#he gets to chose what he’ll do next and NOT FATE

[olasketches]

the fact that megumi was supposed to be the MC makes me giddy as hell. ITS ALL COMING TOGETHER GUYS

[ma1dita]

asking for trouble

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader words:  7.8k prev -> when the curtains close | next -> as above so below summary: (post-TLT, compliant to TLO) The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all) a/n: non-descriptive mentions of blood and war, main character death. angst. a boyfriend that yall may or may not agree with. one chapter left after this!! i imagined the last scene to play out with luke in a room where they have the immersive exhibits at a museum

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[august 15th; camp half-blood kitchens, long island, new york — 9:49 pm]

Everything begins and ends with love if we are fortunate enough.

There’s a stillness that fills the air the night before what historians and future demigods alike will deem the Battle of Manhattan. It’s stifling—suffocating in the silence of the camp kitchens as you cover a sheet cake with blue frosting, piping the edges with a steady hand as you check the clock, time always ticking over your shoulder.

Almost lights out.

The circumstances are different now though, and surely no one will be able to sleep soundly tonight. Fate is hard at work unraveling the future, the gods and their spawn alike are preparing for war, yet you’re here putting sprinkles on Percy Jackson’s birthday cake.

It’s the most nonsensical thing you’ve done all week amidst the war preparations, taming the whirlwind of mixed emotions that shook camp in the days before. Perhaps it comes with the knowing that everything will change, and the only way out is through. Only the lucky ones get to go home after this.

“Are you really not coming with us tomorrow?”

Clarisse chuckles at your question from her position against the doorway, crossing her arms and watching you stick candles on the top of the sweet dessert. Her hands flex over her sleeves, tugging at the fabric like she needs to hide away from the rest of the world, “You make it sound like it’s a walk in the park instead of what it really is.”

“Is that why then?” You look up from your piping bag raising an eyebrow at her, “We need all the help we can get, Risse.”

“It’s a death wish. I don’t know how you do it grandma, but the world will keep spinning no matter if 5 shows up or not,” Clarisse mutters, rolling the words around in her mouth, “How do you do it? Knowing that he’ll be there…I-I don’t want Chris to put himself through that again. We’re going to lose anyway—something, if not everything.” 

You know that too.

There’s something ironic about how the children of war won’t be joining the fight of their lives, but Clarisse La Rue is as stubborn as a mule when she doesn’t get her way. Only something truly special would send her running to the battlefield at this point.

“A part of me feels obligated to be there and help fix it, Risse. This is the path I chose.”

She scoffs, her sneakers knocking against the side of the kitchen island. The daughter of Ares is wistful, hesitant… and nothing like herself tonight. You suppose conflict shapes someone like her like how insanity lines the essence of your being. Intangible, but the base of every choice—the driving reason connecting you to your godrents. 

“Yeah, I know that, but I still don’t get it. You don’t have to be here anymore,” she says thoughtfully, moving the cylinders of sprinkles around on the counter by height order, then by colors of the rainbow, “you could’ve chosen the easy life without all of this…I mean, if I ever got out of here alive, I wouldn’t look back.” The statement is sharp in the silence as if she’d attacked you with Maimer. Your eyes meet hers as if there’s a big secret she’s missing out on. You always look at them like that now, with a faraway gaze of a place none of them can reach.

“Who’s to say? Getting old and aging out of here is harder than you think, you know… College, rent, taxes…” you list off with every squeeze of the piping bag, spelling out Percy’s name with white frosting. Clarisse bites her lip, resting her chin against the palm of her hand as she watches you.

When she closes her eyes at night, she often dreams of being home in Arizona, dry heat prickling at her cheeks and dust swirling at her ankles. That’s what her future will look like, she thinks—and she’ll let herself be selfish if it means she gets what she wants. What do you dream of? Do you think about a future for yourself if you’re so worried about saving everyone else’s?

“But you still came back. Is this easier than that?”

Not easier, but familiar. Nothing you ever want comes easy after all. There is a comfort in walking the grounds of a camp counselor job you used to dread instead of filling out job applications; easier to you means fighting with the gods and slaying creatures of old instead of paying student loans and making rent. 

“I think you’ll find out that you do stupid things for love, Clarisse La Rue.”

She’ll never tell you this, but you’re the strongest person she knows. You’ve shown her that strength doesn’t always mean brain or brawn. Sometimes strength is loving someone without expecting anything in return, and the gnawing feeling in her stomach eats at her in an unsatisfying way—like Tantalus reaching for the grapevine, fingertips grazing the leaves for eternity.

Instead, Clarisse wipes down the counter with a Clorox wipe as you make your way towards the door, cake in hand. Tonight, she and her siblings will sleep with the knowledge that they’ll get to see another day. Call her selfish, sure—but that’s how she loves them. Alive.

“I still stand ten toes behind the fact that Michael Yew can be knocked down a fucking peg,” she mutters. There’s a small smile on her face and when she looks up at you, she sees your face is illuminated by moonlight. Clarisse hopes this won’t be the last time—silently praying to her father to extend his hand onto you.

“I’ll see you when I see you, La Rue.”

Whenever that is, she thinks. This is easier than a goodbye. What matters is showing up. What matters is that they try. That’s what she reminds herself as she turns off the big light and heads toward Cabin 5. 

Does any of that still matter in the end if they aren’t alive?

Her siblings are already asleep when she tucks herself into bed despite the music and laughter coming from 12. Light from across the way filters through her window, a warm glow cast across her face leaking through even when she shuts her eyes. It warms her, reminds her of the orange of the stupid shirts they wear, sunsets on Fireworks Beach, and the molten lava that drips down the climbing wall. 

Home might not be what she remembered it to be after all these years. Clarisse decides to sleep on it, hoping that when they wake, there’ll be something worth fighting for.

[august 15th; cabin 12, long island, new york — 10:08pm]

Camp Half-Blood is quiet as you walk through the dark forest, minding your step over the brambles and checking off your mental list of responsibilities before day breaks. The air is especially cool for a summer night, melancholy being your only jacket as you move on auto-pilot. Your fingers tighten around the tray you hold, pushing the door open to Cabin 12 which currently houses most of your campers. It’s lively and bright in here—you would think they’re all celebrating a Capture the Flag win instead of being sent off to their deaths for the greater good.

Tomorrow, they’ll wake up soldiers.

The wood creaks beneath your boots and it’s drowned out by the sound of soft chattering and laughter, a few of them still scuffling over sleep spots, and then—”HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY!”

There are only enough people in here to comfortably fit in a few of the strawberry trucks tomorrow—some went home to their parents to avoid the chaos and some chose not to fight at all. And the ones that remain— all 40 of them, that is, are spread out on the floor in sleeping bags writhing like worms. All the whooping and cheering is accompanied by Michael leading his siblings in song (and Connor and Travis ruining it by chanting CHA CHA CHA!). 

Percy is just shy of sixteen now, but the sheen in his blue eyes still reflects the tranquility of open water and something tender that you saw in him when he came to camp at twelve years old. Later, through mouthfuls of cake and smears of blue buttercream on his cheek, the son of Poseidon looks up at you thoughtfully, “Is this a pity cake?” He tries to make light of the situation by acting like the fate of the world doesn’t depend on his life or death, and you take a deep breath. 

Even demigods fall victim to fate, and the gods still push on. But what of their children that fight for change in the world they set the rules for; their children that fight their battles for them and lose their lives for immortal beings that live forever?

“This is a birthday party, not a pity party, Percy Jackson. There's no pity for the damned,” you chuckle. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t. All of the world’s problems seem so permanent when you’re 15 years old. It’s just fucked up that his will actually alter the course of humanity.

“And if this is the end of the world, I just wanted to make sure we’ve told you happy birthday first.”

“Well thanks,” Percy mumbles over a spoonful of buttercream, face reddening when Annie throws a paper towel roll at his face, “Hey!” It reminds you a lot of when you and Luke would fight in the dining pavilion, chicken tenders and mac n’ cheese flying through the air, and apples cut just the way you like.

You blink. 

It all boils down to him or Luke.

“Wipe your face, Seaweed Brain!”

Percy rolls his eyes, smiling down at his plate regardless of the weight he carries upon his shoulders. The more you want to live the more you have to lose, you think as you brush your knuckles against a spot of frosting he missed. You don’t look at the blonde boy and see a hero of the Great Prophecy—still, you see him as the little boy who was mesmerized by you conjuring strawberries on his plate on his first day at camp, innocent and honest. 

Looking around the room wistfully at that thought, you start to see the memories of their childhood blanket all of themlike ill-fitting clothes; it’s all you can notice. The feeling is so big it swallows you whole. Annabeth is still the little girl who’d rattle off obscure facts from Snapple bottle caps from her time on the road, drawing pictures of buildings with your eyeliner after sneaking into your room. Silena still makes blush out of berry juice and would call you about boy problems as if she’s not a child of the goddess of love herself. Will is still the boy who sings as he lights up fireflies and draws smiley faces on bandages. Katie, the girl who makes flower crowns for your birthday and eats strawberries with you soaked in morning dew. You look around and see scraped knees that you’ve kissed better, sleepy eyes you’ve sung to, and hearts you’ve kept warm—this is your glory, your greatest achievement being the family you’ve found in the woods of the Long Island Sound.

“You see it too?” Grover mumbles, nudging you and you sigh, squeezing his shoulder. Sometimes you forget the satyr is older than you; he stands tall as your pillar of support, unwavering in his promise to protect these kids. 

“We’re getting old, man.”

“You’re only 23. There’s so much left of you,” he deadpans. Laughter comes out of you in waves as you shake your head smiling.

“And what a pleasure it’s been to grow up with you.” 

Grover bids you a good night as you walk up the stairs to your old room, phone in hand while you dial a familiar number. Your boyfriend answers before the end of the first ring.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up!”

Settling against the windowpane near your bed, a soft smile graces your features and you realize he’s not there to see it. It’s always been easy with him—Dex was unbelievably kind, and he had a heart that he’d share without you having to ask. He was unlike any man you’d ever encountered before, and over the past year and a half you found it easy to love him. 

Worst of all, he’s utterly devoted to you. At least every part of you that you were willing to give him, even if it wasn’t all of you per se. Plus, you saw the ring in his desk drawer last week.

It was too…good to be true.

You recognize that this was your way out like Clarisse said, your escape from the turbulence that was your life as a demigod. But it was hard to believe that you were deserving of it. He’d never know of the ichor that runs through your veins, and the life you’d have to leave behind to truly be with him. You suppose every love you’ve ever had was sacrificial. You just wonder if because of that, easy makes it hard to feel real.

Maybe if you survive this one you’d tell him the truth. But for now, he’s rambling in your ear about his sudden work trip upstate. Morpheus and Hypnos are already at work then, redirecting the city dwellers out of Manhattan. It must be later than you thought already and in a few short hours, Apollo will be shining his rays across the Island for what you hope won’t be the last time.

“I wish I was with you right now,” you mutter in a hushed tone, and you hear him laugh breathily through the static sound of the phone. It’s easy to imagine him twirling the telephone cord between his fingers, flopped over the tiny loveseat you went halfsies on with your first big paychecks. The apartment you both moved into after graduation is more accurately a shoebox—but it’s yours, and the love you have for it is immeasurable in comparison to the square footage. You hum, listening to the sound of his voice, “Maybe I can catch you before I go—stop by and say hi before I drive up.” 

He won’t. By morning, you’re not even sure if he’ll remember you—all traces of Greek gods and their counterparts wiped clean from memory until it’s all over, whenever that is. You’re mindlessly walking in circles around your room, bare feet padding against the floorboards. He repeats your name and you realize you haven’t been paying attention, the tail end catching your ear, “Hmm?”

“Or you could come to me. I’m sure your dad won’t mind. It’s time I meet him, don’t you think?” 

And out of anything happening tomorrow, that especially sounds like a nightmare so you make a noise of disagreement, “I can’t. You know I can’t, honey. I’ve got…” your voice trails off as your lilac eyes land on a faded photo strip thumbtacked to your wall, “unfinished business to deal with.” There’s nothing left but inky silhouettes on the sun-damaged paper, two past lovers huddled together. But you know what it’s a picture of. Rye Playland, you and Luke at fifteen, cheek to cheek and covered in wisps of cotton candy.

“Mm. Sounds important. Does your unfinished business have a name?” 

Dex sounds playful now, teasing despite the silence on your end of the line. A beat passes, and then another, and he can hear the sound of your hands rifling through the things in your desk drawer. The dragon scale necklace is cold in your palm. 

For good luck, you think. 

It’s been a while since you’ve worn it—keeping it safe in the only home you and Luke shared, and as soon as it touches your neck, you feel a little less empty inside. It feels like a safety blanket, protecting you from whatever might come next. You almost feel guilty to be relieved.

Thumbing the cord absentmindedly, you mutter, “You don’t even know the half of it, Dex.” 

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me.” Sometimes, it’s like he knows— Dex must be the ivy that grows over the walls you’ve built up around yourself, and he can see glimpses of who you try to hide behind your stone-cold resolve. He wonders if you’ll ever tell him about the names you call out at night— an indistinguishable language he’ll never fully understand. He wonders where you’ve gotten your constellation of scars and where your mind goes when you sit next to the window and stare at the skyline.

Oh, he wonders.

The glow-in-the-dark stars are faded now on the ceiling when you look up at them, fighting to give their last bits of light. You wonder too, if there’s any fight left in you; a bit of Luke always remains—he’s everywhere you look. You can feel him as night falls upon New York, bidding you goodnight before it crumbles tomorrow. 

“Maybe. Good night, honey.”

Dex yawns into the receiver. You know his feet are kicked up onto the coffee table even though you always tell him he shouldn’t, and that his glasses are already off for the night. You really think he could be a nice guy to end up with, all things considered. Dex was the epitome of normal, and after almost two and a half decades of existence, it’s quite evident that you are anything but. 

Normal might be quite nice.

He yawns again. Hypnos must have reached his window, “I love you, you know that?”

“I do. Me too. Good night.”

It’s the truth. 

You love this man and the spaces he’s filled within the chaos of your life. You love all of him, from the perfectly normal way he makes breakfast for you every morning (and laughs when he burns the toast), and takes the train to work at a middle school in Harlem (“6th grade ELA takes a lot out of a man,” he jokes). He picks you up from your job at the therapist’s office downtown if you get out too late, as a gentleman would (though you’ve fought monsters that he’d scream at the sight of). Once upon a time, normal was exactly what you used to wish for.

There’s a moment where your breath hitches and you sink against your pillow and you wonder if he would love all of you—demigod and all. Could he get used to this— summers at Camp Half-Blood with chariot races and gladiator-style fighting, pegasi and harpies roaming the grounds, and watersports with woodland nymphs? Dex never even questions your green thumb or how Pollux made him hallucinate your dead brother when he came to visit (“It’s what Castor would’ve wanted! The full twin-terrogation!” he insists. You convinced your boyfriend he got food poisoning that night). Could you come clean about knowing how to slay a chimera, or why you never get drunk, and have the stamina of an Olympian (the athletic kind, but not too far off from the truth)? 

But it shouldn’t be called coming clean. That makes it sound like you’re ashamed of who you are—which you’re not. You’ve just been hiding this part of you from a normal human that you love very much.

Gods, is this how your dad felt when he was seeing your mom? 

Somehow insanity has always felt bearable—love, however, has always been such an ordeal.

The phone bounces onto your bedspread once you hang up the call. There is no more time to worry about playing a part. Tomorrow, everyone comes as they are—whatever happens after will be a problem if you reach another day. Fate has its way of making itself known, you know that by now. Blinking, you take a deep breath, and very intentionally, with your feet criss-cross applesauce, you pray—for what, you still try to figure out as the minutes tick by. 

Better late than never.

Here at camp, you were always the last one up after lights out, anyway. Tonight of all nights shouldn't be any different.

[august 16th; 34th street and herald square, manhattan, new york — 9:17 am]

“Where do you think you’re going, mister!”

Your little brother flinches, immediately turning tail and walking across the deserted street to meet you in the middle. He’s taller than you now, craning his neck down to look at your angry glower as you thrust a finger into his face, “You’re sticking with me.”

“Jake said he’s taking 9 and 12 to the Holland Tunnel,” Pollux calls out, shuffling his feet and you punch his arm hard, “OW! —It’s what Percy wants.” He swats your hand away for good measure, his arm guards clanking against yours when he dodges another swing at his head.

“We are Cabin 12, you shithead. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second.” Your staff is heavy against his shoulder and Pollux can’t help but let his gaze wander to where Jake Mason and the other children of Hephaestus are waiting for him a block over. Manhattan is a warzone, and the difference between fighting empousai and fighting his older sister right now is very similar in theory—hard to do alone. The tunnel is halfway across the city from the Empire State Building—if something were to happen to either of you…

"M’not here to fight,” he sighs, “with you at least. I need to do my part, sissy.” The old nickname is an arrow through your heart and you grab Pollux’s hand, “I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I couldn’t get to you in time.”

“HEY 12! You coming, or what?”

The two of you look towards the small army down the block, both of your hands intertwined like grapes from the same vine. You’re not sure if you can let go; you’re not sure if your father could lose another child. But Pollux’s face is almost set in stone—he’s never been more sure of himself. Your lip wavers, forcing itself into a stiff smile and he softens at the sight, “I’ll be okay.”

“And if you’re not? Then what?”

He shrugs, “Then… then I’ll get to see Castor.”

You nod, breathing shakily, and flinching when Jake calls for Pollux again, “Well. If you are okay…You come find me. After this is over, you come straight back home to me. You got it?”

Pollux hugs you, hard—the force of all of him sending you sprawling into his arms and it knocks the wind out of you. As the twins have grown, it’s been rare for them to show you any affection. They’d usually recoil or whine about how mushy their older sister is, and each time it makes you laugh. But right now, you stand there gripping onto his t-shirt, breathless; the ringing in your ears gives way to words he mumbles into your hair, “I love you,” he says, in case you didn’t already know. 

Just in case this is goodbye. You take it in for a moment longer, running a hand through his blond hair and cupping his cheeks as you finally step away, “I love you. I’m so proud of you, P. We all are.”

“Haven’t done anything yet,” he grins, backing away slowly, a skip in his step as he nears the small troop of Hephaestus kids. You wave them off, blowing a kiss as they band together and turn in the other direction.

Why is it that you can only be proud of someone if there’s something to prove it?

You think about all 40 of your campers fighting for their lives in the greatest city in the world. The sound of hellfire, roaring monsters, and screams that could only come from your kids. Fatigue wears you down with each swipe of magic towards enemy forces, monsters writhing in pain at your feet, demigods reduced to insanity and blood-curdling screams. It disgusts you even more so that no one can witness the weapon you've been forced to become.

After all, no one knows any of you were there. Life continues on outside of the bubble containing the Battle of Manhattan. And only the ones fighting will be able to remember this. Only you will remember the blood you spilled to wrestle for your destiny.

The rest of the city continues to sleep, safe from the people who swore to protect it.

[august 17th; empire state building, manhattan, new york mount olympus, in the sky above new york??? — 11:22 pm]

Running up 492 flights of stairs was another type of hell you didn’t expect to put yourself through, but it was faster than waiting for the elevator to Olympus. It’s quiet besides the steady rush of blood pumping in your ears, your boots slapping against the tile to reach your friends who might be in danger at the hands of someone you know well. But it’s too late to give up when you’re so close—you realize you’re praying to anyone who’ll listen as you push through the pain of always being a little too late. 

“Ugh!”

Air pierces through your lungs painfully as you trip up a landing, hands clawing against the banister. Have you been running in place this whole time, quick to start but hard to follow? Your lip quivers, eyes trailing up the stairwell faster than your legs can take you. 

Whatever the outcome, you’ll be better for it, you hope.

It’d be easier to give up. To stay away and not watch Percy fight for his life against him. You dry heave as you press your head against the wall, wondering if it’s worth not seeing what will become of this wretched prophecy. It’s hard to survive loving the villain when the rest of the world is dying because of it. Your legs feel like jelly underneath you, and not a single soul in Manhattan knows you’re here—until you feel the strength of an old traveler lift you up and revitalize your soul. Looking down to see your boots retie themselves tightly, the feeling in your chest reminds you of him. Everything leads back to Luke, and you think wherever he is now—Hermes knows that too. 

“Thank you,” you mutter. He’s handpicked your prayer through the tempest that hangs over Manhattan so that maybe your hands will be gentler in smiting his lost son. You find yourself with the nerve to run up the last dozen flights of stairs, pushing past the entryway to see Thalia Grace under a statue of her stepmother, “THALIA!” You barely make it to her fallen form before her free arm tries to push you away from the rubble.

“Get out of here! I mean it—” Thalia spits out your name through gnarled teeth and bones crunching under the heavy hands of Hera. The statue lays over the bottom half of her body, holding her legs down like how one forms a fist, and the daughter of Zeus pushes through pain and millennia worth of her dad’s karmic debt in giving her life—the essence of being a forbidden child still has a hold on her, even now. 

“I’m not gonna…leave you…”

With everything in you, both demigod strength and sheer desperation, you push at the unmoving stone and your fingernails begin to splinter from the pressure. 

But you know what it feels like to get left behind. 

Desolation slowly sets in your bones, a hollow feeling that spreads through your core as sweat rolls down your cheeks, and when you sniff to wipe it away, Thalia’s lip quivers. She’s writhing in pain and everything is coming to an end down the hall from where you stand. 

“We’re so close, Grace. I’m not giving up on you when we’re this close. I need you in there with me so you just hold on, okay?”

The marble is cool to the touch under your moist hands, and her face is fixed in a grimace as she looks up at you and sees you for who you are—another demigod who was never given a fair chance at fate but with a spirit of a hero waiting for the right chance. Thalia coughs before slapping your hand away, “LISTEN TO ME! I’ll be okay. He needs you to be there. We’re almost out of time!” 

You barely register your body moving as you get up and start to run, looking back at Thalia by the time you’re at the top of the landing. There are no words that you could imagine to string together when your eyes meet hers in the distance that separates you two—the feeling of grief bearing down as you both know the end is near and inside those doors.

As you turn back around, you take a moment to wonder if you might’ve had different people in mind for who’s up there waiting for you.

[august 17th; the hall of gods, mount olympus, the sky above new york— 11:48 pm]

Finally pushing through the heavy doors of the Hall of Gods, your eyes burn like salt in a wound as you travel toward the center to see three figures laid out on the marble mezzanine. There’s a cramp in your calf by the time you reach them, your legs giving way as you skid to a stop in front of Luke’s corroded body. The pain doesn’t register for you, split skin going numb as you stare into the eyes of a storm you fell in love with almost ten years ago. 

A stranger is no longer wearing your love’s skin. Percy and Annie’s eyes feel heavy against your back as they watch you sigh in relief, a landslide of emotion rolling off of you when you see he’s still breathing, even faintly, as if he waited for you to make it back to him.

“It’s Luke,” Annabeth chokes out, “the scythe transformed into Backbiter and I knew it was him. He was fighting for us.” Her voice makes you flinch, makes this more real—it echoes as the wind carries it through the hall. Without a doubt in your mind, you know it’s him by the way he looks at you with tired eyes, soft and amber—the light pushing away the shadows and he reaches out for you. His skin is paled by the River Styx, face weathered by the Titan as you gently guide his head onto your lap. A pathetic cry slips from your mouth when you realize there’s more pressure in the fingers he brushes against your cheekbone versus the one holding the blade embedded in his chest. 

Fuck, what do you even say? 

He’s dying right in front of you and you can’t think of a single word to say.

The clock is ticking and every breath of his comes out weaker––he speaks before you can find the words, breathing out, “I missed you,” like it was a relief to say it. And it all comes spilling out like a secret you’ve been safeguarding since the day he left— a mix of your tears and his blood smearing across your cheek as he reaches out to wipe them ever so gently. You find yourself smiling in the face of death itself—smile even if the both of you can feel death’s hand on him saying that time is finally up because the act of meeting each other here in the middle makes the years you’ve gone without him worthwhile. 

The reunion is also the loss; a nasty habit you’ve both fallen into over the years. But this time, Luke’s finally able to give you the world he wanted to see just before he leaves it.

You clutch him close without intending to let go, purple eyes scavenging for confirmation that this is your Luke, the one who pushed you through the brambles of the North Woods, wind in his hair and mischief in his smile. He’s citrus and musk, cunning smiles, something sacred kept within cabin 11, calloused fingers pulling at your t-shirt, and the voice out of tune at nightly sing-a-longs—and he loves you still. 

Loving you was the only thing that never changed.

“Shhhh, don’t waste your energy. The gods will…” you swallow a sob despite yourself, “I…my dad’s going to be here soon. He’ll help us.” There’s a lump in your throat that carries the weight of everything unsaid. Who would help you now that everyone else is getting what they wanted—a brighter tomorrow without the villain? But the prophecy unveils itself so cruelly, and the one who hurt you is the hero in this story, just as he’s always dreamed. It so happens to be at the cost of loving you.

Luke’s eyelids flutter like butterfly wings descending softly. You press a kiss onto his forehead like you used to while waiting for him to fall asleep. The chuckle that rumbles his ribcage is faint against the hand of yours that’s holding him together and the war is finally over and no one even knows that besides the four of you in this room.

“I'm running on borrowed time,” Luke wheezes, “I think my life ended the day I left you.” His thumb weakly traces the tear tracks cascading down your face, and he’s reacquainting himself with every feature of yours while he can touch it—to hold and be held by you after so long feels like drinking up ambrosia, his last bits of strength telling you what you’ve always known. 

Is there a word stronger than love?

One that would explain how close and how far you feel to him at this moment and you don’t want to say the wrong thing but there are no wrong words when it comes to the right person. Hoarsely, through wavering lips, you chuckle, “Then it's time to stop running, baby. I’m here now.”

It’s exhausting to carry the weight of tomorrow in your arms and to know it’ll be made possible only by letting him go. You’re holding him too tightly, claws sinking in to feel—to ground yourself and keep him tethered to this reality, just in case a different answer falls out of the sky. 

But falling with Luke Castellan, falling for him, has been nothing like you wanted. You've said your goodbyes more often than you can count. 

This part is just about letting him go.

“I think I’m doomed,” he laughs, coughing harshly. Blood soaks his airways, retribution for the lives he took. It drips out of his mouth and you still look at Luke like he’s asked you to marry him. What a soft, funny thought. 

Love must be more violent than war, to feel like this—to know he’s wrecked your world and still come out the other side smiling at him like he put the stars in the sky. His fingers are slipping out of yours as you hold onto the knife that keeps him here and Luke mutters, “I’m so s-sorry. You deserved better in this life.” You hear Annabeth sob from somewhere behind you but you can’t look at anything else but his eyes, not daring to miss another moment of him.

“Can’t be all that bad,” you say with a watery chuckle, wiping his mouth with your thumb. There’s more of a mess now with your feeble efforts but the action comforts you more than him; caring for Luke is something you cannot unlearn. 

“This life gave me you. I don’t want to know anything else. Do you hear me?” 

You want Luke to know this—to understand that even if this is how fate has handled the both of you, there is no other hand you would hold but his.

“You’re my whole life, Trouble.”

“I know, angel. I know. It’s always been me and you.”

You and me, he mouths, an echo of himself left to relay the message as his eyes lose their warmth, empty now and unseeing. And then he's home in your arms again as you hold every broken and bloodied piece of him together until he's no more. The parts of him he leaves behind blur into you, rivulets of his lifeforce weaving through your fingertips even when you put pressure against the knife you both hold, hands cradling the spot under his armpit, and to Percy and Annabeth it looks like you're holding his heart, clutching it between your fingers.

Protecting it until his last beat—when he finally gives it over to you. 

It was always yours, anyway. 

Before, in the in-between, and now after, his heart is yours.

Time stops for Luke Castellan, the man born to die, in the Hall of Gods that day— in the arms of his partner and in the presence of his little sister and truest friend. 

Lips against his ear, no one tries to pull you away, even when the gods of Olympus march in expecting a battle to only find a dead hero and a story that needs to be told.

You’ve never seen him so still before. 

Luke’s always been the one with something to say, hands fidgeting to hold yours. Still, you hold his hand even if he can't feel it, still smile even if he can't see you, still whisper words of devotion even if he can't hear it. By the time you feel your father’s hands on your back and hear Percy say, “We need a shroud. A shroud for the son of Hermes,” you imagine that he’s miles away from where he lays motionless, dead weight in your grasp. Nothing can pull you away from the mantra you set to remind him that he’s yours even when he leaves again. Luke’s soul will soon journey where you cannot follow, and you whisper to him in the stillness amidst the noise, “I love you, I love you, I love you…” 

When the Fates come to collect the body, their ancient hands spin around the two of you as they unweave your hold on him. You weren’t given a choice—his material body dissipates in front of your eyes and you swear you feel the tug from deep within your core as you watch them float Luke away. It’s so much different now from when he used to fly around your room with his stupid winged Converse—even the gods avert their eyes when you let out a sob that shakes the ornate hall. Hopelessly you watch, sat down on the marble and unable to move or follow—as if maybe he’d still answer to your sweet nothings, and not leave you hanging once more. You slump against your father’s side, catatonic and at a loss for words—they leave with him, floating away into the distance.

Humanity’s biggest problem and resolution has always been love—this was never a story about the lack thereof.

[august 18th; 12:00 am, death, pre-judgement? — the seven minutes after]

The path that Luke Castellan takes after he dies is most peculiar and unlike any path he’s traveled before. And yes, there have been several times that he’s come close to death—under Ladon’s claws in the Garden of Hesperides, and when he relinquished his physical self by bathing in the River Styx, but neither of those times where he’s cheated his way out can compare to the real thing. 

He once read in one of Annabeth’s textbooks that there are seven minutes of brain activity that wanes in your consciousness before you die. There’s a distinct thrumming in his ears when he comes to, and Luke discovers he’s completely in the dark with no sense of direction and most importantly, no visible way out. The old him, were he still alive—would be panicking by now, short terse breaths and sweat upon his brow. Old Luke would have fidgeting hands and eyes that rocket around for an exit. But this Luke, whoever he is—whatever he is now, finds himself eerily calm. Everything glows in a vignette, and familiar scenes materialize before his vision, a kaleidoscope of color and your shrieking laughter surrounding him in the familiarity of your happiness with him—it feels like lifetimes ago. He realizes he’s smiling. 

Versions of you swirl in the space he stands in, taking up space wherever he can look, wherever he turns—you’re there. 

And he remembers.  

Memory is a choice after all, much like love is. And no one can take that away from Luke Castellan except death itself.

The scene flickers for a moment, eyelashes fluttering against morning light peeking through the windows of Cabin 11.

It’s Luke’s first morning at Camp Half-Blood after the storm that brought him and Annabeth there. You’re standing over him with a half-beaten pillow and a menacing grin that grows as he spits out feathers. It’s his first impression of you, Kool-aid tipped hair and hands shaking with a crushed Redbull can in your other fist.

“Good. You’re still breathing. Wasn’t sure for a sec.”

A voice yells out your name and you make a run for it, barefoot and giggling and looking back at him every few steps—his breath catches in his throat again like how it did on the first day you both met.

The scenery changes and he’s sitting next to you on the dock of Canoe Lake.

“I dare you.”

“No way,” he hears himself say, and then he sees you fling algae at him in ropes, cold and slimy that it makes his voice crack, “He—ey! You’re gonna get us fired and it hasn’t even been a full day since we got the job,” he says, clearing his throat as you bite your lip.

“What’s one last hurrah?”

“You’re always gonna be Trouble, aren’t you?” he says, getting annoyed by the orange fabric that temporarily blinds him. Chuckling, you pull your shorts off and look back at him, eyes glinting in the moonlight and he can’t help but ogle at the rest of you, gulping hard. You catch him staring and he averts his eyes, looking back at the treeline to see if anyone’s come to find you both. A resounding splash echoes in the silence between you and Luke turns back to find your head bobbing visible above the water and not much else.

“I double-dog dare you, Castellan.”

He jumps in.

The dark blue of the water turns into light reflecting the pinks and purples of the sky above Montauk Point at sunset.

“We’re alive! Told you we’d be fine,” you yell, clicking your seatbelt off and jumping out of the car before Luke can even put the hatchback in park. It was his first drive anywhere—you’ve finally graduated from looping around Farm Road.

“Hey wait up!”

He calls out your name, but you’re already kicking up sand as the distance between you grows until he locks up the car and chases after you. You didn’t stand a chance, slipping and sliding in the sand as the son of Hermes quickly grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder as you scream bloody murder. When he sets you down, your arms are looped around his neck and you’re smiling against the pink and tender scar on his cheek.

“Think we can break into the lighthouse before the guards come, angelface?”

The sound of crashing waves turns into chattering cabin counselors and when Luke looks around again, he’s at the Big House, with everyone else pushing their chairs in and walking towards the door. He holds his hand out and you grab it with no words or instruction—like a key nestled within its lock, exactly where it’s meant to be. 

“Last order of business, kind of…” Your dad drones from his spot near the windows. Luke tries to let go of your hand but you don’t let him, “Don’t panic,” you mutter.

“This… fraternization won't become an issue for all of us, will it?”

Everyone’s frozen near the doorway, staring at your intertwined hands. Luke clears his throat and turns toward Mr. D, “I’ll see to it that it doesn’t. Sir.”

You could almost hear a pin drop, and no one knows what to say next—not even Mr. D.

“Yeah, I’ll keep Castellan in line.”

That’s the confirmation everyone was waiting for; a mixture of groans and the clinking of drachma fill the air as Chris holds his hands out and takes his spoils of victory with a charming smirk on his face. Clarisse throws the coins at his head.

“I feel like I should take a bow or something,” Luke snickers into your ear, before placing a kiss against your temple.

You’re still in his arms and still look good in orange, but when he pulls back to look at you again, you’re both hovering above the ground near the dining pavilion. His knees are shaking when his winged Converse flap madly underneath you—a flurry of uncoordinated movement that makes you want to piss yourself.

“You’re lucky I have a strong core, babe,” he grins—and he’s thrilled at the fear on your face as you clutch onto him for dear life, one arm around his abdomen and the other around his neck, both legs latched around his waist.

“I swear to the fucking gods if you drop me, Castellan…”

His right foot jerks in a slightly different direction, making him laugh as you squeak.

“Castellan, huh? That scared, Trouble? Not gonna drop my baby.”

The wind around you whirls like a tornado as Luke tries to show off, getting higher and higher until, “LUKE!”

He catches you by the fingertips again and now there’s sand beneath your feet. You’re still spinning in his arms and his mom is singing along to a song playing on the radio you brought to Westport Beach. May claps lightly and you tug her up with a soft smile, “Come on Miss May! Take your son out for a spin.” Tugging at the damp white t-shirt you wear over your underwear, you take a seat on the picnic blanket and watch them with a smile you haven’t given Luke in years.

“Mother-son dance,” May whispers in his ear, humming a few notes of the wedding march.

He closes his eyes and soaks it all in, slightly swaying.

That thrumming is in his ears again, a steady beat against his chest and he feels it everywhere—a pounding rhythm that cannot be ignored. He opens his eyes and you’re snuggled against each other, tangled beneath the sheets. You’re still asleep and Luke just…watches you before the morning starts (whenever this is) and it all has to end. You’re breathing against his neck, lips slightly agape as warm air brushes his pulse. He moves hair out of your face and you pull him in unconsciously, skin to skin with no atom of space left between you. 

Luke blinks. 

You’re in your college apartment.

He blinks again.

His childhood bedroom.

Again, please.

In Cabin 12.

Please, just one last time.

You’re drooling against his neck in his tiny bunk in Cabin 11 and the noise is getting louder now—a static sound that morphs into the sound of your voice throbbing like a heartbeat, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It’s the last thing he can hear before he has to go.

_ 

“I wanna see your eyes / Is it a crime to say I still need you?” - Adrienne Lenker

[protectionelainsquad]

Every single theory leads back to Elain and Azriel. every. damn. one.

First off—let’s get the obvious outta the way. Elain is 1000% the next main female character.

SJM literally said she did research and studied for this book. and she’s an Archeron. it’s her turn. period.

And there’s SO MUCH pointing to it:

• in the feysand bonus chapter from ACOSF, Rhys straight up says: “first one sister (Nesta), then the other.”

• Elain is heavily implied to be ready—or soon-to-be—to train and tap into her powers.

• and now with HOFAS? her powers line up perfectly. especially when you look at her next to Azriel.

Let’s talk about the Dusk Court.

Elain’s into gardening, right? and people LOVE to clown her for it, like it’s some silly little thing. But HELLO, every SJM heroine has a “thing.” and this? This will matter.

when we talk about Elain, it’s not just “seer.” it’s powers—plural.

The Cauldron literally loved her enough to give her life, just like it gave Nesta death.

Nesta = death.

Elain = life.

Now imagine Elain, full of this life-giving power, awakening the Eighth Court—the Dusk Court.

And Azriel? the shadowy, mysterious male who’s never fully fit anywhere? what if he’s the heir to that court?

plot twist: the two of them aren’t just compatible—they’re meant to restore a piece of Prythian’s forgotten history.

And the Cauldron?

in that bonus chapter (you know the one—Azriel, Elain, Gwyn), Az drops a bomb:

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

like??? what if the Cauldron got it wrong??

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

And now HOFAS is like: “yeah btw the Cauldron is controlled by the Daglan and was trying to breed stronger offspring so...”

We're talking about this since ACOWAR.

Az feels the bond between Elain and Lucien. and not in a “cute jealousy” way. Like he literally feels sick.

and Amren was the only other one who could feel mating bonds in ACOMAF.

but Az doesn’t feel all bonds—he didn’t feel Feysand’s. just Elucien’s.

What if that’s because… there are two mating bonds?

• The Cauldron’s: Elain + Lucien.

• The Mother’s: the real deal. soul-deep. chosen. Elriel.

But what about Lucien???

yeah let’s go there.

this bond with Elain? it’s been hanging around since ACOWAR.

but like… nothing’s happening. no romantic scenes. no tension. no anything.

Elain actively avoids him. She loses her voice around him. She wants nothing to do with him.

And Lucien? He’s literally living with another woman. Also he’s linked to Vassa. And Vassa’s under a spell. and Lucien’s the son of the guy who breaks spells.

Yeah. that’s a plot. That’s its own arc. Not Elain’s.

And no. Elain can’t “just say no” and move on.

If she rejects Lucien, the political fallout would be HUGE.

Beron’s ready to go full villain. he’ll use this to start a war. Blood Duel. Chaos. Alliances crumbling. It’s not that simple.

Now let’s zoom out.

Sarah J. Maas basically invented the mating bond trend in romantasy.

Everyone’s copying it.

Feysand walked so a million other romantasy couples could run.

But what if Elain’s book breaks the trope?

What if she is the one who says:

“I don’t want this bond.”

“I don’t want the male that the Cauldron, fate picked for me.”

“I want to choose for myself.”

Imagine a story where a girl rejects the magical destined bond.

And not because it’s broken or abusive—but just because she doesn’t want it.

Iconic.

SJM’s stories are all about choice.

Feyre and Rhys? They chose each other before the bond.

Nesta and Cassian? Same.

Bryce and Hunt? Same.

Aelin and Rowan? Same.

Feyre didn't even knew about the mating bond, and Rhysand didn't want to tell her, leaving her the possibility to choose.

CHOICE. Not fate. Not obligation. Not “you’re mine because magic said so.”

Love that’s freely chosen.

So why should Elain be forced to accept a bond she doesn’t want?

Lucien doesn’t even seem to want it either. like… he’s vibing with someone else entirely.

And in today’s world?

this story would hit hard.

A female lead saying:

“I don’t owe him anything.”

“I don’t have to give him a chance.”

“I get to choose who I love.”

YES.

We Elriel fans don’t want another ACOSF.

We want something like ACOMAF. Like TOG.

Not just smut and vibes—but a story with depth. A slow-burn, emotional, soul-healing, plot-driving masterpiece.

With a heroine who grows, heals, and shines.

Elain has so much potential.

She’s not a warrior like Nesta or Aelin or Manon. But she’s powerful in her softness. Gentle.

She deserves a book that shows the strength in that.

And we’re ready for it.

[love-fictional-ppl]

Angst Prompts 22. “I don’t know what you see in me. I’m a horrible person.” “You are one of the most kindest purest souls I’ve ever met.” w Seamus Finnigan or Ron Weasley

Right away 🫡

Envy

Summary: Ron finds himself feeling depressed and not knowing his self worth and now it’s up to you, his best friend’s little sister, to help him back up.

Pairings: Ron Weasley x Potter!Fem!reader, Harry Potter x sister!Reader, brief!Seamus Finigan x reader, brief!Ron Weasley x padma patil

Warnings: language, jealousy, negative self talk(Ron), way more I’m js lazy. Not proofread.

Prompt: 22.) “I don’t know what you see in me, I’m a horrible person.” “You are one of the most kindest, purest souls I’ve met.”

A/N: set in goblet of fire except you can imagine the reader and the boys to be however old. Reader is also a gryffindor

You hated seeing your brother and his best friend on bad terms, especially when you have a crush on said friend. Honestly you thought their fight was stupid, frankly everyone agreed except for Ron. Your brother, Harry’s, stubborn best friend.

The dispute had been started over something Harry could barely be put to blame for and Ron’s envy towards the boy.

This year was the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Two other school’s would be participating and Hogwarts would play host for the year. The rules were simple, you write your name on a piece of paper, put it in the goblet, then three names would be chosen. Somehow, four names were chosen. One being Harry’s.

Harry was deemed a cheat because his name was spat out, but in his defense he didn’t put his name in the goblet to begin with.

Ron couldn’t overlook the fact that Harry’s name was chosen and let envy blind him. He chose to believe Harry went behind his back and put his name in the goblet of fire. Harry became pretty alone after his name was pulled everybody in the school hated him. As Harry’s sister you offered his a shoulder to lean on, you also helped him prepare for each round of the tri-wizard tournament.

You attempted to talk to Ron and get him to see reason, see that this entire dispute was bullshit. You had started to realize that Ron knew it already.

About a week before Harry would have to face a dragon, you found Ron, sitting alone in the common room doing class work, you were actually shocked to see the sight.

You weren’t even looking for Ron, fate just worked that way. You were walking down the staircase of your dorm to where Ron sat. You figured now was the best time to talk to the ginger.

“Ron!” He looked up startled at hearing his name yelled.

“H-hi,” Ron gulped.

“What the hell is you and Harry’s issue? Just say sorry and he’ll forgive you,” you stood in front of Ron while he sat on one of the couches, arms crossed against your chest.

“Say sorry for what?” And suddenly Ron was on the defense, something you weren’t used to from him.

You looked at him with pleading eyes, “You know what you need to apologize for and Harry knows what he needs to apologize for. We miss you Ron, please.”

Ron seemed taken aback, the two of you were never really close, mainly hanging out because of Harry or Ginny. Ron knew you were kind and he liked you, he even found you attractive, he just was surprised to hear you say we.

You decided to sit down next to Ron, he just stared at you stunned as you sat crisscrossed turned towards him.

“If you can’t talk to Harry, you can at least talk to me. What’s going on? Even a blind man could see you’re not okay.”

Ron looked down at his feet, “I- it’s just- it’s stupid.” Ron was clearly bothered with himself. “I guess I’m jealous and I shouldn’t be. I’m a horrible friend for it. I’m starting to realize Harry never put his name in the goblet, which makes me a horrible friend for not believing him.”

“Why do you say you’re jealous?” You asked calmly.

“Oh, because! Harry’s the chosen boy, Dumbledore’s favorite, the two of you don’t have to wear hand-me-downs.” You could feel the hurt in Ron’s voice. “I’m a horrible person,” Ron mumbled to himself.

“Stop saying that, you’re not a terrible person or, whatever you think. You are having feelings that you are entitled to have. It comes down to how you handle these feelings.” You started to grow annoyed with all the negativity. Ron just needed to come to terms with what he felt and make up with Harry.

Ron looked on the verge of tears, his bottom lip jutted out. “I don’t know what you see in me, I’m a horrible person. The way I’ve treated Harry,” the boy allowed a tear to roll down his face.

“You are one of the kindest, purest soul’s I’ve ever met, so I need you to stop saying that. You feel this way because you let your jealousy towards Harry get the better of you, believe it or not Harry and I feel jealous of others at times ourself. What makes you a horrible person is when you act vicious towards your best friend. Harry will forgive you, apologize, you know better than anybody not to put Harry on a pedestal.” Ron simply listened to you speak.

Before this conversation you were simply Harry’s little sister, Ginny’s friend, y/n. As said before, Ron thought you were attractive but now he was attracted to you, if you understand. He felt more than just a physical connection, more than just a pretty girl. He felt an emotional connection, and now he felt like an asshole for sitting here wallowing in his own self pity.

You weren’t sure what to say, seeing the boy simply sitting there staring at you, wide eyed. “Well? Will you talk to him?”

Ron blinked a couple times, “Um, yeah.”

You got up, nodded your head awkwardly at the ginger haired boy and went back to your dorm. You couldn’t even remember why you originally left.

When you entered the room you headed towards your bed, ready to just think about your entire interaction with Ron. Ginny sat on her bed staring at you expectantly, “So, did you ask Harry who he’s taking as his date to the Yule ball?” Oh yeah, that’s what you were supposed to be doing.

“No, sorry. Crookshank caught a mouse in the common room, got me distracted.”

“Bloody cat,” Ginny gullibly bought the lie. You didn’t want to lie to her you just thought it would be word to tell her about what really happened.

Now that you had Ginny off your back you were ready to go to sleep. The two of you said good night and you changed into your pajamas, you hopped into your bed and got comfortable, pulling the curtains on the bed shut. You drifted to sleep thinking about how sad the girl’s brother had seemed.

The first thing you did when you woke up was head for the shower. When you were done you brushed your teeth and hair, got dressed, and head to the dining hall. You saw Harry sitting alone, per usual, and joined him, the two of you ate together, per usual, the only thing different is you couldn’t ignore the feeling of eyes on you.

You notice Ron’s eyes on you and Harry, he looked like he wanted nothing more than to just walk over and sit with the two of you. You ignored Ron’s staring, it was up to him and Harry to sort that out.

You were sure Ron would come talk to Harry soon. You waited days for Harry and Ron to make up. Ron didn’t have the courage to talk to Harry till after he won the first round in the competition. The two boys made up and went back to their usual shenanigans. The only difference was the longing stares shot your way from Ron.

Ron contemplated different ways of asking you out, or even confessing his feelings to Harry. A million scenarios ran through his head, until ultimately he came to the conclusion that he was simply unworthy. You were kind, smart, funny, everything someone could hope for in a girl, but he was poor, an envious person, etc. Heck, you would probably laugh at him if he tried to ask you out, but Ron didn’t realize you also held feelings for him.

You simply didn’t make a move out of fear of stirring drama. Weeks went by of awkward small talk during group hangouts and longing stares, at that point Harry, Hermione and Ginny had all picked up on it. When the Yule ball came up you avoided Ron out of fear of him asking you to go, just for Seamus to ask you to go, which you agreed. You found out Ron decided to go with Padma Patil which hurt to hear, a lot, but you couldn’t do anything about it.

You ultimately decided to distance yourself from the boy, thinking it would be for the better. You yourself to sleep for days, hating yourself for being so stupid. You focused your time and energy on school and friends, you had decided to try out for quidditch next year since positions would be opening up on the team.

You still caught Ron staring from time to time but you were never caught staring back. You slowly moved on from your crush, though he had not moved on from you evidently.

Harry would ask from time to time, “what happened with you and Ron?” And you would simply smile and say “nothing.”

The next step was to build a friendship with him.

As you could tell I kinda gave up mid way through😭 I suck at writing angst

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Chapter 11

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for chapter- talk of previous forced marriage, mention of death, description of blood and gore, description of prostitution, mention or beating, 18+ words and themes overall. Slight angst.

Slightly prof read sorry for any errors

Read previous chapter here

You sit your back against Sandors chest as  he steers the horse you both sit on. You're wrapped in his cloak keeping you warm, the sun peeking up over the mountains, the first light of day breaking as you see the smoke from the burning ships in Kings landing behind you. 

Sandor keeps a firm arm around your waist holding the horse's reins with the other. 

“I know where we can go.” you say. 

“Mm.” he grunts. 

“Home..my home.” you say 

“Volantis? You want to go east.” he says. You nod. 

“Hm” he responds lightly, turning the horse. 

“Where are you going?” you ask. 

“South…There's a merchant ship yard where you'll be able to get on a boat and then take a carriage. The next merchant ship yard is miles off so we'll be riding for a while but we should get there before dark.” he says.

“You're coming with me sandor.” you speak it as more of a demand than a request. 

“I'm not.” he replies. 

“You are.” you fight back. 

“Not.” 

“Yes.” “No.”

“Sandor clegane as your wife, mother of your child, and princess of the very place WE are headed for, I'm ordering you to join me.” you snap. He stops the horse and looks down to you. Before looking back up and continuing the horse forward. A small victorious smile hits your face. 

“Volantis it is.. I guess.” he says you rest your head against his chest in peace, his arm around your waist tightens a bit pulling you closer to him. 

“What do you think will happen to king's landing?” You ask. He scoffs at your question giving no fucks to whats to happen to the place. 

“If Stannis has taken it he’ll be putting a bounty on everyone who flead, me, you servant, commoners. And if not there will still be bounty and the lannisters will still be a bag of cunts.” he says gruffly. 

“When they killed my brother…they sent his head to my family with a note that I was to be married to you or the fate my brother withstood would soon be mine…” you trial off. Sandor can feel a slight pain in his heart as you speak about the forced marriage you two had shared how much he felt like he didn't want you, how he thought you were another stuck up useless little princess how badly he treated you and yet you still stood at that alter and kissed him and even invited him into your bed…but it was out of fear..isn't it?” 

“Do you remember when we wed?” you ask placing your hand over his that rests on your stomach. 

“Yes.” he says coldly, mostly afraid of the awful things you are going to say about it. 

“I remember how nice you looked. That the armory had made you the golden armor and seamstress had sewn a new cloak, were you comfortable?” you ask. Sandor knits his eyebrows together in confusion. 

“No.” he answers anyway. 

“Me either the dress cersi chose for me was corseted to hell, and itchy but…looking back on it i don't think i was scared…I want to tell myself that only married you so my head wouldn't be sent to my mother and father but i can't. I know now that I married you because the gods willed me to love you, I was never afraid of you like everyone else and  becoming yours was the best thing that has happened to me in a while.” you say looking up at him.

He leans down to you pressing a kiss to your lips before you sit back against him and continue the ride twords the merchant shipyard. You hum the song your mother would always sing to you to help you sleep and eventually you find yourself drifting to sleep as the swaying of the horse and the steady sound of Sandors beating heart lulls you to drift, it helps that you'd been awake all night fearing for you life. 

—-----

You wake up to hear the same humming you fell asleep to, too sandors humming the song now having got it stuck in his head after hearing it three times before you fell under the sandman's curse. 

The sun is high in the sky now most likely around 1 pm but it's slightly cast out but the snowing clouds. 

“How far are we?” you ask, looking around tiredly rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“We'll be passing the harvest hall in a moment.” he says as the forest path opens to a clearing, seeing the small town full of people and sellers. 

“We have to pass through prince’s pass and get on the ships at sun spear if we want to arrive in volantis by the day after tomorrow.” he says 

“Sun spear? Dornish country.” you say. Sandor nods. 

A crowd of people passing to the square of the town stops the horse. They all yell about some foreign scum throwing someone into the frozen mud. 

“What's going on?” you ask.

“Does Not concern us.'' Sandor grunts as he heels the horse to move but it doesn't as there's too many people blocking the way out. 

“A SQUIRE FROM KINGS LANDING WAS FOUND IN MY BARN!” a man yells at you frowning in confusion. A break in the crowd allows you to see the accused. Joss. 

“S-sandor, that's joss.” you speak out. 

“So..” he says. 

“Let me down," you say, pulling away from him. 

“y/n no. the villagers will have their way with him.” he speaks. 

“He’s just a boy!” you exclaim. Holding onto the horse as you try to get down off the large clydesdale. 

“Fuck me…wait.” he says and easily hops off the horse before holding onto you lifting you up and off steadying you on the ground. You pick up your dress before running through the crowd. 

“Damn! Y/N!” Sandor yells running after you shoving people out of the way to get to you. 

“S-Stop! Stop!” you yell out as a man kicks joss. 

“Oh looky here a little lady has come to play.” He says. 

“Please stop, that's my husband's squire.” you say. 

“This little shit was hiding in my barn bringing his shame with him when the Lannister found him here they’ll have all our heads!” the farmer yells. 

“Th-the lannisters?” you ask. 

“Yeah pretty girl they won, tywin took them out!” he yells and everyone cheers. 

“Please just.. Let him go. I have money and as long as he's safe.” you plead. 

“You a Lannister bitch?!” he asks. 

“No..i-” you're about to clarify. 

“Y/n!” Sandor calls you entering the middle clearing. 

The man turns to sandor giving you a chance to hurry to joss wrapping your cape around him keeping him as warm as you can. 

“You're sandor clegane.” the man speaks then turns his attention to you helping joss to his feet. 

“Give us the quire and we’ll be on our way.” Sandor speaks with his hand resting on the handle of his sword. 

“The queen wants your head clegane the money I’d get for that is worth more than a scrawny squire.” the man speaks. 

“What do they call you?” Sandor asks. 

“Byran.” the man answers. 

“You're not getting my head bryan but ill be getting yours if you don't step aside.” Sandor huffs. Bryan chuckles, putting his hands on his hips puffing out his chest. 

“You can have your squire, for a price.” he speaks again, glaring at your husband. Sandor grumbles in annoyance. 

“Her, your traveling wench. Just a night with that pretty little thing.” Bryan speaks pointing towards you.

Sandor looks at you as you stand with joss as he fetched the horse and is now holding onto the reins for you. 

“She’s not for sale.” Sandor speaks gruffly as he turns back to face the man who just chuckles and shakes his head.

“20 minutes then. I’ll easily go through you to get that tight little cunt wrapped around my cock.” Bryan asks stupidly speaking once more.

Sandor sighs and steps up closer to the man would just hold his ground standing straight regardless of your large intimidating husband towering over him.

“You touch her and I’ll hang you from that tavern overhang with a noose made out of your own guts.” Sandor speaks sternly. The man just laughs, turning his head away before he opens his mouth to speak again but is cut off by sandor.

“You think I’m joking?” Sandor replies but before he gives the man a chance to speak he punches him square in the jaw, his armored glove cutting into the man’s jaw slicing gashes into the man’s skin. The man falls into the mud gasping and coughing in pain as his broken, bloody jaw hangs loosely. Bryan writhes in pain on the ground. 

“Come on.” Sandor says to you as he walks twords you. 

“Get on I'll walk.” he speaks to joss who nods and lifts himself up onto the horse. Sandor  lifts you up and onto the horse before taking the reins to lead you both. 

“Sandor.” you speak looking down to him as you pass through the dissipating crowd. 

“Thank you.” you say. He only grunts compliance making you smile.

NEXT CHAPTER HERE

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[erii-ya]

Massacre Soldier Killer being a dad?

One Piece FanFic Killer x FemReader

A/N: I know it’s already so late, but still, belated Happy Birthday to our adorable vice-captain Killer. I’ve been so busy lately and couldn’t properly organize my thoughts, so my KillerxReader stories have been on a long pause. Anyway, I accidentally saw a YT vid about different types of writers and discovered that I am a ‘Pantser’ - a term most commonly applied to fiction writers, especially novelists, who write their stories "by the seat of their pants."—someone who doesn’t plan out much (or anything) in advance. So meeee. 😅

Content warning: Long story ahead. Swear words. Killing. Pregnancy. Abortion. WC: 7,9k *I decided not to split the story into multiple parts to make it up to whoever reads my stories*

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As a responsible vice-captain, Killer doesn’t plan on having a child with you until his partner, Eustass Kid, fulfills his dream of becoming the Pirate King. First, because the environment won't suit a child, he knows how dangerous it is in the New World. Second, he won’t be able to fully take care of you while you're pregnant with his child. And third, he’s unsure if he will be a good father.

However, by the time everything had been settled, his next priority would be you, probably thinking of building a future with you. He can’t promise to give you a perfect life, but he’ll try his best to make it fulfilling and worthwhile for you. He’s already blessed to have met you and still thinks about why the hell did you chose him when there are better men out there that are more deserving.

BUT, fate wants to make a prank out of it, and because of a slight miscalculation on your part, you end up conceiving. What’s worse is that you only confirmed it on his birthday.

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

I.

“Hey, are you alright? You’re pale.” Killer asked you while you were both in the middle of making Lunch. You've been pretty under the weather for a couple of days now.

“I’m fine. Just got a bit dizzy, is all.” giving him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I can take a rest after this.”

You caught a bad case of the flu last month; recovery took a whole week.  Emma, the crew’s doctor, said it may be because of fatigue, so your captain, Eustass Kid, ordered you not to do everything simultaneously and to look out for yourself more. You tend to overwork yourself constantly, and everyone on the ship gets disoriented when you go sick. Mainly because you managed everyone’s daily tasks so that they would be organized.

“It’s better if you take a rest now. I’ll handle everything else.” 

“Hell no! You’re the one who should be taking your sweet time relaxing since today’s your day. You should leave this to me instead.” trying to shoo him away.

“Nah. It’s just like any other day. Nothing special.” You still want to argue about it, but another wave of nausea hits you. This gives Killer all the more reason to kick you out of the kitchen. He insists you see Emma first to give you a check-up and meds, which you do since your uneasiness is getting annoying.

“Overworking yourself again, I see.” was the first thing the doctor told you once you entered her clinic.

“Not really. Captain’s keeping an eye on everything I do, so I can’t really move around like I always do. Told me to regain my strength first when it’s already been a month since I caught the flu.” you said after she gestured for you to sit on the medical bed.

“Can’t blame the captain. If you only saw the chaos out there while you’re in recovery. It was bad.”

“That bad?”

“It’s terrible.” you only answered with a sigh. When you first joined the Kid Pirates, you saw how disorderly the environment was and corrected that, although it took you quite a while to do so.

Emma started to ask you questions about your symptoms. After writing everything down and examining you, she returned to your charts to analyze the data for a diagnosis. A few minutes passed, and you saw her raising one of her brows while looking at your charts, making you curious.

“What? Did I end up with another flu? ‘Cause I swear, it’s no fun.” you commented, crossing your arms.

“Well, uhm, I actually have some good news for you.” she answered, then looked at you. “Two, to be exact.” Now, it was your turn to raise a brow. Usually, you’ll get both good and bad news, but having two good news?

“I’m dying here, Emma. Spill it already.” 

“So, you don’t have a flu.” then silenced. It seems like Emma’s having some hesitation before telling you the other ‘good’ news.

“Emma!” you yelled, breaking her from her thoughts. She looked at your charts, then back at you, and did that at least three more times. The suspense is killing you.

Instead of saying the second one, she started asking you again. “Y/N, when was the last time you took the contraceptive pill I gave you?”

“This morning. Why?”

“Were you diligently taking those pills even while you were sick last month?” her question made you think back. If memory serves you right, you held off on taking the birth control pills while you were on a sick bed and never had contact with Killer around that time, either.

“I started retaking the pills after I recovered, though.”

“And when was your first contact with Killer-san after your recovery?”

“Well, it was the same day I retake the pill. The reason I remembered retaking it.”

“Ok, so was it the blue or the pink pill?” The what now? At this point, you’re at a loss.

“Emma, you’re confusing me. What blue and pink? It was always a pink pill. Never had a blue one.”

Emma face-palmed. By now, she was sure about your diagnosis. You were slow to catch on, but you eventually did after a couple of silences. And when you did…

“Holy shizz… Are you telling me that I’m..?” you can’t even say it. Emma didn’t say anything either and just nodded her head in agreement. The face that you’re making this time can’t be explained. A lot of emotions were bubbling up inside of you.

“Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no.” you started to panic and became paler. Emma was quick to approach you after seeing you start a panic attack. You gripped her shirt and said, “This can’t be, Emma. THIS is not supposed to happen! I religiously took those pink pills you gave me for a year! Why now?! What’s with blue pills?! The pink?!” you’re practically screaming at her now with tears flowing down your face.

Emma covered your mouth tightly to suppress your screams. She told you to come down, or else the others would hear you unless you wanted them to know the big news. She’s right. No one should know, so you tried to calm yourself upon hearing her suggestion. 

You inhaled and exhaled sharply while trying to suppress your emotions and tears. When Emma saw you had calmed down, she began to explain about the blue and pink pills. She said that she gave you two different bottles of pills before, which are colored blue and pink. Pink is for daily use, while the blue one should be consumed right after intercourse if, by any chance, you stop taking the pink pills regularly.

Since you were out with the flu for a whole week last month, you couldn’t take your regular pink pills, and Killer, being Killer, once he was sure you had recovered, took his time to ‘recharge’ you with ‘Vitamin K’ or as he’d like to call it. The miscalculation on your part was forgetting about Emma’s advice about how to consume the two pills properly. 

You totally forgot about the blue pills since you never had a skip of the regular pink ones for over a year until you got sick. You thought by then, if you start retaking the pink pills, it’ll work just the same.

You wipe the tears continuously escaping your eyes and grab Emma by her shoulder. “This conversation will stay between the both of us. You hear me, Emma? No words about this can leave this room, and I’m dead serious.”

“Of course. My patients' records are confidential. Like you, I may be a pirate, but I still follow medical ethics. However…” she looked at you straight in the eyes, “I think Killer-san has the right to know about this too.”

Your eyes widen at her advice. “NO! Definitely not!”

“But he’s the father, Y/N!” 

“And he’s also our vice-captain, Emma! He has his priorities, and that’s Kid. Captain won’t be happy to know about this too, and I don’t want to be a burden to anyone.” you insist. The doctor gave you a sympathetic look and didn’t say another word. You left and went to your and Killer’s shared bedroom. Your mind is too occupied with what happened in the clinic, but the exhaustion pulls you into a deep sleep.

II.

When you wake up, it’s already dark. You don’t know how long you’ve been out, and the first thing that came to mind was the revelation you heard earlier. Getting the flu again seems a better diagnosis, after all. You tried to shift in bed when you realized big, strong arms were wrapped around you and a leg locking you in place—warm breath blowing on your left temple. 

You saw Killer sleeping peacefully beside you with his mask off. You were blessed to see that gorgeous face every day, and you couldn’t help but caress it. He moved slightly when he felt the warmth of your hand, tightening his grip on you.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere, love.” you said softly, giggling at his actions. You heard him hum in agreement.

Minutes passed, and you savored the peaceful silence, listening to Killer’s rhythmic breathing beside you. You’re already content with this. Spending your days as a pirate alongside the man you love was challenging, but being in his arms like this at the end of the day makes it all worth it. He makes you feel safe. He makes you happy. He makes you feel…home.

You unconsciously placed your hands on your stomach. Family… You never thought of the idea before. Having a family with Killer. Not because you don’t like it but because of both your current situation. Especially when your captain, Eustass Kid, has come a long way to fulfilling his dreams. 

That’s when you decide on what to do. The child will only be a nuisance, and you won’t let the child drag the crew down. It’s the only way you can think of. There’s no other choice. 

Tears sting your eyes, and you try your best to stifle a cry when someone bangs the door loudly. “Oi, Killer! Get your fuckin’ ass outta here! We’re celebrating your birthday, and you hole yourself up in there? GET OUT! NOW!” it was Kid, banging at the door profusely.

Killer grunts but gets up anyway. He walked over the door to open it, displaying Kid’s grumpy face. “Fucking finally!” your captain said. He looked past Killer to peek at you. “You feeling Okay?” he asked with concern in his voice.

You smiled at him and nodded, “Strong as a bull, captain.”

He bobs his head, satisfied, and looks back at Killer, telling him to dress up and drag you out on the deck. Even added to keep your hands off each other for the time being and just get back to your business after the party before he disappeared. You laughed at his last remark.

You got up and went to hug Killer from behind. “Well, let’s get going, birthday boy, or the captain might feed us to the sharks.”

Killer chuckles, “I doubt it. He loves us too much to do that.”

You both dressed up and went to the others. Everyone is having a blast. You can hear them from where your room is. The night went well, and you’re enjoying the rock session Kid and Killer started with Killer being the drummer when the ship doctor approached you.

“How are you feeling now?” Emma asked. “Is that alcohol?!” snatching away the drink in your hand.

“Come on, Emma. I’m fine, and this’ll be the last time I can enjoy that.” trying to get your drink back from her hands.

“Are you seriously thinking of harming your child, Y/N?” she whispered harshly at you with wide eyes.

You stared at her, then sighed, “I am not. A’ight? Now give that back. I’ll look suspicious if I don’t drink.”

“Not if you’re feeling unwell.” Emma called one of the crew members nearby and gave the alcohol to him. Telling him you can’t drink because of an upset stomach.

Emma stayed by your side all night while Killer enjoyed his time with the other crew members. “He’s so respected, isn’t he?” you suddenly blurted out.

“Of course, he is. He’s the second strongest next to the captain and takes good care of all of us. Not to mention the special care towards you.” she gave you a knowing look. You hummed in agreement, a smile ghosting your face.

“He’ll be a good father, too, Y/N. I can envision it.” she added.

You didn’t answer and just gazed at Killer from a distance. Emma doesn’t need to let you know because you can see it, too. However, the timing isn’t right. There’s so much that Killer wants to do to help his partner, his best friend, and you can’t let yourself hinder that. Not you. Not this child.

III.

Six months later…

Kid approaches Killer, who’s busy thrashing the life out of a pirate from a crew they ambushed. “Killer. We’re done here. Let’s get back to Victoria.”

His words were brushed aside, and Killer continued to use the pirate as a punching bag. Killer’s been like this since you left without a word. He was letting out his frustrations of not being able to find your whereabouts on mindlessly and mercilessly killing anyone, earning him the title of 'Massacre Soldier'.

*flashback*

A few days after his birthday, the Victoria Punk docked on an island to get supplies. You went out with some of your crew members to shop when you split yourself from them in the middle of town and hired a boat to stow away. 

At least, that’s what they all thought.

When, in fact, you return to the ship and hide somewhere you know they won’t find. You then waited for the right time to snuck out. Feeling sorry for the citizens who got hooked up on your own dilemma when your crew, together with Kid and Killer, almost flipped the island upside down just to find you.

You took it as a chance to escape and sailed away with a boat you bought in the morning. Stopped at the nearest island and snuck on a merchant’s ship you didn’t even know where it was heading. You did that a few more times until you ended up on a secluded island. Far from where you’ve been. Far from marines and pirates. Far from the man you love.

It was in an isolated area in the New World where help was impossible. The island's living conditions were poor but peaceful, and the island folks were friendly. You started your new life there, with the little soul blossoming in your belly. 

You changed your name and your looks. Cut your hair. The purple hair Killer loved so much is now dyed silver. Your red eyes, once shining like a sparkling flame that Killer loved to stare at, have now changed to green. You were unrecognizable unless someone assessed you carefully.

You found yourself an abandoned small hut up in the mountains. It looked like no one had ever lived there for a long time, so you settled in and began your single life there.

Meanwhile…

“Who did you say was pregnant?! Y/N?!” Kid growled at Emma. The doctor felt shivers run down her spine. She’s standing in front of the big four while being circled by the crew.

“Y-yes, captain.” she answered meekly.

“Then why didn’t you tell us immediately?!?!” Kid was furious in disbelief. He was as worried as Killer when you disappeared without a trace. Killer, on the other hand, clenched his fists so hard in an attempt to stop himself from punching the doctor. He doesn’t care if she’s a woman. He’s so mad right now he wants to wring her neck right there and then for keeping your pregnancy a secret from him.

“For the record, captain, I did not PURPOSELY keep it a secret from all of you, especially from Killer-san,” Emma said in a defense. “God knows how hard I persuaded Y/N to get her to confess the matter to him. It didn’t even come to me that she would leave us. In fact…” and she trailed off.

Killer didn’t like the sudden halt. It ticked him off. “Why did you stop, Emma? Continue.” he said, but Emma was hesitant. “I said CONTINUE!” he shouted.

Everyone flinched and was surprised at Killer’s sudden outburst. He was usually calm and collected, but right now, he’s different. He’s trying to suppress his anger because he might go on a rampage if not.

Emma exhaled sharply before saying, “In fact, I thought she would most likely abort the baby.” without missing a beat.

Killer held his breath after hearing the doctor’s words. He was wondering if you really thought of aborting his child. Kid broke the awkward silence and asked the doctor, “What made you think she would do that?”

“Well, because when we confirmed it at the clinic the other day, during Killer-san’s birthday, she had a panic attack, telling me over and over that it shouldn’t happen. The baby, I mean.”

Killer’s shoulders dropped, which Kid noticed. It pains him to see his best friend getting crushed by the news.

The doctor continued, looking at Killer, “Killer-san, please don’t think badly of Y/N. It’s not like she doesn’t want the baby. It was only my initial opinion after seeing her fit in my clinic.”

“I was with her all night during your birthday celebration. I saw how she lovingly stared at you while gently caressing her belly. She was doing it unconsciously, I think. She even stopped drinking alcohol and taking caffeine since then, and you know how she loved her iced coffee.” Emma finished.

“She can’t live without it,” said Killer, to which everyone agreed. They know you can consume up to 8 servings of iced coffee daily.

“I believe she left because she doesn’t want to burden anyone and that the captain wouldn’t be happy to know about it. She was just thinking about all of us and how it may affect everyone.” Emma concluded.

“That dumb woman.” Kid gruffed. “Why the hell won’t I be fucking happy if she’s carrying my niece! Or nephew, whatever!” He turned towards Killer, “We’re going to find that stupid woman of yours, Killer. Even if we need to re-route.”

Killer nods, grateful to his captain, “I owe you, Kid.”

“No, we owe her. Also, she insults me for leaving this crew like that. Doesn’t she know by now that she’s my family, too?” Kid may be violent, stubborn, and grumpy, but he considers you his sister. You took care of him and his crew and did a lot to help him, too, so he’s quite disappointed with your actions. He hoped you could be more selfish than selfless.

*end*

Going back to the present, Killer only stopped thrashing the poor pirate when he felt satisfied. There were still no clues about you, and he became increasingly worried as the day passed. Knowing that you’re living by yourself with your growing belly in god knows where for half a year now.

“We’ll stop by the next island we see to get some supplies, and then we’ll continue to look around for Y/N.” Kid said to where Killer only nodded in acknowledgment. They went back to Victoria, and as usual, after cleaning up, Killer went to the kitchen to grab some beer. It has been a routine for him to drown himself in booze because it helps to calm his nerves and fall asleep. He had difficulty getting some sleep since you left, causing him to get insomnia.

A few days later, the Kid Pirates stumbled upon a small island that was quite isolated. It doesn’t seem like they’ll get their needed supplies in there, but they still need to dock to check and do maintenance on the ship. So they did.

“Killer, wake up!” Kid bangs on his door. “We’re docked on an island! Move your ass and get some fresh air before you rot to death!” he called.

Killer eventually went out to walk around the island to see if there were any supplies they could buy. At first, he was hesitant but thought he couldn’t always act like a child and should help the crew with the other tasks to lessen the workload.

He was looking around some stalls when he heard a familiar laugh, making him stop dead in his tracks. It was a laugh he had longed to hear. He did a quick turn to scan his surroundings, hoping to find his favorite purple hair that he hadn’t seen for six months, but to no avail. No purple-haired woman was around, but he could still hear the familiar laughter. 

After carefully examining the area, his eyes then found the source. On a stall a few feet away, there was a silver-haired woman with her back turned against him, talking happily to the stall owner. She was the one laughing. He stared at the woman for a long time until she turned slightly at an angle that made it possible for Killer to see the side of her face. Silver hair and green eyes. He first thought it couldn’t be you until he noticed her bulging belly. 

Was it really you? He felt his heart stopped at that moment. Breaking out in cold sweat, hands trembling, he slowly walked over to where you are—then stopped. He started having doubts. 

Do you hate him? 

Do you still love him?

What will you feel once you see him? Scared? Hatred?

Thoughts were running wild in his head, making it more difficult for him to approach you. So he decided to tail behind you instead, as discreetly as he could. He doesn’t want to surprise you and wants to check how you live your life here on the island.

“Uhm, hey, do you know who that woman is?” Killer asked the owner of the stall he was at.

The owner glanced in the direction he was pointing, “Oh, that was Marie. She’s pretty, right? Such a sweet girl. Poor thing was abandoned by the man who got her pregnant. Tsk, that scumbag…”

Killer looked curiously at the old man. “Abandoned?”

“Well, it wasn’t confirmed, but others said that. She’s a very nice kid but don’t talk much about her life before she ended up here. She lives in the mountains by herself. Occasionally, some of us visit her to buy some of her vegetables. She usually goes down here to sell them, but since her belly is growing fast, we told her to stop going up and down the mountains, or it’ll strain her and her baby. Would you like to buy some of these?” As thanks to the information he heard, Killer bought some of the stuff the old man was selling. 

You started walking away, so he followed behind. You notice a presence following you, but no one is there whenever you turn around to check.

IV.

You felt chills but ignored the foreboding feeling. It could’ve been some pregnancy blues. But your anxiety about being discovered by the Kid Pirates was still there. Still, it has already been half a year, and they might’ve been too busy now to even think of you. You could still get some updates about them from time to time. The last thing you read about your former crew was their time in Sabaody two months after you left.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t hurt by the thought that they could move on quickly after your disappearance. Whether Emma told them about your pregnancy or not, it might’ve been unimportant, just as you thought. It only confirms your belief that you and the baby burden the crew. 

However, sometimes you can’t help but think about Killer. What was his reaction after knowing about the baby?

Was he mad? Was he happy?

Did he try to find you?

Did he even know you are pregnant?

Tears would always well up in your eyes whenever you thought of him. You still love him after a long time, but you assumed that what you did was right. Tying Killer in an obligation he didn’t plan to have was the last thing you wanted for him.

Seeing your small abode gave you relief. Ascending and descending the mountains was quite strenuous; even the folks worried about you. But being alone up here can be lonely, and there is a need for someone to talk to. 

Entering your small hut, you went straight to bed to rest. Your belly is protruding, making you consider whether you’re in your 6th month of pregnancy or not. Its size is kind of exaggerated. You can’t do much about it, though, since there’s no doctor available on this island. The things you do to take care of yourself and the baby inside you came from the tips and tricks shared with you by the old folks and fellow mothers living there.

There’s a sudden kick from your belly, a hyper one. It feels like the baby is getting excited for some reason. “Hey bud, what got you so active today, huh? You never kicked me like that before,” you said while caressing your bump. The baby answered with another strong kick, and it made you laugh.

You kept talking to your bump when a knock came on your door. It wasn’t loud, but it was strong. You’re not expecting any visitors from the folks, so you’re curious about who it could be. You slowly got up and went to open it.

“So you just open the door like that without even asking who it is.” says the man standing before you.

You turned pale and were speechless. Heart beating faster than ever you swear he can also hear it. Your grip on the door tightens, making your knuckles turn white.

“How can you be so careless, Y/N.” the man added, staring intently into your eyes.

You can’t find your words; even if you did, you know you’ll choke on them. He caught you by surprise, and you feel cornered. It was Killer. How he’s able to find you, you have no freaking idea. This island is isolated, and it’s rare for pirates, even the marines, to stop by, making it the perfect place to live your life in seclusion.

Trying to maintain your facade, you said, “I-I’m sorry, sir, but you might be mistaken. M-my na-name is Marie and not Y/N. I-is th-there anything I c-can help you?” mentally smacking your head for stuttering.

“Really? We’re going to continue playing this game, Y/N? ‘Cause I’m getting fuckin’ tired of this shit.” his words were like venom. It stings.

Killer slowly entered the hut. He was more buffer than before. If he pounces at you, you’ll be crushed for sure. Then you notice the thing that he’s holding: knives. 

Is he going to kill you?!

Are you and the baby that bothersome that he needed to dispose of you?

You can feel the anxiety building up, and you start to have a panic attack. Breathing became hard, and you felt a sharp pain in your stomach like it was twisting.

Killer noticed how you clenched tightly at your belly, and your face painted an expression of pain. He quickly grabbed you by the arms in worry, but you shuddered at the contact, resulting in you pushing him away by force.

He was stunned. The face you’re making now, never in his dreams did he think he’d see you make that expression towards him. You were utterly terrified.

“Please don’t touch me. Spare me and my child’s life, please. Have mercy.” you kneeled in front of him, eyes closed, crying, clasping your hands like in prayer, begging for him not to kill you and the baby in your tummy. 

Killer can’t believe what he’s seeing. Why did it end up like this? You were both happy and loving one day, but now you see him as a monster trying to kill you.

It breaks his heart to see you in this state. He doesn’t know what he did for you to be this terrified, but if you only knew how hard he tried to look for you. How happy he was to know you’re carrying his child. It may not be at the right time, but to hell with that. 

You were cowering in fear when you heard a metal clasp unfastening and then a loud thud of something hitting the floor. You cautiously opened your eyes to see what it was and saw Killer’s mask. On the floor.

“Hi, baby.” you heard him say. His tone was soft and sweet, like how he lulls you to sleep every night back in Victoria. You feel his hands slowly cupping your face, guiding you to look at him. “Look at me. Please.”

There was a moment of hesitation before you gathered the courage to meet his gaze. For so long, you had hoped to see those beautiful blue eyes again, even for one last time, and now it was staring back at you.

He was looking at you tenderly while he wiped your tears. Not even a minute passed when you saw his tears flowing freely down his face, too. His lips are quivering like he was trying his best not to be so vulnerable in front of you. But he can’t stop. He waited for this moment to see you and finally hold you. 

He pressed his forehead onto yours, and you stayed in that position for a while. No words. Just feeling the presence of each other. It was comforting. It was familiar.

Living alone wasn’t bad, but it sure as hell was lonely, and you bear with it. But now that Killer is here, even with anxiety and fear, the same feeling he gives you is there. You feel safe. You feel at home.

Your tensed body became more and more relaxed, and you were able to regain even breaths, the panic attack subsiding. It may be the longing that pushed you, but you thoughtlessly kissed him. He jolted in surprise but answered back with the same level of intensity. You lap on each other hungrily while gripping one another tightly as if one of you will suddenly vanish into thin air. It only stopped when you both needed to gasp for air.

“I fucking missed you,” Killer said in between breaths. “Please don’t do that again. You’re killing me.” pain apparent in his voice, and you could only nod in agreement.

“Let’s go home… back to Victoria. Yeah?” he asked, tucking away a strand of your hair behind your ears. You're too emotional to say anything so you nodded profusely.

Killer helped you stand up when you felt the same twisting pain again in your belly. You clenched on your stomach, breathing heavily. You felt something flowing down your legs. When you looked at it, you started to panic again. It was blood.

Blood was streaming down your legs, and you never felt so scared in your life. You were even more afraid now than when you saw Killer a while ago.

“Killer… Oh fuck… Oh fuck… The baby. Our baby. Oh my god…” you were frantic, and then you suddenly fainted. 

Killer was quick to catch you, but he was horrified. He never ran as fast as he did today. He was scared shitless. He sprints back to Victoria with you in his arms, and the first thing he does once aboard is yell out Emma’s name, which startles the crew.

Emma came rushing and saw Killer carrying a woman in a bloodied state. She was confused until Killer said, “It’s Y/N. Sh-she’s bleeding. A lot.” 

“Fuck. To the clinic, quickly.” although shocked, she understood the assignment. 

Upon hearing your name, everyone stopped what they were doing and followed Killer and Emma. The others went to get their captain. The Victoria Punk was in total chaos again that night.

V.

Rugged, heavy footsteps are heard closing in by the clinic area. After hearing what had happened, Kid rushed towards the infirmary. There, he saw a disoriented Killer pacing back and forth in front of the clinic.

“Killer,” he called out to his first mate, but Killer was too occupied to notice his arrival. Kid grabbed him by his right shoulder to let him know he was there. 

When Killer realized it was Kid, he felt a little at ease. “Your mask.” Kid added, giving Killer a knowing look. He had never seen his best friend this lost, even forgetting to wear his precious mask, but he understood how severe the matter was.

“I finally found her, Kid.” Killer said in an anguished voice. He was looking at Kid, but his bangs covered his eyes. “We made up, and she agreed to return. Then she…she was…” his voice started to crack, “she was suddenly bleeding. She fainted, an-and s-she was so pale…”

Kid tightens his grip on Killer’s shoulder, reassuring him. “Oi, Y/N’s going to be fine. Don’t fucking underestimate her. She’s one of us, and there’s no way in hell she won’t pull through this.”

Rubbing a hand down his face, Killer agreed, “Yeah, she is… Of course, she is.”

Kid patted his shoulder, “Get it together, buddy. Take a rest. I’ll wait here.”. He was reluctant, but Kid insisted he take a breather. Being anxious won’t do him any good. He needs to trust that you and the baby are in capable hands. 

But he just can’t leave. You have already suffered enough. The least he could do is stay outside and wait until Emma gives any news about your situation. He also wants to be the first person you’ll see once you wake up. 

“I’m fine. I’ll wait for her here.” Killer declared, walking over to sit on the side of the door. 

Kid didn’t push for it anymore. He knows how stubborn Killer can be if he wants it, so they both wait outside the clinic for the next hour or two when they finally hear the click of the clinic’s door opening. Emma emerges from inside, startled to see the two men towering over her.

“How is she?” they said in unison.

“Ghaaad… Don’t pop out of nowhere like that. You just gave me a mini heart attack.” she remarked, her right hand on her chest.

But Killer doesn’t have time for a chit-chat. He’s been so anxious all this time, “Emma…” he grumbled, which the doctor understood as ‘I don’t give a fuck. Give me an update.’ kind of tone.

“Okay… Okay… First of all, Y/N’s stable, and the reaper won’t be visiting anytime soon.” Hearing it lifts a heavy weight on Killer and Kid’s shoulders. They didn’t even realize they’d been holding their breaths until now. 

“You should see her, although she’s still sleeping.” the doctor mused at Killer. “She’s been calling out your name the whole time.” Killer felt a knot in his chest. You’re probably still scared with all that happened.

“By the way, Cap’n, I need all the help we can get for another matter.“ Emma added, turning over to Kid.

“What is it?”

“You see, Y/N lost a lot of blood because of the bleeding, and it was only fortunate of me to be able to stop it. Thank the heavens. But the damage had been done, and if we don’t find a blood donor for her and do a blood transfusion soon, she might suffer from anemia, which can cause her complications when she finally gives birth. Of course, we don’t want that.” Emma explained. 

Killer tensed at the information. He doesn’t want you to suffer anymore during your pregnancy, and if he could only swap places with you, he would.

He started to turn and walk away, probably to get help, but Kid stopped him. “Didn’t you hear what Emma said? Go to Y/N. I’ll handle the rest.” Kid patted him on his shoulder, then left.

Emma guided Killer to where you were, and there, he saw you peacefully sleeping, with an oxygen mask and other apparatus sticking to your body to help monitor your condition. The doctor then asked to take her leave to help your captain gather the possible blood donors and check their compatibility with you. 

Killer watches over you the entire day and never leaves your side. Some of your crewmates would pass by to ask about your condition and check on their vice-captain. Kid went back to check on both of you as well and to give Killer the new mask he created, but Killer, for the first time, didn’t want to wear it. He said he’d like to make sure you’ll see his face first rather than his mask.

Although a man who doesn’t know emotions, Kid respects his best friend's sentiment and gives him the time he needs to be with you. He strictly told everyone not to bother the first mate and to go directly to him, wire or heat for anything.

The next couple of days that followed were uneventful; the blood transfusion was a success, and who would’ve thought that the best possible match to donate blood to you was your captain, Kid. It's a good thing Kid wasn’t drinking at that time, so he was able to transfer his blood to you readily. You stayed in the infirmary for a whole week until Emma deemed you were well enough to walk around and move again.

Despite that, Killer was stern to keep you in bed. He insists you get more bed rest, or you might bleed again. The poor guy was quite traumatized, but you couldn’t say no, considering that you saw the state he was in when you finally woke up. 

He was sleeping, his head rested on the side of your bed, his hands were on your stomach, and the other was holding yours. You can still remember how tight his grip on your hands was like he was making sure you’ll still be there once he opened his eyes. You caressed his blonde hair with your free hand, and he jerked his head up instantly. You saw how tired he looked, exhaustion obvious in his beautiful face. You were even surprised he wasn’t wearing his mask.

Looking at him tenderly, caressing his face gently, you said his name, and all he could do was kiss your hands and gave you a series of I love you, and I’m sorry.

Emma, fill you in on what happened after you lost consciousness. “I wanna slap you so hard your head would go 360 on me, but then again…” she trailed off a bit before continuing. Guilt showing on her face. If she could’ve just supported you properly and earnestly, you probably wouldn’t have thought of leaving in the first place. “I’m glad you’re alive and now safe. I literally thought of poisoning myself to death if I failed to save you and the baby on time.” she chuckled, teary-eyed.

“Hey, don’t say that! You saved us, see? I’m breathing, and my baby’s well. You’ve already done so much for us, Emma. To be honest, if I only heeded your advice back then…” Emma stopped you, covering your mouth with her hand.

“Let’s not talk about that anymore. All’s well that ends well. Yes?” and you agreed. There’s no point in talking about the past. 

You cleared the misunderstanding between you and Killer. You’re back with your pirate family and the man you love, and everything is returning to normal. 

That is, after a long, heart-to-heart-ish conversation with your captain, though. You found it more challenging to talk to Kid than when you talked it out with Killer. He’s your captain, after all, and what you did was a disrespect to the man you swore your loyalty with. 

*Flashback*

You’re resting in your and Killer’s bedroom when you hear a knock on the door, and it opens. Thinking it was Killer, you slowly turned around to greet him, but the one staring back at you wasn’t Killer, but Eustass Kid, and you weren’t ready to have a conversation with him yet.

“Captain…” you mumbled softly.

His face was as grumpy as usual, “Don’t call me captain if you’re not going to stick around with me.”  he said flatly.

You can only bow your head in embarrassment and guilt. No form of apology you can give can amend the trust you broke when you left the crew behind. Kid might be furious but was only trying his best to contain it for Killer’s sake. You felt your eyes getting wet with the tears trying to fall.

“I-I’m so sorry, captain… It was never my intention to disrespect you and to hurt Killer. I-I only did it for the cre-...” You couldn’t finish your words because of what he did next.

Kid sat beside you, facing your direction, and forcedly hugged you. You winced in surprise but then relaxed after a few seconds. “Stupid,” he muttered. “I never asked for you to do everything or anything on your own. Don’t I always tell you to look after yourself more?”

His hug was tight but comforting. His arms were so strong that he could crush you instantly, but he was gentle to you instead. There was no hostility in that hug. Just a pure, genuine, loving hug. Like what a brother would give to his little sister.

Now the tears have finally escaped your eyes, and you could only hug him back while wailing out your apologies, to which Kid only listens. He was never good at emotions and words, so this is how he thought he could express his worries for you. Hoping you get the message and you did.

After a good 10 minutes, he broke the hug and stared at you. “Listen, Y/N. I fucking hate this moment with all this drama and shit, it’s awkward. But I’m fuckin’ doing it for you. Do you understand what I’m getting at?” you gave him a hearty laugh. 

Of course you do. The gesture was enough to make you feel that whatever you do, he’s your captain but is also your friend. The bond you shared with him and your pledge when you first joined his crew won’t change and falter. In fact, it might’ve been more substantial than before. His donating his blood to you says a lot about it. It was as if the transfusion was a blood pact sealing the bond between you.

Kid never hid the fact that he was still disappointed in you, though, and that you should make it up to him. You gladly agreed and promised to make him as many cabbage rolls as you can. 

*End*

The awkward, teary conversation ends there because prolonging the drama would surely make Kid sick. His letting you see his soft side was already a big deal on his part, and you sincerely appreciate the gesture.

The Victoria Punk was already sailing when you woke up, and here you are, walking around the deck to get some fresh air. Finally, you’re at peace. Everything has come to the right place after six months of hiding and guilt-tripping. You’ve found yourself back in the arms of the man you love so much, and your baby is safe and sound. What more can you ask for?

Strong, familiar arms wrap around you from behind. Their hands stop at your belly. “What causes you to think so deeply? Hmm?” Killer said while planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“Everything that had happened, I guess. Still can’t believe it was all because of my selfishness and failure to communicate properly with you.” you answered in all honesty.

Killer tensed and slowly turned you around to face him. “Hey, aren’t we done with that?” he asked, cupping your face.

You nod, “Yes, we are. It's just… it would still come to mind occasionally. But I’m fine.” you smile at him while holding his hands.

“Emma said you should stop thinking about stressful things. You shouldn’t even think of it at all.” you didn’t answer and just stared at him lovingly. He’s not perfect, and he has killed a lot of people. The same goes for you. You’re not sure if both of you will be good parents, but as long as the child gets his father’s traits, they will definitely grow as a good person.

You hugged Killer tightly, to his surprise. “I love you, Kil. I really do.”

“Where is this coming from? I love you more, of course.” he hugs you back, though not tightly, so as not to put pressure on your tummy when there’s a sudden kick from your belly. 

Both of you glance at each other before bursting into laughter. But Killer suddenly halted and cleared his throat. “Why’d you stop? You know how much we love hearing your laugh.” then there’s another visible kick from your tummy as if the baby agrees with you. “See? Our baby likes it, too. We love how you laugh, so no need to be ashamed of it.”

Killer only scratches his head, but you know he’s blushing inside that mask. He kneels in front of you to level himself with your belly. “Hey, bud. We love you, too. Please don’t make it too hard for momma. We don’t want to trouble her, right?” The baby kicked again like he was conversing with his father.

“I’m starting to get jealous. They’re more active when it’s you.” you pouted, which Killer only chuckled in return.

“Don’t worry, baby.” he said, standing up, “It only means they’re just like you since you love my attention, too.” he added, which made you blush.

“Stupid.” you retorted—face burning red.

“Hey, fuckin’ lovebirds! C’mere!” Kid shouted from a distance, and you know exactly what it is for.

“He’s still at it?” you ask Killer in disbelief.

“Well, he’s too excited, I guess.” he shrugged.

You made your way to Kid’s workshop to be presented with his current masterpiece. “Think it’s good. This one’s better, aye?” Kid asked.

You face-palmed after seeing the finished ‘project,’ as Kid calls it. “What version is this already?” you asked back.

Kid thought for a minute before answering, “version 9.” he said blatantly.

“Are you trying to open up a baby store?! Because at this rate, I think you do.” Killer grab your shoulders to calm you down.

“Don’t care. The others aren’t perfect.”

Kid’s so-called ‘project’ is creating a baby crib suitable for your child, and he was so passionate about it that he kept making an upgraded version. The one he’s presenting right now is the 9th crib he made this week.

“You do realize that you’re more excited than us parents, right?” you teased Kid—an amused grin forming on your lips.

Kid went silent at the accusation and slowly blushed in embarrassment. “I AM NOT!” he shouted.

You laughed so hard at his reaction and continued teasing, “Uh-huh. If you say so, Uncle Kid.” you said, emphasizing the last part. You grab Killer out of the workshop before you hear Kid yelling profanities at you.

“I think he likes his new title.” you told Killer while you both walked back to your shared room.

“He sure does.” Killer retorted, chuckling.

[bats-and-birds-24]

Chapter 11:

Tim silently wept, as Talia took him to his room. He knew that Jason had no reason to like him, but to think that he hated Batman and didn’t want him to be Robin at all broke him. In his mind’s eye, he could still see Jason’s face simmering with rage. In that moment, he looked nothing at all like the blazingly energetic kid Tim used to idolize.

Talia steered him to the bed and pulled up a chair next to him. 

In between his quiet sobs, all he could get out was, “Why did he get so mad?”

Talia collected herself and began to explain, "That is complicated child, it is a mix of many separate factors, such as the pit rage, an after effect of his resurrection, and then there are Jason’s own unresolved feelings on being Robin.”

As Tim’s tears began to dry and frustration faded, his curiosity was roused, “Are you saying that Jason didn’t want to be Robin?”

“Not quite,” Talia scooted closer to him, “He loved being Robin, but he also loved just having a roof over his head, food on the table, and access to an education. The fact that he was able to help others in his situation was just an added benefit. He was Bruce’s son first, and Robin second.”

As Tim took in the information, he asked, “So that’s why he thinks Bruce used him. He assumed Bruce would treat him like his son, but after he died, he thought he was just Robin to him, a tool.”

Talia smiled, Tim was quick on the uptake, she could see why Bruce chose him to be the next Robin. “Bruce is brilliant, stubborn, skilled, and desperately wants to do good in the world. For all his strengths,  he was never good at understanding people. He just saw that being Robin helped Richard, and assumed that it would do the same for Jason, despite their different temperaments and needs.”

Tim could hardly believe what he was hearing, “Are you saying that Jason shouldn’t have been Robin?” Jason suited the role of Robin perfectly, however, his mind supplied, maybe the role didn’t suit him.

Talia continued, “No, Jason was fated to be Robin. The problem arises from the fact that Bruce treated Jason’s Robin the same way he treated Dick’s Robin. He knew that he would never replace John Grayson in Dick’s life, and treated him as such, but for Jason, both Bruce and Batman were his father. It’s why Dick wouldn’t have been tricked by Sheila, not because he was a better Robin, but because his parents death had shattered his trust in adults. It took Bruce a long time to rebuild that trust, to help him heal, he would have left Sheila in some other capable hands and left at the first sign of trouble. Jason’s faith in humanity was restored when he was taken in by Bruce, so he had no reason to trust that his own so-called ‘mother’ would sell him out to the Joker. Jason’s trust was destroyed after he was brought back from his death.”

Tim nodded mutely. It made perfect sense, Dick saw Robin as a way to get back the crime that had caused the loss of his parents, much like Bruce did, Jason saw Robin as a way to free people from crime. If only Bruce had understood this!

Talia stood up, “Young detective, I’ll be taking my leaving now, I hope you understand where Jason is coming from.”

Tim followed her lead and stood up as well, “Yes, of course, but, could you do me a favor? Can you please tell Jason that I didn’t mean to upset him?” He glanced up at Talia, pleading silently.

She quirked a smile, “I think Jason already knows that, but I’ll make sure to reiterate it.”

Tim gave her a faint smile as she left the room, “Thank You.”

Jason winced at the memory of  meeting Tim for the first time. He looked so excited and hopeful, he had idolized him. All that was crushed because of Jason’s jealousy and spite. Despite this, he still believed that he was right, Bruce was just using the kid to be Robin, and once he’s killed, or broken in some way, he’ll just cast him aside to get a newer model. A part of him bitterly thinks that this must be how Dick felt when he became Robin.

He was wallowing in his emotions when he heard a knock at the door. He already had a feeling as to who it was. 

Talia’s smile from her conversation with Tim vanished when she saw Jason’s state. His eyes were red and puffy, tear tracks were visible on his face and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

“Come here habibi.” She pulled Jason close to him. She could feel Jason whisper into her shoulder, “Why didn’t he learn anything?”

Talia pulls them apart, “Oh, child, but he did change.” Jason gave her a choked laugh, “From what I’ve heard, not for the better.” 

She sighed, “That’s true, but to clarify some of your previous doubts, Bruce didn’t manipulate Tim into becoming Robin. He did that on his own.”

Jason frowned at that, “You can’t be serious, I have my fair share of issues with B, but Tim couldn’t have stayed under the radar from him. Especially not if Tim was telling the truth about following us around since he was a child.”

She sat down on a nearby ottoman and began to explain, “That’s what I thought as well, until I began to do my own research. Tim was only ever caught by Bruce once, and following the event, there was a gap of two months where he stopped following you two. When he started stalking you again, he wasn’t caught. I believe that this is because he used his time off to study Bruce’s patterns of observation and used it to stay off his radar.”

Jason was shocked speechless when he heard that. An ugly, pit tainted part of him sneered, “It seems that even at your best, he was still better than you.” As his thoughts swirled in his mind, there was nothing but silence.

Talia got up and prepared to leave when she heard Jason’s shaky voice, “Talia, can, can you tell Tim that I’m sorry for lashing out at him? I,I didn’t mean to…” he trailed off.

A gentle smile graced Talia’s face, “I’ll be sure to pass the message onto him.”

Jason muttered a thanks and laid back down, trying to push away the green seeping into his vision. He was so, so tired.

[azullumi]

wanderer x rtawahist darshan scholar reader, who really overworks themselves and almost always gets sleepless nights because of their occupation in rtawahist, and so wanderer often finds reader either sleepy (or sleeping) in the akademiya's library, or on some open grounds where they can stargaze not only for their studies, but for themselves, and wanderer js either can't see them so sleepless and forces reader to go to sleep, or he watches the stars with them༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

“the night we met” ; wanderer

details — the first time you met him, it was a night similar to this one, but for him, it was different ; you reminisce with him with the stars as your witness.

includes — wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, not that much dialogue, word vomit, not proofread ; one-shot

note — i hope u like this one T.T i tried to incorporate every detail in the ask jhahwhaha (i could have done better with this one but i had to finisb it before i go to sleep or else this will rot in my drafts)

“there you are.”

a voice pierced through the silence of the night, the coldness of the wind was harsh against your skin in contrast to the softness of his tone. wanderer’s footsteps soon became louder as he drew closer to you and you slightly turned your head to look at him in the corner of your eye.

you greet him with a small smile, “what are you doing here?”

he scoffs, “a certain someone chose to work instead of sleeping.” you couldn’t contain the chuckle that bubbles out of your throat; you knew that it was you that he was talking about and you couldn’t come up with an argument against it so you choose to remain silent, looking back at the stars instead. a dark blanket covered the whole sky, adorned with fragments that sparkled and twinkled at you, some of it were bright and some were faint–stars. you have dedicated nearly your whole life to studying the existence of it.

“do you remember the first time we met?” you break the silence that covered you both. 

you remember the day clearly, you recall when you first laid your eyes on him and how the world seemed to still when your gaze meets his. you could never forget it. the stars and the moon bore witness to the moment two beings who never knew each other became intertwined–if you were to be asked if you believe in fate and how the stars write it for you, you would bring that up.

at least that’s what you knew.

“i do,” he answers, softness lacing his tone.

the first time he met you, it was in the house of daena.

tall built-in bookcases were found on each and every wall that covers the place, filled with books of various thickness. multiple chandeliers in the shape of a flower hang low from the ceiling, illuminating the place with a cool glow, then at the center of the room was a lift. and in one of the tables in the library, there you were, sleeping peacefully with a few stack of books surrounding your head.

in normal occasions, he would have paid no mind to your figure hunched over the wooden surface and this was one of those normal occasions. however, the next day came and he saw you in the same spot, except this time, you were awake. your eyebrows were knitted into one and your lips were forming a scowl. you were deeply focused on something, gaze often shifting around the table as your hands flipped through books.

he learned that you were an rtawahist scholar, passionate about astronomy and astrology to the point that you overwork yourself and sleep in the library nearly everyday. it was like you live in this place from how he always sees you here each day of the week; how would he know that? simple, it’s because he’s also there every time. he couldn’t understand what was going on with himself, why is it that he chooses to come to this place when he’ll only linger for a short amount of time and why is it that his eyes would always seek for you every single time he enters the library. what started as a small curiosity that blooms and spreads across his chest birthed something like this, something like approaching you one day as you sleep without care on top of your papers.

he arrives by your side with ease and you were still sleeping. he took this chance to take a closer look at you, at what you were studying and writing for the past few weeks: the study of stars, the truth in our stars, a collection on astrology, astronomy, the man and the moon, and many more. but honestly, that’s not the thing he came here for. the look on your face was soft, mouth slightly parted and a content sigh slipped past it. your hair was messy, perhaps from all that ruffling you did due to frustration, some loose and all over your features.

but you suddenly groaned and roused up from your sleep and he had to pretend that he was looking at the bookcase on the side, acting like he was looking for something. he hears you scrambling over your desk, panicking and picking up some books in a frantic manner before leaving–he heard you mutter something about stargazing and fields underneath your breath.

“it was also a night like this.” you say with a short laughter in the end, the sound of it tangling with the breeze that caresses your skin. for you, that night was the first you met him and for him, it was the moment that he knew why he kept on coming to that library.

you believed that the stars had aligned for your paths to cross together; but your destiny doesn’t lie in those cosmic dust sprinkled all across the night sky but rather in the man who you knew underneath it.

i’m glad i met you, he wasn’t even able to get the first word out when he held off his tongue and chose to say something else instead. “when was the last time you slept?”

you frown, “what a way to ruin the moment.”

“you wouldn’t say that once you’re crippled and weak in bed just because you don’t take care of yourself more.” he retorts and before you were given a chance to reply, he speaks, “let’s go home, shall we?” he can’t bear seeing you looking like some sort of corpse with the fatigue evident on the lines on your face.

“there’s no need to rush. let’s watch the stars for a little bit longer.” the sky is clear, the night is silent, and despite the frigid wind, you feel warm. the moon shines brightly, casting a tender blue light on your skin, and you look breathtaking as ever in his eyes. how could he say no when you looked like the epitome of forgiveness and softness basking underneath the moon’s light?

“fine.” your expression brightens. “but only just a few minutes.” he adores you, so much so. he’d even give you the sun if you asked him.

yours and his truth—about your first encounter, and perhaps the essence of your being and his—may be different from one another but he knows of the truth that he loves you just as much as you loved the stars; he may not be made of cosmic energy and light but you’ll love him the same and even more.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[ambiguouslady42]

Hey Steph, Congratulations on your follower milestone!! So proud of you, my dear!! 😘🫶🏼✨

As for my self ship, of course it is Satoru and I (Satolia). I knew I needed to make that boy mine when I met him. I swear the stars aligned when we first kissed and our atoms recognized one another at first glance. We are very playful with each other, but I know that if we were ever in grave danger, I'd wanna be next to him til the end.

We love to cuddle together when it's raining outside. Watching cheesy movies together and sending each other reels that remind us of one another is how we show our affection. Our PDA is kept on the DL (tho, you'll catch Satoru intertwining his hand into mine in public bc some guy looked at me the wrong way). He makes me forget about the world around us and puts me in the center of his.

Hi Mia! Thank you so much for signing up for my event! The songs I chose for you are extremely close to my heart. These are not just about love, but also the concept of forever. I felt very emotional (in a good way) putting your playlist together, along with writing your drabble. I hope I hit the mark with how you feel about Satoru Gojo. I know he's a special guy.

From that first kiss, you knew that it was meant to be. You look at Satoru Gojo’s ocean-blue eyes, with a look of determination and promise. The journey as a couple is playful and full of hope. One evening, he wanted to go out on a drive in the wee hours of the night, so he called you. He drove until it was nearly morning. When you caught the sunrise together, he promised you the world. He kisses you again, feeling the warmth of his lips surge throughout your body, competing with the warmth of the morning sun. You vowed to never forget this moment with him. 

The early days of a relationship make you feel that you’re unstoppable. Stolen kisses on first dates, tender lovemaking, and jet-setting whenever you can (he is rich after all). However, there are those cloudy, gray days where it feels like happiness will never exist. Your doting Satoru never faltered and always let you know that he always wanted you in his life. His hugs are ones where they’re full of need but also felt like home. That warmth that you have become familiar with is always there; you have found home with him. The sentiment is shared on days when he felt his confidence falter. You know that Satoru is fun and playful, but sometimes it is a front to mask what he is feeling. At times, he doesn’t know what to do when he feels burdened with the need to constantly be joyful. When he comes home to you, he knows that he is safe and he doesn’t need to hide how he really feels. You are his safety and his comfort, with your arms wide open for him.   

“Oh sweets, I never want to be without you,” he says. 

You run your fingers through his snowy white hair as you hold him in that embrace. He would never let go first; he could stay in your arms forever. When you ask him if you could get up to go the bathroom, he acts like a needy child. “Nope!”, before holding you tighter. If you really have to go, he’ll walk you by holding your waist as you waddle together. 

The truth is, there is nothing too big or too small that you can’t do together. If it felt like too big a task for you, he is your strength and will not let you be alone. He’ll be there for you always. You don’t need him to be perfect either, but he is perfect in the way that he makes sure that he stays by your side. If need be, it’s you and him, against the world. 

In this lifetime and the next, the love that you have for one another will not falter. This isn’t the first lifetime that you’ve been together. You will continue to find each other when the opportunity presents itself; it’s called fate.

[justdarklr]

Persona 5 Royal: Keeping Your Promise

A story about keeping a promise between two rivals, one which was thought to be impossible. That is, until they finally reunite.

MAJOR PERSONA 5 ROYAL SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!

Chapter 1: The Justice

Ren sits awake, lying in bed in the dusty attic of Leblanc, staring up at the ceiling. It was the day after he had gotten out of jail. About two weeks after they faced Maruki in his palace… and denied his reality.

He can’t help but think about him. Goro Akechi. He takes his glove out of his pocket, with a soft sigh as he does. He nearly begins crying. But he can’t. Akechi chose this fate. He knew what he was getting into. He chose this path for himself, and… Ren had to respect that. He admired it, honestly… being able to choose one’s fate so easily. Even though he… he knew he was going to…

… He chokes back a sob. He holds Akechi’s glove tightly in his hand, clasping his hands around it. He brings it close to his chest… breathing deeply.

He’s going to keep the promise they made. Together. Even if he isn’t… he isn’t here to keep it with him. Even if they aren’t together. He knows that isn’t exactly… possible, but… he’s going to try, either way. No matter what.

… He’s going to be going home soon. Back to his hometown. He won’t be there with his friends… he doesn’t know how he’ll take it. But they’ll keep in touch, at least.

He only wishes he could keep in touch with Akechi.

… Dammit! Why does he keep thinking about him?! He’s gone, Ren! GONE! So you should stop thinking about him! No matter what you think about him!! Nothing is going to bring him back!!! No matter how much you want it…!!

… Deep breaths, in and out, Ren. Deep breaths. Morgana notices that he’s hyperventilating, and hops up on the bed next to him.

“Hey. Are you doing okay?” Morgana crawls across his chest, laying next to his head.

Ren has to take a deep breath before he responds. “… I’m… I’m fine. Just… thinking about Akechi.” Morgana’s expression shifts to one of understanding.

“… I know. But what’s done is done. He chose his path, and walked it with confidence. He knew what he was doing.” Ren clasps the glove tighter.

“I know… I’m just… I miss him, Mona… I miss him so much. Why did he have to die…?” Morgana sits up.

“… I don’t know. The world isn’t fair sometimes, y’know. It really isn’t. But all we can do is move forward. We chose this path. We have to walk it, Ren. Or would you rather we stayed in Maruki’s reality?”

Ren’s breath hitches. “… No. I… I’m confident in our choice. But… but if he was able to live his life, then… maybe…!”

Morgana looks down on Ren. “… Ren… would he have wanted that?”

“N… No. He would’ve hated me for it, haha… He really would have. He’s just like that, haha…!” He wraps his arms around himself, nearly sobbing.

“Then stick with your choice, Ren. It’s what he would’ve wanted. He wouldn’t have wanted you to mourn him like this, either. He wants you to live your life, no matter if it’s with him or without him.” Ren looks at Morgana— sitting up in bed, and slowly wrapping his arms around Morgana. He squirms a bit.

“Wh— hey!! Ren!!! Lemme go!!!” Ren laughs slightly, letting him go as he asks. He leaves the hug with a smile on his face.

“Thank you, Morgana. I really needed that…” Morgana smiles, laying back down.

“I’m glad I could help. Now— we should get some sleep. Alright? We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Ren nods. “Right. Everyone’s finally together again. We should savor that before I have to go home.”

“You’re right. Now— go to sleep!!” Ren laughs slightly as he closes his eyes, a single tear dropping down his cheek onto the pillow as he does, glove still clasped in his hands.

/\~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/\

A few weeks later, Ren approaches the train station after a ride with Maruki in a taxi and saying farewell to his friends. It’s time to go home. Morgana pops out of his bag with a meow, and purrs slightly as he rubs against Ren.

“You better not be planning to get rid of me! I’m comin’ home with you, y’know!” Ren laughs slightly.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it— I was planning on taking you home, anyways. Though… I just hope my parents allow me to keep you. They were never big fans of cats…” Ren bites his fingernails slightly. It’s a bad habit he’s picked up ever since they faced Maruki— ever since he lost Akechi.

“Don’t worry! I’m sure it’ll be fine. And if they don’t, we’ll find a way, heheh!” Morgana slyly grins as Ren looks back at him.

“… Right. Okay, we have to get on— otherwise, we’ll miss the train.” He says, entering the train car and finding his seat. He sits down, resting his head in his hand as he leans against the window, Morgana sitting on the chair next to him.

He can’t help but start thinking. If Akechi was still alive… he wouldn’t even be able to come across him anymore, because he’s leaving. Not that… he is alive. He’s texted him so much since then, and yet, not a single response— or even being left on read.

He’s gone. And yet… he wants to hope. He really wants to hope. He hates thinking about the possibility that Akechi is dead. Or even that he’s alive. Because if he’s alive… that means he’s ignoring Ren. And that would hurt him.

An announcement comes over the train speaker. “The train will begin its route in 5 minutes. The train will begin its route in 5 minutes. Please remain seated. Thank you.”

… Well, if he had any last regrets, now would be the time to get off the train. But… he couldn’t. Not unless…

…

He spots someone out of the window. A familiar coat. A familiar, beige-colored coat.

No. No, it couldn’t be, right? It’s impossible. But he has to make sure. He immediately grabs his bag, leaping out of his seat and rushing towards the train doors. Morgana startles as he does, leaping up and running after him.

“Ren!! What are you doing?!” Ren doesn’t respond. He’s too focused on this. He bolts out the train doors, looking around frantically as he does. Until…

He spots someone walking away in the crowd. A familiar, brown-haired man, wearing a beige coat. He immediately sprints towards him. Morgana has to dodge and weave through the crowd to chase after Ren.

“Ren!! Where are you going?! Wait up!” He calls out. Ren doesn’t answer once again, too laser-focused.

As he reaches the man— he grabs their hand, breathing heavily as he does so. The man turns around, annoyed and confused— until the two lock eyes.

It’s him. Goro Akechi. The Detective Prince. The man who should be dead.

Ren begins to tear up. Akechi looks at him with surprise. “Is… is it really you? Akechi?” He asks— holding back a sob.

“… Ren. It’s been a while.” Ren immediately wraps his arms around Akechi, nearly sobbing his eyes out. Akechi jumps— and doesn’t return the hug. But that’s fine. He’s alive. He’s here. And he’s in his arms. That’s all that matters.

Once Morgana finally reaches the two, panting, he looks up at Ren— and gasps. “… Akechi? But— we thought you were…!”

Akechi sighs. “Why don’t we talk about this somewhere else, hm? There’s a cafe nearby. Why not there?”

Ren lets go, immediately nodding. He picks Morgana up and places him in the bag. Morgana protests. “But… we’re going to miss the train! Ren, what about—?!”

Ren immediately shakes his head. “This is more important. There’s other trains. It’s fine.” Morgana nods, and they head to a nearby cafe. As they sit down, Ren leans over the table, and Morgana hops up onto the table. Mona asks the question they’re both wondering.

“Akechi. What happened to you? We thought you were…”

Akechi sighs. “Dead, yes. I did, as well. And yet… Here I am. A dead man walking.” Ren wipes his eyes before speaking.

“But… if you’re alive, then why aren’t you in prison? Wouldn’t the police come after you? Would… wouldn’t you be arrested? You caused the mental shutdowns, after all. Even if it was under Shido…” … Yet, Ren never did testify against Akechi. He testified against Shido, yes, but he made sure not to bring up Akechi’s name directly. Even though… he probably should have. It made things harder in the long run, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“… It seems that Shido didn’t bring up my name during his confession. He admitted to causing the mental shutdowns himself. I was never brought into the conversation. And I assume… you did not bring up my name, either.” He grimaces.

Morgana speaks up. “But why? If he admitted everything, why wouldn’t he have brought your name up?”

“To my knowledge, he pinned the blame on another one of his associates, who, for some reason… took all the blame for himself.” Ren raises an eyebrow.

“But… Why would he do that? There’d be no reason to…”

Akechi looks away. “My best guess? It’s a parting gift from that bastard Maruki. He used the last of his influence to make sure I had a chance to atone… a manipulator to the end, it seems.”

Ren’s eyes tear up. “But… but isn’t this a good thing?! You’re here! You’re alive! You… you get a second chance, Akechi…!”

Akechi sighs. “… In your eyes, yes. It’s an amazing thing. But I was prepared to walk my path, and face death head-on. I was prepared to accept my fate. And yet, here I am! Aimlessly wandering on as I search for a purpose. I’m supposed to be dead, Ren. I should not be alive. And my being here violates the rules of this world. I despise it.”

Ren grabs Akechi’s hand, holding it tightly. “But… it can’t be all bad, Akechi…! You… we can keep our promise now. Isn’t that what you wanted? You promised, Akechi!” Akechi looks surprised. He can’t look Ren in the eyes.

“… Of course you would say that. Even after all this time, you still find ways to surprise me, Ren.” Amamiya can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“… Akechi. I’ve been waiting for you this whole time. I don’t know… what I’d do without you. I even kept your glove, Akechi. It’s precious to me. You’re precious to me…!” Akechi lets out a laugh in return.

“I see. Well— I can tell you held onto my glove. You’re wearing it, after all. You truly are special, Ren…”

“It’s only because you’re special to me, Akechi. There’s… there’s so many things I still need to tell you. So many things I need you to hear. And we still need to keep our promise. You promised me, after all… and you’re not one to break a promise, are you?”

Akechi removes his hand from Ren’s, crossing his arms. “I am not. Though… you were supposed to be leaving town today, am I correct? We won’t be seeing each other either way.”

Ren shakes his head. “Not anymore. I don’t care about that anymore. You’re here. I need to catch up with you. Spend time with you. You’re… you’re alive, and I’m going to savor the time I have with you. — Oh! How about we go to Leblanc?! I can treat you to some coffee, we can catch up, and…”

Akechi cuts Ren off before he can go any further. “I suppose we could, yes. It doesn’t sound horrible. Only if Sakura-san is okay with it, of course. And… Morgana there.”

Morgana protests, yelling out. “I am NOT a Cat!! ... I mean, I guess I am, but still!!!"

Ren laughs, taking Akechi’s gloved hand in his own. “Well, what are we waiting for?! There’s so much I need to tell you…!”

Akechi nods, a small smile forming on his face. Despite everything… They've reunited.

[f0point5]

Okay I get get it, but now I also need a Charles/ the prophecy thesis if you don’t mind 😂

I feel like the Lecfosi are going to come for me if they find this but it’s not that deep okay? 🫣

✨Charles Leclerc x The Prophecy - A Thesis✨

Hand on the throttle

Duh

Thought I caught lightning in a bottle

Oh, but it's gone again

Every time he gets a pole position, drags that car where it shouldn’t be, even gets a win, he thinks it’s the start of something. And just as quickly as he rises, he falls. The strategy or the car comes apart. His success is only ever a flash of lightning. Burns bright, burns out fast.

And it was written

I got cursed like Eve got bitten

The Il Predestinato name. Written by a journalist when he was 14 years old. Once it seemed like that was his anointing but maybe it was a curse.

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope

A driver with less hope, less belief, would have left Ferrari a long time ago

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

He will turn down any offer, no matter how lucrative, how good the car, because he wants to do it with Ferrari or not at all. All that matters to him is the connection he has to that team, more than what could be good for him.

Let it once be me

He grew up watching eras of dominance, and now he’s driving through someone else’s, wishing it would be his turn

Cards on the table

Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh

It’s the honesty that comes before acceptance. Cards on the table is the moment you’ve done all you can, the playing is over, it’s time to find out if everything you’ve done has paid off. And he’s turning over his cards to find out he has the losing hand. They told his story like a myth, like a fairytale, like a fable, but maybe he wasn’t the hero in it after all. Maybe time will prove he was the fool

It was sinking in

Slow is the quicksand

Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand

Oh, still I dream of him

He’s beginning to understand, as the years go by, that the problems might be bigger than him. That it might not be in his control. That being the chosen one only matters if the people who chose you matter. They say Ferrari Red runs through his veins but what if the blood is poison? And still, he can’t stop hoping that it will turn around

And I sound like an infant

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen

The well is running dry, he’s pouring blood, sweat, and tears from a cup that will soon be empty.

A greater woman has faith

But even statues crumble if they're made to wait

This is controversial, but to me this refers to the shift in his professional focus, the diversifying of his interest. His ice cream, his sponsors, signing with a new agency. He’s going to make the most of what he has, rather than waste years hoping for what he wants. Maybe someone else would have stayed believing that his time would come, but he’s waited long enough.

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

The fear that he’s made his bed. He can’t leave, even if he wanted to there’s nowhere to go. There’s no sign of what he hoped for, but there’s no hope anywhere else.

I’m just a paperweight

After giving all he had, after being called the Son of Maranello, was he just holding down the fort until the next legend arrived? When all is said and done will he just be a footnote in the list of champions that drove for Ferrari?

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Deep down, he still wants it. The win would still mean more than the fame and the money he thinks he’ll end up settling for. As long as the passion is still there, so will be the desperation, like the other side of the coin.

[guster-animations]

Kamen Rider Gavv Episode 15 Production Notes

taken from this website

toku translation masterpost here

Looking at the Next Epiosde

This next episode episode will be once again written by Nobuhiro Mouri and directed by Satoshi Morota. It seems like Kani didn’t know about CaKing Form’s strength… the cake festival in the month of Christmas continues. Did you see a new Buche de Noël form in the trailer?! Everyone, which Christmas cake will you go with this year? I wrote this for last episode as well, but Yosuke Kishi and Mouri worked together in “Uchu Sentai Kyuranger”. He’ll be even more active next episode, so look forward to Kani!

Now, this has been going a looong time in “Gavv”. When Hanto screamed that “I won’t ever forgive the Granutes!!” in episode 12 (the episode where they discovered each other’s identities), the moment of Shoma tugging at the hem of his clothes was impactful. It was specifically stated in the script as well.

“Shoma: ‘(My chest hurts…)’ (secretly pulls at the hem of his jacket in order to hide the mouth on his stomach.)”

Director Kazuya Kamihoriuchi filmed it in a striking way. It’s my favorite shot (Laughs). How long will he keep this secret…

With the child of a human and a Granute, Shoma, and the human Hanto, adding the new Granute character Lage9 will create some interesting things. Big things are slowly starting to happen, so please look forward to “Gavv” getting more exciting for the rest of the year and next year.

(Written by Naomi Takebe)

The Episode in Short

Thank you for watching episode 15. It’ll be Christmas in ten days, and the mood in the city is reaching its peak!

We were filming it at a hot time of year where it wasn’t even close to Christmas… (Laughs) but even though we said, “It’s so far ahead…”, the days flew by.

A Brown Reindeer, Suddenly

We thought Valen’s Buche de Noël form looks like a reindeer with antlers (referencing the images from next episode’s preview), so we implemented a reindeer Hanto.

…Please stop looking so empty.

Please also stop mincing the meat (Laughs). [???]

To see different facial expressions, go to the TV Asahi cast blog, Gavv Log!

Here are some excited cuties.

Like the characters in “Gift of the Magi” who gave each other their sentiments and feelings, Shoma, wanting to give something really important to someone, gifts Hanto a Bushel Gochizo.

But it isn’t really the right time to give that, and his Magi Challenge continues.

A Lively Blue Crab

When we discuss outside policies and PR, there were many conversations about how many episodes we’d broadcast. When you hear an episode number, you usually remember that episode as “the one where a certain form appeared” or “the one with this main character”, but for episode 15, it’s already commonly thought of as “Oh… the crab”.

Around this point, Kani is walking freely—no, side-to-side—a little more than usual. Is this how it should be? This episode’s script was written by Nobuhiro Mouri, who was the main writer for “Kyuranger” which Yosuke Kishi appeared in.

(This pose looks like he’s doing a different morph…!)

With a “lucky!” (although that’s the wrong person’s line) stroke of fate, Kani was delivered with excellent freshness in this season of even more liveliness.

Director Morota had him get in the water instead of falling.

Kishi, in the role of Kani, is truly good at communicating. He gave many pieces of advice to Hidekazu Chinen!

Well! Until now, when Shoma asked a Granute the phrase “What’ll it be? Give up the Dark Snacks? Or be defeated by me?” before killing them, all of them chose the first option, but what is Shoma supposed to do if they actually do announce that they’re giving them up right then and there?

…This was a much talked-about subject among the producer team in the early stages, and Kani carries this important role.

Shoma feels that if they really won’t harm humans, maybe he shouldn’t kill them… but Hanto ruthlessly disregards that, saying it’s no excuse to trust a Granute!

In the end, that announcement was just Kani putting on an act to lure Gavv into trusting him… (Between singing and acting, Kani has many talents outside of collecting Human Presses!)

Behind you, Shoma!!

Jeebh’s agents appearing was also Kani’s plan.

Kani uses a pincer attack with his former boss.

Unsurprised, Hanto goes to deal with Rojo. The transformation with Hanto jumping onto Rojo, which Yusuke Hino practiced many times beforehand, is a noteworthy moment. From the moment he transforms, it’s full-throttle Valen-like action!

However, he’s defeated by Rojo, who sends out a secret finisher attack where he repetitively walks side-to-side and then slams into him head-on with the charged power.

Shoma exposed Hanto to danger because of his naïveté… how will this go next time?!

A Black Messenger Descends

With the modification procedure Nyelv gave him, the Granute Lage9 gains the power to mimic humans. He has the usual metal fittings on his waist.

He descends into the human realm through “door space”, which appears for the first time in a while. Kohei Shoji, previously appearing in voice only, now appears in person as well. He’s grown even more since he began on Kiramager. It’s amazing!

But this guy seems a little… dull?!

Even though he acted humbly in front of Lango and Nyelv, he seems to completely abandon this front in the human realm. I think he’s tired because he was hoping to be assigned to HQ… (Laughs)

This is not a scene where “the teacher addresses the student skipping on the rooftop rather than giving up on them, and one word resounds…!”.

Lage9 has a unique way to gather Human Presses. He pierces his feelers into his targets, injecting a poison that temporarily raises their level of happiness, and easily gets the Presses all in one go.

He needs a closed space since he’s snatching a lot of humans at once, and Director Morota suggested that “in order to make it easy to understand that he makes them happy, we should have it be a place that’s not originally fun”, so we selected a courtroom filled with tension for his first hunting ground.

Collecting lots of Human Presses with minimal effort! He’s reforming the Stomach Company’s worker practices!!

Lage9 can silently accomplish his work since the Kamen Riders are busy fighting Kani. This was Lango’s calculation. As you’d expect from the command of the Stomach family’s eldest son.

However, he might not know what’s going on to the extent that his younger brother Nyelv does.

He has a puzzled expression when he eats pudding with Suga (Laughs)… Takizawa and Nyelv are very much like the second son. I say this often.

The sense of freedom with coming to the human realm and picking up Gochizos and chatting with Suga stands out, but having perfected every skill useful for collecting Dark Snack spice, he is without a doubt brilliant.

Dente, Nyelv, Suga… programs usually just have one scientist character, but “Gavv” has several. What will they create next time? You can’t take your eyes off of the scientists’ greatest achievement!

(Written by Minami Takishima)

[specialagentlokitty]

Giles x teen!Reader - a demigods fate

Part 9:

The months slowly went by, and as summer came the town was being swarmed by Monsters who simply circled the edge of it.

You paced up and down the library, eyes fixed on where the hellmouth was.

“Why won’t they come in?” Willow asked.

Giles set down all the papers and books you had brought to him from your apartment.

“Because it’s not time.” He said.

They looked to him in confusion.

“The hellmouth will open regardless on if we stop it or not, that’s what they are waiting for, the day of the total solar eclipse is when they’ll rush the town, come straight here.”

You nodded your head in agreement, walking over to your chair and you sat down, resting your chin on your hand.

“I need you all to protect the library while I close the hellmouth.”

“Have you figured out how to do that yet?” Buffy asked.

Giles gave you a look, and you shook your head, looking away from him.

“No, I haven’t.”

“We have a week and you still haven’t figured it out?!” Xander blurted.

“I’m working on it okay? I’m trying to figure that part out, these aren’t exactly clear instructions, it’s not a step by step guide.”

Xander raised his hands muttering an apology.

Closing your eyes, you thought for a moment.

“The hounds will keep you safe, and on the night before the eclipse I’ll raise the army that will help, they don’t understand English, they’ll simply just fight.”

“So… you’ll raise an army of…?” Willow mumbled.

“Skeletons, straight from the depths of the underworld.”

They all seemed a little unsure about the idea.

“It’ll be fine, they only attack the monsters, you’ll be safe.”

“The town?” Buffy asked.

“(Y/N) has assured that the monsters have no interest in that, just the hellmouth, they’ll come straight here.”

You nodded your head, and you looked at the doors as they opened, watching the centaur as he walked in and you smiled.

Getting up, you walked over and hugged him, guiding him to the group.

“Chiron trains demigods, he’ll be better at the whole speech thing than me. I’ve got one last thing to do, I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You left the library and Giles called out your name, walking around you.

“How long are you going to hide the fact that you’re going to die from them?” He whispered.

“They need to be focused, it will only distract them.”

“You still haven’t found a way around it?”

You sighed, shaking your head as you looked at the sword in your hands as it reverted to a coin and you put it into the pocket of your jeans.

Taking your jacket off, you held it out to him.

“Will you look after this?”

“Absolutely, it will be safe.”

Giles took it, setting it on the stairs next to him, and you sat on them, looking down at your hands.

He walked over, crouching in front of you, clasping his hands together.

“How are you?” He asked.

“I’m fine.”

Giles gave you a look and you took a small breath.

“I came here thinking I was going to hate it, but you know what? It hasn’t actually been that bad, I’ve enjoyed it, being able to be a teenager, nobody trying to out do me for glory, reminding me I’m just a demigod and its all I’ll ever be…”

You looked at him, smiling.

“You treated me like an actual person, not like some chosen one. I didn’t even think it was possible for me to get an A on a test, or not get kicked out of school.”

Giles chuckled, looking down.

“Yes, well, you.. you have yourself to be proud of for that, you did that all yourself.”

“No.”

He looked back at you.

“You put in the effort when you didn’t have to, you could’ve just ignored me and what I was doing here. You chose to help me, teach me, support me.”

You sniffled a little bit, wiping a few stray tears that had fallen from your face.

“For once since I found out about who I was I felt normal Giles… because of you… I.. I.. I was normal teenager for a while…”

You took a shaky breath.

“You’re the father I wish mine had been… I wish mine was like you.. that he cared…”

Giles placed his hand in yours.

“I am so proud of you, and I will always be proud of you, I’m just sorry we couldn’t find a way around the prophecy…”

You shrugged a little, standing up, and he did the same thing.

“You can’t have everything…”

“We still have time.”

“It’s okay, I’m ready for this, remember? It’s okay Giles, really… I’m not scared… I’m just… I’m going to miss everything here… I’ll miss school… the gang..”

Giles placed a hand on your shoulder and pulled you in for a hug, and you hugged him back, squeezing your eyes shut.

“We’re going to miss you as well…” he whispered.

You moved away, and he picked up your jacket.

“I’ll come back in a few hours.”

You jogged away back to your apartment, sitting down at your desk with some paper and a pen, tapping the pen against the desk as you tried to figure out what to write.

When you finally had, you shadow travelled back to the school and you walked into the library.

“Chiron, can we talk?”

He nodded his head, walking over to you and you glanced at the group that were still revising the game plan for the big day.

Looking back to Chiron, you held up the letter to him.

“I need you to look after this until everything is over.”

Chiron took the letter, tucking it into his blazer pocket.

“Of course, but I do have hope that you will be able to give it yourself.”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“That’s the whole point, we both know the truth Chiron. It’s a fail safe, or well, more of a last communications kind of thing really.”

Chiron looked back to the group.

“The watcher has a father’s love for you.”

“I wish he were my father, but I guess we can’t always have everything we want, right?”

Chiron sighed, turning back to you.

“I want you to do something for me.”

You nodded.

“Go to his office before the fight, there’s something in there I believe you should see.”

“I will.”

For the next week nobody saw much of you until the night of the eclipse, it was set to happen at sunrise, so as night fell you all met at the front of the school.

You looked at the small group, and you turned around holding your hands out.

The shadows drifted from your palms and into the ground, the rattling of bones taking the silence as they rose from the ground.

Thousands of them rose up, all turning to look at you.

“I command you to protect them, protect this school!”

The skeletons rattled, raising their weapons in the air with silent war cries.

The skeletons ran through and around the school, and you turned to your friends.

“You remember your places?”

“We do.” Willow nodded.

You smiled, walking up to them all, you hugged them one by one as they left, and you got to Giles, walking through the hallways with him.

“We still have a few hours, we might be able to find something.”

You took his hand to make him stop walking and you let him go.

“It’s too late for that Giles, you and I both know that.”

“It’s never too late.”

You smiled softly, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your hoodie.

“It’s been really fun Mr Giles.”

“It’s been a pleasure (Y/N).”

He smiled sadly at you.

“You’ll do what I asked right?”

“I will, just as I promised.”

You went to walk past him and he placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you from walking.

“(Y/N)?”

You shook your head.

“We’re running out of time.”

You pulled away and walked into the library while he stood at the doors with the sword you had given him in your hands.

Walking around, you looked at his office and remembered what Chiron had told you.

Making your way inside, you looked around and walked to his desk, picking up a photo of you, him and the others from a trip you had all took to the mall.

Smiling, you set it back, and turned around to see the board.

Walking over, you looked at all the grades papers you had given to him, your first passing grades, your first A grade, the tickets from your first zoo trip, a picture of you with the penguins.

The dagger you had made for him.

It was every achievement you had made since being there, every good, normal thing you had done, the things you thought he had just tossed away, and he kept them.

They were important to him.

You were important to somebody.

Leaving the office, you looked to Oris who was watching you.

“Protect them, all of you.”

He growled and backed away into the shadows, and you stood over the now cracking helllouth.

As the early morning light filtered through the windows, you watched as the floor began to give way.

Raising the dagger you took from the office you poured shadows into the portal, creating spider like webs, blocking anything from entering it.

You could hear the sounds of the fighting beginning, and you took a deep breath, watching as monsters began to pour into the room.

Skeletons fought alongside of you, and you kept the monsters at bay, still trying to figure out how to close the hellmouth.

The coin in your pocket was red hot, searing pain shooting through your skin.

The monsters could barely land any seriously blows on you, some small scratches as they tried to rush the hellmouth.

You stood near it, bringing down anything that dared to get close.

You could see flashes of your friends fighting, struggling, and it made you fight even more.

You were struck in the head, and you stumbled back, throwing the dagger into the monster.

Lowered your head, you raised your hand to touch the bleeding wound, and you watched as your blood fell on the ground.

The hellmouth held a small glow, sealing a tiny bit.

“The child of the underworld is the key, their life seals the gate…” you whispered.

Reaching into your pocket pulling out the coin and you flipped it, catching the sword and all the monsters and skeletons backed away.

You could still the glimpses of your friends, your new family struggling for their lives, and it all made sense to you now.

The reason you were told not to use it and you would know when to use it.

The only weapon to break the curses on you.

Turning it inwards, you pressed the point to your stomach and took a shaky breath, closing your eyes as you turned your head towards the sky.

You drove the sword through you, and ripped it out, blood falling into the hellmouth, a burst of energy coming from it, wiping out all the monsters.

The hellmouth closed, and you stumbled dropped to your knees, sword falling from your grasp.

Slowly you fell on your back, hand over your stomach.

The monsters pinning everybody turned to dust, and the skeletons wondered back towards the ground to return home.

Giles placed a hand on his head as he sat up, looking around.

“We did it…”

At first it was whispered in victory, then the words sunk into his head.

Scrambling up, he threw the doors open, looking around at the destroyed place.

“(Y/N)!?”

Giles rushed up the stairs, and he slowly walked over, sitting down next to you, placing a hand over yours on your stomach to try and stop the bleeding.

You let out a shaky breath and turned your gaze towards him.

You coughed, giving a small smile.

“Did.. did we… win…?”

Giles smiled softly.

“We won…” he whispered.

You smiled, turning your head away so you could cough up some more blood.

Giles picked your head up, making it easier for you to cough.

When you were finished you breathed deeply, staring up at him as tears fell from your eyes.

“I… I don’t…”

“Shush now, you’ll be alright…”

You gripped his arm.

“I.. I’m scared…”

Giles cradled your head in his hand, taking his hand from your side, removing his glasses before grabbing the hand that was gripping his arm and he held it tightly.

“There’s… there’s no need to be scared…”

He smiled at you which was a warm smile, but the tears falling down his face told a different story, he was upset.

“You’ll be alright… I have no doubt in that…”

“You… you won’t go…?”

He shook his head.

“I’m not going anywhere…”

You nodded your head weakly.

“I am so proud of you (Y/N). So.. so very proud… you’ve come so far… you’re everything your father should have… everything I.. I.. could’ve hoped you would grow to be… I.. I only wish I could have done more for you…” he whispered.

You smiled, eyes drifting closed a little bit, before you opened them again.

“It’s alright… you.. you rest… I.. I.. I’ll be right here…”

You closed your eyes again, opening them once more.

“Can.. can we.. see the penguins again…?”

Giles laughed weakly, nodding his head.

All the hellhounds crowded around you, laying next to you with their heads on your legs.

“Of course we can…”

You smiled and finally closed your eyes once more, your grip slacking on his hand until finally it went limp, your hand falling from your side.

The sword nearby held a small glow before it faded, and Giles closed his eyes clenching his jaw as he held your tightly.

“I’m so sorry we couldn’t find another way…”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his tears falling down his face as the doors were slammed open and the trio stopped in their tracks.

“Giles?! (Y/N)?!”

Giles carefully picked up your body, making his way down the stairs, the hounds whining as he laid you down on the broken table, folding his blazer to put under your head.

“No…” Xander whispered.

Willow let out a chocked sob, rushing over to you and the other two followed.

Xander wrapped an arm around Willow, and Buffy took your hand in hers.

Giles got up, walking up the stairs he looked at the blade there, he tried to pick it up, but he couldn’t, so he picked left it, making his way back down to your side.

He held your other hand, wiping his tears with his free hand, a heavy silence falling over the library

[aeoki]

New Start GO! - Work: Chapter 1

Location: Yumenosaki Library Characters: Hajime & Jin

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< The next day. >

Hajime: ♪~♪~

(The library is peaceful as always~ I’ve finished with my student librarian work, so I suppose I’ll also read a book.)

(“New Start Go!”... I’d like to learn about how office employees work as well.)

(I’ll read a book on the business world that we also use as reference for our career plans.)

(It’s a menswear company so maybe I should read a book on clothing instead? Or maybe a book about the textiles industry or international trading…?)

(In the meantime, I should start with whichever book I come across first. Let’s start from this shelf…)

……………

Jin: Ohh, what a coincidence. You’re doing some research for your career plans, Shino?

Hajime: Hm? It’s rare to see you here in the library, Sagami-sensei.

Jin: Haha. I may not look like it but I’m an avid reader. Would you be surprised to hear that?

Hajime: Huh? Really?

Jin: Nah, I’m just kidding. You can tell at a glance that I’m not that hard-working, right?

Actually, Kunugi-sensei asked me to help the students out with their career plans.

“You’re a teacher too so you should also help the students plan their future careers.” is what he said. So I’m helping the students who are about to graduate.

But I know nothing about other careers other than being an idol… So I figured I might as well do some research.

Hajime: Oh, I see. Which means you’re searching for a book about sport physicians or medical care?

Jin: Nope. I’m looking for books on general companies.

The student has some backbone to him and quite the rebellious spirit~ Apparently, if you nitpick him too much, he’ll stop listening to you too.

Seems it’ll be easier to get someone laid-back like me to talk to him instead of someone serious and rigid like Kunugi-sensei.

Hajime: Ahaha. Maybe Kunugi-sensei simply wanted you to help with the student’s career plans. You achieved great things during your time as an idol and many students trust you.

Jin: I wonder about that. I’m pretty dense in that regard so I have no idea.

Well, I’ve left that kinda work to the other teachers, so I guess it’s my turn now.

I was blessed by the fortune of that age and as a result, I chose to become an idol.

I just took the easy route, so I don’t think anyone would be angry if they saw someone like that helping the students plan out their future careers~

My own idol image and what the industry wanted just happened to fit together.

Hajime: Your own idol image…?

Jin: Nah, there isn’t any deeper meaning to that.

In this era, people want to see an idol’s individual characteristics, right?

The student I’m helping out has the talent, but not the right characteristics for this era. I think it’s unfortunate too.

He wasn’t strong enough to believe that his time would come, so he’s trying to consider other options… It’s a pretty tough task.

Maybe it’s my fate as a former “super idol”.

It feels like I’ve got no choice but to learn about the workings of other industries and companies that I’ve never encountered before – I’ve gotta start from the basics.

…Oh, you’re a good listener, Shino, so I couldn’t help but ramble. Sorry for taking up your time.

Could I get a book out on different jobs?

Hajime: Alright. Then an encyclopaedia on different occupations would be best.

Would you like to take this one out? If so, then I’ll fill out the paperwork.

Jin: Yup. Thanks.

Hajime: …Oh, right. Since you’re here, could I ask for some advice?

Jin: Advice? I don’t mind but are you sure you wanna ask me?

Hajime: Yes. “Ra*bits” received a work offer and I’d like to talk to you about it since you’re a senior to us idols.

We’ll be appearing in a spring TV programme called “New Start Go!” and we’ll be getting work experience at a company.

Jin: Work experience?

Hajime: Yes. We’ll be promoting menswear and we’ll also be appearing in suits.

We’ll be treated like new employees, so we’ll be working with the others in the company for a week…

Jin: I see. So you’re worried ‘cause it seems like you’ll have a lot of responsibility, huh.

Hajime: Yes. I’m grateful for the work offer itself, but I don’t think companies are places one should step foot in irresponsibly.

I’m worried if people like us, who work in the entertainment industry, can work there properly without inconveniencing them.

For people who are job-hunting, it could be a decision that affects their entire life – just like the student you’re helping.

They’ll get angry if I tell them that I’m just here to have a casual work experience, right?

Jin: Ahaha. I think you’ve got an extreme image of job-hunting, Shino.

In this age, it’s rare for people to work at one company their entire lives. Some people choose to have a career change after being idols too, right?

Besides, you’ve done a lot of “school jobs”, Shino. I think those count as work experience.

Did you say the work offer is called “New Start Go!”? You’re not gonna take part with the mindset of causing them trouble, so think of it as a good opportunity to get some work experience and be positive about it.

I don’t think the company would be expecting an idol with no experience to work perfectly, either.

Just think of it as expanding upon your skills.

Otherwise, you might turn into an old man like me and run into some trouble.

Hajime: Hehe. You’re right, Sagami-sensei.

Being afraid to make mistakes and saying no before trying would be getting my priorities backwards, huh. I’ll do my best to convince the others, then.

Jin: Yeah, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.

You guys have grown as idols and are already working in the entertainment industry.

But there are also students who graduate from high school or are job-hunting – like the student I’m helping.

It’s a valuable opportunity. Enjoy it to the fullest, Shino.

Hajime: I will. Thank you, Sagami-sensei.

Jin: Alrighty, I’m gonna head back to the infirmary then. Help me out the next time I’m here too, okay~? ♪

Hajime: Hehe. Of course, feel free to let me know if you need need my assistance finding books to help students with their career plans.

(...Still, everyone is thinking hard about their future careers, huh.)

(Up until now, I was having a hard time just catching up to everyone, so I didn’t have the time to think too much about it.)

(But just like how Nii-chan became a university student, I would also have to think about my own future under normal circumstances.)

(What sort of future can I imagine for myself? What sort of future do I want…?)

(I still don’t even know what sort of idol I want to be.)

(Well, dwelling on this isn’t going to do me any good. I hope “New Start Go!” will be a good chance to help me think about those things.)

(I’ll do my best to have fun and show the others in “Ra*bits” that I’m the work experience. Thank you for giving me your advice, Sagami-sensei.)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[slasherspace]

S/O with a Fake Friend

This story is gender neutral!

Fake Friends are literally the worst. I hope none of you ever had one but if you did, well then this headcanon might be something for you. I‘m not 100% happy with the final result but i couldn’t wait any longer to release a new story. I hope you enjoy this headcanon at least a little bit! :)

(Pls leave me a request in case you have one)

Slashers mentioned: Thomas Hewitt, Michael Myers and Bubba Sawyer

Thomas Hewitt

You decide to invite some friends (after convincing Hoyt to not kill them)

You all have a nice time

At some point, you decide to get something from another room

While you are away, a friend of yours starts to talk shit about you „I’m happy they moved away“ „this ugly dirty house suits them “ „they are boring“

Tommy spends a lot of time in the basement but since there isn’t a lot of meat or people to work on and because he doesn’t trust your friends he decides to kinda watch out for you. He won’t introduce himself tho. He’s insecure and isn’t interested in meeting new people

When he hears those words out of your friends mouth he gets really mad

How dare someone talk about you like that. You invited them, had to argue with Hoyt and prepared everything by yourself?! „How ungrateful“ he thought

Because he is nonverbal he can’t just tell you, so instead, blinded by his anger, he decides to go up to your friends, take your fake friend by the collar of their shirt and stare at them angrily

You come back and are shocked. However, you are aware that Tommy wouldn’t do that if nothing happened before

Your friend starts screaming at you „get this monster away from me, y/n!“

You kinda assumed that this person doesn’t really like you as much but you didn’t think that it was that bad that even Tommy would get mad. now this friend even insulted your lovely boyfriend

You decide to throw them out so the situation wouldn’t escalate

2 possibilities: your fake friend drives away and isn’t allowed to ever step on your property again or they are thrown into the basement and spend some time with Tommy because they continue to insult and harass you (it’s up to you. How much do you hate them?)

If you chose possibility number 2, Tommy would skin them alive but wouldn’t keep the face since he doesn’t want such an ugly face on himself

Michael Myers

He isn’t a fan of your friends. He is possessive + he’s Michael Myers.. he can’t just be in the kitchen or in the living room when your friends are around so he has to stay upstairs (or in your room if you only have a small apartment)

Michael being Michael he obviously stalks your friends as a kind of background check

He has to make sure that you are safe

When your friends arrive he positions himself somewhere where he can see and hear everything

When you go away to grab something one of your friends starts to talk shit about you „they look so bad“, „They are annoying“

(New target unlocked I guess)

Michael knows who he is going to kill next. The fate of your friend is now certain

You come back and continue to have fun

After saying goodbye to your friends, Michael follows that one friend to their home. He kills them in a very painful and slow way

Next morning you receive the message that your friend was murdered and found with a clown mask on their bloody face 🤡

You immediately knew who did it

You go up to Michael and just say „they talked shit about me, huh?“ Michael answers with a slow nod and you can’t help but smile

Bubba Sawyer

He doesn’t mind when your friends come over. He’s actually quite excited as well. He enjoys company

He might be worried about his brothers but you convince them to go away for at least an hour, so they wouldn’t freak your friends out (even though they would freak out more over Bubba. I mean, he is a tall and big man with a leather face… What do you expect?)

It really depends on how you want this day to go. If you want Bubba around your friends, he’ll be there and put his pretty woman mask on. If you don’t want him around them, then he would be disappointed but keep his distance.

When you go away to grab something, bad things start to happen „did you notice how bad they look?“ „I don’t know why but they are so annoying“

Bubba freaks out. He goes up to you and starts to make noises and moves frantically. You don’t understand what exactly he wants to tell you but you try to calm him down

He won’t calm down🧍🏻‍♀️ probably grabs his chainsaw, turns it on and runs up to your fake friend. Instant panic. You start to panic as well

„Wtf is that, y/n?!“

Your fake friend will be chased.

If you don’t want that person to die, Bubba will make sure that they kneel down, apologize and beg for your forgiveness while threatening them with his chainsaw or sledgehammer

If you hate them so much that you want them to die, they are going to die. Just like Thomas he wouldn’t keep the face because he wouldn’t want the face of a y/n anti (he’s your biggest fan)

Thank you for reading this headcanon <3

[rons-wheezely]

224 || G.W.

George Weasley x Reader, Soulmate AU

Genre: Fluff, humor

Summary: Each soulmate pair receives a special number to them, and them only, on the day they’re born into this world. The placement on the body can vary, so people usually keep to themselves unless they fancy someone or it’s displayed somewhere public. How do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

A/N: i have been so inactive, I’m so sorry rip I am going to try to post a fic here and there, but I’m still a student doing student things... This blog recently turned 2 years old, and has reached about 300 followers, so thank you so much for those of you who have found me in the piles of other wonderful works :) I love you all from the bottom of my heart.

--x--

“Oh, do forgive me, Georgie,” you playfully shove him out of the way. He stumbles away from the shelf containing the last package of Fizzing Whizbees in time for you to snatch it into your hands. You hear him chuckle as he regains his balance behind you. It’s suffocatingly crowded with fellow students in Honeydukes, so he leans in close so you can hear him. 

His warm breath comes close to your ear, saying with a soft laugh,” At least share, alright?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully as the smile plastered on your face turned into a smirk. You make your way to the cashier with George close behind. The candy in the box shake in your hands, and the decorative ring you’re wearing on your middle finger glimmers in the shop’s light. You call over your shoulder,” If you win the next match against Slytherin, I might.” 

This statement alone had George fist pump the air in satisfaction. Even if he lost, you would most likely share it anyways –– to cheer him up, of course. You two have been best friends since your first year when you cleverly evaded one of the twins’ pranks. It was a lucky guess, but the outcome left Fred and George tangled in a mess of burping up slugs for three hours. It was an easy friendship after that, other than the secret feelings you harbored for George, that is. 

Soon enough, the match came and the sight was an absolutely thrilling one. You watch as each player flies by, and each time the wind sweeps your hair in every direction. Fred and George are on a spectacular streak, and they never once miss the bludger. Thankfully you had a pair of binoculars and Lee Jordan’s commentary; the team was so small in the air that it was hard to tell what was happening.

Harry Potter was no doubt going to catch the snitch, and here he comes now swooping in underneath his teammates. He’s almost flat against his broomstick, urging it to go faster before Malfoy could get to the fluttering golden speck. All eyes are on Potter, and the boy is mere inches away. Just as his nimble fingers wrap around the snitch, another Gryffindor teammate drops from the air.

You can hear the subtle gasps from a few in the crowd who noticed. The Gryffindor team were too enraptured with Harry’s catch to notice that one of them was dropping ten, twenty, thirty meters to the ground. “George!” You cried.

As if sending a telepathic message to the other twin, though it is most likely he heard you yell as clear as day, Fred swoops down to save his brother from impact. You notice now that you're standing on your feet and leaning on the railing that separates you from your best friends on the field. You watch on in horror as Fred barely makes it in time. The breath you didn’t know you were holding finally escapes you, and your surroundings come back all at once. 

You hear the deafening silence and the sound of the wind blowing by. No one moves as they watch Fred land on the ground with George. It was Lee who ended the tension,” And with that, Gryffindor earns 130 points and has won the match…” 

All at once, everyone in the stands scrambles to get out. Elated with Harry’s catch and the twins’ safety, the student body goes their separate ways. You follow them as well and weave your way through the crowd to get to Fred and George. Panic fills your lungs, and every fiber in your body screams to make sure they’re okay.

“Fred!” You call out,” Are you two alright?”

“Yeah, no harm done to me,” he sighs,” –– Other than this git. A bludger whacked him straight on the side and he passed out on his ride down.” 

“It looks like it hurts… but it’s nothing Madame Pomfrey can’t handle, right?” You wince. You try to convince yourself that George is just sleeping a very deep, restful sleep.

“I reckon he’ll be fine, y/n.” Fred winks your way with a sly grin. “Visit him lots, yeah?”

Madame Pomfrey refused to let anyone in until she was done running some tests. When she finally let you visit, you rushed to sit next to George’s bedside. He stirred at your frantic movements and opened an eye to see you. “It’s not that bad is it?” He chuckles.

“She said that you’ve broken a few ribs, but you’ll be alright.” You smile. 

George sits up slowly, pretending to be in agonizing pain. You worry for a bit and reach out to him on instinct, but he laughs and tells you he’s okay. His torso is wrapped entirely with gauze over his clothes, and there are a few bandages wrapped around his forearms as well. Pomfrey had drawn a blanket over George earlier, so the white sheet still covered the lower half of his body. A moment goes by, and you hear a soft wheeze leaving George’s lips. “You don’t suppose my soulmate is into beaten up ginger-heads, do you?”

“Well,” you mull over your words. Pretending to take his question seriously, you answer,” they would have if you were Fred..” You laugh a little as you catch the glint in his eyes –– the mischievous one you had grown to love. 

“Oh, if only I looked exactly like that bloke.” He jokes. His head falls a little forward as he laughs. His gaze is drawn to his lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he looked like those shy love interests in romantic muggle films. 

You notice that his fiery hair is covering his eyes, and your body compels you to get another glimpse of that wonderful boy’s face. Ever so gently, you reach your hand out and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. When your fingers curve around the back of his ear, you notice a few dark marks of what looks like a tattoo. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You go to move more of his hair out of the way, but he turns his eyes to you. 

“Are you getting handsy with me y/n? Tryin’ to make a move, are you?” He smiles, but there is a small panic in his eyes as they frantically search yours. “You could’ve just asked me out, you know.”

“Is that your soulmate mark?” You ask.

“Maybe.”

“Well,” you huff playfully,” I might be able to tell you who your soulmate is. I might cry if your soulmate is Madame Pomfrey, though.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, a playful tone in his voice.

"Georgie, please don’t tell me you have a thing for milfs.”

It takes everything in him to hold back his laughter. George pulls his hair back to reveal the numbers 224 etched behind his left ear. Your breath catches in your throat, but you try to hide your very obvious shock. 224 was a number you knew too well, and seeing that number reflected on your best friend’s skin meant that your deepest feelings were true. It’s okay to be in love with George because now... now there is chance he feels the same way.

Your mark is tattooed on the band of your middle finger, which is usually covered up by jewelry. You fidget with your rings nervously, trying to ground yourself all the while. George doesn’t pay too much attention to it when he says,“Fred has his numbers on his right ear. I might be the right-hand man, but he’s lucky enough to be the right-ear man.”

You laugh at his really bad pun,” Really? Out of all of the ear jokes, you chose that one?” 

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” He nudges you with his shoulder, and you can’t help but giggle some more.

“Would you like to hear a fun fact?” You ask. You gulp down all of the fear that has started to swallow you whole. You are George’s soulmate. The idea buzzes in your head along with a million other thoughts. George nods for you to continue, and you fight the panicked urge to scream. “...In the muggle world, they have such advanced technology.”

“Yeah, dad would know––” George interjects for a second.

“The numbers 224 actually hold a meaning to them. It’s something like a code–– it’s related to their fancy devices I think? Anyways,” you take a deep breath. You remember vividly the details your friend went to great lengths explaining to you. 

“Your number is all kinds of special, y/n!” Mae beams at you. Her eyes twinkle in an amusing manner as she tries to prove herself. A soft thud could be heard when her hands meet with the common room table, and she quickly jumps to her feet. “Imagine, having such a fantastic number as that!” She exclaims with awe.

“I don’t understand?” You bemusedly remark. Why would numbers hold more meanings beyond your standard soulmate reason?

“My brother loves binary code, a certain muggle science,” she explains,” and he told me a few meanings. One of them being yours! Now, if only fate would tell us who your soulmate was...”

If Mae were in this room, she would be bursting at the seams from pure glee. You look into George’s eyes and say,” ...the numbers actually mean something along the lines of ‘Today, Tomorrow, Forever.’ It has to do with the bond you and your soulmate have together.“

He blinks once or twice before breaking out into a grin,” Okay, can you say it again but,” he emphasizes,” simpler, maybe?

“––it means that your soulmate will love an accident-prone idiot like you forever and always,” You joke halfheartedly.

The familiar gleaming smile he wore after a successful prank creeps up onto his face: one of self satisfaction and deserving of many awards based on looks alone. His smile is much gentler and you almost miss it, but a blush tints the very tips of his cheeks. “Oh? wait ‘till dad finds out that numbers have meanings to muggles. How’d you know all of this anyway?”

“Oh, it’s just something my friend talked to me about.” You dismiss his questioning gaze and clear your throat. Every second that passes makes you more and more anxious being around George, simply just by knowing you two are soulmates. It’s a dream come true, sure. But how do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

“Are you alright, y/n?” George asks. “You seem real fidgety. Do you need to go somewhere?”

“Oh–– no, it just that,” you gulp. “Well.. I think left the Fizzing Whizbees back in my dorm room.” You lie. You know it’s in your bag with your other belongings, safely tucked away for later consumption. “Post-game snacks are essential, and I did make a promise.”

“Are you sure you left it there? I thought I saw it in your bag...” He leans over to find your bag, and sure enough, he pulls out the box of candy.

“Oh.” You look at him. There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat.

“You’ve really got to get yourself together mate–– looks like Nearly Headless Nick showed you his neck hole again or something.” George jokes to lighten the mood, but he’s right. The longer you sit there and stare at him, the more you either want to slam your lips against his or vomit profusely. You feel pale and sickly; just enough to feel the twists and turns of your stomach. Is this what having butterflies feel like? He opens the bag of candy and offers you some.

You share the box of whizbees with him, taking one out and popping them into your mouth. It fizzes and jolts a little as the sweet taste melts on your tongue. “I think maybe Fred slipped something to me earlier,” you avert your gaze,” I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, sounds like Fred.” George grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hands, and it does seem to relax some of your nerves. He looks at you softly and gently, and all at once, your anxiety starts to melt away in his presence. You almost forget why you’re so worried in the first place. “You know I’m not going anywhere. If you have to take a massive shit, I’ll wait for you.” He says as he pats your hand reassuringly.

You erupt into laughter and shove him away. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”

“Nothing says true love like bowl movements, darling.”

As the laughter dies down, the somber feeling in your gut returns. It’s now or never, right? “George, I think I need to tell you something. I—“

Fred bursts into the door with Lee following shortly behind. “There’s my favorite twin!” He beams. He gets a disapproving look from Madame Pomfrey peering around the corner from her office. Fred doesn’t pay much attention, choosing to walk past her with barely a glance over his shoulder. George rolls his eyes as Fred happily trots over, spilling some liquid from two mugs in his hands. “—had to have Lee help sneak these in for the party, which you lot are missing out on.” He hands you a mug of butter beer and George, the other.

You decide to drop the subject even after George was free from the hospital bed. It’s a few weeks since then, and school has made you push those thoughts of pesky soulmates and true love aside. Of course, George kept looking at you funny, waiting for you to bring it up again. To his dismay, you didn’t.

“Alright everyone, class is dismissed.” Professor Sprout announces as she busies herself in setting up plants for the next day. It’s the last class of the day, and you couldn’t be happier. Repotting plants was hard work, and you were sweaty enough as it is. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of your face, and as much as you hated it, it did make for good eye candy across the room — namely George, although there’s a lot of dirt smudged onto his face too.

He’s cleaning up rather quickly so you call out to him,” Can you grab my rings, Georgie? They’re over there by my bag.” You had to remove jewelry in order to “safely handle” the creatures and wear proper gloves. Those of which you hastily pull off to wash your hands. The suds come and go as you lather and rinse away in the sink.

“Today, tomorrow, forever eh?” George’s deep voice rumbles in your ear. You jump a little at the sudden scare. “I think I like the sound of that, don’t you?”

You turn your head a little to the side and come very close to George’s face. You can feel his breath fanning on your skin, and his nose is just barely touching yours. You fear that if you blink, the sight in front of you will vanish. Every freckle that glitters his skin is so close you could count them like the stars and draw constellations between them if you wanted to. It’s absolutely breathtaking. Your body feels like it’s on a cloud— so feather light and airy— as he smiles at you. Your throat is dry; your tongue struggles to keep up with your thoughts. “...what?” You choke out. You cover your hands on impulse, but you know it’s too late.

“It means you’re stuck with me forever, y/n.” He grins. “Soulmate magic is no joke, you know.” He hands you your rings and walks beside you out of the greenhouse. You slip the rings on to your middle finger where it’s always resided, deciding to fidget with it a little.

Nothing should be different. You’re walking with George in the hallways like you always do, your hair is no different than yesterday, and class was the same as an other day. And yet your heart is beating faster and the sun seems to shine brighter. The grass is greener and the lake bluer than it was this morning. Words remain unspoken, but the truth is there. His fingers are interlocked with yours. 224.