old and decrepit. Probably will need my help-"

"Low blow."

She smiles faintly.

You roll the glass in your hand for a moment, watching the amber liquid swirl against the green sides. "If he is alive, would you want to meet him?"

Rosemary takes a long pull of tequila, but doesn't answer for a long time. "When I was a kid, sometimes I'd imagine that he was still alive-"

"What?" You looked at her genuinely shocked. You hadn't realized that she ever thought about Ben.

"That he would walk up our long driveway at our house in Maine and we'd be a family. That was before you told me about that night." She runs one of her fingers down the label of the bottle frowning. "I don't know. After what he did to you, I don't know.  Plus I’m almost forty years old, don’t really think I need a father now.”

This time you reach for the bottle of Whiskey, not bothering with the empty sippy cup. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you what he did. Should have let you fantasize about him, see the good-"

"I'm glad you did." She squeezes your hand. “And you didn't just show me the bad, you told me about the good times too."

"Maybe too much bad."

"I don't hate him. I'm mad at him for what he did to you, but I don't hate him."

"So it's a maybe?"

"I guess. I say that now, but I think my reaction if I do ever meet him will probably be the complete opposite. I’m also not sure if he should be around Lou.”

“Ben wouldn’t hurt her.” You press your lips together. "I don't think he would."

“Maybe not intentionally.”

"He's not a bad guy, well-" You take a sip from the bottle, remembering the fight. “He’s just complicated. I guess.”

And I'm still making excuses for him. 

“Sounds like you’re going to forgive him.” Rosemary is frowning at you.

For someone who wants to maybe meet him, she’s acting like she still doesn’t want me to forgive him.

“Trust me, our story is over, finally. I’m just going to bust him out of wherever the hell he is and then I’ll never have to see him ever again.” You remember what you yelled at one another the night of the premiere and it strengthens your resolve. You didn't want to forgive him, you just wanted to get him the hell out of Russia and maybe slap him around a bit and then go home and finally move on with your life. Because you were slowly realizing you never did, you just packed it all away deep down and pretended to move on. "This isn't about forgiveness, it's so I can live with myself."

"I just don't think you should forgive him so easily."

"I don't want to and I'm not going to. He doesn't deserve that." You mutter that last part into the bottle, because it was true. Ben didn't deserve your forgiveness, hell, he didn't deserve you risking your life to find him, but you had to.  His death left such a big hole in your life and you beat yourself up about it for years, you not being there for him when he needed you the most. But now, going to Russia, getting him back, meant that you could finally move on, that you could close the hole and finally be at peace.

Rosemary leans back in her chair with a sigh. “Promise me,  you're going to come back."

"I promise. Not even Homelander can stop me." You smile at her. “Now I just got to figure out where Ben is.”

Easy. Yeah right.

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[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Like there was no tomorrow." CH.7—Daryl Dixon.

Chapter Summary: After days and days on the road following the loss of Bob and Tyresse that night in the church, it all comes down to the reunion with your father. But after a revealing conversation, you finally understand why Daryl and you broke up. Then, April asks Daryl an important question before he asks you an important question as well.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads this story! We got to the moment where you and Daryl agree to form a home for yourselves and for April. Yeeeh. I hope you like it! And one detail, I love Beth but since her death left a void in my heart I didn't write about her here and about Maggie, Daryl and the others suffering because of it. It breaks my heart too much :c (I hope you understand)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

“I have a message for you.” On his knees, Gareth smiled at you, leaving you that memory before he died in God’s house that night. “Daddy’s coming for you, baby, you can’t hide forever.”

Far in the distance, the bus explodes as you continue deeper into the woods, leaving behind a monstrous flame whose warm colors resemble the sunset—a heartbreaking promise for either party, that at the end of this day, some will die.

The ambush. The group splitting up because of those people. April getting lost in the commotion. But now, even with your hair wet, some strands sticking to your face and the raindrops that surprised the summer season still falling down your forehead, nothing blocks your vision of that man when you finally find him: with the cruel, mocking smile on the face of your supposed father who had aged from the inclemency of life, his right hand holding the gun against April’s temple like an expert.

Like a bad joke from a cruel and short life, April relives that hopeless sensation of feeling another gun pointed at her, frozen in fear, but murmuring “mommy” under her breath, tears that get lost under the incessant rain. Always hidden in the shadows because that was where the monsters lived, the man who always tried to break you showed up this afternoon with his people, the person who trapped you in a windowless castle where he kept you as his favorite prisoner, always protected by the gigantic dragon, always small, always afraid.

You can shoot him now, but he had been such a good cop that, in a millisecond, he could shoot April even if he were dying.

“Dad, just let her go, okay? This is between you and me.” In a friendly tone, you lower the long–range weapon you had shoved against your shoulder, so hard that it leaves the bright promise of a bruise even in the dull rain, but the crumbs of your relationship with him make you do so, only to go back to being that helpless little girl who could never live up to putting his life in danger. He always underestimated you, even now. “Whatever problem you have with me, she’s not to blame for anything.”

Your dad lets out a dry, sarcastic and small laugh, but you can feel his repulsive disgust in that sound.

“You’re not my daughter, you never were, you were just a nobody that I kept raising even after your mom died.”

You swallow the pain, but your throat is so dry that you wince. Your mind is racing a mile for minute, and yet, suddenly the world seems clearer with that cold revelation even under the stormy weather, because now you can give meaning to everything, a reason to every word of his, every look, every action from him, to finally stop walking through that father–daughter relationship in the dark, blindly, always lost in the infinite why?

“It’s okay, Jeff, I understand. In fact, my whole life is starting to make more sense now, so thank you for the clarification.” Your tone is calm, an action that masks the painful beating of your racing heart. “But I ask you again, can you let my daughter go, please? Look at her, she's a baby. You don't have to ruin her life, too.”

His free hand holds April's small shoulder, keeping her firm against him.

“Your daughter is pretty, and I guess this is better than the disgusting idea of ​​you getting involved with that nobody, that drug dealer’s younger brother. Daryl, isn't it? Although I can see that the bastard didn’t stay as far away from you as he promised he would.”

Stunned by the thought of him and Daryl meeting in the old world, you feel the lump in your throat.

“You met Daryl?”

Another short laugh answers you before his words do.

“I have to give you credit because you hid your relationship pretty well those years, but I raised you better, sweetheart. Did you really want to end up being the wife of someone like him?”

Your common sense pushes your laughter to the back of your body, because answering sarcasm with more sarcasm would only make his short patience run out faster.

“I still don’t understand; would you mind explaining?”

You want the full story, and Jeff sighs, as if talking about Daryl is so exhausting that it leaves him without any energy.

“I saw you one night when Matt was driving me home. I was a little drunk. You were sitting on someone’s motorcycle outside a bar, and my heart actually jumped for joy at the thought that my son had finally come home…” The few seconds of his smile die cruelly, all under the words that come next. “But then I saw someone come out just to grab your face before kissing you. And I felt sick when Matthew filled me in on who he was. A redneck, a nobody, and worse, the younger brother of a drug dealer who’d been in jail. Not the right image for the police chief, sweetheart.” Jeff clicks his tongue in disapproval, almost convincing you that he had feelings for you. “It was easy to look into their backgrounds, and with a little heavy–handedness, he swore he’d walk away from you rather than see his older brother in jail again. So I guess he didn’t love you as much as he swore he did: you know no man gives up on the woman he truly loves…”

His words hang in the air, only to be carried away by the wind. But like that little boat that finally finds its way to shore thanks to the lighthouse, after having been adrift for so long, it all makes sense, everything you thought life took away with that farewell comes back to you. The end of the relationship, the words, the abrupt end to an affection that only seemed to grow stronger with time, it had all been cut off by a human hand.

There’s peace in knowing the truth, but there’s also anger in knowing that he deprived you of any other kind of love because your so–called father never wanted you to feel any, not from him, not from anyone else—Leaving you lost, feeling nothing. No. That’s a lie because you’re feeling absolutely everything right now. The pain of having been nothing to him. The unbearable pain because you did love him once. And it’s like drowning in the deep sea, feeling the pain of the water invading your lungs. And it’s like dying, but without truly allowing yourself to die.

“Well, you got it, Jeff. That relationship was over long time ago, do you feel better about that, big boy?” You chuckle, sadness masking the sarcasm he always hated hearing from you, and you let out a tired sigh next, like that last breath before you perish on the floor. “I guess your hatred for me makes sense now, because don’t think I never noticed the way you look at me... why do you think I always locked my door? What I don’t understand is why you stayed by my mom’s side like a wimp? Begging for love from the person who apparently cheated on you.” You scoff softly. A drop falls from his lip and the light weight wipes away his winning smile, but his pulse quickens, matching his heartbeat, threatening to destroy everything in a single second. “I honestly thought you died that night, but at the same time, I’m not surprised you ended up in Terminus. You were a cop, but you were never strong enough to do things alone, so I guess someone saved your ass that night, Matthew probably... because even he knew you're not as brave as you think you are.” His brow furrows at the shock of your words, but hatred gleams in his gaze like those days long gone, but never blurred. “I was a kid though, Jeff. So what’s your excuse? What was my sin in all this? What crime did I commit against you?”

But he remains silent, ineloquent and spiteful.

“And Austin, my brother, is he actually your son?”

He nods.

“Okay. Now, let my daughter go, and you and I can work this out.”

But the attempt at a step dies before you can take it as his body tenses, gripping April’s shoulder tighter.

“Mommy…” Her voice is a whisper, a soft cry that barely manages to find its way through her closed throat.

You swallow the fear.

“It’ll be okay, honey, trust me, okay?”

April can see through the terror, eyes bright with tears that are free again, but panic sets in as Jeff tries to take a step back, taking her with him. However, like a slow–motion movie, even your heartbeats slow as an arrow sinks into his shoulder, a loud cry pushing out of him with the pain. And like a slap from life, something breaks in the sky and the rain falls more dreadfully, seconds of bewilderment that April takes to run towards Daryl at the moment you raise the gun again, firing a bullet that sinks to the height of his chest.

You know why Daryl didn’t shoot him in the head, but the instant Daryl holds April as Jeff falls against that tree, you reach out to him before kicking the gun hanging in his hand.

“Are you going to kill me, baby?” He tries to laugh, but the action makes his expression twist in pain.

You let out a defeated sigh, like part of your soul is about to go with him, even though he didn’t deserve it.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? I found a baby that isn’t mine but I love her like she is, unlike you, who had a little girl in your house that you never knew how to love even when I tried to.” His gaze locks with you at your own revelation, an incredulous expression on his face that came through even despite everything he put you through, in the past and now. “Thank you, Jeff, because you saved my life in this new world even though your intention was for me to die young, don't think I didn't see it in your eyes, but now it's my turn to give you back the lesson: I must break you before you break me, because I know you won't stop until you ruin me completely, and I can't give you that pleasure anymore, not now that I have to protect my daughter.”

A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lip, feeling, for the first time, proud of you just seconds away from everything being over.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

You nod absently before raising the gun and firing.

Then, you slide the gun strap over your body to free your shaking hands, free from holding any instrument that only served to end some lives that crossed your path. Bad people, you want to believe as you turn around to leave behind every vision of that man, everything that happened at his side. For a few seconds, everyone needs a moment of silence to face what happened, but when you see Aeris on Daryl’s shoulder, you chuckle softly.

“Are you and my baby friends now? Like besties or something?”

Daryl scoffs before taking April’s hand, holding it gently but firmly before walking with you at their side.

“This ain't a damn friendship, woman, s'jus' a truce between me and the bird.”

Like a respite from that crazy life, the path back to the main road is clear of walkers. But you and April chuckle, amused glances passing each other as a good sign that not everything is as dark and dull as the rain and the forest—a good omen that life is not a selfish b*tch, not that much at least.

“You’re not as good a hunter as I thought if my bird had to bring you to me. You don’t get tired of me, do you?”

“Stop it.” Daryl grunts quietly, shooting you a warning look before continuing to look ahead.

You sigh before changing the subject.

“Please tell me the others are okay. Judith?”

Daryl looks at you again, silently telling you that the bad guys are gone.

“Everyone’s okay, peach. No one is hurt. And when all the craziness was over, Glenn came back sayin' he found a cabin. It smells like horse shit, but it works… fine, sorry!” Daryl whines when April tugs at his hand, a frown on her face as if her little mind lets her overlook the danger to her life, but not the bad words. “Ya need to get used to me, monkey.”

The little girl has her gaze fixed on him, as intense as Aeris and her overflowing curiosity.

“You don’t have to say so many bad words all the time, Da…” Caught in the constant confusion, April bites her lip to keep from saying out loud the word she wants to say to the first man she considers a true father figure. “Okay?”

Daryl scoffs.

“I ain't promisin' anythin' I know I won’t keep.”

There’s a moment between them, that complicity, father and daughter in their own world, and you stop for a moment to look at him: a man who would surely scoffs (as he does all the time) if you called him that prince who, unknowingly, without any intention of doing so, saved you from that cruel fate that you would never have been able to escape from alone.

Finally, in the middle of the unstable path, the small hill ends in a cabin in the middle of large trees, and Sam is the first to hold you in a hug: her body is warm despite the cruel cold, as is the warmth of Carol, Maggie and Rick.

Inside, the small campfire is still breathing and the warmth spreads throughout the place, the colors of the fire flickering to paint the emptiness of the place with soft shades of orange–some are awake, others have chosen to spend the rest of the night in gentler dreams, like Aeris who flew to one of the tallest trees. But as if she knows what’s coming and you don’t, Sam takes April to sleep near the campfire, and in silence, Daryl places his hand on your lower back, triggering memories, but you let him guide you to a side of the cabin where the light from the flames doesn’t shine brightly, making the scattered hay into a comfortable makeshift bed. Putting his crossbow aside, Daryl lays there with you, one arm behind his head and on his left side, watching the profile of your face, while, lying on your back, you finally let go of all the pain that was building up in your body.

“I know it will sound stupid but, are ya okay, peach?”

You sigh, wishing that, just like the air you let go, you could do the same with everything else inside you—and you want to start by telling the truth behind the separation, but you’re not ready for everything that would be unleashed.

“I heard what April told you when she ran to you… did you?”

Daryl’s heart races, as if an overwhelming emotion called fear and happiness put a hand on his neck, but it’s not because of fear of ruining it (I mean, although Daryl does feel that), but rather it’s because of the possibility of a better future, like a new version of a warm home he thought of building with you. He’s scared of that.

“'bout her callin' me daddy?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.” He murmurs, softly so as to not clash with the mood inside the place. “I think it hit me harder than a truck.”

You laugh softly, and finally, gathering courage, you turn your body to face him as well, watching him with a gentle gaze so as not to scare him with the overwhelming truth.

“Do you want to be? Because no one would blame you if you didn’t.”

Daryl gulps.

“I do, but I’m terrified of ruinin' it.” His free hand that rested at the height of his chest makes contact with your cheek, rough fingers caressing you lovingly, the other’s skin reminding you of the warmth you two shared in the past. His gaze on yours is deep as the sea, but now, you know you could never drown in the color of his eyes, not when Daryl would always be there to keep you afloat. “I was always scared of the idea of ​​being like ma dad, of hurtin' someone who was never to blame for anythin', like he did with me and ma brother.”

“Hey, no…” You stop him fondly, you own hand holding his, because there was always a fragile part of Daryl, the boy who became a man but still felt the pain like a child. “You are not your father, Daryl, and you never will be. He never knew how to love anyone and you did even though they never repaid you in the same way. I know you loved your mom and your brother… everyone can see how you feel about Carol and the family you formed all this time, and I’m sure even April can feel it. And yes, sometimes you have a short temper and you act like an asshole, but I know you did so you don’t feel too much when you lived so long bottling up your feelings to feel little or nothing, but I also know that this world has only shown you that you are capable of protecting and loving people you didn’t know first.”

Between a sea of ​​words that calm his heart, Daryl finds the strength to chuckle.

“To be fair, I did warn ya I was an asshole when we started datin'.”

“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I threw that peach at your head when you were being one?” You chuckle back. “Believe me, I saw the signs, but you were always incredibly hot so I guess I didn't care much about the rest.”

“Stop it.” Daryl grunts in embarrassment, pulling his hand away as he feels the heat shooting through his body, but his shyness makes you chuckle a little harder.

“Please, you are. And now even more so with your long hair.” You frown, but keeping a smirk. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

He clears his throat, but Daryl can feel the blush blooming on his cheeks.

“Nah, I jus' didn’t want to cut it all the time.”

You nod, not believing him at all.

“Well, let me tell you, that was a very good decision because you look very, very attractive, so much so that it should be a crime to look like that–”

Your words become prisoners within your lips as he places his hand over your mouth, his brow furrowed in the failed attempt to look serious despite the obvious embarrassment that accompanies it as a result of your unfiltered words.

“Woman, please stop.” His hand smothers your laughter, but you nod as a promise not to continue, causing him to pull away. “Jesus, I forgot how much ya loved to make fun of me.”

You try to keep a calm expression.

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t like it. You didn’t have a sense of humor until I came along.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“I never said I didn’t love it.” The word love pulls the scale to one side, so drastically that it breaks it, but you manage to keep the surprise from showing on your face. “And yeah, ya always seemed to enjoy teasin' me, but ya were so damn sweet that no one noticed that sassy mouth of yers.”

You scoff, just to hide the tickle in your chest.

“Look who’s saying it, the person who didn’t know anything else to say but sarcastically. But seriously, didn’t your face hurt from having that scowl on all the time?”

Daryl chuckles, but there was something in his eyes when they turned honest, transparent, just like now—dreamy eyes when it came to you, even with all the sadness, but there’s something broken behind his tear–crystallized gaze that Daryl struggles to keep from falling.

“M'sorry, peach, m'sorry, I was a fuckin' coward.”

“What?” You can’t find the right words because suddenly, Daryl seems to choke on his words, but he’s ready, you can see it, to let everything he kept hidden finally find the light. “I don’t—”

“I love ya, so fuckin' much.” His voice is soft, but decisive. “I always did, peach, and despite that shitty thought in ma head tellin' me all the time that ya deserved someone better, I was ready to become that someone 'cause I never wanted to let ya go, but yer dad threatened to put Merle back in prison if I didn’t stay away from ya… and Merle was a bastard, but he was ma brother, and I knew ya were ma real family, but I was afraid to break ya just like yer father did all those years. I could see the pain in yer eyes, n’ I didn’t want to do that to ya, too.”

The truth is overwhelming, even though you already knew it, but hearing the guilt in his voice makes it all the even more painful because Daryl did care about leaving you, unlike Jeff, who made him do it without a shred of remorse.

“Daryl, it’s okay.” Your gaze is warm and kind, a small demonstration that your words are real and you mean them. “It’s not your fault, it never was, you were doing what you thought was best. You protected your brother, Daryl, and that’s what family does.”

Daryl swallows the lump in his throat, holding your gaze through his sad eyes.

“But I pushed ya away, peach, even though I knew ya didn’t want to leave.”

With a slight broken smile, you try to hold back the first tear—the one that is the hardest to keep in line, because after it, the others would come like an unbridled sea.

“Yeah, you’re right, I didn’t want to leave you.” With one hand, you rub your face to remove all traces of hopeless expression. “Try to sleep, okay, love? Since we left the church you haven’t slept much, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

The pain is beating, but his serious expression breaks with a sad smile because Daryl knows he won’t force you to talk.

“Ya’ve always been a mom. With April and Sam, with me, and even with Merle.”

You let out a tired chuckle before closing your eyes, hands under your cheek to keep them warm.

“I know, but don’t pretend you didn’t like it either.”

A few seconds pass, until Daryl finds his voice.

“Woman, there’s nothin' 'bout ya I don’t love.”

His words hang in the warm air all night, eyes closed for a short time before falling into his own paradise, dreaming of something that would come true in the very near future. And at some point in the hours that passed with a blink, his free hand sought out your body and the warmth that emanated from it, like he always did since the first time you both slept together in a bed. Little memories came back to his sleeping mind, happy moments between holding hands, the first kiss and the ones that came after, when Daryl realized you were trustworthy and showed you his scars, with your gentle hand caressing every past pain, all before make love for the first time.

But when the day starts to return, Daryl feels the slight push of his heavy body and the emptiness beside him.

“What?” His voice is even deeper in the morning, and he sits up to see April through a blurry gaze for a few seconds. “Ya okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, but I need to ask you some questions.”

Daryl frowns, confused.

“Okay?”

“What’s mommy’s favorite color?”

Daryl frowns even more at a question that seems to come out of nowhere, but he ignores that April had already asked you the same questions days before just to check compatibility between you and him like Aunt Sam had said.

“Blue.” He answers, not missing a beat—like your eyes, she wants to say, but April decides to continue.

“Coffee, hot or cold?”

“Depends on the season, but always with sugar… sometimes too much.”

“Seafood?”

“Forbidden forever. Mommy ain’t a fan of the texture; she says it feels too funny in her mouth.”

“Her favorite fruit?”

“Peaches.”

“Her favorite flowers?”

“Tulips.”

“Favorite book?”

“Pride and Prejudice, but that’s a trick question 'cause she kept fallin' in love with every leading man like she didn’t have a damn boyfriend in real life.”

April laughs at Daryl’s expression, eyes still a little closed and hair a little disheveled.

“Can I ask you another question?” Daryl nods, not noticing her own expression. April is confused and terrified, her little mind racing like her little heart squeezing almost painfully. “If I asked you, would you be my daddy, Daryl?”

Like that imaginary truck that seemed to have run him over, or faster than the bike he used to drive when he didn’t even care about his own life, Daryl smiles despite the inner terror, that misguided idea of ​​ruining everything because that’s what his own parents taught him, but as he holds April with ease, lifting her up to bring her closer to him, because, although Daryl knows that life is unpredictable, the only thing he can be sure of is that he could love the little person who had seen through that shield of his, the real person behind, the older but scared person, with the little girl in front who wanted to give him a chance to have a family now that life had put her in front of him.

“Ya’ve been ma daughter since I met ya, sweetheart, since the first time I held ya in ma arms as if ya were mine.” Daryl pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, an expression that is so simple and so powerful. “Is that okay?”

Her relief is so overwhelming that it can’t fit in her chest and her small frame, but it’s the impulse that makes April wrap her arms around his neck.

“Okay, daddy.” She smiles through her tears, her voice cracking but dripping with happiness. And April feels loved in his arms, and that's enough for her. “Mommy’s outside. Now go give her the ring before the others wake up.”

April pulls away as Daryl has the same confused expression.

“How do ya know 'bout that, young lady?”

The little girl shrugs before running to the place where she was sleeping with Sam. Sure enough, the place is still silent, with soft breaths and some light snoring mixing together. His sleeping heart wakes frantically as Daryl stands up, sweeping some piece of hay from his body before opening the door of the cabin and closing it behind him, taking your profile a few steps away where the hill ends, framing the sunrise between two trees like a moving photograph, with Aeris in your hand until the falcon takes flight when Daryl approaches.

“That man ya said ya could see in me... do ya think ya could give him a chance, peach?”

Like a reflex, like a magnet that always draws you two together, you turn to see him and his body does the same, finding each other face to face.

Your gaze is confused, but always kind.

“What do you mean?”

“Peach…” His voice is low, a little nervous, and maybe even unsure because the constant fear of that wrong idea still looms before him, more fearsome than a walker, but Daryl has never been more sure of what he is about to ask of you. “Ya know I ain't good with words, but I want to tell ya that ya and April are ma family, the home I never thought I deserved. And s'kind of funny that the world had to go to shi–” Daryl decides to stop and use another word, just because his little girl doesn’t like bad ones. “That this new world had to start so I could find ya two, and I want to make things right if ya’ll have me.”

When Daryl pulls a ring out of his pocket, your breath seems to catch in your throat, and although your mouth threatens to fall open, you keep it closed while making the monumental effort to hold his gaze when his returns to yours.

“When did you get a ring?”

“Ya don’t want to know.” Daryl lets out a small laugh, shy and scared. “I want to be with ya and our baby girl for as long as we can live in this world, peach. I love ya for who ya are, for yer stubbornness and for yer strength, but also for how sweet ya are all the time, with our family and with me. I want to hug ya, kiss ya, hold yer hand and be able to be at least a little bit of that man ya always saw in me… I know we could die tomorrow but I hope not, I hope life gives us time to build somethin' for April, for us and for everyone. And yeah, I know I can be an asshole sometimes but I promise I’ll be better, and although I can’t promise ya a story like the books ya used to read, I can promise that I will love ya n' our kid for the rest of ma life.”

His words travel around the world and come back to your heart, overwhelmed by his sudden confession just when you had thought that you two would never, ever be together again. But as the day grows brighter and you take all in, so does the realization that there is only one answer to his question.

“Peach, could ya give me an asnwer, please? I’m dyin’ here.”

You chuckle, but as your eyes returns to him and a soft smile appears on your closed lips, you now know that what Jeff said was a lie—Daryl did love you, he always did, so much so that he walked away from you despite his own pain.

“Of course I’ll marry you, silly.”

Like the first breath of air after being submerged for too long, Daryl feels like he can breathe as he holds you in a hug after placing the ring on your finger, the warmth of your bodies recognizing each other after a long time. As if the world has been put on pause, everything feels infinite, erasing all traces of the pain of each other’s absence, leaving only the immense joy of being together when that was the only thing you two had ever wanted. And when you part slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his hand caressing part of your cheek and your hairline.

“You know I should make you beg, don’t you?” You’re playing and he knows it, and even though you squint in mockery as you pull away, Daryl can feel the relief tickling his chest.

“Yeah, I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” You nod, thoughtful. “And who would marry us anyways? Because it’s not like there are many priests in this world to officiate a wedding.”

Daryl nods, keeping an amused expression.

“We can ask Gabriel.”

You grimace.

“You sure? Because you told him religion was crap.”

Caught off guard, Daryl clears his throat.

“Or ya could ask him. Ya’re the nice one in this relationship.”

You shrug.

"I guess you're right. And I guess this will be the perfect excuse to find you a better shirt, maybe one with sleeves."

Daryl frowns.

"What? Woman, I wore ma best shirt the first time I asked ya out."

“Hi.” Your laugh catches in your throat as the male voice draws your attention, but as a reflect of his protectiveness, Daryl steps in front of you, his hand holding the gun that was always at his waist. “Hi! Sorry for scaring you like that, but I’m not the enemy, I promise.”

His words seem honest, but the muzzle of the gun is still pointed in his direction.

“What do ya want?” Daryl is calm, and his hand doesn’t tremble.

The young man raises his hands in a sign of peace, maintaining a friendly smile.

“My name is Aaron, and I’m looking for Rick. You two are his family, aren’t you?”

The silence falls heavy for a moment, until the chirping of birds breaks the strange spell, but Aeris’ singing voice draws your attention as she joins the melodious chorus for the first time—perhaps as a divine sign that things are finally about to get better.

@fluffy-dixon @stunkbiggu @kurogxrix @ffsjustletmesleep @kaz11283 @daryldixmedown @enretrogue

[atticsandwich]

out of focus, eye to eye

pairing: beelzebub / gn! reader (mc)

fluff, the slightest of tension, food + you = a happy demon

The times Beel shows his love for you, not through words, but in the little things you didn't think he would notice.

(He does.)

happy birthday beel and belphie 🥹 i only had enough brain juice to write for one twin, i'll make it up to you soon bel, i promise

—

11:59.

You didn't usually crave for something to eat at the dead of night, especially with how hearty some dinners at the House of Lamentation can be. Today was no exception; Leviathan as the designated cook of the day laid out an entire spread of dishes from an anime he's been watching recently, his dedicated effort paying off with an across-the-board commendable feast.

Really, you had no business still being hungry after everything you ate, but your growling stomach commands otherwise.

"There should still be some leftover doughnuts from yesterday..." you think to yourself as you close the door of your room. Thankfully, the kitchen's right next door, but that also means you immediately notice the tell-tale signs of a very awake, very hungry demon.

"There goes my doughnuts..." a tragedy, considering nothing is safe when the Avatar of Gluttony is in one of his midnight fridge raids.

"Hm? Oh, you're awake. Were you hungry too?" you must've been standing there for quite a while now for Beel to notice you, as he waves and motions for you to come closer.

"Sort of, yeah," you reply, walking to his side. "Got anything for me?"

Wordlessly, considering he just shoved an entire cupcake in his mouth— sorry Asmo— he points to a familiar box towards the side.

"...Doughnuts? I thought you've eaten them by now," you say, pleasantly surprised. Taking the box from the fridge, you take a seat by the demon's side. Upon opening, you notice that although it was indeed already eaten from, two of the same ones were left as is.

"Hm...? These are..."

"They're your favorite kind, so I made sure to save them for you," Beel says it so nonchalantly, immediately resuming his fridge raid, but you can't help the butterflies that start twirling in your belly, hunger almost dissipated.

Taking a bite, you finally relish in fulfilling your sudden craving. A few more and half a doughnut's left, and you realize that Beel switched to looking at you eat, a fond smile in his face. You couldn't help but fluster at the attention, averting your gaze away from his.

"...You have some crumbs around your mouth," before you could say anything in reply, he takes his thumb and wipes the side of your lip, his eyes on you the entire time. You muttered a shy 'thank you' before he takes his own thumb to his mouth, clearing off the crumbs that were on yours.

"...Mmm, I get why they're your favorite. It's really good."

—

Lunchtime at R.A.D can sometimes be a life-or-death affair, especially when the cooks decide to put their best foot forward for the day. Today was one of those days— with a today's menu spread rivalling that of Ristorante Six, you can almost feel the overflowing anticipation seconds before the bell rings.

5 seconds...

At this point, nobody's listening to the professor, but the fidgeting figures of students eager to dash out is quite a sight.

3 seconds...

Being human meant being at a disadvantage, you thought. Yes, your magical prowess is pretty prominent, but the average demon can still physically overpower any regular human.

1 second...

"Hey, did you want to eat out for lunch today?"

Beel's voice overtakes the blaring of the lunch bell, demons of all sizes rushing immediately towards the cafeteria. In the distance, you see Mammon's figure scrambling and slinking his way throught the crowd like a little snake— smart.

Yeah, there's no hope for you out there today.

"That sounds nice actually," you sigh wistfully. Maybe next time, after you get some wrestling pointers from Beel.

"Hell's Kitchen has some really good deals for lunch today, plus they have a new dish I really wanna try," you walk out the room with the demon, already daydreaming of his lunch spread.

"Don't worry. Next time, I'll carry you on my shoulders so we can run through the lunch crowd together," he must've noticed how you were staring at the cafeteria earlier. You gave him a reassuring smile, as if telling him you're fine.

"Thanks, Beel. But you're capable enough as is now, so... don't you want to try the chef specials today?"

"Well, yes, but I could always do that another time. I'd rather eat lunch with you," the earnesty in his voice gave you butterflies again, and you hope you're hiding how flustered you are now sufficiently.

"...I'd rather eat lunch with you too, Beel."

He hums happily in response, taking your arm on his own. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you give him a squeeze back.

—

Sorcerer training days with Solomon varied in difficulty each week; sometimes you two would simply brew a bunch of potions together, while other times he'd have you cast a variety of spells in succession, often resulting in you tiring out your magic reserves.

Unfortunately for you, today was spell day.

You almost always came home late during these kinds of days too— which meant dinner was usually done by the time you got home. You usually didn't mind, as it also meant the house was a lot more quiet, with the brothers all retreating to their rooms for their end-of-the-day routines. After grabbing a quick bite to eat, you head to your room, fully prepared to just collapse in bed.

Weird— was my room this tidy when i left this morning?, you wondered, but who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth? Your study area was organized, the room smelt like fresh linen and citrus, and your bed—

Ah.

Beel has his head laid on your mattress while seated on the floor, letting off the smallest of snores. You let out an endeared sigh, approaching the large demon, analyzing his face as he slept before you gently tapped his shoulders to try wake him up. The demon grumbles in response, eventually slowly opening his eyes. When he finally notices you, he opens them fully, before pulling you down for a hug.

"You're back," you can feel him smile in the embrace. Although tired, you try to return the hug as best you can.

"Were you the one who cleaned my room?"

"Yeah," he nods in confirmation. "You looked more tired recently, so I wanted to help out. But, uh... I think I got some crumbs on the floor from eating while I was waiting for you. Sorry..."

You laugh again, pulling the both of you up from the floor to sit on the bed.

"Thank you, Beel. That was very thoughtful of you," you give his nose a little peck, and it's adorable the way he hums happily in response, clearly content with your satisfaction (and kiss). You sometimes wonder what you did to deserve someone like Beel, but then again, if you told your younger self the life you're living now, you'd probably look at yourself crazy.

"Well, since you're already here and I woke you up, let's just sleep together," you suggest, patting on the opposite side of your bed as an invitation. It's amazing how those string of words instantly light up his face.

"Really?" he asks, although he's already walking to the other side of the bed, already accepting the invite.

Quickly changing into your sleep clothes, you dive into bed right next to him, his arms open and ready to slot you in. You fit in his hold just right, and you inhale the distinct scent of wood and vanilla— which, coupled with how one of his hand is softly stroking the back of your head, quickly lulls you into comfort, your eyes starting to droop.

"G'night Beel," you say, sleepily.

"Goodnight," he returns, before leaning down to plant a small kiss on the crown of your head, and another on your forehead.

As you finally succumb to the world of dreams, the last thing you hear a small hum and a whisper of "I love you."

Tomorrow, you'll say it back to him first thing in the morning.

—

tags: @insomniachox

[ubtendo]

Now that I'm finally though with DBZ here a some ver general bullet points I made while watching of things I'm still thinking about after watching the whole thing (- the movies, I'm still gonna catch up to them) in a somewhat chronological order

The fact that we had that Goku and Gohan eyecatcher for 200 episodes and Gohan wore that outfit for 5 episodes at most

Every jump or dodge is on an olypmic gymnast level of complexity, like why was Goku doing so much when he jumped down from the Nimbus to face Raditz? Did he learn that from Kami or what?

Saiyans wearing only slips under their armor

Nobody mentions the complete colour change of Vegetas pallete from his first appearance; red head Vegeta will always be true to me 😔

I'm still not sure if they ever restored the moon after the second time they blew it up

How is Yajirobe getting up and down Korrins tower? I know he has a flying car, but where does he park it?

King Kai's presence as an unreliable narrator irritated me somehow

I don't get how Yamcha's death is such a meme? Like I don't question it's existence but him getting dragged so much even though there were way funnier deaths imo

I think this was also the last time Chiaotzu was relevant in any form

Why introduce the Saiyans as this cool alien giant monkey race if you never go anywhere with it after the Saiyan saga?

Vegeta crying out all the pent-up frustration from being used as a slave by Freeza at Goku's feet and Goku being emotionally unavailable to the whole thing

There is no way Goku would have been able to start Freeza's ship if it didn't crash into the core, I refuse to believe his button mashing had any thought behind it, that man does not know how to start a spaceship

The sounds of the planet exploding everywhere while Goku and Freeza are fighting haunt me

Bulma is so freaky for flirting with Porunga

Death has literally no consequences

Popo and Kami running for like an entire episode while Piccolo Gohan and Krillin were fighting was so funny

Also, Popo and Kami are a married couple, don't come at me. I'm just stating the facts

Freeza coming back from death and introduced back as this bloodthirsty entry out for revenge along with his father, who we've never seen before, only to be cut up by a teenager with a cool sword immediately upon arrival

So many situations and problems could have been avoided if Goku actually properly used Instant Transmission and I'm not fighting on that one

ChiChi must be the most loyal and faithful person on the planet if her man is dead or absent throughout most of the time

The whole drivers licence episode is peak to me

Piccolo telling Kami he needs to fuse with him again, Kami rejecting the idea saying he still needs time to think about it then agreeing immediately after 5 seconds

I don't get the logistics of Trunks hair growth. At the same time, boy drop the routine

The super saiyans of the Cell Saga were peak designs

Somehow Goku being really relaxed the days before the Cell Games really unsettled me

ChiChi saying thery were late to Kame House because Goku left them in the car and non of them knew how to drive while KRILLIN, who we have seen driving a car in the beginning of DBZ, was sitting in the back; I guess he just didn't want to drive with ChiChi

What's the purpose of the guardian of the Earth again? Except the making the dragon balls neither Kami nor Dende ever really did anything

When I first saw 16 all those years back I was judging him hard, but he has grown on me a lot

Imagine getting hit so hard by a 11 y/o that you start throwing up people

Except 18, there aren't any female fighters. I wish ChiChi would have stayed one

The new eyecatcher, especially the one with King Kai and Goku is so funky I love it

Goten and Trunks are a better depiction of children acting their age then Gohan was (tbf he was casted out in the wild for a year on his own but I digress)

Goku speaking to his son from the dead after 7 years of silence, only for him to announce that he basically has a day off from being dead and wanted to join a fighting tournament because he is bored

I had to stop and sit for a moment after hearing Daboras english voice

Vegeta really said "I started loving my life and I hate the fact that I love my life so I'm evil again"

Out of all the traumatic events happening in the series, Goku yelling at Goten and Trunks to stop whining after they learned that Gohan and Vegeta are dead has to be the worst one

"Super Saiyan 2" "Super Saiyan 3" Man just give the forms actual names

I didn't like SSJ3 at the beginning, but I've come to like the neanderthal look of it

Piccolo throughout the whole Buu Saga was peak, man was so lost and terrified

Also the interactions between Gotenks and Piccolo

Gohan and Goku playing catch with a sword and a boulder probably counted as "Father-Son bonding time" to Goku

Gohan and Buu getting in the same fighting positions as Goku and Vegeta did in their first fight wss actually really dope; I was kicking my feet on the bed

I've cried tears of laughter when Tien showed up for half an episode, almost died and then left

They should have used Solar Flare way more often

This is so random but ChiChi, Bulma and Videl chilling with Dabora

Goku and Vegeta throughout the whole saga had me like🤨

Vegito 💖💕😮🫵💖💕💞

Humans are the worst race in every Sci-fi; they get told that they only have to raise their hands to save the universe and they still don't do it

If Goku and Vegeta had a mad make out session after the fight with Buu I wouldn't have been surprised

People get shot in the right shoulder/chest way too often; PICK AN OTHER SPOT THE HEART IS ON THE OTHER SIDE

Everyone has goldfish memory. They keep forgetting things that have been established MULTIPLE TIMES

Ngl, the end had me a bit emotional

Aaaahhh, sorry for the long post. I got way too enthusiastic about the whole show because I really loved it 😔🥺

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Opening Ceremony

@wolfstarmicrofic August 1, word count 732

Because I am an absolute nutter, it looks like I'm swapping the two series I did last month over so now we have part two of the Apple Core series that was a Jegulus story but now it's following on as a Wolfstar. I'll link the pervious Jegulus series if any one wants to read that first. Hope you enjoy.

Previous Jegulus part First Jegulus part

“Come on Remus, get the banner higher, like James’s side. Yes, that’s better. Perfect.” Sirius directed from the floor while James and Remus balanced precariously on chairs outside the café. Sirius and Remus had just bought it for a relatively good price. He’d sunk everything he had into it, well what he had left after getting them the nice flat. It was just typical that this place went on the market with a perfectly adequate flat above it the day after they exchanged contracts for their flat. Sirius had made a fuss about it at the time, but he believed everything happened for a reason. He had this niggling feeling that he and Remus were not meant to live in the flat above the café, so he put it out of his mind and got to work.

The café had been a disaster. They’d had to rip everything out to the studs and start again, but that meant they could use the space however they wanted. They did as much as they could themselves to keep costs down, which basically meant telling James what they wanted and pointing him in the right direction. 

But today was opening day and Sirius was nervous. What if nobody came? What if this was a colossal waste of money, and he was just a waster like his parents had told him over and over as he was growing up? His thoughts turned to his brother for a second. He hadn’t seen him in 5 years and had no idea what he was doing. As far as he knew, Regulus still lived in that house with them. He quickly put an end to that train of thought. He highly doubted he’d see or hear from Regulus any time soon. 

He stood back to appraise their handiwork. He grinned a face-spitting smile. The banner proclaiming Open for Business proudly hung under the shimmering blue-tinged white letterings of their shop’s name, Howlin’ at the Moon. He just needed to add the finishing touches, and they’d be ready for the grand opening ceremony. He ran back inside and began to drag out the piece of rolled-up red carpet, the velvet ropes and the big red ribbon. When he was done, he jumped around with glee and checked his watch for the time. They still had two hours.   

Effie and Monty turned up to help make all the samples. He and Remus had kept it simple. Shots of their signature coffee blend and miniature cheese toasties, which were normal cheese toasties artfully cut up by Monty himself. 

“Sirius look,” Remus physically spun him around to face the glass front of the shop. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Already there was a huge crowd waiting patiently for the doors to open. 

“Mum!” He called into the back, “We’re going to need more cheese toasties, a lot more,” Effie came round to see what was going on and gave him a big squeeze. 

“You’re going to be amazing darling,” She whispered into his ear as she planted a big wet kiss only a mother could give on his cheek. “And don’t think you can sneak away Mr, you’re just as much a part of this family as the others are,” Effie wrapped her arms around Remus, who’d been trying to avoid her kisses, and held him there while she covered his face with red lipstick. 

“How many times do we have to tell you, Moony,” James snickered from the other side of the counter. “You can’t run away from her, it’s best just to accept her love and be done with it,” Remus grumbled at him and made rude gestures when Effie’s back was turned as he tried to wipe the red stains off his face. The clock chimed and it was time to go.

Sirius swallowed nervously as he took in the crowd. He was standing with an oversized pair of scissors in front of the door, preparing to make a speech. He took a deep steadying breath and felt his body tremble. Remus came and stood beside him, and together they introduced themselves and welcomed everyone to their café. Holding the scissors between them, they cut the ribbon and watched it fall to the floor as the local paper took a photo of the event. They opened the door and the crowd surged forward. Howlin’ at the Moon was officially open.

Next part

[milkymora]

left ✧ tsukishima kei x fem!reader ✧ pt 7

taglist: @tsukkisbbygirl , @notverymarley , @haechansbbg , @happiness2014

summary: sharing your thoughts with him might awake something between you two. or maybe the opposite.

tw: hinting sexual interest?

“i better not catch you doing that again, clear, tsukishima?!” you repeated the teacher’s words, mimicking her despotic, elderly voice. tsukishima was laughing like you’ve never seen him do, holding his stomach with his hand.

“i swear, today she was even worse than usual.” he continued, until his laughter faded into a chuckle, that faded into a smile awhile after.

“she was...” you commented after laughing like a madman along him, joining his silence not much after.

you had a beaming smile crossing your face from ear to ear, feeling a boost of good mood in your core. you were so happy.

you couldn’t remember the last time you had such genuine laugh with him... actually, you weren’t even sure you ever had a time like that. it was like a chemistry you never knew you had with him awoken.

thinking about it, everything changed after that conversation. who would’ve imagined that calling him an asshole would’ve taken you to that moment. perhaps your words hit where they were aimed. was there a chance that, maybe, he pondered on what you told him and made a good use of it, instead of discarding it aside?

of course, though, just a week passed by. it was way too soon to draw hasty conclusions. however, you could be wary and still enjoy your little moment with him.

“wanna go to the rooftop?” suddenly, he asked. “why?” you questioned him, meeting his amber eyes through the lens of his black glasses.

shrugging, he crossed his arms. “what’s the point of staying here in the aisle like two idiots?”

you threw a glance at the door of the classroom a couple meters away from you, then at the clock next to it. 2:20 PM.

for a moment, you wondered if that would’ve got the two of you in trouble, considering that what you did a couple minutes ago had never happened before. you both were very serious students and getting kicked out might bring out consequences later on.

still... it was the last class of the day. what could go wrong? nobody will notice you two missing for awhile.

“why not.” eventually, you answered.

and not even 5 minutes afterwards, you were staring at the houses’ roofs in the distance from the big rooftop, with your arms resting on the icy cold railing.

shivers ran down your spine each time the typical december breeze touched your skin, something you weren’t seeing happen with tsukishima. though you decided not to make comments on that.

instead, you left your eyes wander around the city, looking almost as if you’ve never seen it. which was partly true, considering you never really went there prior.

“it’s a nice sight.” you commented, without looking away. “very nice.” he added.

however, his gaze wasn’t on the landscape ahead of you when he pronounced that simple phrase.

“anyway...” he proceeded to clear his throat, “you’re gonna come to dinner saturday, right?” he asked, shifting his position, giving his back to the city and resting his elbows on the railing.

“who knows. i might.” you dryly replied, just to mess with him. you had all the intentions of going, after what happened and was happening.

but strangely, he kept quiet after that.

you tilted your head towards his direction, searching for the hypothetical reason why he got silent. but you found none. instead, you looked at his face, noticing his serious features. he looked like he was holding back, like he had something to say or ask.

“what’s wrong?” questioning him, you rested your chin on the palm of your hand.

“nothing.” he replied, mutturing, as you watch his adam’s apple bob in his throat. for a moment, you kept your gaze on his upper body, shifting from his neck to his broad shoulders.

he’s always been very skinny, but you could see his biceps got bigger under his white shirt. his whole body seemed to have grown muscle mass in the last months.

probably due to his volleyball training, you thought.

your eyes lowered slightly, timidly sliding down to his hip bones, feeling yourself getting warmer on your face as you watched his thighs and groin, nibbling your thumb’s nail in the meantime.

“well..” he began, shifting his gaze on you. you snap your head away from his body as he did, as if you didn’t just check him out. you swallowed, fixing your position next to him.

“well?” playing it cool, you hoped what you just did hasn’t been secretly caught by him. but his lack of comments reassured you.

“i was just thinking it’s nice to be somewhere we can’t get interrupted.” he said, “there’s no teacher around.” he added, before his lips curved mildly upwards. “and no kiyoko.”

the air suddenly became dense.

you swallowed again. harder. you wanted to talk about it, you really did, but how could you do it when he had that grin on his lips. he knew that you knew what he was hinting.

unconsciously, you touched the back of your neck, right where he wrapped his fingers on, saturday. the feeling of his minty breath tickling your nose as he spoke... you silently re lived that moment in your head.

“what about it?” you questioned.

“don’t play stupid.” he bullied, and without giving you the time to form a thought, he proceeded. “’most things?’ interesting. mind elaborating?” chuckling, “also, i know you just flattered that prick to replicate what i did to the waitress. it was so obvious, everyone probably noticed.”

“oh? i think everyone rather noticed you flirting so falsely with that girl. that was embarrassing, not my sincere compliments to a friend.” you talked back.

“and since when are you friends with him?” he raised his eyebrow, letting out a laugh, which you weren’t sure was nervous or teasing.

“since we enjoy each other’s company. just because you don’t see me with him doesn’t mean i don’t spend time with him. or the rest of the guys.” responding, you walked towards the bench at the center of the rooftop, with him following behind you.

you took a step on the wooden surface of the object, lifting yourself up with the other leg and sitting at the top of the backrest. crossing your legs, you looked at tsukishima, who was standing still before your eyes.

“and... regarding what i told you, i do mean most of the things i said. your behavior has been so bad. i don’t understand how can you be so comfortable talking shit to someone you don’t even know.” with a tint of annoyance, you thought about his recent behavior with the other students of your shared classes. “the only thing i, almost, regret saying is the last part.”

he kept silent, letting you talk, with his usual poker face, not letting any emotion peek through.

you sighed, your cheeks coloring of a soft pink shade. you pondered for a second if you really wanted to say your next words.

but his inquisitive stare made your heart fasten its beating. like always.

“i do wanna be near “someone like you”. we’ve known each other for so long, it’d be sad to throw away our friendship like that.” you struggled to find a good choice of words, hurting a bit when calling your situation a friendship, and still trying to maintain a sort of wall up as to not let your feelings overflow in your sentences. “but you really need to start doing better.”

he inhaled deeply, after a minute or so that you finished your monologue, shifting his amber eyes to the entrance of the rooftop. again, he cleared his throat, this time quieter, almost as if to shake away nervousness or agitation. he didn’t look bothered at all, although his actions told a different story.

“i get it.” he simply left out, seemingly struggling to find his own words as well.

it was like your conversation turned into a confessions moment, to which each had their thing to say that they’ve been holding in since the moment you had that “argument”.

silence fell between you two. an awkward, uneasy quietness that had you beginning to pull your cuticles in your hand. that was it? – you wanted to ask him. you just told him something important. he should have more to say on the matter.

... shouldn’t he?

embarrassment began to make your palms sweaty as the endless seconds went on.

“uhm.” you scratched your arm, another typical gesture you did when upset. “i think we should go. class is probably over.” not knowing what to say, you blurted out the first thing that crossed your mind.

he lifted his hand, watching the small, brown, wristwatch. “it’s fine. we still have 20 minutes.”

awkwardly, you mumbled a ‘okay’.

those 20 minutes passed in agonizing slowness. the two of you just kept quiet, you didn’t know what to say, although there were a few questions itching to be asked, like why did he flirt with that girl he didn’t know. or why did he seem so interested in your getting along with kageyama.

however, tsukishima seemed to be deep in thought. he walked again towards the railing, leaning against it and watching the panorama, leaving you alone on the bench. what was there to be said, you had no clue. perhaps he was thinking about what you’ve just confessed, or perhaps his mind started to think about yamaguchi and everything that he saw yesterday.

still, after the time was over, you quietly got back to the aisle you were supposed to have been the whole time. the teacher scolded you once more after all the other students left the classroom, before letting you guys head back home.

you and him shared a couple words, of not much relevance, until you arrived at your own respective places. you were about to turn around and wave him goodbye, but he anticipated you, without giving you the time to reciprocate. he entered his place, closing the door behind his shoulders.

a bit taken aback, offended actually, you got inside your home, wondering what happened to have made him begin to act rigid.

the next couple days passed with absurd velocity. there were a few classes here and there shared with tsukki, to which you didn’t talk much. you weren’t even given time to think about your conversation with him to say it all.

the both of you had your own things to do. tsukishima was busy with his class president duties and his volleyball trainings, not to mention the daily time he dedicated to be with yamaguchi at the hospital. on the other hand, you had to give a hand on several small events going on in the school.

you spent most of your time with yachi, going from class to class to make students sign papers and collecting documents to hand at the teachers.

you also happened to go one more time with yachi at the mall, seeking for a good outfit to use at the dinner. which you did find, to your surprise. it wasn’t anything breathtaking, but you liked its simpleness. it suited you, and it matched with your short friend overall.

the weekend arrived in the blink of an eye.

it was friday night. 7 PM to be precise.

you had your laptop sitting in front of your crossed lap, on the bed. your eyes shifted from the screen, which had a movie playing, to the dress hanged on the handle of your wardrobe.

anxiety was kicking in. you had been so busy all these days that you couldn’t stop a moment to think about tomorrow, and worries on how the evening could go began clouding your mind.

as kei told you, he stopped sharing informations on the yamaguchi situation. luckily, though, tadashi explained to all the team members the whole thing, letting the boys know he would’ve been absent for most of the trainings during the week. you pretended to be hearing the story for the first time, sending him a couple texts occasionally to let him know you were there for him in case needed.

you were so relieved to know his father was starting to feel better, and that he would’ve been present to the dinner.

but still, that was little comfort. tsukishima was the one making you sweat cold. not once you happened to speak again about what was told in the rooftop, instead, he acted as if nothing was said.

he got cold. avoidant of you. it was like he didn’t want to talk to you, for some unknown reason.

lying to yourself about it was pointless. you thought of his behavior much more than you’d like to admit. it hurt you. he had no reason to be doing that. you had those deafening questions haunting your sleep.

did you say something wrong?

did you do something wrong?

looping in your head. over and over again.

✧ previous ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ next ✧

[aithusarosekiller]

Black Brothers short fic: Sirius leaving

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Not edited

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It wasn't easy to pinpoint the precise moment the switch flipped in Sirius' mind. In fact, there was a high likelihood there wasn't one at all, that it wasn't one big moment setting him off, but rather the adrenaline climbing up so high that even the soulless dinner conversation was enough to give that final push. It had been a long time coming and nobody in the house would dare dispute it. His case had been packed for days; he hadn't even unpacked it since he came home, waiting for the opportunity to just grab it and leave. He almost had twice before Christmas Day came around. Both times he had been egging himself on to just stand up, grab the bag, and go but he'd backed down at the last minute both times.

The first time he hadn't even gotten up from the armchair and made his way down the hall to where it was hidden, just to the side of the coatstand. The second- he had made it all the way down the stairs in the dead of night, managing to bypass every tricky part of the path down to the front door. His hand had stopped just above the handle of his case, hovering, waiting for his brain to give the signal to pick it up and twist the handle. One moment has passed, two, three, before he let out a muffled groan and stepped back from the door in resignation. He's gone back to bed without a sound.

Maybe the frustration at two failed attempts to flee was what did it. There was no way of being entirely certain. The only thing that was for sure was that it came as a complete surprise to Regulus.

Sirius had pushed his seat across the ground with an awful screeching sound and left the dining room in silence. For a moment, Walburga tried to stand to call after him or perhaps follow him from the room, but she was stopped by a small tap on the wrist from her husband. Instead, Regulus darted up and after him. Nobody tried to stop him. He reached Sirius in the hallway, mere inches from the door.

“What are you doing?” The tiredness in his voice was typical by that point; it was almost exclusively reserved for Sirius and he didn't think he'd heard Regulus speak in any other way in years, not even when they were joking around. At the time when they did still joke around, that was. Sirius tightened his grip on the handle of his case -still not lifting it from the ground- and shook his head in what Regulus could only assume was disbelief.

“I'm going to James’, Regulus. Why else would I be standing at the door?” Admittedly it was a little curt but he was tired and just wanted to leave before he could chicken out or be stopped by his parents or Kreacher. “Just go back to dinner, you don't want to cause a scene.”

“Really? James’. You're with him every second you're at school and you can't even put aside a few hours for me? It feels like I haven't seen you in months, I don't know what you're doing in school, I don't know what drama is going on in your group, you haven't even asked me how I am and we've been home for 5 days.”

Sirius closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking similar to the way their father did when he was trying to remain calm about something while also wanting to let the person he was conversing with know that he found them pathetic. Regulus didn't know if that was what Sirius was trying to do or if he was simply stressed.

“You haven't spoken to me either, so don't put this crap on me, alright? I've been getting the silent treatment just as much as you have. If you want to sit miserably and pretend nobody loves you, you do that, but don't blame me. Go back to dinner and sit down or you'll get in trouble,” No response. “Reggie, go, please.”

Regulus’ nostrils flared slightly and the familiar name and he crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. He too didn't want to draw anybody else outside and start a screaming match but he wasn’t one to just drop something after he'd brought it up.

“Can we talk about it when you get back? Tomorrow?” Sirius looked at him with an expression akin to pity and Regulus could not help but roll his eyes. “Right. Have fun, then.”

“You cannot seriously think that this has come out of nowhere. I've been feeling like shit here since Andy ran and they decided I needed to be watched. Hell, it's been shit since I got sorted in first year. I can't stay here with their pathetic attitudes and their lack of compassion. I won't do it.”

“Hell?”

Sirius’ expression softened temporarily, it wasn't often that Reuus didn't know something, and it was even less often he asked for clarification on it.

“Muggle thing,” he explained before trying to return to the point at hand. “I'll see you at school.”

“No you won't.” Regulus interrupted sharply. “You never do. You always say that and then you spend all your time with James and Peter and whatever the other one is called and you never say hello. You never wave. It feels like I have to wait six weeks to see you again as it is and now you're saying I can't even have that time. It's like you don't think we're related.”

“That's just as much your fault as it is mine. You never put in any effort yourself. You don't come and find me, you don't send me notes asking about my day. You scrunch up your nose if I smile at you in a corridor. You're not some neglected puppy.”

Regulus had no answer to that accusation. He instead focused on stopping his eyes from stinging and looked up slightly, half to appear proud and half so he didn't have to watch Sirius pick up the case and open the front door. He heard a shuffle and then a pause. Then, Sirius was placing the case down and stepping over to him to loop his arms around his neck as lightly as he could possibly manage, resting his chin on the side of his brother's head. A few moments passed before Regulus’ brain caught up with the moment and he rested his hands on Sirius' back.

It was the first time they had hugged in years. Since they were seven, maybe eight at a push. The time had come years back where Regulus stopped finding hugs cool and so Sirius had played along and stopped bothering. For that reason, this was strange. It was different, like they'd never hugged each other before, the unfamiliarity added a level of awkwardness to the situation. Still, they stayed there for a while before Sirius stepped away, picked his case back up, and left without a further word, his eyes facing the ground.

Regulus went back into the dining room and told them the news of Sirius' departure before sitting back down at his place. They did not seem surprised.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Not bothering to send this on anon because I'm 75% sure no one in this story even has Tumblr, and I'm 100% sure the main person in the story hasn't used Tumblr since 2017.

AITA for not waking up my friend?

Asking this because a birthday of a deceased loved one is coming up soon and I would really feel like an asshole if I didn't text my friend, but we're not on speaking terms at the moment.

Okay, so story begins 5 days ago: me and some friends (all F between 22-24 years old) including me (24F) and B (23F) were going to hang out at a park near B's house. Everyone except B was ~1 hour drive away, but this park has a migrating species visiting this time of year, and this park was special because B's mom also took her there before she passed away when B was a teenager. So me and other friends drive up, and we are all in a group chat discussing what time we're leaving, so there are text records of when we left, but nobody texted an ETA to B until we got there. B's house is about 5 minutes away, so we figured it wasn't a big deal and she'd meet us soon, so we wait in the parking lot. An hour of us texting and calling her goes by with no responses from B, calls went straight to voicemail. Eventually, she texts back saying she just woke up (it was past noon at this point, and she had texted us ~10am) and that she was still in bed. We all decide to leave without her, and that's when she starts blowing up everyone's phones.

She eventually shows up and finds us, and she had clearly been crying. She started chewing us out on the walking path telling us we should have gone to her house to wake her up, or called her dad to wake her up. (She lives with her dad, but it was the middle of a work day, so I didn't even know he would be home.) She was very upset about us not waking her up and not telling her our exact ETA before we got there, but we were all kind of annoyed that we had waited so long for her too, so it was a very tense hang out.

I was willing to let it go, honestly, even though we've been fighting about a couple other things recently (that deserve their own post, but I know I'm not the AH in that one) and because I had a similar issue last year where I slept through a hang out, and I just ended up showing up late, no big deal. I actually apologized for sleeping through my alarms, which B has still not done. If she'd apologized and THEN said we should have told her our ETA, I would have apologized for that. I have not and do not plan to apologize for not waking her up or calling her dad, because I find that kind of thing childish, but if I'm ruled TAH, I will. I know one friend from the group is on ny side entirely, I don't know the opinion of the other.

We fought about the situation more that night, and after I said it was childish of me to call her dad to get her, she stopped responding. B did text me back the next day telling me she didn't have time to discuss then, but she'd text me back when she did, and now it's been radio silence for almost a week. Now B's mom's birthday is tomorrow, and I feel bad not saying anything to her. In past years we've always talked or hung out, because I know that day is especially hard for her. I definitely feel a little like TAH, but I'm also still mad. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[atreyucannamos]

So, I realise I haven't summed up the last few days.

I couldn't convince Praya to call off the duel. That hurt... a lot, but I sure as hell wasn't going to back out of it. Since she'd challenged me and four of my classmates who just happened to be standing nearby at the wrong time, she had the right to call in additional kuirassers to even the numbers. This included a number of Stone and Sand lackeys, a man who in the spirit of equanimity I shall decline to name, and Praya's fiance.

Oh, yes, Praya has a fiance - the Count Argo-Laurent of the House of Sand. That was news to me - uncle hadn't even bothered to tell me, and I suppose nobody in the family was going to go out of their way to keep me up to date either. As to the man himself, I think speaking my full mind on him would violate the College's code of conduct, so I shall confine myself to saying that I don't like him and I don't think they're a good match.

As for my team... well, I refrained from discussing them before, since I didn't want to bring down any additional misfortune upon them. Now, though, given the fact that we're officially a unit now, there's no longer any point in hiding it.

I... made some friends! First I've had in ten years. They all read this blog, so I will be courteous and cautious with my words.

From left, we have Lady Tuera Ashama of the House of Smoke. She's our electronic warfare and countermeasure specialist, and she pilots a . She's got a fair number of medals, from which I deduce she's probably the one of us with the most actual combat experience.

Then there's Lord Caelan Frostfounder of the House of Stone. He's our primary CQB operator, and I believe he uses a heavily modified IPS-N Raleigh variant? It had a name I couldn't even begin to pronounce. He's not what I expected from a fellow member of the House of Stone, but not for the reasons you might think - honestly, I'm far more surprised that he respects me even knowing who I am than the fact that he looks like a giant wolf that walks on two legs.

In the center, there's me - El-Ahrairah, the "Prince of a Thousand Kingdoms." Hah!

To my immediate right is Lord Delamar Leonasius of the House of Sand. He pilots a Harrison Armory Tokugawa that he pushes to the absolute limit of its tolerances, and occupies a role I would describe as "flexible combatant" - sometimes he's up close, sometimes he's at a great distance. Argo is a cousin of his, so we were both going into this fighting family.

At the right end is Lady Persephone Helsing of the House of Smoke. She's from a scientific background, and she was piloting an experimental mech for this fight. She's really sweet, does card readings as a hobby and is an augment like Caelan.

The duel was... brutal. We were outnumbered 7-to-5, which by College rules isn't supposed to happen. We had to come together as a team at the last minute simply because the four of them had been named alongside me in the summons, and we were unfamiliar with each others' tactics, loadout and combat style.

To make matters worse, I was still getting used to an entirely new frame, Assembler, which I had to switch to because my personal kuirass is still impounded by Throne Karakiz Customs and Excise because the paperwork my family was supposed to submit three weeks ago still hasn't been submitted. I still don't know what Assembler even is; it purportedly belonged to another student from the House of Stone, but almost all of its logbook is encrypted.

All I know for sure is that it's a drone control platform, and an incredibly unorthodox one. The moment I took it onto the field and put it into combat mode, it flew apart into about twenty distinct flock elements. It has no conventional armaments; instead, it has specialised nanoassemblers that flash-print disposable projectile weapons on the fly - kinetic impactors, explosive pellets, even single-use chemical lasers. Sometimes, using its systems makes me feel like my bones are turning into knives and tearing through my skin.

So while I was getting used to all of that, Persephone lost her mech to an ambush from Argo and one of his cronies - she did give him one hell of a kicking, though. Meanwhile, Caelan and Delamar had to take on Praya while one of the enemy operators was throwing out some intense ECM - but fortunately, once they took a few knocks, they punched out and the battle turned a little in our favour.

I was able to clear out some of the chaff, the dogsbodies Praya and Argo had hauled along, easily enough. I'm not ashamed to admit it, though - I froze when I had to take on Praya. She was piloting this brutal colossus of a mech that seemed to shrug off every blow it took from us. It took Delamar nearly blowing out his reactor to take her down - but he did it. Cut her mech clean in two.

Argo tried to drop Delamar afterwards, but between the remaining four of us, we took him out and brought down the final lackey to clinch the win. It was a hard-won fight, and we paid dearly for it, but as Delamar pointed out to me - we walked off the field down a mech. They walked off the field down every mech.

I don't know how things stand between me and Praya now. At least whatever matter prompted this duel is resolved, and... well, now people can see we're not pushovers. And I think I proved something to myself - despite everything, I do deserve to be here.

In the aftermath, we decided that if we weren't a team before, we are now. We even have a name: the Lunar Falcons.

For the first time in a very long while, I feel something like optimism. I desperately, desperately don't want to jinx it... but I think I remember how to hope again.

[narratedbyshama]

Long Way Home [Part XI]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.

Read Part 2 here. Read Part 8 here.

Read Part 3 here. Read Part 9 here.

Read Part 4 here. Read Part 10 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part XI

Azriel didn't try to talk about it again, and instead focused on recovering from the aches and tiredness. Every evening, I helped him into the bath with soothing oils as the villa's magic changed the bedsheets and covers and cleaned the bedroom. 

A couple of days later, I was working on the strawberry patch outside. When I looked up, Azriel was sitting on the porch wall, covered with thick shawls and panting like he had run all the way from Velaris. The tiredness and weakness took a while recover fully, but he had made tremendous progress. I thought of ordering him to go rest, but he would absolutely refuse, so I let him be. 

Nobody from Velaris visited us again. It was just the two of us for the next couple of days. Our conversations mainly consisted of his health, but I could see he was itching to really talk to me. He didn't attempt to talk about it however, and neither did I.

One evening, I was helping him into the sunken bath. I was about to leave when he was fully settled, but he stopped me by holding on to my wrist.

"Wait. Please." His hold was hesitant, loose enough that I could've pried myself free if I wanted to. 

I did not leave. Instead, I sat cross-legged on the floor next to the tub's edge and let my hand be in his grasp. 

"I panicked on the day I discovered we were soulmates. Really. I—I had been watching and yearning for you so long, it didn't feel real. I was ecstatic, but also a bit afraid of what it meant and I needed to fully accept grasp what had just occurred. I didn't realise how bad it looked until later. Like I was running away. I swear I wasn't. And you had left by the time I returned. I searched for you everywhere, until finally during Star fall I was on my knees begging your father to tell me where you were."

Our mating bond was pulsing strongly between us, and I could see scraps of his memories, his thoughts and feelings. The way he begged my father, the pain in my father's eyes as he finally succumbed to telling him the location. 

"I still got hurt. You never really talked to me to begin with, and I knew that I could never have a chance with you. I had fantasised of us being mates secretly, and I was so devastated when you left." My voice broke at this point as I started crying. 

Letting go of my hand, he looped an arm around my waist and pulled me into the water on his towel covered lap. I didn't resist, and my clothes stuck to my skin as they got wet. 

I sniffled and continued. "You were always there when Elaine needed help. Since Rhys and Cassian got the first two Archeron sisters as their mates, I thought you would get her."

He chuckled, but it wasn't mocking. "I helped her because I felt sorry for her. I was never interested in her. Nothing else existed for me since the day I saw you."

I blushed, opening my mouth to interrupt, but he wasn't done. He gently wiped my tears away as he spoke. 

"I didn't know how to approach you, and I always got flustered when you spoke to me. Instead, I foolishly watched you from the shadows. Do you think that your quarters being beside mine was a coincidence? I made a casual suggestion to the house keeper that the empty quarters next to mine would house you comfortably when you moved in. Whenever I wasn't on a mission and stayed there, I fell asleep to the sound of your breathing. I had to control myself from full-blown stalking whenever you weren't around."

Tears glistened in his eyes now, but he still wasn't finished. 

"Yow know that me and shadows can sing, right? Did you ever notice my shadows always strayed to you when you were near, and they always reacted with a faint, positive tune to your presence."

Now that he had said it, I remembered hearing faint trembles of music sometimes. 

"One night I saw you at the kitchen table, drawing. I was curious, and when I saw my hands as one of your sketches, I was so ecstatic. I never hated you, y/n. On the contrary, I loved you too much."

Hesitatingly, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips. He waited a moment to see what I'd do. When I did nothing, he captured my mouth in a more searing kiss. 

When we pulled apart, I buried my face into his neck and held him tight. He responded in kind, and his wings formed a warm cocoon around us. The mating bond pressed on me, waiting to be acknowledged. 

"I know you are hurt and angry at me. And I deserve all of it. Even though I practically ran away from you, you took me in and nursed me back to health. I'm honoured, and beyond happy that you are my mate, y/n. I couldn't have asked for a better mate. For you, I'd happily spend the rest of my days just sitting on your porch railing, just to catch a glimpse of you. Even if you are angry at me. Even if you never let me in."

I took a few moments breathing deeply and stop my tears before extracting myself from his neck. Gently smoothing back some of the hair from his eyes, I cupped his face with both hands. 

"I accept you as my mate, Azriel. I had already accepted it days ago, preparing and serving you meals with my own hands. I could never stay away from you for a long time."

He closed his eyes, and I felt the bond finally opening a steady channel between us. His relief washed over me as he pressed his forehead to mine. 

"Y/n, I am proud to be yours, both physically and mentally."

"Take me to bed, Azriel," I whispered as I kissed him again.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006 @fightmedraco @lees-chaotic-brain @thesunloveschips @jennamelinda12 @stonerpersona

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 12 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

[sevcasejay1chicago]

I still…. Kelly Severide

Summary: After six months apart, you finally break.

Warnings: mentions of fights, arsonists, and drinking.

Authors note: COMPLETELY based off a prompt list from @dumplingsjinson

Walking into Molly’s always felt like coming home. Though there were some new faces, you recognize many of the patrons from Firehouse 51, Med, and the Intelligence Unit. You had volunteered to go undercover on a four month assignment. Previously, you had been partnered with Jay Halstead, who now works with Hailey Upton. Hailey had been your contact since she was brand new, meaning nobody would know she was part of intelligence. She freely came in and out of your UC house, frequently spending time with you to make sure you were safe and staying sane.

Though four months turned into 6 months, when this opportunity came along, you thought it was nothing short of a blessing. You had just had your heart broken and you were looking forward to getting the hell away from him, but his shadow still lurked around every corner of your mind. Then again, it’s practically impossible to forget someone like Kelly Severide.

The memory of that night came flooding back as you and Kelly locked eyes for the first time in six months.

———

You just arrived home from work. It had been a rough day to say the least. Squad 3 had been on a call with intelligence. The arsonist was target the intelligence unit, mainly you and Jay due to the perp being a old CI that felt he got a bad rap. Kelly decided to throw the guy to the ground when he started yelling and spitting at you as Kevin was attempting to haul the guy to the squad car to pat him down before cuffing him.

Kelly jumped the guy, bringing Kev and the perp down with him. Kelly got a few good hits in before most of Squad finally got him off. Of course, you burst into tears as the weight of the day and the realization of what Kelly had just done made itself clear to you. Jay wrapped you in his arms and ushered you away before Kelly could get a word in.

You hadn’t been home for more than 5 minutes when someone pounded on your door. You grabbed your gun from the dresser and crept to the door, quietly looking through the peephole to see who the hell was banging on your door. Of course, it was Kelly.

You breathed a sigh of relief and slowly opened the door. “Hey Kel.” You whispered, tucking your gun in your waist band.

Kelly walked past you, not meeting your eyes. “We need to talk.”

You nodded, though Kelly still wouldn’t look at you. “I agree.” You whispered, moving to sit on the couch. “What you did today. That can’t happen.” You said, getting straight to the point.

“What?” Kelly said, lifting his eyes to meet yours, his face red as he silently seethed.

“I don’t need you taking down a suspect when we had it under control. Kev HAD him. You didn’t need to jump him just for yelling and spitting at me.” You shook your head. “It was embarrassing to say the least.”

Kelly threw his hands up before running one down his face. “I was standing up for you. I stood up for you. Then you went to Halstead and left with him without a second glance my way.” Kelly shouted, starting to pace as he spoke.

“What are you saying Kelly?!” You yelled back, pissed at his clear accusation.

“Do you like Jay or something? Cause it sure as hell seems like you want him more than me.” Kelly snapped, whirling around to face you head on.

You shook your head. “Oh hell no. After everything I put up with at the beginning of this relationship. The rumors of you being with other woman and having to build my trust in YOU. Now YOUR accusing ME of cheating on you with my partner who had to get me out of there because I was having a panic attack?! But NO you were too busy getting out of control and taking down Kev and the suspect.” You shook your head. “Get out Kelly. Just go. This is done. IM done.” You shouted, tears streaming down your face as you stood.

Kelly deflated, realizing he messed up. He knows about your struggles with anxiety and he knows that this case had been weighing on you and stealing your sleep. Hell, you had stayed at the firehouse multiple nights just to feel safe, sleeping in Kelly’s office while he did paperwork or snuggled up with him in between calls.

“Y/n.” Kelly whispered, coming closer to take you in his arms.

“No.” You shook your head, stepping around him and holding the door open for him. “Please. Just go.”

———

Now, six months later, you find yourself relieved to see that Kelly doesn’t have a girl wrapped in his arms. You have been replaying that night over in your head since the day you left. You’ve been hoping to get this opportunity, and it’s finally here.

You strode over to him, greeting everyone else at the table, before pulling him out to the patio. Kelly sat down, waiting as you downed two shots and then grabbed your favorite drink before sitting across from him.

“First, I need to get something off my chest before we really talk. I just need you to listen, okay?” You asked, not continuing until you got a nod. “I tried to forget you and us when I left, but I couldn’t. I-I can’t. I-I tried to get you out of my mind, thinking there was no way you still had me in yours. I still have your number memorized like the back of my hand. I dialed it many times while I was away, but it- it just didn’t feel right to say any of this over the phone. All I could think about was you. I still remember how you taste, t-the curve of you under my palms; every curve, and every line.” you stopped to catch your breath, tracing the lines in the palm of your hand as you spoke.”I still smell traces of you on my pillows. Your smell ingrained in the fabric, but mostly faded as these months went by. I still remember your little quirks,” you giggled,” which I still find so endearing, even though you find them annoying. I still remember our inside jokes and they kept me laughing through all the tough days. I still remember your favorite songs, the ones we used to sing out loud after you got over your embarrassment in being caught; those were on repeat when I needed to dance it out. I still remember your smile. The soft quirk to it. Like the one your wearing right now. I mean, how could I not? It was the brightest thing in my life.” you smiled sadly and took another deep breath to reign in your emotions before continuing. ”I still remember how you sound. Your sweet voice that you hated listening to when I recorded it, but it kept me afloat. I remember how you were there for me through thick and thin. I still remember how you would be there for me no matter what. I remember how our love was unconditional, un-Until it wasn’t.” you wiped a few tears before continuing. ”I remember that last fight, when everything went down hill. I still don’t fully understand it, b-but I’m trying.” you rushed to add.” I still think about you. Day in and day out. I-I still miss you. I still want you. I still n-need you.” You paused, wiping your tears away to see him clearly as you said,” I-I still love you.” You finished, breathing deep and trying to stay in control so that you wouldn’t break down sobbing.

Kelly sat through your whole speech, tears burning the back of his eyes as he watched you. He could see the difference this undercover op made in you. You were still you, but something bad happened to you while you were under. He could see it.

Kelly stood, smiling sadly as he approached you. He sat down, taking you into his arms as you finally broke down. “I still love you too sweetheart.” Kelly whispered, rocking you back and forth once you got yourself situated in his lap. “Shhhhh. I’ve got you now. It’s over. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

@alicexvrose

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 next: Part 6

a bit of a weirdly chill chapter this time. might take a break after this part but my brain is always on you know like a liar creative mode so who the hell knows xD

“Have you seen my nephew?”

“Has my nephew stopped by here recently?”

“Did he mention anything worrying?”

“If you see him, call me by this number, would ya?”

Wayne’s never been much of a theatre boy unlike Eddie, but he supposes he knows how the extra actors feel when they have to repeat their few lines over and over for their plays.

Eddie’s not anywhere in town. Nobody has seen him last night or this morning. Some of the people he’s asked look at him strangely and say why should he even be worried.

A part of Wayne wants to grab them by the collar and shake them and furiously spit on their faces while he cries out, “Shouldn’t you be worried if your own child disappears and might be hurt!”

He doesn’t do that.

He keeps his head down as he says his lines and leaves.

He checks at Hawkins General Hospital, something he’s been putting off since he drove off and left the police chief at the dirt. He reckons that if Eddie’s hurt, he could’ve at least have the sense to run in here.

But the nurse at the front desk shakes her head with a frown and says nobody with Eddie’s description came in.

He says his lines and leaves.

He starts checking the spots Jeff had listed for him.

The first is some old picnic table close behind the high school. When Wayne gets there, there’s a few students loitering. They see him and quickly scramble off. He calls out for them but they don’t look back. He eyes at the table, absent of any sign of Eddie, and leaves.

He goes to the rest on the list.

Some spot in the forest called Skull Rock. The abandoned Creel house. A gas station out of town.

Eddie’s not at either of them.

The Hideout is the last one he visits.

Wayne prays to heaven above this is where his boy’s at. But he doesn’t see him. The bartenders only confirm that while Eddie has make visits before (“not a bad band, by the way. Vocals need a little work though.”), he’d only came for an hour on Halloween night last week.

He gives the bartenders his lines and leaves.

At this point, Wayne’s considering looking far out of town. Bloomington’s close.

But it’s already nearing four in the afternoon, his gas needs a refill, and he feels so tired. It is God’s miracle that his body hasn’t collapsed yet, even in the drive back to Hawkins. He feels a bit grateful that today is his day off, but he has to call the plant later for a few more days off.

The sun starts to set as Wayne pulls over to the house. His mind is starting to get fuzzy from exhaustion and hunger so he walks inside automatically.

He even hollers out, “I’m home!” A vain attempt to hear Eddie’s response.

Only silence greets him.

Wayne sighs, worrying a thumb over his front temple as he readies the pullout couch. Then he stops himself. Looks down the hall to where Eddie’s bedroom door remains close.

He walks down and carefully opens the door. When he peeks through, he sees the hundreds of memories of catching Eddie doing whatever boys like to do on their own: Eddie writing in his notebook, Eddie playing the guitars, Eddie reading a stolen dirty magazine, Eddie dancing to that loud headthrashing music, Eddie staring up at the ceiling depressed, Eddie smoking, Eddie crying from a bad day.

This time Eddie’s not here.

Wayne shuffles to the bed - mindful of the messy clothes thrown about, Eddie we talked about this - and gently lays himself on top of the unkept blankets. His feet barely hang over the edge as he stretches. There’s a faint smell of sweet cigarette smoke as he breathes in.

When Wayne finally falls asleep, the memories surround him comfortably and he feels the phantom weight of Eddie hugging him tightly.

He prays that his nephew will still be hugging him, living and breathing and safe.

—

As they walk to Mirkwood, Eddie thinks it’s safe to say he and Will are little more prepared.

They’ve stopped at one of the houses on the way to stock on bottled water (thankfully drinkable, man they were parched) and weapons. Well, their ‘weapons’ were really just some knives. But Will had skillfully crafted a couple into spears by tying the handles with twine on the ends of broomsticks.

At least Eddie could sweep the demogorgon off its feet should it come back.

(Will groans first at the joke before laughing. Then he laughs even louder when Eddie cries in mock betrayal over the loss of his jester skills.)

He also snags a backpack from some guy’s bedroom so Will won’t break his back carrying the cans. They’d both nearly gagged when some rotten-smelling goop and wrinkled algebra textbooks were shaken out.

Will also brings up a couple startling facts about this hellish environment.

“I think the vines are a hive mind.”

Eddie had nearly dropped the water he’s holding to clean his cut. It’s not bleeding badly anymore, but he doesn’t want it get infected. “I’m sorry, what?”

“A hive mind. Like the vines are alive and they’re some messengers to the monster.” Will waves his hands around a bit as he speaks, though he keeps lowering them to his lap. “Remember when the demogorgon was outside your place and it only came in right after you stepped on a vine? It’s probably how it knows where we are.”

Eddie slowly moves his feet away from one particular thick vine. He breathes out a whoosh. “No stepping on vines. Easy enough.”

“I think these are spores too.”

“What?”

Will blows away a few speckles of ash from his face. “I thought this was snow, but… I’m more convinced it’s spores.” He stops to cough and fuck, that throws Eddie’s anxiety up into goddamn Mars because none of this was even fucking ash.

There’s no kind of gear around in this house or the one next door to keep them from inhaling more of this stuff. So Eddie grabs the cleanest shirts he could find, rips them into bandana-style masks, and fits them over his and Will’s face.

Eddie hopes to god that they don’t already have lung cancer and can at least live for another few decades.

It’s also on the way to Mirkwood that they really get to know each other.

Eddie learns that Will loves his mother and older brother from the moon to back. That he’s been drawing since he was practically born and wants to be an artist. That he has a secret hideout called Castle Byers. That he has a trio of best friends that he bikes to school and play DnD with and who are definitely also looking for him.

Eddie doesn’t give his whole life story (like he really wants to trauma dump on the kid, no thank you), but he does share a few things about himself. Will’s eyes are bright when he talks about playing guitar and a new hobby of sewing band patches on his denim jacket. He also speaks fondly of Uncle Wayne. (“I wish I had a cool uncle with Garfield mugs.” Will says with a wistful sigh) Though the ache in his ribs nearly shutter his voice away when he recalls the truck engine driving away.

“Ya know that if you ever go missing, I’ll search even the lands of Hell for you.”

He said that yesterday, didn’t he? Then why hasn’t Eddie heard from him? Why isn’t Wayne been trying like Will’s mother apparently been doing?

He stamps down the nasty feelings down he hasn’t felt since he was eleven and instead talks about summer visits to his extended family in Alabama.

“Wait, so you’re from the countryside? Like a farm boy and stuff?” Will asks with a tilt of his head.

Eddie cackles and ruffles Will’s hair. “A farm boy? Well, maybe for the help, but it’s a job I will never do even when I’m retired. Haystacks and cow smell are too much for me.” He points a mock accusing finger at Will. “Also wipe out any classist stereotypes from your precious brain. I don’t want to hear any questions about lack of running water or food or schools because we do have them. That’s right-wing businessmen propaganda for ya.”

Will nods seriously. Though he keeps whispering “Alabama” under his breath like it’s a magic word. Eddie lets that one slide. Alabama is a nice name to say a lot.

They finally reach to what Eddie assumes is the Byers residence. It looks worn down with the darkness and vines. He grabs the handle of Will’s backpack to keep him from running into sudden doom.

“Environment check, Little Byers.” Eddie says in his DM voice.

Will huffs but he stops moving and glances around. After a moment, he announces, “No demogorgon in sight!” Then quietly, “So far.”

Eddie lets go of him and moves in front, broomstick spear brandished. He walks carefully over the vines, not willing to make the same mistake in his house.

Oddly, the front door to the Byers’ is already open. It makes Eddie’s guts turn with unease. He slowly steps inside, nearly dying of a heart attack when he hears something from the kitchen. Then relaxes when he realizes that it’s actually some normal people chattering.

“Mike’s been taking this hard. I know it’s ridiculous to say that, Joyce, but he really cares about his friends. And Will going missing is making him act out a bit. But he’s been looking too.”

“Oh, that’s.. uh, sweet of him..”

Will brushes past Eddie as he goes inside. The kid stands in the living room, staring at the kitchen where the voices are coming from. Then he runs down the hall, looks up, and starts jumping up with a hand outstretched.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Eddie calls out. His eyes automatically lower to the ground where Will’s jumping on. The floor is surprisingly spacious from vines, but he doesn’t want any risks or a heart attack.

“Trying.” Will pants out with every jump. “To get. Lights.”

Eddie looks around, both inside and outside before carefully walking over to Will. He watches for a minute, glancing dubiously at the very dead lightbulb in the ceiling. Then he scoops up Will in his arms. Damn, twelve year olds are heavy.

“Okay, that’s enough hopping, Little Byers.” He’s about to move away - to where in the house he doesn’t really know - when a small orange flash makes him pause. It’s a literal ‘blink and you miss it’ but he swears he sees it.

He looks at Will, who’s staring intently at the ceiling light. His fingers brush against it. Then it happens again. The orange glow, this time blinking long enough to be noticed.

A small gasp falls out of Eddie’s lips. Will excitedly taps at his shoulder and points to a door at the end of the hall. He obliges.

It’s a bedroom, clearly for Will’s mom. Eddie’s not sure what to look for, but Will points again. This time, at a spot at the foot of the bed. “Right there. See?”

Eddie doesn’t see but slowly makes his way anyway.

Will scrambles out of his arms and holds out his hands, eyes furrowed in concentration. Then, faintly like a spell, small dots of glowing orange appear. One by one like a fairy doing tiptoes.

Eddie’s certain that his jaw falls to the floor. He’s so entranced that he doesn’t even startle when the voices suddenly move behind him.

“Holly! I’m sorry, she always wanders off-”

“No, no, it’s okay. But.. did she- did you see something?”

The glowing disappears. One is still present, beaming from Will as he smiles under his mask, “Told you the lights work.”

It doesn’t take too long for Eddie to find his voice again, “Ho-ly. Fuck.”

— —

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