#he’s like if someone found a little wild boy and brought him home and taught him how to speak and do art and play soccer

[umemiyan]

i need to know more about shidou’s past because i swear…….. that boy had to have been raised by a pack of wild dogs or somethin

[wordsbymae]

Since you liked my oc so much here’s a little more about him(it’s funny because this where I’ll proceed to word barf on you 😃). He was orphan from a young age, never found out his true parents and for what can he remember he was by himself that was until he met…Mr. B. Mr. B was a fallen spoiled rich boy who was kicked out of his family to fend for himself, after he brought “shame” to his family. Once part of the elites and now every day bums, he made himself acquainted with the hustle/street life to survive, everything he learned was self taught and since he went through such a life changing experience, his personality did a 360 as well. After proving himself as the most worthiest man in the “business” from there he was able to create his own business of wild and chaotic misfits just like him. they ban together to overrun his parents home and rob them of their money after one or two decades of not seeing them (they were not expecting nor pleasant to see him 😅). Couple years down it was brought to his attention that his supplies and resources were been stolen, and he came to confront the man who outsmarted his men and steal his food, he came across a young Joseph (that’s his name :D). At first he would scratch and bit him like a wild animal,but when eventually joe figured he wasn’t a threat and they became a attached at the hip ever since (well more like at the shoulders, cuz that’s where little joe spent majority of his younger years on Mr. B shoulders). He taught joe everything he knows from refining his shooting, teaching him how to fight, table manners and his philosophies. He instilled in him that he would only allow joe to act all cutesy and spoiled because unlike when he was younger joe actually has worth and can prove himself. He taught him that he shouldn’t look down on ppl, and everyone has their own way to survive “we are no better then the ladies on the street corner. They can’t do, what we do. And we can’t do, what they do” “it’s not if you have the skill for it, but the drive to go through with it”. Imagine a thick new jersey’s accent. That is his son. They use to go camping togther, sleep in the same bed (eventually Mr. B couldn’t get enough sleep because of the kicking so he gave a small bed next his to sleep at night), they like to body wrestle, teach him how to gamble, let him have a quick puffs of his cigar/ little sips of his whiskey and scotch, come with him on his heist, etc. As well trained he is in self dense and handling guns he would try to protect him even if he’s 25, 28, 36…..(he’ll always be a father first). But since he didn’t get a chance to interact with ppl his own age, he’s a bit eccentric. Sometimes he talks like a old man (going to bed at 8), etc. he eventually grew up and worked for Mr.B (Big Man, not a very creative name but it fit wells for his size (he’s built like kingpin from the spider man movie)). He adventures out across the country to kill someone who hasn’t paid their due yet or kill someone he double crossed Mr.B. He’s his right hand man and his son, so he can get away with things. For example, the reason why he came to y/n’s town. He was there to collect another body, the sleazy loan shark. He asked Mr. B for money for a business opportunity but eventually it became clear he wasn’t coming back after a week of his deadline. When Joesph confronts him before shooting him, at one last resort to be a ducked head he gives Joseph a picture and address of y/n and said, if he wants to collect money go to this woman. “Huh” he lets out a low whistle “she’s not particular bad looking…” he take a long time to look at the picture and then shoots the sleazy loan shark. Not only he’s going to collect the money but maybe this pretty lil thing as well. Before her property situation became worse, he would have a stake out and stalk her everywhere she would go(even tho it wasn’t necessary). She’s a church woman and a farm gal. She’s hardworking, independent and kind (he saw her helped up a kid after falling down and reassuring them (so motherly :D)) but to know for sure if she’s the one…. :)

You need a movie deal, I'm not kidding I am blown away!!!!!!! You have me hooked, I am in love with this man!!!! Holy cow!!! I love found family tropes and it makes so much sense in this case!!!!

My mouth was open the entire time reading this and I loved it soooooooo much!!!!! The idea that the loan shark tried to throw the reader under the bus and Joseph ( I love the name) was like ahhh yes ok, and then shoots anyway!!! I love love love the idea of him trying to sus out if the reader is wife material and just falling more and more in love with everything she does! Is Mr B. proud of joseph finally getting a wife, and what about grandkids!!!! AHhhhhh! I love this world you have created!!!! Please never stop creating more of this !!!!! I am not joking when I said I am in love with this man, holy hell I have to take a cold shower.

Anyway, thank you for sending it in!!

Lots of love mae xx

[bakugohoex]

hi i love your works <3! i was wondering if you could write a little lighthearted scenario where reader makes an egg omelette for her crush jean (pref post timeskip? is okay if that can't work though), but somehow sasha and connie finds the omelette and eats it when reader steps outside the kitchen, leaving her confused on what to do? sorry, that's a big blog of a sentence! i hope it made sense

“you brats ate it didn’t you”

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: aged up, fluff, language

word count: 1600+

a/n: hi thank you so much for the support, hope you liked it and it’s fine it all made sense to me i changed the ending a bit cause i think it fit better but i hope you still like it

summary: in which you make an omelette that jean’s mother had taught you how to make for the boy to confess your love for him, but sasha and connie had other ideas in mind

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

Four long years, four long, strenuous years of planning the next move, getting rid of all the titans and having seen the sea multiple times already. Being back in Trost, the sounds of the streets bustling with happiness was new and would never have been expected four years ago. The way people admired the survey corps now, admired the regain of Wall Maria and the faith they had of a better world outside the sea. 

“Y/n, dear, have you got everything you need?” Jean’s mother had been helping you find the ingredients you needed for the famous omelette she made for him when he was a kid. You had met his mother previously; she was a lovely woman and in a matter of minutes had known your crush for the boy. Having finally gotten the nerve to confess, his mother being the sweetest woman alive offered her helping hand. 

Having shown you how to make it and now you’d have to go back to the Survey Corps kitchens to make it yourself. It was a lot having not ever made anything in your life it was worrying to say the least. “Dear, stop looking so frightened my Jean boy will love it.” You smile at the woman taking a deep breath. 

“Thank you Mrs. Kirschtein.” You give the woman a gracious look, she really was the greatest mum, even after how Jean treated her after she visited in the training days. You knew he loved her, he loved lots of things, this omelette hopefully being one of them.

You walked through the gates, going towards the stone building that was housing you for a couple days. Seeing Sasha and Connie fight over some food, you didn't bother to question it, “Y/n, you’re back.” Jean smiled running up to you, his long hair curling at the bottom just reaching above his shoulders. 

“Yeah, I got everything I needed; your mother was a great help.” You didn't explain what you had gotten, wanting it to be a surprise for the boy. 

“You were with my mother.” Your eyes flashed red at how stupidly you had said it.

Trying to recover your words, “i met her on my way out, she offered the help.” He smiled before trying to peek inside the bag you were holding. 

“No peeking.” You slapped his hand away, chuckling at how he pretended to be hurt.

“Oww, what is it? A surprise?” He grinned out.

“Yes, it is.” You stood tall walking to the kitchens that were rarely used. You didn't really even know why they had one, but you didn't question it.

Jean followed trying to find out what it was, “what is it Y/n?” He pouted before trying to put his hand again in the bag.

“Jean.” You scowled grabbing the bag before he could grab it.

“Whoever it’s for must be a lucky man.” He scratched the back of his head before putting his arms on the table leaning against it. 

“Who says it’s for a man?” You knitted your eyebrows and crossed your arms, of course it was for a man, more specifically the man in front of you. 

He raises an eyebrow staring at you with his light brown eyes, you stared back not knowing what to say. “No woman decides to just spontaneously make a surprise meal for their friend, and you wouldn't make shit for Sasha.”

You had to agree with him there, “it’s a surprise Jean, I can't tell anybody.”

“It isn't for Captain Levi is it?” Your eyes widened at the thought of Levi even tasting your food, you could only imagine the grimace look that would plaster onto his face. 

“God no, please Jean I’ll tell you later who it's for?” You really just wanted to make it and get it over and done with, it was a confession, and you were scared you'd mess it up and having the 190cm tall boy hovering over you would most likely not help you in any way.

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered leaving, he had only pestered you as a way to hide how jealous he felt. Was it to Eren, he had seen you talking to him a couple weeks ago, but it couldn't be. Unless it was someone you knew in Trost, worry filled his mind, the love of his life confessing to another guy. He looked down, hands in his pocket as he walked away, whoever the fuck it was, was a lucky man.

The piece of paper with the recipe fell onto the countertop, it was easy enough you didn't know why you had even felt worried when making it was easy, the two eggs going into the pan, the other pan with the filling and your ingredients for the sauce being chopped up, having put the filling into the omelette, the smell of it intoxicated the air. But worst of all it had gotten outside of the kitchens and directly to where Sasha and Connie both were.

“Do you smell that?” Having stopped fighting over the bread and potato, Sasha became rabid sniffing the air as she ran forward, like a woman on a mission. Connie followed, having nothing better to do, “it’s eggs and… potatoes.” She continued sniffing rambling on about the ingredients.

Just as you had finished every component and added them all together, the omelette looked like how Jean’s mothers was. It looked perfect and even smelt perfect as well, if being a part of the Survey corps didn't pan out you knew you’d have something to fall back on, or death. Death having a higher percentage of occurring, you played it up leaving it too cool on the side as you left the dishes on the side to do after you had brought Jean back with you.

Exiting the kitchen, you walked to the opposite direction of where both Sasha and Connie were, they both found the smell, the plate being left unattended. “Dinner is served.” Sasha gleamed, grabbing a fork that you had left on the side. 

“Sasha, it could be someone’s...” Connie warned.

Sasha hadn't heard and instead started digging into the food, Connie reluctantly trying some as well. If it smelt nice it had to taste nice, and God did it taste perfect, like heaven for their mouths.

Whilst this was all occurring, you saw Jean with Eren, an unusual sight but then again, they both were somewhat friends. Jean noticed you coming up to him, but a fear erupted, were you actually here for Eren instead? “Jean.” You smiled at the boy, you had put a little note underneath the plate so once he finished you could grab the plate and leave him to read it. It was trivial but you were too scared to say it out loud.

Jean was waiting for the can i speak to Eren alone, but it never came instead you put your hand out. “Come with me.” He complied, grabbing your hand, your soft warm fingers interlaced with his own, even though the confidence of holding his hand you were scared shitless at the thought of rejection.

“You're going to tell me who it’s for now.” He chuckled through having been dragged the whole way, just as you entered the kitchen, shock filled your eyes and Jean looked between you and the scene.

The empty plate with Sasha and Connie putting their forks down, “you brats ate it didn’t you?” You seethed out letting go of Jean’s hand, they had ruined the surprise and all you could do was stay in shock.

“I’m so sorry, I told Sasha not to…” Connie trailed off seeing anger come from you.

Jean saw the dishes and had an idea for them to make it up to you, “because you two ate it, you both can clean up.” Connie obliged not wanting to get hurt by you and Sasha was in a partial food coma at how much she’d eaten.

“Y/n, it was fucking amazing.” She chuckled following Connie to the dishes.

Jean went over to the plate, “don’t forget this.” Just as he lifted the plate up to pass it, you remembered the note hiding underneath, his name written right on top of it. Your eyes widened but it was too late to say anything, Jean had grabbed it and had flipped it over.

It was for you, I fell in love with you, I’m still falling in love with you

The three lines melted his heart, he watched how your eyes began to become saddened from his silent expression. He went to speak but you didn't dare look at him, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have.”

Jean went over stuffing the note in his pocket before taking you away from Sasha and Connie, “you love me?”

“Don’t mock me Jean, just reject me if you…” Before you could finish your sentence, his grip of his hands moved to your face, grabbing it and your hair, your lips collided together in an instant. You could feel his teeth against your own, his tongue moving along with your own. Your own hands had moved to his locks of hair, feeling it entangle through your fingers, you were actually doing it. You were kissing Jean Kirschtein, your love, your happiness, your home. He heard your soft moan through the kiss making his heart go wild, your confession had been a surprise, always believing his love for you to be unrequited but here you were in his arms.

Finally letting go to breathe, his hands still brushing your hair out and cheek away, he went down to your ear, soft kisses against your jaw before speaking the four words that melted you, “I love you, too.”

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage​ @jennammaee​ @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Chapter 3

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (this chapter is a little ecchi, but I think it's still T)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

She didn't know what she was expecting when Kurenai announced that another child would be joining them soon.

He showed up a little smaller than her, with wary blue eyes and uncombed blond hair. He didn't carry anything with him.

The idea of having a forever playmate intrigued her, but after a few weeks it became clear he had no interest in playing, only fighting.

During those times when she managed to get away, she laid down on her bedroom floor curled around a picture book, and thought deeply about magical forests and open meadows. Away from stupid boys and their stupid ways.

And then suddenly he wanted to get rid of Neji. He thought she wanted to be rid of Neji, too. He was going to tattle on Neji really bad and that would be that.

Who taught him that the only way to fix things was to destroy them?

She told him she didn't mind Neji bossing her around. Maybe it's like what she's heard the adults say, that all she needs is structure. Plus, he was the only blood she had. Neji was part of her old normal and she wasn't going to give that up.

She didn't think he would listen. He seemed pretty sure about what he was talking about. But then he didn't tattle after all, and yet the fights seemed even more vigorous.

She found a volume inside herself that she didn't know she had, and it had scared her into her room. Her own ears had boomed. It reminded her of all the yellings she used to receive before Kurenai, and her instincts to hide kicked in.

It wasn't Neji who came after her, but Naruto.

He felt bad about his behavior. But he wanted something in exchange. He couldn't just have nothing after this.

She wasn't sure what 'bugging her' was going to be like, but she's been wanting to get along with him since day one. All because he didn't like Neji, she thought that would never happen.

'Sure,' she told him, and the following afternoon he pinched her arm.

_______________________________

Hinata laid down curled on her bedroom floor just like she used to when she was little.

She shouldn't be here, listening to the sounds coming through the half-inch diameter hole in the wall, his guttural teenage lust spilling over into her sanctum, the exaggerated moans of the other girl stabbing her heart.

He thinks she isn't home right now.

She wants to keep it that way.

Because no matter what he means to her, no matter how much she wants him, it can never happen.

She closes her eyes and pictures herself in the other girl's place. Girl no. 49 she calls her.

She doesn't have the courage to watch, but some twisted part of her wants the torture.

She wants to see a part of Naruto that she'll never have.

_______________________________

After the first girl, some drama had started up at school for Naruto.

She had seen Hinata's shoes in the genkan when she left, but had no idea who they belonged to.

She accused Naruto of sneaking away to invite a different girl to come over.

Now half of the female student body hated him, while the other half wanted to get some for themselves.

Hinata was disappointed to find that he relished in his new reputation as a player, that he would take whatever infamy he got if it gave him what he wanted in this world.

Some timid part of her that remained said, Good for him. After all, he deserved to be happy and enjoy his life.

And yet some shadowy part of her felt she was as good a stranger to him than a sister, seeing as how there could be no room for her as either a sister, a friend or love interest.

She thought to both test him and sabotage him after the fourth girl. Two terribly petty things she thought she would never do.

He knows when she leaves something of hers in his room, it means she wants him to come over.

So she left a pair of panties atop his bed in hopes Girl no. 5 would realize his promiscuity and go home.

It didn't work. Instead it excited Girl no. 5. Her expectations of his skill has risen with the proof that he had a revolving door of hot girls coming in and out of here and they went at it louder and rougher than the first four.

Hinata made sure to disappear before they found out she'd been home. When the coast seemed clear and Hinata feigned nonchalance as she came home, with a weak 'Tadaima' to the only other person home, she did not get the usual greeting.

She crept towards her bedroom, somehow not expecting Naruto to answer her invitation.

He sat at her low table in the middle of her room, the pair she had left behind now sitting atop her comforter.

He couldn't look her in the eyes.

He didn't seem mad, rather dumbfounded.

What a thing to give him when wanting to chat, is probably what was going through his head. Like, maybe she had an ulterior motive she was trying to express to him.

Well, she did, perhaps. This wasn't her ideal way to flirt with him, nor was it how she'd choose to shoot her shot.

She doubted her panties excited him, in the first place.

With a soft sigh, Hinata nodded to herself. She crossed her room without a word, hanging her school bag on the back of her desk chair. Then she approached her bed and picked up her underwear, telling him "Thank you for finding them," before placing them back inside her underwear drawer.

She was rooted to that spot, her hands gripping the trim of her double dresser.

From the corner of her eye, she could see him scratch at his cheek, the way he does when a reply feels too weird to say.

He stood up, and just before reaching the door he mumbled, "Just don't lose them again, okay?"

The door closed behind him, and Hinata's shoulders lowered along the length of her exhale, her stress leaving her like dropping water levels.

Then on a Sunday, when Hinata was invited to a dessert buffet with Sakura and Ino, she found out her favorite linen top with the frilly button trim had shrunk in the dryer.

While uncomfortably snug, she could still button every one but the two across her chest.

Ino loved keyhole cuts, but this would not pass social decency.

She tugged and tugged but still the buttons wouldn't reach their homes. Her eyes burned as a flurry of despair hit her in quick succession.

She was getting older. She was growing up. She was getting bigger. Like, inelegantly bigger. She loved this top. She didn't want to say goodbye to it. She didn't want to say goodbye to a lot of things.

Like choosing where to go for High School.

Something possessed her to walk out of her room and find him. She would play up her little sister role in utter defiance.

"Hinata?" Naruto shot up from the sofa and ran to her side.

"Did you dry my clothes?" More accusation than question, her voice was keened wetly with every consonant. "I can't wear this anymore."

Naruto stood there, sputtering, hands uselessly gesticulating at her ample cleavage.

She's never seen his face so red.

Did he look like this when he was thrusting into his rotation of harem girls?

"U-Uh, maybe it's still okay?" He reached out and gripped the fabric of her shirt, his rough fingers ghosting across her skin. A tingle ran up her spine. His eyes became wild for a second. As if to cover up his embarrassment, he became even more determined to prove he didn't ruin her clothes, but doing so made it worse for the both of them.

The forceful tugging made her breasts bounce in a way he was all too familiar with, but none had ever been as big as hers.

As if catching his dirty thoughts, Naruto released her and ran out of the living room, shouting spastically "I'msorryI'llreplaceit!"

Hinata had placed a hand over her exposed skin, right where he had touched her, and she couldn't fight down a smile, however pained and wistful.

This was probably all she was ever going to get.

She decided to play up the risks today, and forwent a bra, using a velvet cropped jacket to hide her nipples.

She received a lot of compliments that Sunday.

Things like this had happened between her and the object of her adoration and frustration, but nothing ever really changed.

He still brought girls over when he thought she wasn't home.

And she still snuck in to try and be a part of it, to learn more about him, to indulge is some form of masochism she didn't know she had.

It wasn't good for her heart.

And when she and Naruto decided individually that they'd stay with everyone else and go to Konoha Normal High, Hinata decided it was time to get serious about her life.

Her renewed late night phone calls with Neji gave her back her structure.

She started her own club. Called it the Volunteers Association. Basically all they did every Sunday was clean up trash in a pre-chosen location from the crack of dawn until lunch time. Beautifying their hometown was a lesson in gratitude and pride.

She also joined the Public Morals Committee, because it would look good on her resume, not because she’d developed an interest in policing others. It also helped her overcome her fear response to raised voices.

But when she did police others, she learned more and more about other people in a way she never thought she would.

For example, the majority of the porn magazines they confiscated were of G-cup models, with M-cup and C-cup ranking in second and A-cup ranking in last. This told her the preferences of the male student body. How important that information was to her? Well, it kind of helped know which boys to be leery of. She had grown to be a little more realistic about herself: She had curves.

Another example was how many students came to school in a hurry and for what reasons. Most of it was due to oversleeping, which were the result of late-night gaming (like someone else she knows), or excessive studying, or part-time jobs. Few others showed up looking like they had taken a detour to the baseball supply closet to fool around (also like the same someone else she knows).

Running in the halls ensued due to prankish behavior.

Failure to advertise for upcoming club events due to limp commitment or a loss of interest.

When the time came for bag checks, where a teacher would confiscate candy and make-up, that’s where Hinata drew the line. She knew her classmates needed sugar to make it through the day. She advised the pretty girls, the gyaru, even the ones she knew had been in Naruto’s bed, that they could still cheat the system if they were clear lip gloss and neutral colors. That really turned their impression of her around on its head.

To sum it up, everyone was going with the flow, chasing one promise of excitement after another, the future too intangible for them to grasp. Their Springtime of Youth was not over.

The amount of blank career sheets cemented her point.

_______________________________

Hinata collapsed onto a bench as the physical and mental exertion caught up to her.

The school was bustling with a multitude of craft projects as they prepared for their annual School Festival.

As a committee member and Volunteer Associate, she was running herself ragged from classroom to classroom, club to club, helping to ensure that everyone's efforts were going smoothly.

A smooth chill touched her cheek. She opened her eyes. Ino held out a cold water bottle against her heated skin, and Hinata smiled.

"Thank you," Hinata accepted the bottle and held it to her neck. Ino sat down next to her. A series of violent thumps met their ears as an irritated Kiba chased down a gloating Naruto, with Kiba's club materials in his hands. Hinata's voice cracked once she opened her mouth, but Ino's voice rang out in her stead.

"NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!"

Hinata thanked her again as she sank against the wall and relished in the soothing sensation of her water bottle. She didn't realize she had overworked her voice already, too.

"That one's going nowhere," Ino tsked quietly.

"Who?"

"Naruto-baka. He thinks he can live this way forever. Life'll stop being so funny when he's working behind a convenience store register."

"Cashiers serve an important purpose."

"So you agree he's going to end up a cashier," Ino smirked with a wink.

Hinata opened her mouth to complain, but her will instantly deflated inside of her. Ino laughed at the sequence of emotions that played out across Hinata's face, and the latter simply resumed being exhausted human jello that needed more time to restore her shape.

"A cashier baby daddy with five children, each from a different mom," Ino added.

Hinata tried to blink away the haze steadily overtaking her. "No."

Her chest twisted at the thought.

If that really came to pass, he would take responsibility. He would never leave his own children behind, even if he had to go it alone.

Hinata pressed her free palm against her eyes, her lips trembled even as they tightly pressed into a thin line.

"Hinata?" Came Ino's panicked voice.

"It's just a headache," she lied.

"When was the last time you ate?" Ino barely waited for a response. "I'll go grab some food from the cafeteria and be right back with pain relievers. Just stay right there. And no more shouting. You're done for the day!"

Ino ran off to complete her mission and Hinata couldn't be sure if she was grateful for her absence or even more afraid of it.

Just thinking about Naruto...

She doesn't understand how she still feels about him.

His entire existence hurts her, and she can't name all the ways that he does.

She wants to go back to work.

_______________________________

Hinata never thought her world could turn upside a third time. She never thought her structures could be kicked out from under her.

But then on the opening day of the School Festival, when the school gates are only open for family members, an elementary-aged girl with long, dark brown hair and sharp, lavender eyes came along by herself. A single strand dangled between those discerning eyes as they swept around her surroundings.

Hinata was managing the line outside the maid café, greeting customers in a lilac outfit, when the girl showed up.

Their eyes met.

Hers widened. With surprise. With recognition. With curiosity.

Hinata's eyes were only horrified.

The little girl bounced up to meet her.

Hinata's heart hammered in her ears, it swell to the point of choking. Her vision doubled and smeared. She tried to catch her breath, but nothing, nothing was going in. She tried to breathe faster. They call this air hunger. Her body was cold, prickly.

No. She didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to know.

The little girl eyed her from head to toe, then smirked.

"You really do like mom. But you're a little chubbier than I expected."

AN: Apologies if the third scene's timeline is written in an unclear way. It's supposed to be stuff that happened in sequence prior to the second scene.

Hm! I totally forgot how good it feels to write fanfiction. I literally had a head high the whole time. 😂

I hope you like this chapter! And let me know if I'm doing better at hooks and/or cliffhangers! I haven't looked at any of my activity since the last chapter, so I'm going to respond now if there is anything to respond to, that is.

[gh0stfacesho3]

Transfer of Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Gender Non-Specific Reader

Word Count: +3.5k 

Warning: Fluff, mild angst. Professor x Student (College Au, all characters are +18), language, mention of abuse, mention of alcohol. 

Summary: As a Professor in the states, you were used to transfer students. You weren’t exactly ready for this new transfer student who is the son of the owner of Mike Sneakers (we don’t do free sponsors here ) 

   You were especially used to transfer students because you had a doctorate in linguistics. Being this, you knew a plethora of languages, from English, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Korean, Japanese, Greek, Latin, and a few native languages. You were always fascinated by languages and how people came up with these mixes of characters and words to make beautiful phrases. Since you were a kid you started to learn other languages. You had a French neighbor in your old hometown which is where you picked it up at age 7. Then, when you were 10, your family took a trip to Mexico which is when you became interested by Spanish. You fully understood the language by age 11 due to your prior knowledge of French. Then this process just continued where you would just learn languages mainly for fun. This lead to you being a linguistics professor who also taught second languages and would take in quite a few transfer kids. This lead to the journey of Jeon Jungkook and it was definitely a wild one. 

   You walked into your office at about 9:00 and placed your laptop onto the desk. You straighten up your outfit before settling in and getting to work. As you looked through your emails, you noticed an email that was about another transfer student. You kind of glanced over it, but didn’t pay too much mind to it, assuming it was just another kid from out of country. As 10:00 started to roll around, your students walked in. Some smiled, others chugged some unhealthy energy drink, some even chatted with you before finding their seats. As everyone found their seats, you looked out to see a new student. 

“You, new kid, come up front and do that cringe introduction.” You chuckle, emitting a chuckle from a few kids. He tilts his head in confusion, probably because he doesn’t speak English. Due to your gesture though, he assumes you want him to introduce himself. 

“You don’t already know who I am?” He whispered loud enough for you to hear in his first language. 

“Actually, no, I don’t.” You responded quickly as you clasped your hands before beckoning him to the front again. He was a little shocked that you spoke Korean so well, being he had no prior information on you. You were used to kids who thought they were all that but something about this kid who was ‘dressed to impress’ rubbed you the wrong way. He walks down to the front and rolls his eyes at you. 

“I’m Jeon Jungkook...23. Korean” He said in English the best he could. You smiled and introduced yourself. 

“I’m Professor Y/L/N, find your seat now.” You responded before turning to the large chalk board and continuing your lesson. After the two hour lecture, you dismissed class. Jungkook was asleep in the back, which made you walk up to him and nudge him. 

“Its lunch time, go eat.” You say as he wakes up. He shrugged off your hand before collecting his things. 

“Filthy commoner.” He mumbled as he shoved past you. You would’ve been insulted if it were true, but it wasn’t. You collect your things and head out to your favorite cafe. Being it was a Tuesday, that class was the only one you had for the day so you treated yourself to some coffee. You notice a bit of commotion outside, but you try to ignore it and sneak inside. 

“Y/N Y/L/N!! IS IT TRUE YOU’RE TEACHING JEON JUNGKOOK?!” 

“Y/N?!?!”

“DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT JUNGKOOK?” 

You were confused by all the bombarding questions so you ran into the café and shut the door along with someone else. You turned to see the brat himself, Jeon Jungkook. 

“What mess have you fuckin brought me into?” You huffed as your back pressed against the door. 

“I didn’t do anything! I just went for a walk and got lost!” He huffed back at you. 

“Why are you so popular?” You asked as you held your hand on your forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re a horrible teacher if you can’t read a simple email. I’m the son of the owner of Mike tennis shoe company.” He responded. You rolled your eyes as stood up and walked in line, happy to see police shows up to wrangle up paparazzi. 

“What? Don’t care about my father’s company?” He mumbled. You go to order your drink and the barista looks confused. You realized you just ordered in Korean. You apologized before trying again. After you pay, Jungkook walks up and tried to get a drink. 

“C-coffee?” He basically asked, leaving the barista to ask a series of question. Jungkook looks over to you for help, making you chuckle. 

“Why should I help? You called me a shitty teacher.” You faked being offended which made Jungkook embarrassed. 

“I’ll pay for you.” He said, making you more than willing to help him. Being you already bought your drink, he just handed you a 20 like it was nothing. 

“That's way to much money Jungkook.” You said as you grabbed your coffee and went to hand him the money back. 

“It’s nothing to me and my father always says to help the less fortunate.” He said before drinking his coffee, which intern made you laugh. 

“You’re a brat but you’re a cool kid.” You say as you sit down and he follows. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he does the same back. 

“Who said you could sit with me?” Making him tilt his head. 

“Who said you got here first?” Jungkook barked back at you. You held your hands up in defense. 

“You’re going to have to get used to me being I will probably be your living translator...also whos your host family?” You waited for his response as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“I-...I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t check your email?” You teased like he did you which seemed to piss him off. 

“I can’t fuckin read English!” Which made you shocked. How could a school send this kid an email in a language he doesn’t know. You hold your hand out for his phone which he reluctantly gives to you. You mumble out the email before getting to the important part. 

“Your father has entrusted Professor Y/N with your care being they have the most experience with transfer students.” You were used to hosting kids but you thought someone of such class would be with, well you didn’t know, maybe someone the kid knew? 

“With you?” He almost sounded disgusted. You were actually upset that you didn’t read that email but you had a rough weekend. 

You sighed, “Look kid-”

“I’m not a kid!” He fussed. He was right. He said he was 23 and so were you. (Seems young for being a professor right, you’re just pretty smart and graduated early) 

“Okay, sorry. But look, you either live with me for the what, 3 months you’re gonna be here? Or ask your daddy for money to live in a hotel for 3 months.” You teased, making him sigh. 

“I’m not talking to him...that's why he sent me here.” Jungkook looked down at his now empty iced coffee. 

You stood up and patted his shoulder. “Then suck it up buttercup. Lets go get your shit and move you in.” 

“Want me to call an Uver?” The boy asked. (again, no free sponsors in this house).

“Nope. My car isn’t too far from here.” You smiled as you walked closer to the college campus. You turned before getting to campus and walked up to the car park. 

He pointed to an abandoned car that has been there for years, “Is that yours?” he teased. 

You smiled as you pulled out your key fob, clicking the unlock button to see a black lambo unlock. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and stared in awe. 

“Come on pretty boy, not scared are you?” You smiled as you hopped in. He scurried into the car with a wide smile. 

“Here I was thinking you were some poor teacher.” 

“I’m a professor first of all, second” you start the engine with a loud purr, “I have my perks.”  You smirked. 

Its been about a month since Jungkook has been moved in. One day y’all were sitting at the table, awkwardly eating dinner like you guys did every night when he got a phone call. You have never seen him smile since the first time he got in the car and besides that, he’s been a pain in your ass more than anything. Good thing is, he’s actually learned quite a bit of English and can order his food in public. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him fussing. 

“No Dad! Please you can’t make me stay here! I am studying and doing my work! This isn’t fair!” He argued, pacing back in forth before heading to his room which was a guest room. “YOU CAN’T JUST KEEP ME IN AMERICA BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF ME. MY PROFESSOR ISN’T MY BABY SITTER, THEY HAVE THEIR OWN LIFE WHICH IS BETTER WITHOUT ME!....you were only right about one thing dad... I’m a bother to everyone around me.” Jungkook finished before in went quiet. You didn’t know what to say. He knew he was being difficult because he wanted to be. He wants you to be upset and kick him out so he can go home. He wants to be out of you hair. You walked to his room and knocked, and saw something you never saw you see. Tears. 

“W-what?!” He sniffled as he turned around and rubbed his eyes. You just walked up to him and turned him around, pulling him into a hug. He was reluctant at first before he finally gave in. 

“You’re a brat yes, but you’re not a bother. And if you’d stop distancing yourself, we might be able to make this extended time more enjoyable.” Was the only thing you could say. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean to you...I just thought if maybe,”

“Maybe if I got annoyed enough I’d kick you out so you could go home?” He nodded to your question. 

“Welp, I’m a tough cookie to crack.” You smiled as you pulled away. 

“God we are the same age but you talk like a 80 year old.” He laughed as he wiped his face again. 

The two of you then go and talk about him and his life back at home. He explains how his grades are slipping and that is why he is forced to stay here longer. How he doesn’t like going to college because it’s not what he wants to do in life. Jungkook explained that he wanted to be a singer and even showed you a few songs he has covered and composed. They were really good in actuality. You agreed with him if he can get English down pat and pick his grades up, you’d help him peruse his career. 

-

It’s now been 3 months and Jungkook is basically speaking fluent English. He is also passing all your classes and is starting to open up to you a lot more. It was Spring break so you decided to go out with a few friends to get a drink. You invited Jungkook but he said he wanted to finish a paper he got an extension on so you just went out on your own. You and all your friends were dancing in the club and downing drinks like fish. You may have gotten a little too drunk being it was your first night out by yourself. Jungkook recently started to get more friends so you had some free time, but you haven’t gone out since he got here which is why you let yourself get as drunk as you did. It was towards the end of the night and the bouncer would not let you out with your keys due to how drunk you were. 

“Move you b-big bo-ouf...” You stumbled as you tried to squeeze past him. He grabbed your arm and pushed you back. You huffed before pulling out your phone and smashing keys in and calling whoever popped up. 

“Professor? Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, concerned as to why you called him after not responding to his text asking when you’d be home. 

“I-im dr-drunk and this fuckin cunt won’t let me out.” You whined as you still tried to squeeze past him. “Don’t-...Don’t fuckin touch me.”

“Look, I’ll get an Uver and come pick you up.” Jungkook said as he got his things and hung up on you. 

You looked at your silent phone with an angry expression,”...bitch” 

Jungkook came walking in and saw you sitting on the floor poking the bouncers leg. 

“Can you get this parasite off of me?” The large man asked looking down at me. 

Jungkook stoops down and helps you up. You stumble toward him before you turned to look at the bouncer and stick your tongue out. You also flipped him off before Jungkook grabbed your hand and brought you to the Uver. You sat by the window and he did the same. You two finally got to your house and he helped bring you up. You tore your arm away from him as you stumbled up the stairs. 

“I’m not a fuckin baby.” You grumbled as you immediately fell on the stairs. The male huffed as he helped you up. 

“Get OFF of ME Jackson!” You pushed him away as tears filled your eyes. “I’m not your fuckin victim anymore!” 

“Y/n?” Jungkook put his hands up and came to you slowly, “Its just me...Jungkook.” You finally started to calm down as you slowly tried to climb the stairs to your home. Jungkook helped you up and brought you to the couch. Jungkook grabbed a wet cloth and wiped the palms of your hand that were scrapped up. He then wiped your eyes and petted your head. 

After Jungkook helped you that night, there was this awkward air again. He felt like walking on eggshells around you. Who was Jackson and why did you say you weren’t his victim. Jungkook asked his classmates around campus and even a few teachers as best he could. He finally found a teacher who was willing to give him a small amount of information. 

“Now, I’m not going to say a lot because it isn’t my story to tell, but Jackson is Y/n’s ex....and let’s say he won’t be getting boyfriend of the year award.” Dr. Nick explained. Jungkook had enough information to make a firm decision. He was going to show you what a man should treat others like. He wasn’t your boyfriend or even considered you that much of a friend, but he felt guilty for living with you almost rent free (even though the school payed for his stay). 

Jungkook went to the store after he was done with classes and picked up a lot of food to make you dinner as payment for all the times you made him dinner. He bought you your favorite candy, or so he assumed because he’d always find the wrappers in the trash. He even bought you a gift card to the coffee shop you love and headed home. Being it was a Friday, he knew you would be home a little later. The more Jungkook thought about it, the more he realized he knew a lot more about you than he thought. Jungkook started to think about all the little things you did for him. How certain foods would pop up more after he mentioned them. How you would cook different meals just for his liking and make sure he had a decent environment to study in. How you would stay up late and call of work a few times just to help him study. Jungkook smiled as he started to mentally prepare himself for cooking. He also hoped he wouldn’t burn your house down because he had very little cooking experience. 

Jungkook starts cooking a dish he often enjoyed back at home: Spicy Ramen with rice cakes and kimbap. The button down shirt he wore to school was now slightly disheveled and stained. He rolled his sleeve up as he looked at the time-- 5 more minutes. Or so he thought when he heard your keys jingle at the door. He mildly panicked before setting up the food at the table and cleaning up quickly. He ran to the door as you finally started to open it and he stopped you.

“Huh?” You asked looking at his slightly sweaty face. “Jungkook if you’re having sex-” 

“AH No no no!! But I have to ask for you to stand out here for 5 more minutes...trust me.” You don’t know why but you did trust him, and so you stood there for 5 whole minutes. You thought about all the possibilities you could walk into: A girl or a guy running out half naked, your house destroyed, drugs...etc.  Jungkook came back looking a lot more put together and opened the door. You were hit with a mix of smells and were shocked. 

“J-jungkook, did you ? You didn’t- no you can’t cook can you?” You asked as you walked in and admired the kitchen. 

“I noticed you’ve been working more and I felt bad for staying here, even longer than expected... So I wanted to show you that I can be a proper man and treat another human being with respect.” 

“I don’t care the reason as long as it taste good...and it looks amazing Jeon.” You quickly wash your hands and sit down ready to eat. Jungkook sat closer to you which you didn’t think much about being the ramen was in a big shared pot. You start digging in but you try to avoid the kimbap. You didn’t know if it had seafood and you didn’t want to take a chance. Jungkook picked up a piece and brought it up to your mouth. 

“Made without seafood.” He smiled before you opened your mouth and took a bite. You smiled as you continued to eat. Jungkook ate as well before making the perfect bite. You even noticed it and tried to follow what he did, but before you could, he offered it to you. You were about to take in the food before you paused. 

“Where is all this coming from?” You asked before taking the bite You smiled and almost forgot you asked a question until he cleared his throat. 

“Well, like I said I felt bad for staying here and being a brat...I also wanted to give you a taste of my culture since you’ve welcomed me into yours.” He explained with a small blush and a smile. 

“Yeah I get that, but what's with that stuff?” You asked pointing to the flower bouquet lined with your favorite candies and snacks. 

“Oh...well the same reason.” He smiled. You were suspicious but you decided to finish eating. You heart was really warmed but he wasn’t that much of a brat. Yeah it was inconvenient on occasion, but he’s helped you a lot. He helps with chores and keeps his area clean, he is good company since you’re always alone, and well...he’s a pretty boy to keep around. Not to mention he saved you from that club when you were piss ass drunk. The two of y’all were cleaning up and things were going good...until Jungkook said the forbidden name. 

“Y/n...who is Jackson?” You almost drop the plate you were cleaning. 

“I fuckin knew you were up to something...Did you go through my room?! My fucking personal life?!” You started to fuss but by the look on his face, he didn’t. 

“When you were drunk, you called me Jackson and said ‘I’m not your victim anymore’...” He paused, looking down before looking back at you, “he hurt you didn’t he?” 

You stared at the wall, looking for the right words to say. “Yeah...he did. And I’m sorry I did that that night...but I’m not a baby. I don’t need your sympathy or your fuckin pandering.” You huffed as you started to leave the kitchen but he grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m not doing this to make up for him,...Nothing I can do can heal those scars. But I’m doing it to make up for me and my actions. And its my way of showing-....” Jungkook trailed off. 

“Showing what?” You said looking down at his hand holding your wrist. 

“It’s how I show affection to people I care about.” Jungkook said the words without really thinking. You were taken aback and pulled away from him. 

“Jungkook...I-” You started before he cut you off. 

“I know what you’re going to say. I’m not the first kid to say this am I? And you tell them all the same thing. ‘We can’t be together because I risk losing my job’ and all that...I know.” He said looking down at his feet. You were shocked he even had feelings for you. He was completely wrong because since Jackson, you kept these walls up and didn’t let anyone like you. You normally noticed when people would catch feelings and immediately turn them away...but this was different. You hadn’t realized he liked you because you were to busy pushing yourself away from him. You noticed you liked his presence more which is why you stayed later at work, to push yourself away. 

“Jungkook, that’s not it. I actually really care about you too. But there is the case with work that I don’t know if I can get passed...but I do appreciate this. And I appreciate you so much, but after Jackson...” You trailed off. 

“You don’t know if you’re ready and I understand that...but out of all the people I’ve met, your the one person I wouldn’t mind waiting for.” Jungkook admitted. He didn’t realize how strong he felt about you until he was in this moment. You also didn’t realize how strong you felt until you realized you moved closer to him. You always had your guard up around people, but you realized you were more venerable with Jungkook than with anyone else. You peered up at him to see his eyes were red from holding back his tears. 

You chuckled softly, “You’re such a baby.” You teased making him laugh before nudging you. 

“Yeah well this baby just cooked your dinner so whose baby now?” He retorted. 

“There’s that smile...”You mumbled, smiling as you two just stood there looking at each other. Jungkook’s eyes darted down to your lips before saying fuck it. He leaned in and held your cheeks in his hand. You felt this weird tension finally dissipate. You leaned in closer and placed your hands on top of his. 

“If you think about it, I graduate this year in a few months...so if we wait it out, you won’t have to worry about your job.” Jungkook reasoned as he pulled away. 

“That is true...even if you weren’t, I can always find another job.” You smiled, kissing him again. 

A/n: Sorry if this is a little rough, but I have been on a hiatus for about a year now. Writing is something I love doing but I’ve been so busy with school and have had so little motivation. I really wrote this whole thing within 2 days and I’m proud of myself. If you really liked it, hit that like and share button! If this gets enough love, I might open request again. 

[iamtheblondestblonde]

Missed You This Much

AN: So apparently I am a porn director now. This literally has no plot whatsoever and if my grandma were still alive I’d certainly get an earful for it buuuuuuut I thought you guys might enjoy.

Word count: 4.6k (go off)

Warnings: ALL the warnings, this is literal filth like I’m talking about unprotected sex, choking, size kink kinda, sex toys and overstimulation in a way that takes doing the dirty literal (not even gonna mention the language at this point) - obviously nsfw below the cut

- Have fun ya filthy animals (and wrap it before you tap it!) -

His hand on your back was slowly but surely becoming unbearable.

You wanted to curse the idiot that had the absolutely genius idea of having a team event the night of the boys’ return from a long trip in a way that would make every single sailor on this planet blush worse than anything your Orgasm blush from NARS could ever achieve. And you loved that blush to death.

But instead of taking your beautiful and amazing boyfriend straight to bed like you had wanted to since the day he’d left – which was 10 long days ago by the way – you had to put on a full face and bear mingling with the executives all night. More than one time you’d thought of somewhat inconspicuous ways to sneak off with your boyfriend so you could have your way with him but to your dismay nothing had worked out.

From the looks of it Mikko wasn’t doing any better. More than one time his hand had rested a bit lower on your back than what could possibly be considered acceptable in public. The back of your dress, or rather the lack thereof, had allowed him to feel you up in a way that had gotten you from 0 to 100 real quick.

Usually you weren’t one to get riled up quite like that by the simple action of his palm right above your ass but something had been in the air tonight. Perhaps it was because you hadn’t gotten to trail your hands over his glorious naked skin in way too long but something about the way his hand spanned the entire width of your lower back had you mentally panting at the mere memory of the way it had felt.

It didn’t exactly help that Mikko had stepped into the location looking like an absolute snack. All 6’4” of him were wrapped in your favorite suit and the smile that had lit up his face as soon as he had spotted you with some of the other wives and girlfriends had lit the room in a way that no chandelier could.

He’d worn the tie you’d tied for him before the trip because he still refused to do it himself even though you’d long taught him and it brought a smile to your lips that rivaled his own. Because you were in a public place there wasn’t a heated make out session to welcome him back but the way he had hugged you close after a short but sweet kiss with your face nestled against his chest in a way that wouldn’t ruin the look you had carefully curated for the night was no less affectionate.

The next hours had been nothing short of torture, you could see it on everyone’s faces. While the guys (and girls for that matter) usually didn’t mind the mingling and networking that was the norm for such events it was more than obvious that tonight no one was in the mood for it. Everyone just wanted to celebrate the successful road trip that had just come to an end, preferably in a bedroom if one were to ask you.

By the time it was finally acceptable to make an exit Mikko had practically dragged you towards the car, barely taking his time to ask where you’d even parked it. He had to slow down eventually though because you were no match to his incredibly long stride in your heels.

You’d gotten lots of smug looks on your way out – Josty, Burky and JT even going as far as to cat call the two of you in front of everyone – but you knew that it was only out of envy. Gabe had only barely managed to not say anything and that was only because Mel and him were antsy to get out of there themselves.

Sitting in the passenger seat gave you the freedom to let your thoughts wander to what was about to come, making you shudder in anticipation. Mikko noticed, of course, and his right hand immediately inched up from its usual place on your mid-thigh to the very top. You were convinced that if your dress would allow it you’d already have him where you needed him the most but unfortunately you’d only thought of the way it made your body look and not how practical it would be.

His white-knuckled tight grip on the steering wheel revealed that he himself was already further along in the timeline of the night in his mind and in the dim lighting from the interior and the passing city lights you could definitely see that he was already beginning to strain against his pants. For a minute you contemplated asking him to pull over and to just have his way with you right here in the car, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, but you wanted to savor this night and not rush it.

Besides, no matter how big Mikko’s car was, there was just no way to actually do it in here comfortably, backseat included.

So you waited, rather less than more patient, and endured what would arguably be the most charged minutes of your life so far.

The second Mikko pulled into the designated parking spot of your shared apartment the both of you couldn’t make it to your door fast enough. In a mad dash you practically ran to the elevator and since it basically was the middle of the night neither of you gave a shit that there might actually be someone else in this building that could set a foot in the elevator. Thankfully no one did but the two of you still put on quite a show.

Mikko had you pressed against a wall, one leg pushed in between yours and hands gripping your face tightly as he practically devoured you right there in the tiny metal box. You were moaning already, so needy and touch-starved from the past few days and the racked up anticipation from the past few hours. Your hands had already managed to loosen his tie and to push his jacket off his shoulders by the time the little bell announced that you had reached your floor.

It was times like this that made you incredibly thankful for modern technology because instead of fumbling around with a key, something that would have definitely taken an amount of tries in the double digits between the two of you in your current state, you only had to hold up your key card to the scanner before the door opened and you were finally home.

Mikko had left his bags in the car, something you were grateful for right now because it allowed you to continue where you left off earlier without a hassle but you would definitely regret as soon as you had to wash his sweaty gym clothes after the delay. He didn’t even let you get a step into your apartment before pushing you up against the back of your front door while somehow kicking off his shoes at the same time.

“I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea”, he practically growled against your skin as he dropped his head to suck along your neck while simultaneously sneaking one hand around your body to find the zipper of your dress.

“Oh yeah? Ho much exactly?”, you teased back but the light tone you had intended to use was lost because of the way his lips made you whimper. He grabbed your right hand with his free one and shoved it down towards his crotch where the outline of him now fully erect was threatening to rip the seam of his pants.

“This much. Feel how hard you make me babe.”

And feel you did.

He groaned as you made contact, slowly running your nails over the fabric the way you knew drove him absolutely wild. Unfortunately you couldn’t keep doing that forever, otherwise you’d get nowhere tonight because you needed both hands to unbutton his shirt. He had located your zipper by now as well and was hurriedly pushing it down, only stepping back far enough to access it before crowding you back against the wood as he pulled the fabric down.

You stepped out of your dress, careful for it to not get caught up in your heels and immediately Mikko took the chance to explore every inch of newly exposed skin with his hands. You couldn’t let him have all the fun though because you had finally – finally – unbuttoned his shirt all the way. The city lights streaming in through the window made any additional lighting unnecessary as you took in the beautiful body of your boyfriend.

The Sistine Chapel had nothing on him and his body belonged right up there with ‘The Starry Night’ and ‘The Kiss’, every inch of creamy skin just as beautiful as anything a master of the arts could possibly create. You could get lost in his broad shoulders, and you often did, but seeing him tonight after so much time apart was truly something special.

“If you don’t do anything but stare at me real fast I’m going to spank you woman”, his voice was low and his tone revealed that he was only somewhat serious but nevertheless you took a step closer until your bodies touched again. Even with heels on he was still so much taller than you so you had to stand on your very tippy toes and pull him down towards you at the same time so you could whisper in his ear:

“We both know that I wouldn’t object to that, it wouldn’t be the first time after all.”

His groan was music to your ears and you squealed as he swiftly picked you up like you weighed nothing and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. You were closer to eye level like this and Mikko’s mouth immediately found yours as he held you close, his strong arms never once making you doubt his ability to manhandle you without incident. He would rather thro himself on the floor to cushion your fall than drop you.

Only a close to unhealthy amount of practice in this particular aspect of foreplay made your journey to the bedroom safe. The first few times had definitely resulted in a few bumps and bruises but neither you had cared at the time, too distracted with everything else going on.

What no one might suspect was the fact that your usually uncoordinated and constantly-stumbling boyfriend was anything but in all things bedroom. He had a kind of control over his body that most men could only dream of and to say you were excited to get to experience it again first-hand tonight was probably the understatement of the century.

With an air of expertise that made you think he was paid to do this instead of chasing a puck across ice he flicked on the one lamp you liked to turn on during sex because of the warm glow it created without even breaking the kiss. He was still wearing his pants and on the way here they had created some delicious friction but now he was sitting down on the edge of the bed with you still perched on his lap.

His hands had taken a hold of your ass and he was helping you to slowly grind against him, the both of you so far gone already by now.

“Did you think of me while I was gone?” While his question might sound sweet to the unknowing ear, you knew what he was playing at.

“Yes Mik, multiple times. I really tried but nothing feels as good as when you’re with me.” He knew this already because he’d gotten his fair share of pictures but you were more than happy to provide an answer.

“Oh yeah? Did you touch yourself thinking about the time we did it in the kitchen right before I left?” Even if it weren’t for his hands slowly outlining your lacy bra and barely grazing your nipples you couldn’t prevent the moan that escaped your lips at his words.

You had – in fact – thought about the way he’d taken you on the kitchen counter that faithful morning and the images that now flooded your thoughts again had you literally dripping. Mikko could feel it too, the way you were drenching his pants and underwear right now and while it was annoying that you had to take yet another suit to the dry cleaners to get rid of the stain his strangled moan was everything.

Then it was a frantic dash to rid him of his clothes as soon as possible as you both got up and you pulled down his slacks and boxers in one swoop, discarding both in some corner already forgotten.

You literally sighed at the sight of him now in his full naked glory before you, every inch of his muscular build exposed. It didn’t matter how many times you’d touched, sucked or felt his dick already, there was still always this moment of ‘oh my god’ whenever he dropped his pants. It made sense actually, Mikko was a huge guy so it shouldn’t really be a surprise that his dick was proportionate to his body but to see it in real life was something else entirely. To see it bouncing against his abdomen had your thoughts running a mile a minute and now you were more than impatient to feel full again.

It was as if he felt your anticipation but wanted to be a little shit about it because he now took his time in undressing you, dropping your bra straps at a pace that would have made a snail proud. It was sensual, of course, but you really needed him to hurry up right this second. You didn’t even know where he had suddenly found all of this self-control but you cursed whichever brain cells of his that were responsible for your misery.

An ice-age later he had finally rid you of the scrappy piece of fabric, eagerly exploring your boobs as if he hadn’t seen them over a hundred times already. He pushed you back onto the bed so you were spread out before him but when he moved to take your panties off at the same pace you finally drew the line.

“Mikko please, I just really really need you inside me. Like right now.”

He must have seen the desperation in your eyes because he finally let up, pulling your panties down at an acceptable speed and moving to hover over you. You thought you’d finally get your long-time wish but then he pulled back.

“Actually, can we try something?”, he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Babe we can try anything you want right now as long as it means that I’ve got your dick inside of me within the next ten seconds.”

You almost thought he’d waste some of his precious given time with making a dirty joke like you knew he wanted to but instead he just moved towards your nightstand. Since you’d ditched condoms in favor of birth control a while ago and you were so dripping wet that you could probably cure the Californian drought so there really was no need for lube right now you knew there was nothing of value in those drawers, or so you thought. The same gleam was still in Mikko’s eyes when he turned back around to face you and you instantly recognized the item in his hand.

“I’ve thought about incorporating this ever since you sent me that one picture at the beginning of the trip. Needless to say I’ve had a couple of rough days behind me.”

Excitement bubbled up inside you and now the look in your eyes matched his. Mikko wasn’t one of those guys that got intimidated by sex toys and he’d even tried some of yours on you but you’d never actually used one during sex.

“I think I came up with a way how to best do this”, he mumbled as he stepped closer to you and you motioned for him to go ahead so he could show you the ropes. To your surprise he settled against the headboard of your bed, legs spread out in front of him. So far you weren’t really sure what his plan was exactly. He motioned for you to come closer and you obliged but as you moved to straddle his lap like you often did he stopped you.

“No babe, the other way.” His hands gently guided your hips and helped you straddle his thighs with your back facing his chest and your knees on either side of him. You moved to stroke him while the other hand dropped to fondle his balls but he quickly caught your wrists in his hands, effectively ceasing all movement. “Don’t please, I already won’t be able to last as long as I want to.”

With one swift movement Mikko lifted your hips off his thighs and moved you so you could align yourself and then he was finally inside you. Sinking down on him was already a feat in itself but with the change of position you could feel him reaching places that made your mind go blank. The both of you simultaneously groaned once he finally bottomed out and you took a couple of seconds to adjust to him filling you up like this.

Once his grip on your hips grew even tighter you knew you had to move or else your boyfriend would lose every ounce of self-control that was still left at this point. He gently guided you along as you slowly rotated your hips, the both of you moaning already. He took his time covering your neck and shoulders in kisses and every few seconds you could feel his teeth grazing your skin when he had to stop himself from just pounding up into you while you were still finding your groove.

“Look up babe, I want you to watch yourself”, he murmured in your ear and you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes in the mirror that was strategically placed across your bedroom. It had done you many good deeds already but tonight it was on a whole other level. This position was becoming one of your fast favorites already but to be able to watch Mikko lose himself in you was what would make this night so very memorable.

You watched his right hand pat around on the comforter before finding what he had been looking for, the silver vibe. The anticipation made you clench around him and he groaned and you wondered what it would be like once you both finally got to experience the real deal but thankfully you didn’t have to wait much longer until you’d find out.

Mikko kept the slow grinding pace that allowed him to go so incredibly deep as he switched on the vibe, it’s soft vibrations filling the room with a different kind of noise. He slowly raised it to your chest, first teasing one and then the other nipple with it while you couldn’t help the moans tumbling out of your mouth. Once he deemed the amount of attention your breasts had gotten enough for now he tapped the vibe against your lips. “Suck”, was his only command and obediently you opened your lips to wet the toy.

You tracked his movements in the mirror as he slowly dropped his hand towards where you needed it. The moment the vibe connected to your clit was honestly life changing. You immediately arched your back, trying to get more of that amazing feeling between your legs.

Mikkos left hand immediately shot up and wrapped itself around your neck, his long fingers engulfing it almost completely and effectively holding you still as he moved the vibe away.

“Oh God, Mikko more, please give me more”, you practically sobbed, begging him to continue.

“Shhh babe”, he soothed you before scooting the both of you away from the headboard a little. Then he leaned back again, his hand on your throat giving you no choice but to follow him so you were both now leaned back at an angle. With wild eyes you watched him move the vibe closer again and he obliged, placing the vibe back onto your clit while never once faltering in the agonizing but amazing pace at which he was grinding into you.

The change in angle had him grinding against your g spot and now your orgasm was coming at you with lightning speed. Mikko could tell so like the good boyfriend he was he kept doing the exact same thing while you tried to mentally prepare for the absolute tsunami that was about to crash over you.

With one last thrust from him the wave finally crested and your mind literally went blank as you thrashed in his lap, only his hand stopping you from entering a whole other dimension. It felt as if the high would never end and with the vibe still buzzing against your most sensitive part and Mikko keeping up his pace you had only barely come down when your second orgasm hit, detonating like a bomb yet again.

Mikko was moaning loudly below you, trying his best not to blow his load as your walls spasmed around him for the second time and almost failing but somehow pulling through. You had drenched his entire lap and he could feel the slow trickle of your juices down the sides of his thighs, not that he minded.

After two close orgasms like this you needed a second to regroup so you weakly pushed his hand with the vibrator away, the sensation too much now. All energy had left your body and you were a ragdoll in his lap, panting like you’d just crossed the finish line at a marathon.

“Holy fuck Y/N, that was… just wow. Do you want me to take over?”, he asked, knowing full well that you weren’t able to stay on top like this right now. You couldn’t even form any coherent sentences right now if you tried so you only nodded, allowing him to lift you off of him and set you on the mattress so only your ass was in the air.

“You look so good like this, I think about you every second when I’m gone. You’re always on my mind.”

You reached back and Mikko knew exactly what you needed, lacing your hands with his own and dropping them next to you before carefully entering you again. The first few times he’d been worried to continue after you were in your blissful post-orgasm state but you’d explained him many times that you liked being at his complete mercy like this, for him to basically use you in whichever way he wanted to.

So when he bottomed out in you once again you only led out a blissful sigh, happy to have him so close to you. He moved slow but calculated, hitting deep every time before pulling out all the way only to enter him once again. He kept this pace for a while, giving you enough time to pull yourself together a little after the mind-blowing ordeal you had just been through.

“You think you got one more in you?”, he asked, voice definitely strained from keeping this antagonizing pace for so long.

“Let’s find out.” He let go of one hand to reach for the vibe again, setting it on a lower setting than it had been before so you could ease back into it.

“Can you hold it yourself babe?” He dropped it into your hand then, moving to settle both of his hands on your hips. You shifted a little until you found a comfortable position where you could reach down and let out a content groan as soon as you felt the vibrations again. You’d thought that you would be too spent for this by now but to your surprise you were actually holding up pretty well, an orgasm just below the horizon.

Mikko slammed into you then, pulling out a little before bottoming out again on the next thrust, both of your moans far louder than the little vibrator in your hand. You arched your back as he kept up his almost brutal pace, his hands tightening with every thrust and you were sure he’d leave bruises yet again but you certainly didn’t mind with the amount of pleasure he was currently giving you.

It didn’t take long until the combination of his powerful thrusts and the vibrations on your clit had you teetering towards the edge yet again.

“Mikko I’m so close”, you panted, slightly worried that he wouldn’t hear you over the sound of everything happening right now.

“No. Not yet. Hold it back and wait for me, I want to feel you pulse around me.”

His demand was clear and yet you let out a frustrated whine because your orgasm was right there and you honestly didn’t know how much longer you could stop it from approaching.

The stutter in his thrusts gave you hope because it meant that he wasn’t far behind you either so you turned your head so you could watch him in the mirror. His bottom lip was pulled in between his teeth and his brows were slightly knit as he chased his orgasm in desperation, every muscle in his body flexed tightly.

“Fuck baby cum for me now”, he rasped out and you finally let yourself fall over the edge, loud moans tumbling out of your mouth as he thrust inside you one, two, three more times before burying himself inside you and throwing his head back in pleasure with a guttural groan. His jaw went slack as he stilled inside you, filling you up with his cum and only heightening the sensations of your own orgasm. It was as if someone had exchanged your blood for gasoline, heat racing through your entire body and leaving everything heightened and trembling.

Your legs gave out from under you and Mikko followed you down onto the mattress but careful not to crush you with his weight. For a few moments you just lay there, the both of you basking in what had just happened. You let out a content hum as he reached up to brush your hair out of your face, his soft touch in such stark contrast to his bruising grip only seconds ago.

But that was the thing about your boyfriend, he might go crazy in the bedroom sometimes – which you obviously loved – but he was still the gentle giant you had fallen in love with all those months ago. And you’d endure all the height difference jokes in the world if it meant that he would stay with you forever.

Your sweet and mushy thoughts were slowly but surely interrupted by a buzz and both Mikko and you turned towards the source of the noise, him still deep inside you but slowly softening. He picked up the small vibe that you must have carelessly discarded at some point during your orgasm and switched it off. Carefully he pulled out of you and you already missed the feeling but took his outstretched hand to help you stand nevertheless.

Mikko raised the now turned off toy towards his face before saying:

“You have been a trusty friend and we’ll definitely use you again but first this beautiful young lady and I have to shower. I hope that’s okay for you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was actually having a conversation with a sex toy because it was so typical of him. And you wouldn’t have him, or this, any other way.

 AN Part 2: I 10/10 recommend trying all of the above ;)

[flameo-hotman]

I'm loving all of these, so how about another Zuko adoption - menu item 33? Or whichever number is *Ozai* (you've actually inspired me to start drafting my own version of this, although a bit angstier than your ficlets)

You have placed an order for adoption number 30. Ozai adopts Zuko. (Happy to inspire you! And I love angst! Tag me when you do this because I would love to see it!)

Lee found himself standing in a strange forest, as the Mother of Faces watched him curiously.

“Do you like your new face, your new life, child?”

Lee furrowed his brow and glanced down into the water in the pool seeing his face starring back at him. Dark brown eyes looked back at him. He didn’t know what she was talking about.

But he knew to respect the spirits, so he thanked her.

“I did this once before for a woman, I would advise you to return to the town and find her.”

Lee agreed that he would and then he left.

He had been searching the forest for wild game, and he wasn’t sure how he had come to stand in front of the spirit. But he supposed that he should do as the spirit had instructed.

He stayed the night at a kind couple’s home, and after they told him the story of Love Amongst the Dragons, he had gone to sleep. In the morning he started his search, but he couldn’t find the woman that the spirit had told him to find.

Lee wondered if he told someone what the spirit had told him then maybe he would have more success, but he thought better of it.

A month passed like this, and he decided the woman must have left the city.

So he went to the Caldera hoping the Fire Sages would have an answer for him.

Instead, they brought him to the Fire Lord and after a brief discussion, he was told that with Prince Zuko missing for a little more than a month now,  they needed someone to pose as the Prince, until the boy could be found.

It was wrong, but Lee was hungry and even though he should be searching for the woman that the Mother of Faces had told him about, he agreed. The Fire Sages assuring him that once the true prince was located, they would ask the spirits to guide him to the woman.

So Lee joined the Royal Family and became the Fire Lord’s son.

He quickly regretted it. If he had thought that Fire Lord Ozai would be a kind father, he had been wrong.

Ozai was cruel and while Lee was a better fire bender than the real Prince Zuko according to his teachers Lee was terrified and understood why Zuko had run away.

He tried to run away only once.

His adoptive father burned him for it, telling him the tale of what exactly made Zuko run away.

Lee hated Ozai.

He did make friends with Azula though. She liked how resourceful he was, and so she taught him some of the advanced fire bending she was learning. Azula was the one who explained that her uncle had been banished for helping her brother run away.

General Iroh had been caught during the escape, and no one knew where Zuko had gone. Though Iroh was out searching for the Avatar, Zhao being assigned to keep tabs on the man, so he could not betray them.

Lee wondered if maybe Ozai didn’t want the real Zuko to return.

He didn’t want to think about that.

Years passed like this. And Lee wanted whatever life he must have traded with the Mother of Faces back. It made sense when he thought about it. She had asked him at the time if he liked the new life and face she’d given him.

He and Azula talked at length about what it was that he may have been running away from. At one point she joked, almost hopeful sounding, that maybe he had been Zuko. Lee rolled his eyes and told her that he doubted that, but then he admitted that he did like the idea of Azula being his real sister, even if it would mean that he had run away only to find himself right back where he started.

“You know Father gave the real Zuko the same scar he gave you.”

“He told me.”

Lee had been pretending to be Zuko for three years now.

And Ozai summoned him and Azula to him.

Apparently, Iroh had betrayed them, and he wanted the two of them to go capture the man.

After they left the throne room, Azula turned to Lee and said, “This is your chance to getaway. If the Mother of Faces gives you back your old face, Father won’t be able to find you. You could be free.”

“But I would be leaving you alone here with Father, and I can’t do that.” Lee sighed. She and their friends had been his only allies for the past few years and he didn’t want to leave the girl he had come to think of as his sister behind in this hell.

“She gave you a new face, she can do the same for me, stupid.”

He felt like an idiot.

But they went to the Mother of Faces, and she told them she would only give one of them a different face. Azula told the spirit to give Lee back his old life and face. She would just have to come back next year.

Zuko stood in front of the Mother of Faces. It was a different lake, but he did so with the same face only three years older.

There would be no escape. Not unless they went to find Uncle.

Not to capture him, but to join him.

They would find no safety otherwise.

[mikrowrites]

lost

John B x sister!reader, JJ Maybank x reader

summary: Y/N Routledge looses everything to the sea.

warnings: angst, major character death (but not really *wink*)

a/n: how dare outer banks steal my heart like this!

Y/N had once been scared of the ocean.

When she was five years old John B was so excited to teach her how to surf. The six year old boy was a natural, and had convinced their father to allow him to teach Y/N.

They both sat on a board, the waves bobbing them up and down. John B paddled with her as they dove under a wave together, coming up to stand as he held Y/N’s hand in his. After a steady surf off the wave, they suddenly were flung backwards, off the board and into the churning sea.

Y/N’s lungs burned with salt water, the currents pulling her back under as her limbs flailed, gasping in the seconds she emerged from the surface. She could briefly hear the shouts of her brother and father until they were muffled by the deep blue waters as she screamed.

Suddenly a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her up and onto a board, Y/N coughing up water as warm hands guided her onto her side.

“That’s it, sweetheart, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” “Big John” Routledge reassured his daughter, pulling her shaking and crying form into his chest.

John B had apologized profusely and cried for hours, but Big John was sure to calm him down and Y/N made sure to show she was fine.

But ocean scared her for some years.

Once the HMS Pogue was acquired when Y/N was 13, she began to warm up to the waters that surrounded her home. JJ Maybank had been an extraordinary surf instructor and John B loved hauling in fish with his sister.

Y/N prided herself on straying from the annoying little sister stereotype. Sure, she and John B would ruffle each other’s feathers from time to time, but they were thick as thieves. Others would assume they were twins without prior knowledge. John B was the brawn and Y/N was the brains. However, a few unlucky kooks learned not to get in a scramble with her.

And Y/N adored her father. He wasn’t always present and was obsessed with the Royal Merchant, but she was a daddy’s girl through and through. She would brew his favorite coffee in the morning, walking into his office where nine times out of ten he was passed out exhausted, his head rested on his desk. Y/N would set the mug on the usual coaster, brush his messy hair aside and kiss his forehead, before closing the door behind her.

Kiera had been a best friend in a time Y/N needed one most. Big John and John B were clueless when it came to “girl stuff”, and Kie was there to be a sister to the girl. How to braid, tame, and cut Y/N’s wild hair, the right amount of mascara needed, a quiet tampon distributer, Kie was there to teach her and pass knowledge onto Y/N’s oblivious brother.

Pope always extended help towards the girl for homework and studying. Y/N made an effort to maintain her grades and would always make Pope smoothies every time he helped her. Y/N would do grocery runs with him to make some spare cash while John B worked on Mr. Cameron’s boat.

And then there was JJ. Ever since the scrappy blonde entered her life, Y/N found herself close to him. He taught her to surf, roll and hit a joint, to ride a dirt bike. JJ was the one who enabled her against John B and Big John’s wishes. Y/N wouldn’t lie that she harbored a crush towards the boy, but would never, ever, admit it.

So of course her heart beat faster as JJ wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. The girl was shaking, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was the cold stormy air or the fear.

Yes, maybe it was fear.

The fear that ripped through her chest at the sight of John B’s bloodstained hands, how she anxiously hoped for him to evade the police. The fear that squeezed her heart as she embraced her brother so very tight, before he and the Phantom pulled away from the dock.

John B and Sarah Cameron were out there in the storm, and Y/N was so incredibly scared.

The thunder boomed and the tent walls flapped in the wind as the four pogues sat in uncomfortable plastic chairs, waiting to hear what was next. JJ had begun rolling circles on Y/N’s shoulder, whispering sweet assurances in her ear.

“Your brother knows how to sail a storm.”

“They’re probably in Mexico by now!”

“Drinking Piña Coladas on the beach.”

“The Phantom’s gonna get them there, she will.”

Y/N looked up to see three police officers emerge into the tent in neon raincoats, eyeing the teens with a sad look.

She knew that look. She knew it all too well.

Y/N was sitting on the porch strumming her ukulele, looking out at the marshes as the sun rose. John B was out with JJ getting breakfast, and Y/N smiled at the thought of the touristy food at The Wreck.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a soft knock on the screen door. Y/N turned her head to see Peterkin leaning on the doorway. “You’re getting real good at playing that, Y/N.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Y/N politely responded, smiling nervously. “Is everything okay?”

Peterkin sighed, stepping over to Y/N and sitting in a chair across from her. “No honey, it’s not. Is your brother here?”

Y/N sat up, laying the ukulele aside. “No, he’s... out—why? Did he do something? I swear, if he got into a fight, he was defending himself—“

“No, Y/N. It’s not about your brother.” Peterkin sighed, leaning forward in the chair. “I suggest we wait for him, thought. I don’t want you to hear this alone.”

Luckily John B and JJ turned up about 10 minutes later, the two boys shouting as they ran up the wooden stairs with boxes of food. John B halted in his tracks at the sight of his sister nervously sitting on the couch and Peterkin sitting across from her. The police officer turned over her shoulder. “Hey, John B. Come sit with us.”

The boy nodded, loading all the food into JJ’s arms as he ushered him inside, John B turning and sitting next to his sister.

And Peterkin gave them that look. The glint of the eye, a sagged demeanor, that deep frown.

It was pity.

“Your father has gone missing. He is presumed lost at sea.”

Y/N stood before any of the other pogues could, walked up to the police. She couldn’t force a single world to spill from her lips, she just looked at them desperately.

Officer Shoupe looked a the young girl. Out of the two Routledge kids, Y/N was always the peacemaker. He knew her by that, so much like her gentle father.

Shoupe rested his hand on her shoulder, turning to the three other teens who had now gathered closer. “Did you find them?” Pope questioned.

The officer sighed, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “No.”

“So they got away?” Kiara implored them to elaborate, JJ turning to look at Y/N, who kept her gaze fixed on Shoupe.

Shoupe looked to the other two police officers before in a grave voice responded:

“We lost them. I’m sorry.”

Y/N felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. Like the wind had suddenly escaped her lungs. The word “lost” echoing in her head.

“Lost”, like her father had been.

“Lost”, like her brother was.

Her ears began to ring, the noise around her dulling. Y/N’s eyes shifted over Shoupe’s shoulder, staring at the raging sea. The officer was saying something to her, but it fell on deaf ears.

Around her Kie, Pope, and JJ broke down, mourning the loss of their friend, their families entering the tent to help ease their sadness.

Y/N couldn’t hear the sobs, just the words, “lost, lost, lost”. It was when Shoupe removed his hand from her shoulder everything came back like a slap to the face. Her faculties returned and overwhelmed her. The thunder and pounding rain, the hysterical sobs of her friends, Y/N’s own heartbeat.

She noticed JJ attempting to fight the cops, screaming at them and accusing them. Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, unsure if she needed to throw up or scream.

JJ had been pulled away and brought into an embrace by Pope’s family, and that’s when it clicked to Y/N. She looked at the Heywards, then to the Carreras, and her lips began to tremble. Her chest heaved for air as she watched the families grieve.

Because now, who would be there to grieve with her?

Y/N’s family was dead. Her family was lost.

Her knees connected with the ground, the girl hunched over as the first sob ripped from her throat. Y/N grasped her arms, eyes squeezed shut as tears began to drip down her cheeks.

JJ felt his blood run cold when he heard her scream.

He turned away from the Heywards, immediately running over to Y/N and sliding on the ground, gathering her up in his arms and hugging her so incredibly tight. Fuck, why hadn’t he thought of her? Why hadn’t he comforted her before trying to start a fight with Shoupe?

Y/N screamed into his shirt, gripping the material in her hands. JJ rested his chin on her head, looking up at Kiara and Pope who were still embracing their families.

JJ let himself be selfish for a moment, thinking “lucky for them to have family to cry to”. He was brought back to reality by Y/N sobbing something, the boy looking down at her in confusion. “What was that?”

Y/N heaved a few heavy breaths, her voice heavy with heartache. She repeated the same word over and over, JJ feeling a new bout of tears welling up in his eyes as he pulled her closer.

“Lost.”

[fictitiousfoodie]

It’s A Family Thing

Summary: A boy falls for a girl

Pairing: Reader x Ian Kildner ( fake person)

Word Count: 3847

Okay so here are something to know before you read. The teams are real but all the people fake it was easier for me with this story.

Juliette stood by a high table, wearing a stunning and elegant black dress A-line gown with a respectable but fun slit up the side, talking to a relatively wealthy seeming older gentleman. His tux was custom, hair grey, and thinking, and the date he had brought with him was barely legal to drink, showing almost all her cleavage, and was sipping her cosmo through a straw. But Juliette didn't care about any of that right now. All she cared about was convincing this man that a donation to the team's charity would be a brilliant investment. 

"Mr. Mason donating to the teams' charity is not only a write-off for you with tax breaks, but it allows lots of people to see just how good you and your company are." Manson Construction was responsible for building half of Boston and rebuilding the other half. They had gone through a string of bad publicity when someone leaked rumors of the company cutting corners regarding safety protocols to the local newspapers. The stories had been proven untrue, but they had still caused doubt in the community. Mason Construction was a good company, and Juliette knew that. "Manson Construction on every banner we use when the team works with charities like Habitat for Humanity or does an event with local children's hospitals something like that could change how the community views your company," she said with a passionate and firm promise to her voice. Just as Juliette finished her speech, a loud, sharp crack of noise erupted from behind her. 

Juliette's brother Jack, the youngest of her four brothers, and his girlfriend Ashley had been fighting all night. Juliette had been keeping an eye on it. Ashley was not a great girlfriend. Juliette was pretty sure Ashley was in it for the idea of dating a pro athlete, and Jack was in it cause Ashley was hot. Juliette had noticed more and more that Jack seemed done with Ashley's crap, and from the Way, Ashley was now storming out and the fact Jack wasn't going after her, he had decided to end things tonight in a public place. 

Juliette turned back to Mr.Mason, who was chuckling to himself. "Your brother seems to be quiet, the unlucky fellow tonight in regards to love. But you are better than luck. You're smart, and you've got gumption, Juliette. I like the image you've given the charity, and I think it will provide great support and publicity for my business. I will send you a check tomorrow with the donation. If the team or the charity needs anything, you let me know," he said, smiling and walking away with his old wrinkled hand on his arm candy's ass. 

Jules shivered in disgust as she watched arm candy giggle and kiss him on the cheek, then took a deep breathe she had done it. She had landed another massive donation for the charity. 

Suddenly a large and heavy arm flopped around her shoulder, and her oldest brother Brandon was there by her side. 

"Way to go, Jules. It looks like Mr.Mason was pleased with the idea of being the teams highest paying donor', he said with pride and admiration for his sister. 

"He said he would send over the check tomorrow. I need a drink, and to get these heels off my feet are killing me." She laughed, walking to the bar. 

Brandon was the oldest of the four brothers at the age of 33. He had retired from the league last year due to a knee injury. The team hired him as the skills coach. Brandon was always responsible. He was the boy next door with a killer smile and genuine charm. The next one down was Henry, who was 31 and was the team's new athletic trainer. He was sporty and the smartest. He wanted to be a doctor when he was younger but found a way to combine his love of medicine and learning with his love of hockey and the team he had grown up around. He immediately change to sports medicine. The third one was Eric. He was the middle one, wild and crazy. He was 28, had been on the team as a defender for four years now, and made sure everyone knew his opinion on any given subject.

Jack, the youngest of the brothers, was a sweet kid, but just that, still a kid in many respects. He had the talent and a good heart, but he needed to grow up. He was 25 and still trying to figure out many things about life but was too stubborn to listen to anyone's advice. Finally, there was Juliette, the youngest out of the five children and the only girl. She grew up tough and headstrong, just like her brothers. Her mother made sure she was balanced, though, so she had put her in dance as a little girl, and she had loved it. She still went to classes and taught little ones occasionally. Her brothers were always there in the front row to cheer her on then give her noogies after. She was 24, but most people thought she was older because of how she held herself.   

All 5 of the siblings looked alike, all athletic, tall, and toned the brothers ranging in muscle definition. All five had dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. There was no denying they were family. The dark hair came from their dad, and the eyes had come from their mom.  The whole family was here tonight, and Jules loved that. Everyone in the family had found a way to be apart of the team or organization in a job they loved. She loved being around her family and the constant support they gave. Her mom had started the Boston Bruins charity when her dad had been a player. She was still running it and was grooming Juliette to take over soon. Being a Bruin was a family thing. They had been born into it and loved every minute of it. 

She and Brandon were standing by the bar ordering drinks when she saw out of the corner of her eye, Henry and Eric walk up. 

"So, we all saw the slap that Ashley gave Jack, right?" Henry said in a cautious and questioning tone. 

"Yes, the whole room heard it. Did you see where he went?" Brandon asked cautiously. 

"No, but my guess would be the locker room, someone should go check on him?" Eric said, turning towards Jules. 

"Yea yea yea, I'll go. Even though one of you are married and ones engaged," she said over her shoulder, walking away toward the locker room. 

She found Jack sitting in his locker with a cold beer pressed to his face. head drooped down and fidgeting with his phone. "You shouldn't call her, "Jules said, pulling the drink away to check out the handprint on his face. It wasn't nearly as bad as it had sounded probably just stung. Ashley wasn't abusive, just dramatic. 

"Why? Cause she slapped me?" 

"No, because she gave the bartender her number about 15 mins before that happened. You made the right call. She didn't love you; she loved the status."

"I know. I just thought she was the one at the beginning. "He sighed as Jules sat next to him. 

They sat there for a few minutes in silence. Jules knew he would be fine just needed someone to lean on for a bit, and sure enough, after about 10 minutes, he handed Jules his beer and stated with new energy, "There are plenty of fish in the sea. I have to find the right one, right?!" Jack jumped up and started walking to the doors. 

"Yes, just please be safe and smart and maybe go home alone tonight," Jules shouted to him as he strutted out the doors. 

Jules took a sip of the beer and sighed, starting to take her shoes off, enjoying the silence. When she heard the doors slam open and Jimmy Peters and his date for the evening tumbled though not breaking the sloppy kiss and handsy embrace, they were tangled in. They never noticed her as she grabbed her high heels and beer and left the room. She was in the hall on the way back, laughing to herself about the thought of giving Jimmy a hard time the next time she saw him when she heard the classic catcall whistle from behind her. 

She turned to find Ian Kildern, one of the team's defensive players. He was 6'4", muscled more than the average hockey player and curly brown hair with deep green eyes. His tux was well altered; it hung perfectly on him, showing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Ian was an excellent player, intelligent, lightning-fast, and a great leader. He was 26 and had been in the league since he was 19. The Bruins had picked him up four years ago when his contract had been up with the Tampa Bay Lighting. They were friends, but Jules was closer to other players, and usually only had a small talk with easy, polite jokes. 

"Juliette Calloway, you clean up nice." He said in a semi-serious, mostly mocking tone.

"Shut up, Ian. Don't you have a date to dazzle like the rest of the team?" She said in a cheeky and light-hearted tone. 

"No, actually, Kelly and I broke up last weekend."

"Oh, that's right; her name was Kelly, and I'm so sorry to hear that after a week together, you had to call quits. You must be devastated. She said with a wink. Knowing fully, he had never planned on keeping it serious. Ian didn't sleep around a lot, but he also didn't keep girlfriends long. 

He chuckled, "Yeah, she was allergic to my dog." He changed the subject when he noticed the bottle in her hand, "You drinking alone - drowning your sorrows?"

"No, actually," she said in a matter of fact tone, "I was consoling my brother."

Ian's face squished up, and he sucked in a breath, "Yea, I saw - well heard the slap. Is he okay?"

"He's fine. It's his pride that's hurting more than anything, although he won't admit to it", She explained on a sigh. 

"Well, I'm glad he's okay. It's tough trying to figure everything out—the balance between the game and social life. Suddenly having money and not know if women want you the status or the money. It can be a rough and bumpy ride."He said with an understanding tone. 

"You sound like you have some experience, but you seemed to have figured it all out." 

 "I had my mistakes and issues, but the key difference is I didn't have a last name that's attached to 2 legends. Jack has a whole lot more spotlight from the league because of your dad and oldest brother. I could make my mistakes in private." 

"So, you had a girl slap you in front of your entire team and about 45 VIP guests?" Jules questioned, intrigued to hear his answer. 

"Okay, well, no, I never had that, but I did have a date throw up on me at an event one time. Rachel Madison, I'll always remember that name now. She hadn't eaten all day and then started doing shots of tequila. The smell was horrendous. It was like...

"Ew, I don't want to know! Please stop you win. That's disgusting." She fussed, cutting him off and giggling at the idea. 

"Well, then, Miss. Date Judger where is your perfect event plus one this evening." He asked mockingly, looking around the hallway they were slowly walking down. 

"Oh, I don't ever bring a date to an event that mom and I are running. I did once or twice and always felt bad that I left him standing somewhere while doing things for the event, plus dating in my life is hard. They tend to get offended when I know more about the game or jealous when I spend all my time here at the arena with you guys OR my brothers bully them, and they can't take the heat." 

They had almost reached the doorway to the main lobby, where the fundraising event was when Ian's ear perked up as he heard his favorite song come on. It Had To Be You by Harry Conick Jr. He grabbed her hand put the bottle of beer in her hand on the floor, and stated softly, "It's a great song - I wouldn't want it to go to waste since you don't have someone to dance with."

Surprised by the sudden change in tone, Juliette lost her voice a little and had to clear it before asking, "Ian Kildern, are you asking me to dance?"

He slowly started to pull her into his arms, saying in a volume just barely above a whisper, "I guess I am. Are you saying yes?"

"I guess I am." She said, staring into his eyes and falling into the sway of his body. Still stiff at first, she slowly drifted further into the daze the music mixed with his look and tone of voice had caused, eventually allowing her to melt completely into him. Neither spoke to busy enjoying the moment. It had been years since she had slow danced, and she was enjoying being wrapped in someone's arms. Not just any someone, but someone who had made her laugh and had been having a good conversation with, not to mention he smelled incredible. 

Ian couldn't believe he was dancing again. He had stopped bringing dates to events because it always fell short of what he wanted the evening to be. But with Juilette, he couldn't help but notice her laugh at his story or the way she had softened and molded to him as they danced. Hand in hand, his left hand rested at the small of her back, her head resting on his chest her right on his shoulder. She felt good in his arms. He felt something different for her, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. The music drifted away as the song ended, and they both stopped swaying. She pulled her head back but didn't pull away; she just looked at him, waiting for him to speak first, but Ian didn't want to say anything anymore. The smell of her vanilla perfume. The blush that had risen in her cheeks, the way she was waiting for him. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to feel those soft pink lips pressed to his. Before he knew it, she was wetting her lips and starting to lean in because she had wanted it too. Never one to miss the opportunity; he leaned in and pressed his hand into her back more, drawing her closer. They were a whisper away from each other when Jimmy and his date exploded from the locker room with laughter, pulling Ian and Jules apart. Jimmy and his date rush by them and unseen to the car in the parking lot. 

"Well, it's late. I should be going," Ian said, trying to hide the disappointment that the moment was gone from his voice. 

"Uh, yea, it's late. I should be finding mom to see if she needs help with anything. Good night Ian and thank you for the dance.", She said, turning and walking away before he could say or do anything. 

It took a split second for him to decide, but he had made his choice he wanted her. He wanted to hold, kiss, love, and keep Juliette Calloway forever. 

Ian couldn't stop thinking about that night. It had been two weeks, and all he could think about was Juliette Calloway. He had been indifferent to her before that night. Ian had had conversations with her but always just regarded her as almost one of the guys. And now he couldn't get her out of his head. The way her eyes sparkled with what he hoped was lust and something more. The way she didn't back away from him and the chemistry in the air. He needed to do something, but what? 

Friday games were always Juliettes favorites. The offices were always more energetic with Friday games as everyone was excited to watch them. Juliette always ran home at lunch for an hour or so to let out Wayne, her Weimaraner, go potty and play, then she would change into her jersey and jeans. She would come back and finish up work, then relax until the game started. Today was no different. She got home and was greeted by Wayne's barks and excited tail. She let him into the backyard and threw her bag and keys on the counter. She loved her home. It was warm and welcoming with leather couches and natural linens. She left the back door open for Wayne to come back in and walked to her bedroom. She was opted for wearing Jack's jersey tonight, paired it with her black jeans and favorite booties. She was excited and happy about tonight's game. Hence, she decided on a smokey eye - if she was honest with herself, she was thinking about her evening with Ian when she had decided on it but pushed it away and assured herself it had nothing to do with him. Wayne had yet to come back in; she went in search of him to find him bathing in the sun and enjoying the day just as much as she was. She called him in, gave him a treat, and headed back to the arena. The game was at 7. The team usually came in about 5. Everyone in the offices had more than likely left for the day; she had a few more things to do when there was a knock at her office door. 

"Come in," she called to the knocker.

"Wow, nice digs," the knocker said with a low and slow whistle. 

Juliette's head snapped up. She had expected it to be a co-worker that was running behind or family. Her brother or mother would sometimes stop by, but she was not expecting him, "Ian...what are you doing here"? 

"Though I'd finally venture up to the offices. Poke around, see what it was like having an office job", he said, waltzing into the office looking around. His eyes settled on the wall of pictures and headlines. The wall was full of pictures of her brothers and father on the ice. It captured each of their timelines, from training to playing to winning championships at all different ages. A particular photo caught Ian's eye, and Juliette got up from her desk to join him. He looked fantastic in a suit more casual than the other night but still just as perfect. It was a solid black suit with a black button-down. He had the first few buttons undone. Juliette was standing next to him when he laughed to himself, saying, " Is this .. Henry?!" 

"Yea, it is. He was like 8 or 9. Mom loves that photo; he hates it", she said with a snicker. The photo was of Henry in full hockey gear. He was standing on the ice for the first game of the season when he slipped and fell. The camera had caught it just right, and all his limbs were up in the air, and his face read of terror and surprise, not know what had just happened.  

"I have to have the team come see this. Look at his bowl hair cut, "He cackled. 

" Don't you dare! He will kill me if he knows anyone from the team has seen it", she said hastily while grabbing his arm to stress the importance and implore him not to tell. 

He felt the electricity of her touch shoot through him. He was no longer focused on the photo but her. The way she smiled and was almost begging him not to spill her secret. He paused and looked at her hand on his arm. She realized what she had done with the casual touch, she could feel his muscle move, and she was immediately turned on and pulsed for him. When she tried to retract her hand, Ian grabbed it, placing a kiss on the top, and looked at her with seductive eyes while asking, "Are you begging me, Juliette?"

Juliette felt the innuendo to her core, and her stomach filled with butterflies. But she was no rose petal. She wanted him and wasn't going to melt for him like all the other women he was used to. She moved just a few inches closer and looked at him with a devilish smile, and asked, "Do you want me to?" Something inside Ian snapped. He couldn't hold himself back any longer. The look in her eyes mixed with her smile and words had him going practically feral. He gave the hand he was holding a tug, and she stumbled into his chest, her other hand landing in between them as she attempted to catch herself. Ian's other hand wrapped around her waist. He dropped her hand and slid his into her hair at the nape of her neck. He paused for a moment, making sure he still saw the same look in her eyes. He was thrilled to see it there but even more intense. He pulled her in and kissed her. 

The kiss was passionate, hard, and needy. Ian pulled ever so slightly on Juliettes hair, causing her to moan softly into his mouth, giving his tongue access to explore. He deepened the kiss, fingers digging into her side, causing more soft moans to escape her. He pulled back ever so slightly to give her air, but Juliette chased him, making him growl and start to grow hard. Juliette's heart was pounding her panties were becoming very wet. She wanted more. They both craved to feel each other skin to skin. When they both broke because they needed air, Juliette saw a softness in Ian's eyes. His thumb stroked her cheek for a split second while he started to ask her out on a date to dinner in a few nights when she cut him off, smirking, "I guess you should be going wouldn't want coach to see you be late to practice." Then with a quick kiss, smirk, and a hoard of giggles, she pushed Ian out of her office and locked the door behind her. Ian was still in shock as he walked from the office to the locker room, both from the kiss and that she had pushed him out without saying anything else. She had a fire and spirit he had certainly never seen before. Juliette slunk down into the couch in her office. She couldn't believe she had just done that. He was incredibly sexy, and she was very turned on. She could feel the blush creep into her cheeks. She knew she wanted him in more than a casual fling way. That's why she was going to play hard to get. Make Ian chase a little bit for once in his life.  

[demonictales]

I have a oneshot idea with Run yu. How about: when Run yu was a child, he met this demon child, reader (maybe a dog or wolf demon) who is a wild child and a prankster, and they became good friends for a while, until the empress took him away from his home. When Run yu grew up, he meets reader again who is a demon lord/lady now. Reader is a charmer and like to cause trouble to the empress. Reader is a troublemaker but always been honest to Run yu even in his hardest time.

that’s such a cute idea, i love it! here we go. let me know if you liked it. 

TW: DROWNING

As a kid, you had it pretty easy. You were an illegitimate child of the demon king and could do whatever you wanted. So naturally you'd steal out of the demon realm and sneak around the heavenly realm and often could be found around Dongtin lake. You'd snuck around it it ever so often, not in your human form but in your small little wolf form. Where most would expect a black wolf with dark eyes, your fur was the brightes white someone had ever seen, it could rival the snow, your eyes were a dark purple, matching your little horns. A monster some would say, but your attitude would come of as adorable next to mischievious.

You met Runyu for the first time when you fell into the lake, of course you were running to fast chasing a stupid bird as you realized you landed in the lake barely able to keep your head over the surface when you felt someone pushing you up. That someone must've heard your desperate yelps. Admittingly, you were a terrible swimmer. Only then when you had ground underneath your feet and looked back into the water you spotted a face and turned back into your human form. A small grin spread on your face as you waved to the boy underneath the surface.

Your father only knew you for causing trouble whereever you went and today was no different, just had just shown someone your true form. The little wolf demon that you were turned into the bastard princess/prince of the demon realm right in front of someone from the heavenly realm. Of course whereever you followed, trouble was near.

The second time you met him, you were in your human form, black robes with white and pruple ornaments were drabbed over your tiny figure, looking much more presentable than last time. You sat on the shore and threw some stones into the lake, hoping that the boy you saw would show up again. After all, you still owed him a thank you for day that he had saved you from drowning. As a wolf it was in your nature to support people who had done something good for you, even now in your younger years. It was the loyalty of a wolf that made you friends in the end. Quickly, your thoughts ended when you saw a movement in the water and became curious. It was him. The little fish that had saved you, but he didn't seem happy.

"Please don't throw stones into the lake. You could hurt someone." His voice was calm but soft as he spoke, but you just stared at him. " I'm sorry. " You admitted a bit meekly, you never apologize, at least only when you were forced to. " But actually it's not my fault. You didn't tell me your name last time. How else was I supposed to find you. ----- " The said apology was still worth nothing. " I am Y/N. I'm from the demon realm. " Before he could ask, you already gave him the answer. " Do you want to play with me? --- "

That day was the day you both became friends for eternity so it seeemed. Nearly everyday for the next 200 years you would sneak into the heavenly real to meet Runyu. You'd play hide and seek around the lake, you taught him how to play fetch and how you could jump as high as you wanted without much effort and he eventually taught you how to swim. Even though you had 200 years together, one day when you came to the heavenly realm, you noticed something was off. There was a strange woman at the lake talking to your friend as you did hide behind some shilf bushes and she took Runyu with her. The next few days you always patiently waited for Runyu to appear but he never did, so you eventually went your own way as a lone wolf again, roaming the heavenly realm quietly and without a friend by your side.

Another 5000 years should have passed for you to meet Runyu again. This time you had to snuck into the heavenly realm again for spying purposes, forced by King Gucheng to do so. He saw no big purpose for you so in case something would be off, you could lose your head. He wouldn't mind. You on the other hand enjoyed drama, chaos and mischief. Not that you enjoyed the bad side of it. You'd never get blood on your hands, but the demon realm knew of your bravery and slight concerning love for daredevil actions, so of course you offered and they'd send you willingly. Of course it couldn't go unnoticed that someone had snuck into the heavenly realm on the empress birthday.

Of course you glamoured yourself, a small broquet doing the trick. Your hair long and openly falling over your back in a black waterfall, your attire s colors were swapped, the fabric purple with black and white ornaments as you seated yourself with the lower class deitys, spotting a very familiar face in the crowd. It was Yanyou.

You had met him several years ago after you roamed the mortal realm. Both of you enjoyed the same things and became friends, you were surprised to see him here and luckily he had not noticed you yet. However, you noticed another glamour spell in the room, right next to him. It wasn't particularly strong but not easy to decipher as well. Natrually you saw a chance for mischief, causing distraction could buy you some time and less eyes on you. Only when everything went quiet your eyes darted to the entrance where the Heavenly Emperor and the Heavenly Empress entered, your purple colored eyes landed on someone beside the emperor. He looked oddly familiar but you could not place a name to his face. He walked so lightly and gracefully as no one you had ever seen before. Quietly from your seat you watched him curiously.

The feast went on smoothly, yet you got bored quite easily as you finally decided to let action break loose. You let a small mouse ran loose and enjoyed the chaos that emerged from your spot, a mischievous smile hard to suppress. The scene unfolded itself, the person who had a galmour spell over her was indeed a young woman of the flower realm. Impressive you thought, but the fact that the empress seemed bothered and angry after hearing these things was enough for you to move on, sneaking out of the banquet walking quietly around the palace and ending up in the night immortals wing.

Runyu had left the banquet after Jinmi was exposed and quietly took care of whatever happened, he ordered Yanyou to take her out of heavenly real and back to the flower real for now. As he had excused himself, he wandered off to where he was needed, to let the night fall in on his way, however, he was delayed as she saw you sneaking around his quarters.

" How may I help you? --- " The night immortal spoke up as he eyes you, his voice smooth and calming, no sense of threat detected. You spun arround, caught in the act of breaking in as a smirk formed on your lips. " I believe I got lost wandering around. --- " You lied, simple as that. Runyu chuckled, knowing you did so but seemingly you did not care. It reminded him of a childhood friend of his.

Not quite sure what it was, you decided to reveal yourself. What could possibly go wrong. If anything, you were fast and could flee within the blink of an eye. Revealing yourself by letting your glamour vanish, your robes were back to their usual black color, decorated with white and purple ornaments, a black iron pin with purple stones keeping your hair up. Your identity now revealed to him, the ever so known smirk never leaving your face.

It dawned on him as to who you where and yet there you stood, still not recognizing him. You had quite matured over the years and grown quite well, yet your character seemed to be still the same. Runyu enjoyed the fact you hadn't changed much. "Y/N -- How long has it been? --- " The night immortal asked you, clearly remembering the childhood friend who was always by his side.

Puzzled as you seemed, you were confused that he knew your name. " Do we know each other? " You spoke frankly, wondering why he asked you of your well being when you were caught red handed in the act of breaking into this royals chamber. He chuckled stepping closer to you as he bowed. " I believe we had spent many years together at the Dongting lake before I was brought to the heavenly palace."

It took you a moment to pin one and one together but eventually your features gave you away, eyes big as you did not dare believe it. "Runyu..?!" It came more out as a question, but the more you thought about it, the more you looked at him, it was him. He was your childhood best friend. A very honest smile formed on your features. He returned the soft smile, nodding. " I can't believe it. Out of every place I snuck in I met you at the heavenly palace.. ----- It has been so long. " The words left your mouth, remembering the days you spent alone without him by your side.

"I have waited for you so many days at the lake for you to come back, but you never came. ----- I was so lonely. " Even though you were grown up, you were still whining, pulling on his sleeve. " You could have at least tell me good bye. It was the empress that took you away from me, wasn't she. " You huffed angrily as you crossed your arms. " She deserved that chaos at her banquett today. That's for taking my only great companion away from me leaving me to wander alone all these years. " Oh, how great it was to be with your friend again. " So it was you that stirred up the chaos at the hall earlier today. " Runyu concluded, not really surprised at your words, even now.

Taking a few steps back you grinned, scratching the back of your neck. " Maybe..---- "

"But I had my reasons. " You continued. " Did I get you in trouble though? If you did, I'm willing to take the punishment. After all I'm your loyal everlasting friend. " Words that you once told him when you were a child, that you'd be friends forever and that your loyalty would never go away until the day you died and you did it today as well, a grown up woman who would now occasionally meet up with him at the dongting lake, the flower real or easily would snuck into heavenly real again at night to meet him.

Finally you had your friend back and would no longer have to wander the world alone.

[crystal-moon-101]

Sentient Omega AU - Relationships

Since people seem to be liking my Sentient Omega AU, I thought I’d give you an insight of her relationships towards other characters other than Rex and Alpha, as I thought it would be interesting and give a feel what she would be like in the series. Thought before I go into it, I should note something to clear things up. I like to think that on the day of the nanite event, much like Rex, Omega also kind of gets amnesia. However, she remembers a little bit more than Rex does, things like knowing that they’re friends, that he does have family, that they use to be in a lab somewhere with other scientist, but she doesn’t know the finer details unfortunately. This still keeps the mystery of who Rex is and what happened during the nanite event. Also, during the series whenever they can across something from their past, Omega does actually get flashes of the past, only bits and pieces though, rebuilding her memories like a puzzle over the course of the series everytime they run into something familiar. E.g Rylander or the Hong Kong Gang.  Normally she would tell the others what she learnt, but there would be times where she keeps it to herself for sometimes, either because she wants more details in case she makes a miscall, or she fears it might harm the present, like Rex’s relationship with Caesar. But anyway, into the relationships! If you want to see another character dynamic with her and someone I didn’t mention, feel free to request that!  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rylander: Omega has a lot of respect to the man, and even refers to him as father, mostly because he was the one leading the project of her creation, unlike Caesar who originally lead the Alpha project. His wise and kind personality helped teach her to understand the idea of what ‘gentle hands’ meant, especially early on in her life when she was getting use to being something alive. Much like Rex, he treated her differently than just another project, and even saw she was something more through the way she looked after Rex. When they meet again, you can imagine it was somewhat emotional for Omega, even if she couldn’t quite convey it. It was hard for her to see how broken Rylander seemed to become, always worried, on edge and failing to tell Rex or her anything, even if he was happy to see the two was ok. It hurt to see him ‘die’ after what happened to him and Van Kleiss, but she wasn’t one to dwell, instead taking on the things he taught her to keep going. When they meet again in season three, after he’s brought back, there’s a strange connection between them for a while given his new form was technology base, but they eventually get use to it.  Caesar Salazar: Their relationship is...quite complicated. Omega finds him to be a fascinating human being, being different from the people she’s known. But that detail about him can be hit or miss half the time, as while he’s intelligent, can do amazing things and is quite funny, he’s also distance, eerie and impulsive, often known to endanger people without realizing it until it’s too late. Many times she had to stop an emergency in his lab back before the nanite event, like if he almost set his lab on fire or something. She didn’t think much of it at first...until she started bonding with Rex. She doesn’t think Caesar is bad, but doesn’t excuse the danger he makes when not thinking of the consequences. It doesn’t help that he’s not easily sociable, and was known to neglect his brother because of his work. Omega does understand he can’t help some of his habits, but also knows he could be a lot better if he tried hard enough.  When they finally meet again in season 2, she is happy to see him, but returning memories reminded her of his negative traits, many which seemed to have stayed, and even gotten a little worse. It doesn’t help that Rex is dying to connect with his brother, which isn’t easy, and...she starts to remember that he and their parents were the ones to start the nanite event, something Omega doesn’t tell Rex until Van Kleiss admits to this. It isn’t until season 3 where things get pretty bad between them, as while she is unsure if Caesar is working with Black Knight because he’s turned evil or because of something else he has in mind, she can’t excuse the danger he’s doing and how he’s hurt Rex. She’s very much not afraid to speak her mind whenever Caesar does things she disproves of. Perhaps in someways, his ties to Alpha’s creation is a hidden reasons for her unsure nature with him too... Doctor Holiday: Omega and her have one of most civil relationships, as they both respect each other for what they’re trying to do, their motherly outlooks over Rex being something they bond over. It was somewhat surpising, as Rex thought Omega’s overprotective nature would get the better of her with Holiday, but Omega understands that while she may view Rex as her child, he does need an actual human to take on a proper motherly role, and has openingly voiced this to Holiday before.  While she doesn’t outright let Holiday experiment on her like a guinea pig, she does allow tests or research moments to help Holiday better understands Omega, nanites and Rex. The two have had debates about EVOs, has Omega has stated that in concept the idea of EVOs isn’t an entirely bad thing, thinking if they were more like Rex and his nanites, it could provide a great set in humans and connect both technology and people. Holiday does disagree with this, but the two are calm about these debates, Holiday very much understanding that Omega isn’t human, and does see things differently.  Agent Six: Despite Six’s moments, Omega has a lot of faith in the man actually, knowing very well he will take care of Rex. She had been unsure at first the moment Rex and Six first met, especially after what White Knight tried to pull, but after Six risked so much to keep Rex alive, something in Omega just knew she found a safe place for her boy, and someone able to provide so much more for Rex. Personally, the two don’t interact often, but when they do they have this aura of respect, but slight wariness of each other. However, some of that faith cracks a bit when his memories vanish, and he changes. She gets nerves that he will never be the man that protected Rex the way he did before, but Rex’s hope and Six’s wanting to be like his original self does restore some faith in Omega. She does keep an eye on him for a while though. Noah Nixon: She didn’t think much of him at first, believing him just to be a nice human who was willing to be Rex’s friend, which was good enough for her. However, after it was revealed that Noah was working for White Knight, it takes a good while for Omega to trust him again, even after Rex forgives him. She knows how much hard deal Rex has gone through in terms of his friendships and families, and it pains her everytime they get ruined by something. She does get over what Noah did eventually, but does make it clear to him he has a lot to make up for. But once they’re on better terms, she does tease him here and there. White Knight: Omega really doesn’t like White Knight for a good while. He’s nearly killed and hurt Rex many times, treats Rex quite awful, and the two clearly don’t trust each other, given she is a nanite part of what’s going on. Though, while the two might push each other’s buttons some time to time, they try and remind civil around each other...mostly because they know what the other can offer if they stay on their good sides. Omega knows it’s good for Rex, as this is his home and they need Providence’s help, and White knows that Omega is something valuable and could be a key to many answers. That doesn’t stop the occasional snarks or remarks thrown at each other.  But as Rex and White start to pack things over time, Omega does eventually grow to respect the man. By the time of season three, she really sees how much White has changed and grown, especially during the Alpha fight where he backed up Rex and Ben.  Van Kleiss: Much like Caesar, the two have a...complicated relationship. She knows that, in the past, while Van Kleiss wasn’t much of a socializing person, he wasn’t all that bad. He came off as off putting to others, but people were quite harsh on him, giving him a negative view on humanity. So when he turned out the way he did after the nanite event, latching onto the idea of EVOs and power because of how people treated him before, she can’t say that she’s surprised, and even pities him. She knows he could have been better, someone good, but things didn’t turn out that way. However, that does not mean she excuses all the cruel things he does, and will always be vocal about what he’s become. She does admit that, like him, she sees the ideas of EVOs being the next step in humanity, but both of them want to do it in other ways. Whenever they get the chance to talk to each other, it’s often them debating each other, mostly the future of Rex, EVOs and nanites, Van Kleiss even noting that once they figure out how to either destroy, remove or shut off nanites, the humans are mostly likely gonna do the same to her (Which she does admit deep down...does scare her, especially if it means Rex doesn’t need her anymore...). But she does often mention to him that just because the world was cruel to him, doesn’t mean he gets to be cruel back. Throughout each of the seasons, they dynamic will always be complicated.  Bobo Haha: Omega really wasn’t sure on how to feel about Bobo at the start, but had to get use to him when Rex started hanging out with him. She does get annoyed when he convince Rex to do something dumb or dangerous, and often tries to be the reasonable voice out of the three, but she does have a slight playful side that Bobo has a way of getting to show. Plus, she can’t lie that it’s nice to see Rex unwind and just...get to be a wild teen. Black Knight: A very frustrating relationship for her with this one. Because Black Knight is somewhat and EVO like Rex, she’s has this desire to be better than him, in terms of what they are. She wants the stronger powers, the better control over nanites, to be the EVO the world talks about. However, there’s a big problem there, in that while she has the potential to be better than Rex, she can’t for some reason. There is a reason she only showed her true powers once near the end, and that is because she can’t do them for long, and lack many of the powers Rex has. The most she can do is summon her powerful weapons, but they don’t last long. That’s when Omega comes into the picture, as Black Knight is convinced she is the missing piece needed to be better than Rex, the main difference between the to and why Black Knight can’t do what he does. Because of this, Black Knight is very open about the idea of taking Omega, often trying smooth talk and sometimes even bride or softly threaten Omega into joining her. She almost always uses her sickly sweet voice when talking to Omega, as if they were good old friends. However, Omega wants none of that and always rejects Black Knight, stating many times she doesn’t like her, doesn’t trust her, and knows she’s planning something bad. That doesn’t stop Black Knight though, who has made it clear that she will resort to darker means if things don’t go her way.  Ben Tennyson: Omega really didn’t have good opinions on the boy when he first showed up, fighting Rex, wreaking buildings and putting Six endanger. The way he behaved and acted, with so much power, it made her think he was nothing like a prideful childish teen who didn’t understand consequences.  But then he started helping, standing by Rex when it was clear of the dangers happening, what Alpha was doing. The fact Ben was willing to help a world that wasn’t his own, Omega had to admit it was noble of him. At the time Alpha’s presence was making her stressed, so she was glad that Ben was there to support both her and Rex during this troubling issue. She was most grateful for when he helped Rex when she was taken, going Upgrade to provide Rex the needed power he lost when Alpha took her. And since Ben helped the two reunite, she will forever be thankful for his help. Still, she does think he needs to calm himself of the cocky attitude, but she knows it’s not her place to speak. 

[freddyjoncs]

𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙻𝚂𝚅𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙴 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟻.

t a g g i n g : fred jones sr, judy reeves, brad chiles.

t i m e f r a m e : summer 1995

l o c a t i o n :  coolsville

n o t e s : zulema said it’s finally time to expand the coolsville cinematic universe. for more insight to the foolery read freddy’s self-discovery para. 

when the town of coolsville comes to mind you don’t think of the white picket fences, family barbecues in the summertime heat or pleasantville USA. No, you think of the deaths, the monsters, the mysteries that run deep within the town. for years, mayor jones has tried his best to bury the past. He wanted to present this squeaky clean image. a town you could raise a family in, after all, his family was the mold. perfect mayor & father and perfect son. 

and if he couldn’t do that, he would just bank on how marketable the town was.

not everyone could keep up with the joneses after all.

judy reeves knew that all too well. her curiosity is what ultimately lead to her demise. had she only stopped digging perhaps she could’ve had the white picket fence dream her boyfriend always dreamed for them and their son.

being a coolsville native, judy always knew there was something off about the town. bad things always happened to coolsville inhabitants. the neighbouring city of hallow falls seemed to have the same luck, not as bad, she thought. sure, they had the myth of the sanderson sisters but at least people didn’t die every couple of years in their town. coolsville didn’t have that luck. she could tell you the stories of each killer by heart. she had memorized them, found an interest in it like every teen had.  

captain cutler, miner-forty-niner, creeper, fireball mcphan, ben ravencroft, jonathan jacobo, lena dupree and most recently tommy lomis. all infamous for the crimes they had committed against the town. all now stories told to scare children. but judy knew there was more to it. these weren’t stories or just random happenings. it was a curse.

coolsville was cursed.

over the years the stories no longer struck fear into the hearts of the people of coolsville. the last spree had happened in 1978 at the now demolished camp Grimwood. The Jones family had seen to it that the camp would be gone in hopes for the town to move on. They had healed now. it felt right to go back to a life or normalcy. it’s what brad had wanted for them - especially when their son robbie came along.

judy reeves and brad chiles, high school sweethearts turned young parents had always been stuck to each other’s side through thick and thin. Judy a bright girl with an extraordinary future before her. at least, that’s what everyone said. valedictorian,  prom queen, top of her class and just over all a wonderful girl. everyone believed she was going places until she found herself shacked up with brad chiles, the boy from the other side of the tracks who was nothing but trouble. they all said the moment they met her life was over. when she got pregnant her senior year of high school everyone believed it to be true. another waste of a perfectly good future. it’s why the elite of coolsville stayed on their side. 

but Judy had never been like them. she wasn’t a classist asshole like her parents. Brad wasn’t some fun little side project either. she genuinely loved him and their son who game into the world on graduation. she didn’t need fancy titles, nice cars or riches to make her happy in life. the family she had created with brad was enough. life was perfect in her eyes

that is until her brother murdered innocent people. 

it was a late summer in june. Brad’s brother, Jacob, who worked at the local mall was on a closing shift. He was supposed to return home just like he always did but instead they received a call from sheriff stone. Jacob was dead. Not only that he had murdered five people at the mall including his best friend, Alice May. The only way to stop him was a shot through the head.

Judy couldn’t believe it. She refused to believe it. Brad’s brother would never do such a thing. Jacob was a good kid he wasn’t capable of murder. there was only one reason as to why he would behave in such a way.

the curse.

it had to be the curse. Judy was so sure of it. There was no way Jacob could ever do such a thing. 

“There has to be some knowledge about it.” Judy said as she looked through books in the local library. 

“babe, it’s late. we’ve been at this for hours. we’ve found nothing.” which is exactly what brad expected. he didn’t have the heart to tell his girlfriend to stop. nor did he have the heart to tell her that trying to place a curse on his brother’s actions didn’t help the grieving process. 

“brad, I know there has to be something here. everyone chants about that damn curse and spit it in your face. they write it on the walls, for christ sa-” a hand fell on judy’s hand during her tangent.

“our son is at home.” was all brad said and judy stopped to look at him with sad eyes. as much as her stubbornness wanted to keep pushing for answers Judy knew that Robbie was waiting for them at home. Another day, she thought. another day she’d try it again. for now, she would go home and take care of her son.

.....

as much as brad wanted judy to stop her wild goose chase he knew she would never stop. by the end of june he had enough of it. they fought more about her trying to break this silly curse than anything else. he had made peace with what happened with his brother why couldn’t judy just leave it the fuck alone? 

“there is no curse judy!” he yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Yes there is, brad! Why do you think bad things keep happening to this town? consistent murders don’t just happen like they do here.”

“people are monsters. what do you expect? it can’t all be sunshine and rainbows. I know the north side taught you that it was.” there was a silence that fell over them.

“I didn’t mean-” fuck, but he did, didn’t he? he resented judy at times because she came from privilege because she lived in the land of white picket fences and green lawns and he came from the side of the town where your brothers killed innocent people. 

“I know that I had it much easier than you. You don’t have to throw that in my face. but why can’t you just believe me? The stories-”

“they’re just ghost stories, judy.” 

she turned away from him, not wanting brad to see the tears welling up in her eyes.

“but they’re not.”

.....

it turns out her relentless searching wasn’t for nothing. on her journey for the truth she discovered two of her classmates, Cassidy Williams and Ricky Owens, were believers of the curse as well. in fact, they had a uncovered more clues than judy had alone.

the curse, was believed to be brought upon by annabeth fier. a witch from hallow falls. it was said she cursed the town for hanging her and every so years she came and exacted her revenge on coolsville for what they had done to her. 

for the first time it made sense. a town full of mysteries and this had to be the biggest one of all. Ricky and Cassidy held the biggest clue of all - an occult book with information on the curse and a path to the witches mark. it felt like a long shot and maybe it was but it was also the closest judy had gotten to the truth. she couldn’t give up now that she was close. the truth was being dangled before her. if she could prove that the curse was real maybe she could also break it as well. 

although things were tense between her and brad he had promised to accompany her on the journey. not without a price of course. if this turned out to be a hoax, as he believed it to be, he made judy promise him this is the last that she’d ever bring up the curse. it was the deal judy had agreed to. she would do just about anything to bring back some normalcy between her and brad again. she knew he was mostly going for his own peace of mind since he didn’t trust the stranger leading judy on her wild goose chase.

the four of them were going to uncover the truth of coolsville.

......

The witches mark was located until the coolsville mall which is where the grimwood camp massacre took place. the mall was reopened now that a month had passed after the murder. judy could tell brad was tense sitting the the driveway. the pain would never go away, the wound was still too fresh. there was a wave of guilt that washed over judy as she stared at the building before her. 

Cassidy’s uncle worked as a janitor for the mall so they had access to the place after dark. the only way to get under was to get in. after strategic planning the four made their way into the building once closed. From the looks of the map the closest entrance was a grate near the emergency exit. it was a tight squeeze but the four of them managed to get in.

it was dark and cold. the underlying tunnels under the mall were cave like. the further they ventured the more the air in the channels seemed to shift. there was buzzing in the distance of what seemed like flies and a pounding? why was there pounding in caves. It sounded like a heart, beating rhythmically in time to theirs. it seemed to grow louder, faster the four swore the ground beneath them was vibrating. as they continued the once barren cave was now grown with red moss, littering every inch of the walls around them and soon they found themselves at the heart of it all.

etched out before them was the same symbol in the book cassidy was holding. the witches mark. The four of them stared at it in awe until ricky’s voice broke the silence. “Yo, guys y’all might wanna see this.” the trio turned to see giant slabs of stone before them with writing present on each one. judy got closer to see what was written before her.

 captain cutler, miner-forty-niner, creeper, fireball mcphan, ben ravencroft, jonathan jacobo, lena dupree, tommy lomis and jacob chiles.

all the names of the coolsville killers.

“Every single person written here went on a killing spree.” Ricky said softly as he began to reach out to touch the stone but was abruptly stopped by brad.

“So what does that mean someone’s playing god and forcing people to do this shit?” brad spat, his eyes staring intently at his brother’s name.

“Close.”

a voice called from the distance. 

“I wouldn’t call it god.” from the shadows of the tunnel appeared Fred Jones, the mayor’s son. coolsville’s golden boy in every single way. The Jones family was one of if not the wealthiest family in town with immense power in their hands. the way he was staring at the four of them left judy’s stomach uneasy.

“how do you know about this place?” she asked, pretending to not hear the latter part of his statement.

“better question, why are you and how did you get that?” he said, nodding towards the book that cassidy was now holding close to her chest.

“Don’t make me ask you again or else-” judy started but was promptly cut off. “Or else what? you’re going to cry curse again? my god, Judy, you’ve turned into the town nut. who’s going to listen to a word you say? after you’ve lost your status shacking up with that southside trash no one is going to care what you think. I mean, if you dump him maybe they would but with that brat of yours....” and as if on cue another figure emerged from the shadows carrying a sleeping robbie in their arms. “no one will ever believe you again.”

At the sight of their child, Brad began to lunge towards Fred but was halted by a raised finger and a a string of tsks. “You wouldn’t want to wake the baby now would you?”

“What do you want, Fred?” Judy croaked out, her hand placed on Brad’s arm as she tried to keep her boyfriend at bay. she was barely keeping her own composure.

“I want the book. It belong to my family. I also want your compliance. The four of you know too much. I can’t have you silly little wannabe sleuths exposing the truth. So i want you gone. All of you are to leave coolsville before sunrise. that is, if you’d like to live of course. Give me any problems or tell a soul about any of this and i’ll make sure brad’s name is right under his brothers.” he paused to look brad dead in the eyes who was now looking as pale as a ghost. “you’ll only remember bits and pieces of killing them, Bradley but I know you’ll remember the sound of their screams and their blood on your hands.” the wicked grin on fred’s face struck fear into the very core of all four of them. 

“and to make sure no funny business occurs. i’m keeping him. for collateral.” Fred added as baby robbie was placed into his arms. and at that the four of them were being escorted out of the cave by fred’s goons. judy doesn’t remember much. the entire situation was a haze of emotions. the next thing she remembered was driving away in brad’s van, an unsettling silence hanging over them as tears streamed down her face. the sunset before them was a sign that day was here once again. how could she begin to think of a new day when her entire world had been shattered in an entire night?

she should have listened to brad and stopped searching for answers in ghost stories. 

that’s all they weren’t after all.

stories.

......

looking down at the child in his arms fred’s brows furrowed as his index finger caressed the smooth cheek of the child. It caused the baby to stir but never waking up. Fred almost found it endearing. almost. There was no time for attachments. There was a prophecy to be continued. the baby in his arms was the key for their success. 

“Dad always said I needed an heir. you’ll be just perfect won’t you, freddy?”

......

freddy looked down at the book in front of him. when he searched his father's belongings he had found the book hidden next to his files. after the monsters had attacked freddy looked to the book for answers. he was going to show the gang but with all that was going on how could he bring up coolsville mysteries when they were fighting for their lives? he knew how to read a room.

so now here he was alone in his room looking at the book. he hadn’t dare open it since he brought it back. what laid within it scared freddy more than anything but if he was going to get answers about his father he needed to start here.

why else would his father have this if it wasn’t important?

so he opened it only to find that the curse was true. the one he had heard stories of that his father said was nothing but bullshit. just like his pretend mysteries. 

the only way to break the curse was to unite hand with body. 

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Riddler part 2

Master List

Warnings:Sorry if the Spanish is wrong, I used goggle for all of it. Talks of domestic violence and family drama.

WC: 1360

Enjoy x

You were used to working over a weekend, it was nothing new. Rafael managed to get a warrant early Saturday morning. He brought it to you and Amanda and you both found that your prep worked the nights at all the bar’s all the victims were at the night they were all attacked. The pills Sonny found in his pocket matched all the blood tests of all the victims and the pills from the drink. You and Amanda made the arrest and he was being proceeded and arraigned that afternoon.

“I want you both in my office tomorrow” you were all standing outside court after the bartender had been remanded pending trial starting Monday.

“Really Barba, on a Sunday?” you complained.

“Yes, maybe if you staid home last night you would have a day off tomorrow” he gave you a smug look.

“A rapist would still be on the streets Barba if it wasn’t for us” you snapped back.

“My office tomorrow morning, 10 am”

You really didn’t mind, you had nothing better to do. You, Sonny and Amanda usually ended up at some sports bar drinking cheap beer and too many slices of pizza if you guys weren’t working or with your cousins doing the same thing.

You woke up early and got ready for the day. You knew it was going to be a long one, so you decided to dress comfortable. You put a pair of black ¾ tights and a mustard slightly over size top with a pair of white converse runners, your hair in a high pony tail.

One of the best coffee shops in Manhattan was on the way, so you stopped and picked up yours and Amanda’s favourite and something for Rafael. Just as you ordered your phone rang, it was Amanda,

“Hey I’ am just getting coffee, are you there yet?”

“I’ am not coming”

“What, why?”

“My sister turned up last night, I told Barba”

“Fine” you huffed.

“Enjoy my coffee, I’ll see you tomorrow” and she hung up.

You made the short walk to Rafael’s office and walked in and tapped on the door, Rafael was behind his desk in a grey button down and black dress pants.

“You’re late”

“By 10 minutes, I was waiting for the coffee. Didn’t know I had to dress up for you Barba, must have missed that memo.” You laughed.

He looked up at you with a small tight smile, “Is there ever a time you’re not a smart ass or have a comeback?”

“I could ask you the same thing” you said back, he looked at you far from impressed

“Sorry Barba” you sat down at the chair in front of his desk, “I grew up with 12 boys, and I had to hold my own growing up. If I didn’t they would have walked all over me. It’s just part of my nature now I guess. They are all amazing now, but you know, the only girl in the middle of all these boys” you rolled your eyes

“Makes sense” he answered back “But anyway we aren’t here to get to know each other, you need to be ready for tomorrow”

“Are you sure Barba? How could you not want to get to know little old me” you giggled back at his frowning face.

--

The day was long and intense, you guys hadn’t had a break all day. It was starting to get dark outside when you threw your paper work onto the table and it slid straight off scattering all over the floor. You stood up and bent down to pick it all up. Rafael looked up and seen your ass up in the air. He moved himself slightly so he could get a good view when he felt all blood rush between his legs.

“Let’s order something to eat” he pulled himself away from looking at you before he got too carried away with himself.

“I have a better idea” you stood up fixing your paper work on the desk “Grab your coat Counselor”

You guys started to walk down the white steps onto the street, “Where are we going?”

“Trust me” you smiled back at him. You walked two blocks, him following. You guys made some small talk along the way.

Next thing you turned down a side street which was covered in fairy lights and sugar skull painting all over the walls. Spanish music was playing loud and you guys walked through the door to find a table.

“What is this place?” he asked you looking around in awe.

“Tres Calaveras (3 Skulls). Amanda and I found it one night. They have the best margaritas you will ever taste”

“Hablas Espanol?” (You Speak Spanish?)

“Si (Yes). My uncle married a Mexican lady, mi Tia (My Aunty), she used to look after us when we were little while the rest of the parents worked. She taught us” you smiled at him.

“Tengo Hambre” (I’ am Hungry)

“Yo tambien (Me Too), but I’ am pretty sure you can order for yourself Counselor, I know your Cuban”

“How did you know that?”

“Liv told me. I asked her when you pronounced a name one day in court. A Latin name”

You guys put in your order in Spanish and waited for the food and drinks to come.

“So 12 boys. Must have been full on”

“Yeah it was, salvaje (wild). I was the only child to my parents. My Dad has two brothers and a sister, and they all had 4 boys each. We were all born just years apart, I’ am number 6, so smack bang in the middle.”

“Wow”

“How about you?” you smiled at him.

“I ‘am an only child. I was brought up by my Mum and Abuela. My Dad” he looked down and balled his hands in to fists. You saw his reaction and put your hand over his fist and squeezed it. He looked up into your eyes and seen kindness. You gifted him another small smile.

“My Aunty got out of her marriage. 20 years she put up with it, no one had a clue. I think the last straw was when the baby of all of us didn’t get accepted to college after we all had. Somehow it was her fault like everything was. I was out with him trying to help him forget it when we came back and I opened the door and seen my Aunty was badly hurt, I called the police on him. She hide it so well and always told the boys not to say anything. After that she finally left and they moved in with us. She is remarried now and couldn’t be happier. Of course she still has the scares physically and mentally. But we all have a story right” you smiled wide at him.

Dinner and the drinks came and you guys continued to talk.

“So is there a Mrs Barba?” Rafael almost chocked on his food. “Sorry too forward” you laughed.

“Ah no. No to not being forward and no to a Mrs Barba” you weren’t sure if it was the margarita talking or what but looked at him,

“How can someone as good looking as you be single” he laughed out loud. “Honestly you’re a catch” you took another sip of your drink preparing for his comeback.

“Are you single?” he asked back.

“Very much so”

“Well I could say the same to you. How can someone as beautiful as you be single?”

“Have you heard my mouth Rafael? Not many people like that about me, not someone I could take home to my Mum so I have been told. But I’ am not going to change myself just for some Chico (boy) who doesn’t know how to shut me up in a good way” he burst out laughing and you gave him a big grin.

“You’re not that bad”

“Yeah cause your worse” you pointed your empty fork at him.

“Do you think you will ever meet the one that can ‘shut you up the good way’?”

“I really hope so” you smiled back at him.

Tags: @detective-giggles​ @beccabarba​​ @thatesqcrush​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @dianilaws​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @averyhotchner​ @infiniteoddball​ @ritajammer21​

[bi-writes]

notorious: reboot — chapter seven  butterfly wings

I’m suffocating in here; wait until I grow wings.

type: series, alternate universe detail: mob!tom word count: 9k warnings: mature language and themes series masterlist

The first time Mariposa held a gun, she was thirteen years old. She had found it inside of her father’s desk drawer, and when he found her holding onto it, instead of yelling at her, he taught her how to use it. He didn’t believe in shielding his daughter’s eyes from what he did or from what he knew. New York City was where she was born and raised, and she loved every part of it, but she learned from a young age that its streets weren’t forgiving. And at first, she didn’t use her skills to benefit the y/l/n family.  

No, at first, Mariposa ran on her own. With her father’s gun, she was paid to freelance. She was reckless, wild, and free, and it was how she made enough money to buy herself a Maserati when she turned eighteen. Mariposa was a princess, and she spent her money like it. She was naïve in the beginning, using her money for nothing but gold, diamonds, and leather purses. Mariposa adored the attention. Her father had always been away for work, leaving her with nannies that could never handle her, and her mother had left New York long ago, back to Cuba, for reasons her father wouldn’t give.

Mariposa was alone. For a long time, she only had herself to confide in. It was why she had latched onto you so quickly, and you to her. Mariposa rarely spent time with people her age, and you made her feel validated, alive, wanted. For once, someone was paying attention to her, really paying attention to her, and she loved you for that. She loved you for bringing out something inside of her that had been hidden for so long, just waiting to be found, aching to be found. Mariposa wasn’t a woman that was meant to be alone. She had so much love inside her heart, so much loyalty and strength, and she was so happy to use it all when it came to you. She came out of her shell completely, like a flowering bud that had yet to see the sun, and with you, she had bloomed to perfection.

You both laughed as you fell back onto the bed, littered with bundles of cash. Mariposa grabbed a handful of bills, throwing them up into the air, and you let out infectious giggles as the papers flew into the air, settling all around you, onto the bed, across the floor, tangled in each other’s hair.  

“That was incredible,” Mariposa breathed, rolling over onto her stomach to look at you. You stared up at the ceiling, your eyes sparkling with something hungry, and you grinned triumphantly, a light, airy feeling in your chest.  

“They didn’t even see us coming,” you recalled the few hours before, as you and Mariposa broke into a corporate building on Wall Street. You and Mariposa had just met a few people at a bar downtown, and the drunk boys wanted to show off their daddy’s money. They were long unconscious as you and Mariposa had grabbed bundles full of cash, throwing them into the back of a taxi, giving the driver a nice tip to keep him quiet. This wasn’t the first time you and Mariposa had used your talents to have fun. Ever since you had arrived a year earlier, you and Mariposa were always up to no good, playing with guns and money and each other.  

“They never see us coming,” Mariposa said softly, and you turned your head to look at her, a smile still ghosting your face. You reached up slowly, brushing a few of her curls away from her face, her sweet face almost angelic bathed in moonlight.  

“They never see us coming,” you echoed, and Mariposa leaned down, putting her forehead against yours. You let out a breathless laugh, your hand going into her hair, and she closed her eyes so you wouldn’t see the tears inside of them. Her heartbeat was erratic, pounding against her chest at the feeling of you so close, but she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t say anything. Her breaths were shaky as they left her parted lips, and there was nothing she could do but drink you in, take you in entirely, try and remember this moment forever and always.

Drunk on adrenaline, nothing but moonlight and stars, Mariposa’s heart had grown butterfly wings.

But it didn’t matter. She was too afraid to set it free. She was too afraid to see it fly.

And then you were gone.

Her father tried to send her to school, but Mariposa could never focus, it was always too easy. She excelled in everything she did, and by the time she was sixteen, she got bored of her father’s studious antics. She didn’t want to go to college. She didn’t want to dedicate her life to research or engineering or Wall Street, she wanted to stand in line with her father’s men and do everything they did. There was even a time when she snuck in on a job with them, and that was when her father finally let her into the business completely.  

Her father and a small team were infiltrating a garage in Chinatown. Mariposa had hopped into the back of one of the trucks they brought, hidden between boxes and equipment. Alone, like always, but Mariposa was sure of herself and what she could do.  

The only reason her father didn’t lose his life that night was because of her. His daughter was there, standing over him with her gun in hand, the barrel still smoking as he shoved the person off of him, bleeding from the hole in his head. Mariposa had the papers he needed in her teeth, and she helped him off the ground, handing it to him.  

“Mariposa, ¿y cómo hiciste todo esto?” Her father had been so baffled, taking the papers from her, looking down at it.  

“You guys make too much noise, papá,” she remembered saying, hugging him tightly. She had been afraid, of course she had, but when it came down to it, she would always deliver. That night, she didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, and her father couldn’t be prouder. “It would be so much easier if you just let me do it myself.”

Her father never underestimated her ever again. From that moment forward, his daughter was deeply involved in business, in deals, and insisted she started working with his men, polishing up all the skills she thought she had already mastered. Her father loved her more than anything. If this was her calling, he wouldn’t stop her. He wasn’t about to try, either; Mariposa was fierce, and telling her no would only have fueled the fire inside of her.

“So you were a little troublemaker?” Harrison raised a brow, and Mariposa scoffed, annoyed. She suspected Harrison had only listened to the parts of the story where she fell off the deep end, not being careful as she did job after job, all alone, all by herself for years.  

That’s what happens when you have broken wings. You forget how to use them, and they never heal.

“Stop it,” she said softly. “I just wanted in, Harri, you can understand that, can’t you?”

“I can, love, you know that,” Harrison looked in the mirror as he sprayed a bit of cologne on, watching as Mariposa sat up in bed, holding the sheets up to cover herself. She brushed her curls back, leaning back against the headboard. She was thinking about you a bit, how lost she was when you left in the middle of the night all those years ago. A piece of her had gone with you, but she would never admit it.

“Do we really have to go so soon?” Mariposa asked finally, and Harrison went towards the closet, taking out a navy-blue suit, putting it onto the bed. He reached into one of the drawers for a dress shirt, crisp and white, and he put it on. Mariposa slowly got out of bed, picking up the dress shirt that was thrown onto the floor the night before and put it on, buttoning it just a little. Harrison had his eyes on her almost immediately, not being able to keep them off of her.

“We do, Ri, you know how it is,” he said lowly, clearing his throat. “Tom’s got me on a bit of a leash right now.”

Mariposa got back on the bed, on her knees in front of him, and she helped him button his shirt up as he worked on fastening his cufflinks. He kept glancing at her through his eyelashes, the Cuban beauty never ceasing to dumbfound him. He adored mornings like this, the quiet, cold, early hours spent with her.

“Don’t be late tonight, Harri,” she reminded him, “it’s really important, okay? Y-You can’t be late, I’m serious, h-he hates it when people aren’t on time—”

“Ri,” Harrison interrupted her, chuckling. He leaned forward and kissed the side of her forehead, and she laid her head on his chest. “I know. I’m going to be there. I’ll pick you up at y/n’s place, right?”

Mariposa nodded, “yeah, that’s where I’ll be.”

“Well, come on then, love. Get dressed. I’ll drop you off.”

Mariposa was introducing Harrison to her father tonight. He had been asking for a long time for her to come home, and she kept insisting that she was doing important work for y/n. He asked for just dinner, and Mariposa couldn’t help but accept it, but when she did, she told him to set a place for two. Harrison had watched her talk on the phone in Spanish, oblivious to what she was doing, and when she had asked him to accompany her to dinner, Harrison didn’t hesitate to say yes.  

Mariposa was afraid for her father to meet him, but when she met Harrison’s eyes, there was nothing but relief in her. There was nothing for her to worry about. Harrison made everything alright, he made everything okay, and he would make tonight perfect.

Piece by piece, we put the broken parts back together.

Mariposa got off the bed, going to the closet and getting a pair of jeans and a shirt. She got dressed quickly, looking for her heels, and Harrison came out of the bathroom holding up the shoes for her. They were her favorite pair. Red bottoms, glittering with expensive crystals, and they were from Harrison. She smiled at him and went to retrieve them, and she squeaked as Harrison slid his hand down her backside, one hand going into the back pocket of her jeans and squeezing tightly.

Harrison leaned down and kissed her, holding her as close to him as he could. She dropped the heels onto the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes as she kissed him back, giggles escaping her as he held her impossibly close. The mewls coming from her lips was everything to him, and he wished they could stay like this for hours just to hear her breathe and laugh on repeat, a tune he would never tire of hearing.

“Harrison, I love you,” Mariposa said softly between kisses. Harrison pulled away slowly at that, his brows furrowing a bit. Mariposa’s smile faded a bit, and she opened her eyes, looking up at him.

“What?”

“I…” Mariposa went pale. She pulled away from him abruptly, bending to grab her shoes off the ground. “Nothing.”

No, no, no.

Harrison grabbed her arm before she could move away, and she yanked out of his grip. She didn’t mean to act so childish, but she was mortified inside. She never said those words, not out loud. Mariposa was so afraid of being rejected, she swallowed her words most of the time, keeping them inside even if it tore her apart.

“No, Ri,” Harrison breathed, following her into the bathroom. She looked close to tears, but she was fighting them well. “Ri, did you say you love me?”

“No,” she muttered, sifting through the drawers to try and find a brush. “God, where did I put it?!”

Harrison grabbed her from behind, turning her to face him, “Ri, Ri, baby, stop!”

“What?!” Mariposa breathed weakly. “What? Do you want me to tell you yes? T-That I said I love you, b-but…but you don’t feel the same? What do you want me to say—”

“Darling,” he laughed a bit, “I love you. So fucking much. You just…you just caught me off guard, ‘s all.”

Mariposa looked up at him, letting a few tears fall.

Piece by piece, we build back what we lost.

“God, Harrison, what is wrong with you?” She hit his chest, hard, and he coughed a bit, stepping back. “Your girl says I love you, and you answer with what? You are so—ugh! ¿Por qué eres así, malparido?”

Harrison rubbed his chest a bit, reaching around her and opening another drawer, pulling out her hairbrush. He handed it to her, leaning over and kissing her forehead gently. The gesture was too sweet for her, and she couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

“I’m not an idiot, sweetheart, and you…you just surprised me,” he grinned cheekily, touching her chin. “The most beautiful woman in the world says she loves a bloke like me, what can I say?”

Set it free.

Mariposa sniffled, managing a smile, and she hugged him tightly, closing her eyes as she hid her face in his chest. Harrison wrapped his arms around her, enclosing her in warmth.

“I love you,” she said again, and Harrison rested his chin on top of her head.

“I love you more.”

Watch it fly.

Mariposa closed the door behind her, kicking her heels off. She put her purse down, padding into the kitchen of your apartment, sighing when she saw a fresh pot of coffee on the counter. She poured herself a cup, mixing it with her favorite cream and sugar. She liked her coffee sickly sweet.

When she made her way into the dining room, you were sitting there, in dark jeans and a long sleeve black shirt, your legs crossed to show off the heeled leather boots you were wearing. Your hair was a mess, but she noticed that you had painted your nails again, and all she could think was thank God.

There were papers spread across in front of you on the table and your laptop was open. The coffee mug was half full, and you had a pen and paper in your hands as you scribbled on top of it.  

“Hey,” Mariposa greeted you, and you looked up finally. You raised a brow as you noticed the purpling marks gathered along her neck.

“Hey,” you said back, laughing a bit. “Did you have a good morning?”

Mariposa moved her curls to try and cover them up, but you just smiled. She tried not to think about Harrison’s hands in her jeans inside the back of his car as she sat down beside you.

“What are you doing? This looks a mess,” Mariposa noted, looking at the papers. Spreadsheets and spreadsheets of gibberish to her, but you were focused, it all made sense to you in your head. You tapped the pen on the table absentmindedly.

“These are financial records for Tom’s shell companies,” you explained, pulling out another piece of paper. “I’m jumping some money around. He got a lot of cash in last night, and while I wait for his lackeys to cash the money in at the banks, I’m trying to move them around a bit. He’s on the FBI’s radar already, I don’t want to make it worse.”

“How do you know the FBI is watching?” Mariposa asked, laughing a bit. “There’s no way we have people in there.”

“It’s not rocket science to check the investigation files,” you snickered. “They’re stupid. They put everything on the internet these days.”

“y/n, are you serious?” Mariposa put the cup down. “Oh my God. Since when were you breaking into government agencies? And since when do you do work like this for Tom Holland?”

You laughed a bit, shaking your head, and you reached over to grab another piece of paper. Mariposa reached over and snatched your wrist up, bringing your left hand to her. There, on your ring finger, was Tom’s diamond band. You had never taken it off.

Mariposa’s heart dropped a bit inside of her. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but she was hurt.  

“What…” Mariposa looked at you. “y/n, what…what is this?”

You pulled your hand back slowly, twisting the band around your finger.

“We’re engaged,” you said simply, looking up at her. “I’m…Tom and I are getting married.”

Mariposa put her coffee down, and she scoffed a bit. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. If you were planning on marrying Tom, surely you would’ve told her. Why wouldn’t you tell her?

“When were you planning on telling me that? Huh?” She looked hurt finally, her face falling. “Is this…is this for real?”

“Ri, you’ve been at Harrison’s beck and call for the past week, sorry, I just haven’t had the time to tell you,” you said, a bit bitter. Mariposa frowned.

“y/n, I’m just doing what you said.”

“I said to distract, Harrison,” you snapped. “I said, if it was necessary, to maybe even get laid. I never said for you to spend every waking moment with him.”

“You didn’t say anything—”

“Ri, now you’re the one that’s distracted,” you continued. “You’re…y-you’re constantly at their place in Jersey. You’re rarely in the city anymore, and when you are, it’s to do a job for Tom, and you’re always with Harrison anyway. And so you know what? For the past six fucking months, I’ve been doing everything on my own. So, yeah, I didn’t tell you I was getting engaged to Tom, but it’s not like you were here to notice anyways.”

Mariposa shook her head. She couldn’t really believe what she was hearing. Your voice was so bitter and heavy, and there was something else underneath the hard words. There was something else bothering you.

“W-Where is this coming from?” She asked. “W-Why are you suddenly so mad about it? Are you jealous or something?”

“I’m not jealous,” you scoffed, clenching your jaw. “That’s not it. I’m just pointing out that I think you’ve forgotten what the end goal is here. And I’m just warning you.”

That struck Mariposa hard. She stiffened in front of you. It sounded like a threat to her, and she didn’t like the way your eyes darkened as soon as you said it. There was always a barrier around you, but Mariposa could see right through it. Your words were scaring her, and the way your eyes shifted meant there was truth behind it.  

“Warning me of what?” Mariposa stood up. “What did you do?”

“I’m not going to be married for long, Ri, and I just need you to be ready for that,” you said simply.  

No, no, no.

“y/n, you said when we came here that we were going to…figure out what was going on in Brooklyn. That was it. You didn’t say anything about…about—”

“About what?” You demanded. “What did you think was going to happen, Ri? You thought I was going to come here and play dolls with Tom Holland? You thought I was going to…to let him threaten our family like that, and then get away with it? Are you serious?”

Mariposa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She felt her knees a bit weak. She should’ve known that things were going too well. Things were so good, and they were too good to be true. Mariposa had been falling in love with someone else, and it blinded her to what was unraveling inside of you.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” She breathed. She came closer to you, and you stood up to face her, face-to-face. “What are you planning? What did you do?”

You pursed your lips, “We’re getting married Saturday night,” you said softly. “After my dad comes and sits down with him. They’re going to strike a deal, and then we’re going to get married.”

“And then?”

“And then I’m going to kill him,” you whispered, swallowing. “I’m going to—”

“Shut up,” Mariposa hissed. “Shut your fucking mouth, y/n. Don’t…don’t you dare.”

It felt different, to say it out loud. You didn’t know what you expected when you confessed to Mariposa where everything was going, but the clear, transparent look of betrayal in her face brought everything you were keeping inside up to your throat, scratching to come out. You kept yourself steady; you had a job to do.

I always finish the job.

“I’m going to take him for all he’s worth,” you continued, stepping closer to her. “And then I’m going to put a bullet through his head.”

Your voice was blank, unmoving, calm. That was what scared Mariposa the most, the undeniable composure of your entire being. She knew it was a mask, a terrible mask that she wanted to rip right off of you.

Mariposa’s chin quivered. “And…And Harrison? And Tom’s brothers? W-What about them?”

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know. Daddy hasn’t said—”

“Your dad?” Mariposa stepped back. “y/n, your dad is going to kill them. If Tom is gone, he’ll kill all of them.”

“You don’t know that,” you shook your head, and Mariposa laughed bitterly, because she thought maybe you truly couldn’t hear the words coming out of your mouth.

“Stop acting like a pendeja, y/n. If you kill Tom, your father will unload on all of them—” Mariposa’s voice caught in her throat. “y/n, he’ll kill Tom’s whole family. All of them. A-And…he’ll kill Harrison. Harrison, y/n, he’ll kill—”

“I told you to distract him,” you snapped. “I never said to fucking fall in love with him. That’s on you, Ri.”

Mariposa felt tears in her eyes. It felt like you had slapped her across the face. She didn’t recognize you. The emptiness inside of your eyes, the cruel calmness of your words, the way you held yourself like the truth wasn’t eating you up inside. Mariposa felt ashamed, ashamed for thinking that you could do any better than complete betrayal.  

She stabbed me in the back once before. Why am I surprised?

“What is the matter with you?” Mariposa asked weakly. “How could you say something like that? H-How could you…y/n, this isn’t right. We were just s-supposed to find out information, n-no one said anything about—”

“That was your job,” you interrupted her. “I had a different one. You’re not stupid, either, Ri. Did you really think I was just going to come here and play house with Tom? Ri, we used to run this fucking city, and they took that from us. Don’t you want it back?”

Mariposa wiped the tears under her eyes. Long ago, when Mariposa was alone with broken wings, perhaps she would’ve wanted that. Maybe she would’ve even let Harrison have her just to turn her back on him in the end. Mariposa used to be empty, too, and you had turned her black and blue inside. But things had changed. For six months, Harrison had been picking up the parts of her she had lost in you, and when he couldn’t find something that fit, he fixed her up with pieces of himself.  

Mariposa had been hanging on by her fingertips, and Harrison had picked her back up. She always, always wanted it to be you, but it couldn’t be. It was never meant to be you.

“No,” she admitted. “Not if it means killing Harrison. I-I won’t let you do this, y/n. I won’t.”

Mariposa stood up straight, and you glanced down as you watched her reach for her gun. You didn’t move as she slipped it out of the back of her jeans, holding it up to you. You kept your face calm, but there was fear in you. Mariposa was in love.  

And I have no idea how far she will go for love.

“I won’t let you go through with this,” she hissed through angry tears. “You’re not killing anyone. No one’s fucking dying, y/n, and if you want to get to Tom, you’ll have to get through me first.”

“Ri,” you said slowly, narrowing your eyes. “Put it down. You’re not going to shoot me.”

“Oh, really?!” She cried, putting both hands on the gun now. “You have no idea what I’d do for Harrison. You have no idea!”

“What has he done for you that I haven’t?” You scoffed. You stepped closer to her, but she didn’t lower the gun. She kept it aimed at your head, tears on her face as she held it up. “Huh? Ri, I’ve been there since day one! You’ve known Harrison for what? Six months? Six months of you two fucking each other doesn’t come close to the amount of time we’ve spent together. When we met, Ri, we were two scared little girls, and because of me, look at where you are.” You gestured to her clothes. “Look at you! I made you! Before me, you were just scared a-and alone! And because of me—”

“Because of you?” She scoffed, sniffling. Her hands were starting to shake, but she steeled herself, gripping the handle tight. “y/n, what the fuck have you done for me lately? You showed up here…when we were kids, and…and you made me believe you were here to stay. I loved you, y/n, and you just…you just left!”

Piece by piece, take me apart.

You clenched your jaw, “Ri, you know why I had to leave—”

“But you didn’t come back!” She interrupted you, her voice breaking. “Y-You left me here. All by myself. Y-You came, and you made me believe every fucking thing that came out of your mouth, and then you left. You didn’t even call. You’re just a liar, y/n! You’re a sad, manipulative, piece of mierda. And you did it again. You came back, y-you…you took advantage of me, and now you want me to go along with this plan of yours?”

You shook your head a bit, “Ri, don’t say that. I do love you.”

Scatter me around.

“No, you don’t!” Mariposa cried, shaking her head. “If you loved me, you’d bury this plan of yours! You wouldn’t put the people I love in danger! Harrison would never do this to me. If Tom asked him to do something that would fucking kill me, he’d throw in the towel. And I can count on him for that. Don’t make me do this, y/n.”

“You’re not going to shoot me, Ri, so just stop,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “I do love you. Don’t say that. Don’t…don’t try and make what we had something that it wasn’t. I do love you.”

“I needed you,” she sniffled, keeping her grip on the gun, her finger sliding onto the trigger. You stood up straight at that. “I needed you, and you weren’t there. Harrison? Harrison tucks me in at night. He kisses me goodbye. H-He takes care of me, and he never lies to me. He doesn’t leave the bed in the middle of the night, and h-he always tells me when he’s going to come back. And he’s my best friend.”

Piece by piece, put me back together.

“I’m your best friend,” you said lowly.  

“You were. You were my best friend, until you took it upon yourself to fuck me over, and fuck over the people I love,” Mariposa croaked. “And you know what, y/n? It’s not just me you’ve lied to. You’ve lied to everyone, but especially yourself.”

You frowned. “Ri, you’re mistaken. All of this? What I’m doing? It’s good for us. I-I’m sick and tired of men telling me what to do. I’m…I’m so tired of proving myself to people that will never learn!” You cried. “These people, Ri? They don’t care w-what we can do! They don’t care who we are! Because at the end of the day, we’re just girls, and they’ll never understand! We have to take it from them, and if people have to die for me to climb that fucking ladder, then so be it! I’m glad!” You laughed bitterly. “I’m so fucking glad!”

“You don’t mean that,” Mariposa said softly, her eyes red. “You’re still lying to yourself, even now, even when I just might fucking kill you.”

“I’m not—”

“You love him,” Mariposa said painfully. “You love Tom, and when it comes time for you to execute this master plan of yours, you won’t be able to. You’ll never be able to pull the trigger, and deep down, you know it.”

You uncrossed your arms, stepping even close, the barrel of her gun on your chest now, touching you. You swallowed down every true word in your throat, forced it down inside of you. The truth didn’t matter, it would never matter, it couldn’t matter. This was business, and there was so romance in business. There was just a plan, an execution, and a reward.  

“I don’t love him,” you spat. “Unlike you, I didn’t spend every waking moment trying to fill the…the fucking emptiness inside of me with him. Tom is a means to an end. I want what he has.”

Mariposa laughed, shaking her head. “You’re lying to yourself. You love him. I see the way you look at him, y/n.”

Set it free.

“The way I look at him?” You scoffed. “You know, that’s fucking pathetic, Ri.”

“It’s written all over your goddamn face, y/n!” Mariposa bit back.  

“And how the hell would you know?” You sneered.

Watch it fly.

“Because!” Mariposa’s voice quivered. “Because…because that’s the way I used to look at you, y/n. And…I-It’s…it’s the way you used to look at me.”

You closed your mouth at that, and Mariposa finally, slowly, lowered the gun. The tears were dropping down her face fast, and she wiped her nose, sniffling, just staring at you hopelessly. There was defeat crawling over her skin, and she breathed it in shakily. The truth was the only thing that could save you, and she was prepared to use it as a weapon.  

Drunk on adrenaline.

“You look at him like that, y/n,” Mariposa whimpered. “But this time, your eyes don’t…they don’t wander. You love him, y/n, and…and if you go through with this, you will…you will never forgive yourself. And I…I won’t forgive you.”

Mariposa put the gun away, and you stopped her, putting your hands on her shoulders.  

“Ri, don’t…please don’t do this,” you whispered.  

“y/n, you did this to yourself,” Mariposa struggled to get out. “You weren’t honest with me. You let me live in this fucking fantasy. And now you…you want to take it away from me? Take it away from yourself? We…we were happy. No jodas, no conmigo.”

“Ri, please,” you begged. “I can’t do this without you.”

Mariposa shook her head. “Admit it,” she breathed. “Admit that you love Tom. Admit that you have your head so far in the fucking sand, and admit that you love him.”

Nothing but moonlight and stars.

“And if I do?” You scoffed. “W-What does it matter? What does it matter if I do?”

“Because you can still change the way this goes, there’s still time,” Mariposa whispered. “There’s still time to change the narrative, y/n. You love him. More than you’ve ever loved anyone else…including me.”

You had your own tears coming, but you tried to swallow them down.

“Ri, I can’t do that,” you sniffled. “If I go back on my word, my dad…Ri, he’ll never give me what I want. And God, dammit, he’s finally giving me the chance. The chance I never got, you know what that means to me, Ri. He’s been hinting for years that he wants to marry me off to that same prick he always talks about, and I’m…I can’t let him do that, Ri. Because if I fail here, if Tom doesn’t give me what he has, if I come home empty-handed…I’m signing my life away right then.”

Mariposa wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in tightly for a hug. Her arms were the only thing keeping you together, and you fell into them. They were warm and inviting, and Mariposa was the only person who could understand the panic inside of you.  

The need to fulfill shoes that weren’t meant for me, the ache to prove myself, the things I would do for just one chance.

“He’ll understand,” Mariposa whispered in your ear after a few moments. “He won’t hate you. He loves you, too.”

“Ri, he’ll kill me,” you sobbed into her neck, hiding your face. “If my father doesn’t do it first, he will.”

Mariposa pulled back just a bit, wiping the tears from your face. You were blinded by desire, so blinded that you couldn’t even see the signs. She pitied you, but she tried not to show it.  

“He won’t,” she murmured. “Tom is many things. He’s a liar, yeah, and he’s…he’s been lying to us this whole time. But did you ever think he might just be stalling? Because he wants you to stay?”

You shook your head, “no. Remember when I thought that Tom was behind our problems in Brooklyn?”

“And wasn’t he?”

“No,” you shook your head again. “It wasn’t him. I think he thought it was some of his lackeys, you know, screwing up, but it wasn’t them. It’s someone else. There’s someone else fucking things up for my father, and I guess…I’ve just been using Tom to find out more information, but he’s come up empty every time. Harrison couldn’t figure it out, his brothers couldn’t figure out, and my father is here already, and I know he’s going to want answers, Ri. And I have nothing for him. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m losing, okay? So if I don’t take whatever Tom is worth, then I have nothing to show for what I’ve been doing here in New York, and I will lose.”

Mariposa took your hand and brought you to sit.  

“Can I tell you something, y/n?” She asked, squeezing your hands in hers. “Something my dad told me earlier this week. Something I think you need to hear.”

You nodded, and she played with your fingers. The silence between you was welcome now.  

“You’ve been in New York for a while now,” Mariposa said softly. “Long enough to meet a lot of your father’s men out here. My father’s men. And you know what they say?” You looked up at her. “They adore you, y/n. You’re not…hotheaded or cruel. You rule with an iron fist sometimes, but you care about people. And you…you join them, you don’t just give out orders, you get your hands dirty alongside them. And for that, they’re grateful.”

“What…What are you saying?” You asked.

“That men don’t have power if no one is listening to them,” Mariposa continued. “Your father’s position means jack shit if none of his men do as he says. As far as I’m concerned, you could sit in his chair any day now, and no one would object to that. No one would stand up to you. You’re not like your father, and you…you don’t need his approval. You never have. You’ve always been better than him. He’s been holding you back, y/n, but with Tom? You are unstoppable. Because Tom might put on a mask that looks like your father, but let me tell you something, y/n.”

You sniffled as she grabbed your face with both hands, pulling you close to her.

“Tom is weak in the fucking knees for you,” she said breathlessly. “And no matter what you throw his way, he will never push you away. He will never push you aside. He will never, ever hurt you. We have to tell them the truth, y/n.”

You shook your head adamantly, but Mariposa nodded. The truth scared you. It scared you before, it scared you now, and it would scare you forever. The truth dug holes in front of you, and you knew it was waiting to laugh when you fell right in, laughing until it would cover you whole and never let you breathe. The truth suffocated you.

So how can it save me?

“We have to tell them, y/n,” Mariposa brushed your hair out of your eyes, her thumbs wiping away the tears that fell. “Please, y/n. It’s okay to admit that…that we fell for those two pendejos.”

You both laughed through your tears, and Mariposa hugged you tight to her.

“It’s okay,” Mariposa breathed. “Tonight. Tonight, we’re going to…we’re going to tell them everything, y/n. We’re going to put all the cards out on the table.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me, too,” Mariposa shook her head. “But we’re going to do it together.”

“Together,” you echoed, and Mariposa leaned her forehead against yours. And you held onto her tightly, because you thought if you let go of her, you might just break.

You stared up at the door, not really knowing what to feel. You had been here many times before, but standing here now, it felt like it was the first time you were stepping inside.  

Because everything that happens after this will change.

The double doors opened for you, and your boots were the only sound echoing along the tiled floors as you made your way down the hall. In the living room sat Tom and his brothers, Harrison not in sight, and they were playing cards around the coffee table, liquor and stubbed out cigarettes littered around them.  

And I might not come out of this alive.

“Tom,” you called out his name, and he turned his head, his eyes brightening a bit when he saw it was you. He put out the cigarette between his fingers and got up off the couch, coming to greet you.  

“Aye, love, what are you doing here?” Tom asked, cupping the back of your neck and kissing your forehead. “I thought we were supposed to meet in the morning.”

You took his hand in yours, leaning up so your lips were against his ear. “I have…we have to talk, Tom. A-Alone. Please.”

He brushed your hair away from your eyes, scanning the worried look on your face. He nodded slowly. You sounded anxious, and he noticed your hands fidgeting. He had never seen you quite like this, and he brought your close to him to shield you from his brothers.

“Alright. Alright, darling, come,” Tom put a hand on your back, guiding you towards the stairs. “My study, yeah?”

You nodded. You climbed the stairs nervously, your palms starting to sweat as he brought you into his office, closing the door behind you. Tom shrugged his suit jacket off, rolling his neck out as he went to the bar cart to pour himself something to drink. It was something familiar to him and comforting, and he suspected whatever you were going to say was going to be serious.  

“What’s on your mind, m’love?” He asked, taking a sip of his drink. Tom ran a hand through his hair before turning around, and he swallowed the alcohol on his tongue hard. You stood there, your eyes red, tears threatening to fall. “y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Tom,” you said slowly. You came towards him, taking his free hand in yours. Your voice came out strained a bit, as if your throat was dry. “Tom, when I…when I first came here, I had no idea what…what I was getting into. You were…exactly the man I thought you were going to be. You were…you were stupid. And cruel. And you underestimated me at every turn.”

Tom scoffed a bit, tilting his head to the side, confused, “aye. But, I didn’t know you.”

“No,” you shook your head, “you didn’t. But I had my mind made up when I came here. I wasn’t…I wasn’t going to trust you. I just needed you because I needed to find out what was going on in Brooklyn, but…but Tom, I haven’t been telling you the truth.”

Tom pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Brooklyn. The missing cash,” you whispered. “My men in Brooklyn told me that it was you. And…and that there were Holland lackeys all over downtown.”

Tom stiffened a bit, letting out a breath through his nose. He pulled his hand away from yours, starting to walk towards his desk. You couldn’t read him, not yet.

“So you came thinking it was me that fucked with your shipment in Brooklyn, eh?” Tom put his glass down hard on his desk, turning around to face you. You slowly made your way to his desk, standing on the other side of it. “Well, it wasn’t me. So what the fuck were you doing here?”

We are all liars here.

“You thought it was you, too, Tom,” you shot back. “I remembered. The night you said you had something for me. It wasn’t the Russians, but it was supposed to be, wasn’t it?” You tilted your head to the side. “Yeah. You’ve been lying to me, too, Tom.”

You and Tom met eyes, staring at each other with hard glares. You swallowed your tears down quickly, standing up on two feet solidly. You refused to let him make you feel any less. You were both alone and broken inside. You wouldn’t let him stand on a pedestal.  

We have all been taken apart. I don’t care how well you wear your second skin.

You knew that you were both naked from the inside out now. There was no more pretending. Mariposa had reminded you today that you were not a machine. You were not made of metal and wire, you were made of skin and bones, and those bones ached to be loved. The struggle of being alone was always fighting to not be lonely, and for the past six months, you were not lonely. Tom always had something smart to say, but behind closed doors and in darkness, Tom had breathed life into you.  

It didn’t matter why you came to New York anymore, not to you. The city had changed you. Mariposa had showed you a world where feeling and life could exist, and Tom had showed you that the fires inside of you weren’t caused by being queen, they were caused by something real and burning and ignited by human touch, his touch.  

Mariposa taught you how to be human; Tom taught you how to live.

“So,” Tom said lowly, his voice no more than a growl. “When was it that you decided you were going to kill me?”

You rolled your fingers out beside you, and Tom glanced briefly at them, anticipating you to reach for the gun he had seen in the back of your jeans.  

“After we met,” you finally said. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted before I came to New York. And then we met. And…I decided then.”

The room was eerily quiet. You could hear Tom’s heavy breaths, but neither of you dared to move, just staring at each other, not knowing what to feel or really what to say. You saw conflict in Tom’s eyes.

I thought I was yours, and you were mine.

Six months had done a lot to you. You had been training your whole life for it, and here you were, six months of accomplishment and success under your belt, but you weren’t smiling. This didn’t feel like success, you weren’t proud of any of it. You had been pretending for so long, and you had no idea what it was like to not pretend.  

I can’t tell what’s real. I can’t tell what’s mine and what’s yours, and I don’t know which pieces on the floor are from me and which are from you.

“When did you decide you would take everything from me?” You asked softly. Tom’s eyes moved down your body for a moment, coming back to your face.

“After you decided to work for me,” Tom said lowly. “At your initiation.”

“And what were you planning to do?”

“Marry you.”

Your lip curled up a bit, in a bitter attempt to laugh. You and Tom were so alike, it was terrifying. You saw yourself in him, even more so now that you had stopped holding up the lies you had held up for so long. Vulnerable, transparent, and defeated, you saw yourself in him now more than ever, and you just hoped he thought the same.

“You said once that we were…one and the same,” you said softly. “Two sides of the same coin. You said…” You looked down, “that when I finally realized it, I wouldn’t be able to stop what would happen between us.”

Tom said nothing still, but his lip twitched a bit at that.  

Fear, hate, then love, all at once, all at the same time.

“Did you mean that?” You asked, breathless, and Tom pursed his lips when he noticed the slight quiver in your voice.  

“Aye,” he muttered, licking his dry lips angrily, “and I thought what it was going to be was—” He scoffed, “something different.”

Something better.

“Love,” you filled in the blanks. “You thought I’d fall for you.”

Tom answered with nothing but silence, a dark expression coming over his handsome features. He should’ve known that everything about you was too good to be true. He should’ve known that the absolute perfection of your smile and your touch and the way you seemed to look at him and not through him was all but playing pretend.  

But sometimes we play along, even if we know the truth. Sometimes we play along because the lie feels so much better than the truth, and we just want to hold on for as long as we can.

“We’re not children, Tom,” you murmured. “You’ve got an empire to rule. And so do I. Love isn’t…we don’t get to have those kind of luxuries. We…people like us? We spend…forever to trying to fill the fucking void. And we never will be able to. It doesn’t matter…what we feel. People like us are meant to be alone, Tom. That’s just how it is.”

“So how does it end?” Tom took a seat in his chair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “Are you going to kill me here, where I sit?”

“Are you?” You retorted.  

“It’s three against one,” Tom narrowed his eyes. “My brothers are close by.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “But it’s not them I’m worried about.”

“Oh, no? And why not?”

“Because with them, I wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger,” you admitted. “With you, I can’t say the same.”

It happened in slow motion to you. You noticed Tom’s hand lower, underneath his desk, and your hand grabbed the handle of the gun tucked into the back of your jeans. You both held them up at the same time, yours pointed to his forehead and his pointed right at your heart.  

“And no matter what you throw his way, he will never push you away.”

Your hand shook a bit, staring right at him. Your finger fell onto the trigger, holding it tight. You palm was sweaty, and the metal felt slippery in your hand; the gun had never felt heavier, but you didn’t lower it. Tom pulled the chamber back, standing up to your level, and you couldn’t stop staring into those eyes. Those eyes you adored, the eyes you had adored for so long, and now you couldn’t see anything but hatred inside of them.  

“He will never push you aside.”

“Do it,” you croaked, finally letting the tears fall. “Do it, Tom. Do it, you coward.”

Tom’s lips twitched again, and he sucked in a deep breath, but you could hear how shaky it was. His gun never moved, but you could tell there was something inside of him fighting to break through. You only saw it come through when you lowered your own gun.

Now it was just him, standing there alone, the only one that held power in a room of nothingness. It was easy to want to kill you when you pointed death right back at him, but he was afraid of holding loss on his own. He wanted to kill you, he wished he could feel that kind of hatred and hurt inside of him. He wanted this to be easy, like it always was. Killing was always so easy, and in this room, he had done it before; spreading blood across its walls, the familiar sound of when the body hit the ground.

Seeing stars in their eyes, true moonlight, until there was nothing left but nothingness.

“No,” Tom said lowly. He needed you to want to kill him. He needed you to hold that gun up and not let go of it. “Don’t fucking do that. Don’t do that!”

You emptied the magazine from your gun, tossing it onto the floor. You emptied the chamber in your gun by pulling it back, and the only bullet loaded inside of it clattered onto the floor. Tom struggled to hold the gun up to you still, but he held it there, pointing at your head now.

“Put it back up,” Tom’s voice cracked. “Put it back!”

“He will never, ever hurt you.”

You made your way around the desk, and Tom’s aim followed you, but now it was the first time you saw the gun shake even just the slightest. You came even closer, so close that the barrel of the gun touched your forehead. This was the second time someone had raised a gun to you today, and while you were afraid before because of love, now, you were completely calm for the same reason.

Because I know what you’ll do for love, Tommy.

“Do it, Tom,” you said again, barely above a whisper. “Do it.”

With one hand, Tom reached over and tangled one hand into your hair, forcing your head back. You let out a breath as he pressed the gun to your temple harshly, forcing the metal into the softness of your skin. His grip on your hair was tight, pulling on it, but you didn’t do anything but look up at him with wide, teary eyes.

“Why aren’t you afraid?” Tom hissed through gritted teeth. There was struggle in his eyes, fear inside of them. You had never seen it before, but his eyes were glittering with it. “Why aren’t you fucking scared?!”

You laughed a bit through your tears.

“We have to tell them the truth, y/n.”

“Because it’s you, Tommy,” you whispered weakly. “And it’s always been you.”

Tom scrunched his face up as he dug the barrel of the gun into the side of your head, pulling as tight as he could on your hair. You did nothing, and the lack of fight in you was chilling. It was so unlike you, to give up, to stop trying, but here you were, nothing but something broken. The worst part was how content you were. Head tipped back, your breaths were gentle and even, and your eyes were wide and bright. There was nothing but absolute comfort in the softness of your expression. You had a loaded gun to your head, but Tom had never seen you so at ease.  

“Fuck!” Tom cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You met his eyes again, and the fear in them only grew. You closed them when you felt the gun leave the side of your head, and your lips parted as you heard the gun rattle as it fell onto the floor. There was silence for a few moments before you felt his lips against your own, his free hand touching the place where the gun used to be, touching it delicately. You could feel his hands shaking as they held your face, and you ached inside when you felt his own tears fall onto the apples of your cheeks.

For love, you’ll do nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“I can’t,” Tom whispered. “I-I just can’t. I can’t do it.”

You put your hands over his on your cheeks, opening your eyes finally. Tom had just a few tears that had surfaced, but he was good at keeping them inside. But it was enough to know you had broken him down. Tom had had those walls up for so long, and it was difficult to see that this was him. This was Tom, in all of his pain and misery and emptiness, this was him.  

“What do we do, Tom?” You asked in a shaky voice, and he rubbed the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping your tears. “What do we do?”

That question, this time, made Tom’s breath catch in his throat. It was the first time that you were asking him for help, real help, because you had nowhere else to go. There was nowhere to run, no one waiting for you on the other side. Without Tom, you were completely, selflessly, utterly alone. The loneliness you had been trying for so long to chase away was crawling its way back to you, and God, did it have claws in your skin. You were bleeding from the inside out, and no one could ever know how to fix you except for him.

“You know who I am,” Tom said in a cracked voice. “And I know you.”

You leaned your forehead against his.  

No more pretending. No more lies. Everything is up in smoke.  

“I’m yours, Tom,” you whispered. “And…and you’re mine.”

Take me apart.

“Your father,” Tom licked his lips. “Was he ever going to make a deal with me?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “But it…it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s going to ask us to get married right away,” you explained. “He’s going to say it’s because he wants to ensure his end of the deal, but he’s not planning on you seeing Sunday morning, Tom.”

Tom grabbed your face tightly, the way you adored, the way that made you feel whole.

Put me back together.

“Are you going to do this with me, y/n?” Tom asked through his teeth. “Are you fucking with me?”

Set it free.

“Until death do we part,” you promised.

Watch it fly.

read chapter eight

[supercasey]

Dumb thoughts on the Child Avatars AU

I dunno, just some dumb ideas I’ve had since I started talking about the AU online/brainstorming about it. (Putting it under a readmore for everyone’s sake)

The “Daisy kidnaps Jon” situation in this AU is Daisy riding her bike to Simon Fairchild’s mansion, holding a water-gun up to both Mike and Jon’s heads, and ordering them to ride with her to the grocery store to buy soda and hang out at a nearby playground for the day. Cue Elias flipping tf out when Jon isn’t at Simon’s place when he goes to pick him up later, Simon being half asleep because he was napping while the kids hung out, and Mike getting soaked by Daisy before he agrees to go with her, and since this happens in, like, late fall or early winter, he gets pneumonia afterwards and can’t hang out for awhile, leading to the kids jokingly saying he’s dead. Btw the only reason the trio was found is because Basira was invited after they made it to the park, and she convinced Daisy to let the boys go home. Daisy literally only kidnapped them because she wanted to play with someone.

Also the Buried!Daisy arc is Daisy getting eaten by a Buried controlled sandbox and Jon jumping in after her. The rest of the kids, who thankfully witnessed this, spent the next three hours digging for them, with Breekon & Hope eventually joining in to help since they were in the area. Daisy and Jon form a trauma bond afterwards and are now best friends.

Jon keeps getting marked by shit and it’s stressing Elias out because hE’S NOT READY FOR THE WATCHER’S CROWN YET!!! He needs more time to prepare, but his son is literally getting marked faster than fucking Sonic.

Speaking of Sonic, seeing as the “Console Wars” (Sega vs Nintendo) are happening during this time period, the kids take the rivalry Very Seriously. The biggest arguments are had between Sasha, Daisy, Julia, and Mike, who are all on Team Sega, and Jon, Martin, Tim, and Danny, who are all on Team Nintendo.

Sasha, close to tears she’s so angry: “Sega DO what NintenDON’T, Tim!!!”

When Martin was born, he only had one thick clump of curly hair that was white, but as he’s grown older and entered the Lonely multiple times, more of his hair has begun to turn white. As of the time of the AU “starting” (so when he’s 8 years old), he looks like he has white highlights in his hair.

Trevor isn’t a fully-fledged Hunt avatar yet, but the girls more or less are, so if you’ve ever watched Wolf Children, that’s pretty much the situation Trevor is currently trapped in. His daughters keeping changing into wolf pups and running wild as he frantically tries to hide their powers from anyone who isn’t Gerry.

(All of the kids secretly know already, even Basira.)

Basira is pretty much the only “normal” kid of the avatar children, save MAYBE for Tim, but he’s been deeply marked by the circus and has a few tiny powers (think S3 Jon as he was figuring out some of his powers, but wasn’t a full-on Archivist just yet).

The season 1 gang (including Danny) are the closest group of friends in the AU, save for Daisy and Basira’s friendship, and they hang out a lot at each other’s homes on the weekends.

Adelard usually brings Jane with him for his “trips” away from the institute, so it’s not unusual for her to be gone for long periods of time. But she always sends postcards and gifts to the institute for everyone!

Helen is three years old, so theoretically she should be able to talk, but she rarely does so, preferring to communicate via giggles and laughter. Only Jon, the Stoker brothers, and Michael can understand her, and they take turns translating for everyone else.

Whenever she’s brought to the institute, Helen takes to toddling around after Jon and Martin, giggling up a storm the whole time. Jon finds it a bit annoying while Martin is endlessly amused by her antics.

A list of the guardian’s/adult’s ages before I fucking forget (as of when the AU “starts” in 1994): Gertrude Robinson - 62, Elias Bouchard “Jonah Magnus” - 51 (200+), Peter Lukas - 55, Simon Fairchild - 83 (300+), Gerard “Gerry” Keay - 30, Michael Shelley - 32, Alfred Grifter - Unknown, Adelard Dekker - 48, Nikola Orsinov - 30ish (100+), Annabelle Cane - 34 (Unknown), Trevor Herbert - 47, Agnes Montague - 25ish (60+), Jude Perry - 35, Jared Hopworth - 29, The Admiral - 10.

The “good” parents all keep trying to set up some kind of PTA meeting so they can actually talk about how to raise these supernatural kids properly, but it keeps going horribly wrong; last time they tried, Alfred Grifter and his band showed up and nearly made Simon go deaf, so no one wants to initiate the next attempt at a meeting.

Tbh, at this point the Fear rituals are more successful than Elias’s shitty attempts at forming a PTA.

At some point in the AU Gerry, Michael, and Trevor all pitch in to buy a decently big house together, which leads to some serious Shenanigans now that Melanie is around Michael and Trevor’s kids/wards... let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of knife related accidents.

Gerry taught Melanie how to fight when he took her in and it is the single worst decision he’s ever made in his short, goth life, even if he’ll never admit it. Melanie can now beat the shit out of everyone but Julia and Daisy, and it’s pure chaos every time. Tim puts up a decent fight, but he’s been spoiled on easy wins over his brother all his life. Jon tries and fails to so much as push her. Martin runs away crying before Melanie even throws the first punch. Needless to say, the other kids are very cautious about playing with Melanie now.

None of the kids have an education of any kind except for Mike. I’m serious; the only kid who’s decently educated is being raised by Foxy Grandpa Off His Shits McGee! Julia and Daisy have had some public education but not much, Elias refuses to do anything but home-school Jon yet he sucks shit at math, Tim and Danny don’t even know what a school fucking looks like, Melanie and Jane were too young to go to school when they became avatars, Martin has only recently been allowed near other kids so fuck public school (Peter can do math but Nothing Else), Annabelle fucking forgot to give Sasha any kind of an education outside of Web stuff, and Helen is still a very small child. None of these kids have gone to school for more than a few years at most and dear g-d is that gonna suck for them later down the line.

As a result of this, Basira has taught the other kids a few things when she’s come over and insisted on playing “school” with everyone, but she’s still just a kid and can’t always get them to pay attention during her lessons.

Because of this Rosie, Gerry, Michael, and Gertrude have all started making an effort to more or less home-school all of the kids, which has gone... well enough, I suppose. However, things have recently taken a weird turn since Jon keeps giving everyone the answers to assignments/tests via telepathy.

Jon: Whoa, you can make tea all by yourself, Martin!? Martin: Yeah, I’ve been doing it by myself since I was a toddler. I can also do laundry, mop floors, vacuum, and cook a few things, too! Tim: Wow, that’s really cool, Martin! I wish I could do stuff like that. Gertrude, off to the side: *Gives Peter a horrified look* I’m sorry, but did Martin just say he’s been making tea on his own since he was a toddler? Peter:  ╮(╯ _╰ )╭  Unfortunately, I’m severely depressed.

Yeeeeeeeah, Martin’s in a similar childhood situation to his canon one, but at least there are people actually willing to help him out of it in this universe. Also, Peter will clean himself up at some point here, he’s just still dealing with more or less disowning himself from his family and learning hoe to not be so lonely.

Speaking Of Which, the Lukas family are pretty big antagonists in this AU, primarily through Peter’s mother (I’ll come up with a name for her later if I can’t find it on the wiki), who is trying to kidnap Martin and more or less feed him to the Lonely so Peter will get over his “childish feelings” and return to being her favorite child.

And yes, she DOES accidentally kidnap Jon instead at some point... this kid can literally not avoid getting kidnapped.

I like to think Mike and Julia are really good friends in this AU, being the closest in age and all. They hang out a lot since their dads are both so chill and won’t get upset about it, the two of them mostly just playing video games, watching movies, and biking around their respective neighborhoods together.

(Also they may or may not be responsible for a statement that involves a woman seeing a “flying wolf” passing over London... they’ve yet to confess to it, but Elias is dead certain they’re behind the incident.)

The worms incident is 100% Jane’s secret worm collection getting fucking loose... she was keeping them in the walls “for safe keeping” and No One Fucking Knew, not even Elias, until Jon saw a spider, punched the wall, and Revealed them.

Jon and Tim got their scars because Jane lost control of the worms and they burrowed into the kids. Cue a very panicked 999 call from someone in the institute and Child Services almost getting involved, but Elias managed to cover it up.

Afterwards, Jon is incredibly self-conscious about his worm scars, but Martin tells him “now we both have freckles!” and it honestly makes him feel a little better about the whole thing.

Also Adelard makes an effort to track down a child psychologist/counselor with institute ties so he can get Jane some therapy/help controlling her powers. He loves her to the moon and back, and he’s terrified of her getting traumatized by what she accidentally did.

During the incident, a Notthem gets loose from Artifact Storage and attacks Sasha, but seeing as Sasha is of the Web and the Notthem is connected to a Web artifact, it only manages to really hurt her, but thankfully not kill her. She ends up hospitalized for a few weeks, but comes out fine later on. The table mysteriously disappears afterwards, and no one knows if it was Gertrude or Annabelle’s doing, but either way, the kids never have to deal with a Notthem again.

At some point I wanna get into Jon’s paranoia in season 2 for this AU, but I’m considering changing it from being because of the Jane Prentiss issue to be because of Mr. Spider almost killing him. I dunno how exactly it’ll play out, but I think it has a lot of potential!

Okay, before I end this post full of weird rambling ideas for the AU, I wanna make a list of the powers that the kids have at the time of the story “starting”/the ones they develop down the line because Jonny Sims himself said that all avatars have different powers, and I really wanna infodump on my thoughts for the kids!

Current powers of Jonathan Sims-Bouchard: Can simply know things whenever he wants to (so long as the Eye lets him, but the Eye sometimes keeps him from knowing anything he isn’t mature enough to handle), can compel people to tell him things (the other kids are better at resisting it, and so are other people touched by the Eye), can survive on very little food if he’s fed mostly statements/other people’s trauma, can non-consensually feel the pain and emotions of the people around him, has some weak telepathy powers, and he can subconsciously summon tape recorders.

Future powers of Jonathan Sims-Bouchard: Increased healing abilities, can know most anything if he tries, ability to resist other Eye avatars’ compulsions, can survive purely off of statements/other people’s trauma, can choose whether or not to feel the pain and emotions of the people around him, has much stronger telepathy powers than before, can force himself into people’s minds and read their thoughts, and he can summon tape recorders at will (though some still show up without his knowledge sometimes).

Current powers of Martin Blackwood-Lukas: Can disappear into the Fog for several hours at a time (he cannot be seen by anyone but other Lonely avatars while in the fog), can summon clouds of fog that he can momentarily hide things in (including people), can “banish” most anyone into the fog, and has “Sea Captain Eyes” (he knows where the Tundra is at all times, and can lead someone to it without a map or compass).

Future powers of Martin Blackwood-Lukas: Can change his hair color at will (only to red, white, and a mix of the two colors), can see much better in the Fog and can find anyone he’s pushed into it, can more or less teleport using the Fog, and he has what’s more or less a pocket dimension of fog for storage/hiding his friends from danger (think the inside of Gems in Steven Universe).

Current powers of Tim Stoker-Orsinov: Can make small bipedal toys “come to life” for a few minutes at a time (they can’t talk or communicate; only move around and perform small tasks/dances), can tell when a Notthem is masquerading as someone else, is supernaturally talented at gymnastics, and can dance alongside the creatures of the Stranger without being fully corrupted by them.

Future powers of Tim Stoker-Orsinov: Better control over the powers he already has as well as a high tolerance for the Spiral.

Current powers of Danny Stoker-Orsinov: Can order around creatures of the Stranger against their will, can tell when a Notthem is masquerading as someone else, can dance alongside the creatures of the Stranger without being fully corrupted by them, is supernaturally talented at gymnastics, and can change his voice to anything he likes (not always intentionally, though).

Future powers of Danny Stoker-Orsinov: Can more or less “teleport” to other circus locations by walking into theaters, can now change his voice to whatever he likes with his knowledge and consent, can take over as the Stranger’s ringmaster if necessary, can trigger a mesmerizing dance whenever he’d like, and has a high tolerance for the Spiral.

Current powers of Sasha James-Cane: Can communicate with spiders and have them send messages to other Web avatars, can read minds if she tries really hard, can “trap“ other entities in large webs that she can summon (takes a lot of energy), and she has Spider-Man-like abilities (can walk on walls and ceilings, can carry much more than her weight should allow, etc).

Future powers of Sasha James-Cane: Can now read minds without too much effort, can navigate almost any area that’s being controlled/influenced by the Web, can create webs without nearly as much effort as before, can transform her body to have more arms, legs, and eyes, and she now has venomous fangs (which can thankfully be controlled and/or hidden).

Current powers of Alice “Daisy” Tonner: Can turn into a wolf at will/when she’s especially emotional, can smell blood from several miles away, and has supernatural senses/physical abilities.

Future powers of Alice “Daisy” Tonner: Can now track most any monster she’s hunting once she gets at least one good look at them, can communicate with other Hunters via howling, and can navigate the Buried if needed (though this is very triggering for her and will cause her to pass out afterwards).

Current powers of Julia Montauk: Can turn into a wolf at will/when she’s especially emotional, can smell blood from several miles away, has supernatural senses/physical abilities, can track most any monster if she knows their name, can communicate with other Hunters via howling, and she can shift into a bipedal werewolf when she feels like she’s in danger.

Future powers of Julia Montauk: All of her previous powers have drastically improved, plus she has better control of them now.

Current powers of Basira Hussain: She has common fucking sense, something almost none of the other children have.

Future powers of Basira Hussain: She common sense AND she has a werewolf GF now. :) ((No dating for the babies, not until they’re at least teenagers))

Current powers of Melanie King-Grifter: Can listen to Grifter’s Bone without being damaged in any way, the music of Grifter’s Bone makes her powers exemplified for a period of time after she listens to it, the smell of blood triggers her to become violent, she can summon sharp weapons (knives, swords, etc) from thin air, and she can see a red aura around other people who have been marked by the Slaughter.

Future powers of Melanie King-Grifter: She has much better control of her abilities now, she can perform Grifter’s Bone songs for people and keep them from dying/going feral, and she can now also summon other weapons from thin air (guns, baseball bats, etc).

Current powers of Oliver Banks: Can see people’s deaths a week in advance via his dreams, he sees dark tentacles around people who are going to die soon, can see but not talk to ghosts, and he can smell death on anyone who’s undead/controlling other people’s bodies.

Future powers of Oliver Banks: Can raise the dead and control them to do his bidding (takes a lot of energy), can speak cat (not End related; Admiral related), and he can cause people to die within the week if he touches them in his dreams.

Current powers of Georgie Barker: Can see a “death countdown” over people who are going to die within the next thirty days, doesn’t feel any fear whatsoever, can see but not talk to ghosts, and she sees a dark sludge staining the clothes of people who have been marked by the End.

Future powers of Georgie Barker: Can bring people back to life for a minute or so by touching them (think Pushing Daisies type powers), can speak cat (not End related; Admiral is best cat dad), and she can communicate with ghosts much better now.

Current powers of Jane Prentiss-Dekker: Can summon bugs of most kinds from her mouth and under her fingernails, can communicate with bugs, and can fight off most diseases without any trouble.

Future powers of Jane Prentiss-Dekker: Can now completely control bugs via a hive mind effect, can summon bugs from anywhere on her body, has much stronger healing abilities than Jon, and she can see invisible bugs crawling on the skin of those who the Corruption wants her to get rid of (it’s hard for her not to give in to it’s desires).

Current powers of Mike Crew-Fairchild: Can levitate/fly at will, can summon clouds of any kind (rain, thunder, snow, etc) in any conditions, has much higher resistance to the weather/temperature, and he can “banish” people into the Vast at will.

Future powers of Mike Crew-Fairchild: Same as before, but with slightly better control than he had as a teenager.

Current powers for Helen Richardson-Shelley: Can change the world around her to be more like the Spiral (adding more doors, changing the colors of things, causing hallucinations, etc), can change any door into a doorway into the Spiral, and she can amplify her voice (very hard to control as a baby).

Future powers for Helen Richardson-Shelley: Can now summon doors that lead to the Spiral from thin air, has much better control over her powers and abilities than before, can morph her body to be longer and sharper at will, and she can “banish” people into the endless hallways of the Spiral.

((Holy shit, that took awhile))

Anyways, here’s a playlist I made for the AU, feel free to scream at me for my very weird taste in music: Pinky Swear That You Won’t Go Changing

[doorsclosingslowly]

Hell is just a beat away (5/9)

Despite early promise, young Maul has turned out to be a disappointment, willfully delaying his training with secret attempts to make himself friends from scrap metal. He must be properly motivated, and so Darth Sidious sends him to a slave market on an impossible mission. It backfires. Star Wars: Darth Maul (2017) comic AU | 8k | warning for limb loss, discussion of sexual assault of a teenager, body horror (implanted bombs)

If the kids are united

Ta-tap tap tap, tap ta-tap tap. He takes small steps by necessity—the buyer holds his hand and creates a pace he must match—small steps, but many of them, and quick ones, taking him ever further away from the palace of Xev Xrexus. It is little cause for happiness. He has been on this path before, twice, though not back then in the company of a twi’lek child, so young that if she was a boy even the Sisters would have left her to grow for a few more years. There is no point in looking at her, in growing attached—but her presence nevertheless settles his determination, step after step after step.

A street is crossed, and there is a bright sudden pain down there and—he does not yearn for his home. There is no point. But he knows he had thick calluses then, would walk through nettles and thorny underbrush barefoot as he is now and then he would stomp for the joy of it, and laugh. There is no point in missing that boy who lived then, unsoftened by captivity and so naïve that the worst he could imagine was the siring of his child.

That boy was filed down to nothing along with his calluses and his nails and his horns. That boy died.

Soon, so will he.

It is useless to mourn. Nothing is real in the world anymore, nothing but violation, and violence.

The new Master is short, and that will make it easier. They gave their name, he dimly remembers, but he can’t recall it and it will not matter soon. Even here there are maggots, and maggots don’t care for names. The slaver’s arm is bent upwards to keep hold of one of Savage’s fingers, and the twi’lek’s chain is tied to what looks like a necktie misused as a belt. She’s walking so close behind that she bumps into the slaver with every other step, which should further diminish their range of motion, and most crucially—the slaver stowed the bombs’ remote control device inside their satchel. They will not reach it in time.

Tap ta-tap ta-tap. Now all that is missing is a spot that is dark and unobserved. Something ebbs and bobs deep inside him, but it’s futile now to wonder whether it’s regret or relief or just more fear. If he does not act soon, he’ll arrive at a ship or a palace, and his one chance will be spent.

There. Alleyway. A few more steps, and—

I’m sorry, he thinks, I know I promised to try to come home and then he shakes his thumb loose of the Master’s hand and grabs their arm tight and he pulls them up and—

He slams them against the wall.

Again.

Again.

The necktie belt’s come loose, he notices in his peripheral awareness, and the twi’lek’s picking it up and backing away. The Master in his hand squirms. Shudders. Whimpers, in a voice that sounds higher than what Savage thought he heard in the palace but Savage wasn’t all there back then, not truly, hasn’t for a very long time been as present as he is now. The false roles and expectations have dropped away from him like dried mud. (He was bred to be a warrior, not a plaything. When his Mate looked at him She should have judged his lethality and not his body, his symmetry, his submission; She should have chosen a brutal fighter to fuck and carry the line of the night. He wouldn’t have liked it, either, but at least—he would have understood. This new Master looked and saw a broken toy and so they thought nothing of stowing away the remote that gives them power. They’re holding Savage by the hand, when he is an abducted son of Wrath.)

He roars in wild triumph and swings the Master over his head, one circle, another, for more devastating impact and on the second turn something dark swirls out against the wall, something that must have covered the face, because he gets a glimpse of—

He sees—

He—

He catches them in his other arm and—

He looks but his eyes don’t want to see. He blinks and blinks, but the face doesn’t change. It still looks the dreams he tried to forbid himself. It looks like his…

It’s the face of a brother.

Not a Master. This is a nightbrother, eyes shuttered and a face as red and powerful as Savage’s ever seen. A face as small as—no, he used to raise babies, it’s not that small, but the nightbrother is a young boy and so Savage cradles him in his arms, whispering, “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.”

He wants to know his face, his horn pattern, wants to know whose brother this is, who sent him to Savage’s rescue, who sent a childto the hell of Nar Shaddaa—he desperately wants to see, but he almost killed this boy, almost killed this young nightbrother when he’s been so alone and bereft of purpose for years and now he almost killed—he wants to look, but his arms cradle the child and his mouth keeps repeating, “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry,” and whatever he may want to do his hands cannot let go. Savage’s body has acted against his wishes every day of every week of every month of the past few years, but this is the first time it feels sweet. He won’t let go. He is curious and shameful and shaking from adrenaline-drop, but his arms want to hold this child forever.

They are still on Nar Shaddaa, still in the slavers’ den, and any passing stranger could—but Savage waited until a dark alley to attack, and there’s no-one walking by. No threat, for a moment.

“I’m sorry, brother,” he mumbles, and his fingers slink over the back of the boy’s head—bruised, but no broken bone—and feel the breath that comes from his mouth and then he holds on tight, tight, but not so tight it’ll trigger any wound that Savage—oh Mother—that Savage just gave this miraculous small nightbrother child.

⁂

The shift was rapid, dizzying, but even in this Master has taught Maul well: the quick turn to violence and its even quicker end would certainly have terrified Maul if it was not exactly like the base pattern of his training. As it is, and with the living force bathing him in the zabrak’s intentions be they grim determination or, for minutes now, a soft and anguished terror soaked through with a strange emotion he cannot parse, but it eddies and bobs with the hand cradling Maul’s head and it doesn’t feel lethal, not even hostile…

He would have been scared, disoriented, he decides, if he was not Sith—but he is and so the sudden attack just made the world make sense.

Sense. His head aches and so does his arm but the world makes sense again, it makes sense, like it didn’t when he was leaving the palace holding onto a slave he didn’t know how to talk to, a zabrak slave that Maul desperately wants to like him—and the zabrak’s doomed, doomed, or Maul is, once they get to Master, but still he can’t help wanting to be liked—it was strange, and he didn’t know what to do except walk and get to the ship and then they would—and then they will get to Master and someone will die. That was all he understood. He didn’t want to think about it, but when he tried to focus on something else, focus on his desperate dream, he still had no idea how he could make the liking happen. Any of the small in-between interactions that people apparently have. None of the hololessons covered this scenario, and Maul didn’t have time to dream and re-dream about it until it felt perfect… He knew he’d dipped his toe in a world that didn’t make sense, and there was no guide as to what to do, before the violence.

And now he understands again. The world is back on its rails.

The darkside zabrak tested him.

There needs to be a hierarchy, obviously, and before it wasn’t clear where the zabrak stood compared to Maul, so they couldn’t really interact. That was the problem with Maul’s ideas of how to make them friends. They didn’t have roles without the hierarchy. And without the roles, nothing makes sense. Nobody knows what to do.

Except the clever yellow zabrak. He knew that the only thing they could do was find the hierarchy, and Maul’s grateful for his quick thinking, so grateful that he almost isn’t angry that he lost (even though he is Darth Maul! He was supposed to beat everybody!) and anyway, the zabrak, Savage, he decided that Maul should survive even though he’s weaker, he obviously has a purpose for Maul, and even if the purpose conflicts with Master’s and Maul will have to turn against him very soon—it feels nice, good, that Savage let Maul live. That he has a purpose for Maul. It’s so close—no, Maul decides, it’s exactly what he wanted. What else is liking but seeing someone’s purpose, anyway? (The zabrak is a darksider. He’s strong. He likes what matters. Only Maul likes things that are useless, like mangy old brachno-jags and droids made from trash, and soon he will learn to become better. Master will teach him. He’s been trying, has been punishing Maul for these useless likes, for so long now. One day it’ll stick.)

The zabrak beat Maul, and he let him live. He’s running his fingers—his bare warm-skin fingers—over the back of Maul’s head with more care than Maul would need soldering a tiny circuit, and when Maul turns his head slightly he can rest his cheek against a naked shoulder. It’s—it’s more contact with another living being than he can ever remember having. The few animals that found their way into the Mustafar complex would always scramble away from him, unless they were brought by Master and they hurt and he had to kill them. A warm pulsing neck under his fingers, hot blood—it felt nothing like this. This is gentle, luxurious, softer by a thousandfold than any robe Maul has ever touched. He almost can’t feel the leftover throbbing in his skull over the revelation that is touching, skin-to-skin, another being. A darkside zabrak, just like him.

“Sorry,” the zabrak keeps muttering. “Sorry, brother,” and Maul doesn’t know what he’s sorry for. Letting him live? It would have been honorable to die in battle, but selfishly, Maul is glad he didn’t die before he found out what resting his head against someone’s shoulder feels like. Sorry for holding Maul? He should have been. As a Sith Lord, Maul is above these animal comforts. But also—Savage would stop petting him, if he was sorry for that, and Maul is shamefully grateful that this guess, too, is wrong. It will have to end, and soon, and forever—when they get to Master either the zabrak will die or Maul—but he will carry this moment in his hearts as long as he lives.

Master will take the padawan and he will kill either Savage or Maul—wait—The padawan! Maul pushes his way out of Savage’s arms and cranes his neck. The padawan is gone. She’s—

“Brother, what is—do you sense danger?” Savage asks, but Maul has no time to think about him now.

The padawan’s gone.

Master will kill him.

Master was going to kill Maul anyway, when he found out that Maul disobeyed and used the force and brought back another zabrak, dark and much stronger than Maul, but now that Maul completely messed up the mission, Master’s going to extra kill him. Going off-script and buying the zabrak was bad enough. Maul can’t lose the padawan, the whole reason for his presence on Nar Shaddaa. He can’t botch the mission. Master is going to kill him, and he’s going to let Maul live by a thread and throw him in bacta just to kill him again. And again. And again.

And still, it’ll be better than what he deserves, because Maul just failed the ancient plans of the Sith.

He failed Master Sidious and he failed Darth Bane and he failed every single other Sith in the long lineage that led to Maul, stupid Maul who let the Jedi escape just because he thought the mission was going well and he was lonely. He failed—

But the Jedi can’t have gone far! Maybe he can salvage this!

“Brother, wait! Don’t leave—” Savage shouts when Maul starts running down the alleyway in the direction away from the slaver palace, but whatever problem he has, if he can’t stop Maul he will have to live with it. This padawan is important for the grand plans of the Sith. Maul will find her, come what may. He will not fail Lord Sidious again.

⁂

Eldra’s almost finished wedging herself into an alcove hidden three meters above the ground in the cul-de-sac of massive windowless skyscrapers—hiding’s the only thing left, there’s no way out—and that’s when the pain comes.

It’s a piercing, shrieking sort of pain; the kind of pain she last felt when her Master sagged atop her, riddled with holes and gurgling her last unkept promises through bloodied lips. It’s mixed with dread, with the certainty of failing the one you wanted to protect. It makes her sob and tremble. It wants to drown her, at once the maelstrom and the tendrils of the beast old beyond time that hides inside. It’s dark. It’s heady power. It’s madness. It’s the pain of an unshielding force user.

It’s the zabrak.

Shit. The zabrak. He provided the distraction that let Eldra get away. He gave his life for hers. Eldra could have lived with that, with knowing he died so she could run. She thought she could, anyway. A good Jedi would have. He was just a slave, a force-sensitive found too late for anyone’s good, a desperately angry and scared young man. Perched on the very edge of the dark side, at best. Fallen, maybe. Too late. She is a Jedi, and she knows that sometimes, a life must be given for the greater good. If someone had to die, maybe it was for the best that it was his life: he’s just a darksider. She has been raised to give her own life, and the zabrak’s a civilian—a slave, a slave just like she is now—but this is the way the world works.

Eldra had to survive, because she must tell the council of the return of the Sith. That’s what matters. A single life is nothing to that, even if the zabrak’s death is agony. The good of the many comes first.

There is no death, there is the force, Eldra mumbles. There is no death. I accepted that he would die, when I ran away instead of helping him take down the Sith. I accepted his death. I must stay calm.

But this isn’t death. This is torture.

What the fuck is the Sith doing to him?

Maybe it will be over soon.

Maybe. Please. Don’t let him suffer too long. Eldra stays sardined in her hideaway, concentrating on not whimpering too loudly and on releasing the secondhand pain into the force, because what else is there to do? She can’t escape. She can’t save him. No-one can. It’s a decade too late for that.

There’s no way out of this dead end, no decent footholds for climbing and even if she managed—there’s no way she won’t get tired, half-way up these hundreds-of-meters tall buildings. Thousands of meters. She can’t guess well right now. She doesn’t remember the last time she ate, though the slavers must have given something to her, and her arms still ache from a day of immobility. Spiritually, she’s weak, too, and even reaching into the force to unlock the damn manacles had almost destroyed her. Had almost made her Fall.

Eldra is terrified. She can’t pretend not to be, can’t meditate it away. She’s scared. She’s angry, at Woobudg and at her Master and at the Jedi and more than anything, at herself. She’s an escaped slave, perched on the brink of the eternal dark—she is no better than the zabrak, and it freezes her heart—and her Master is dead. She can’t use the force. She can’t be a Jedi. There’s no way in fucking hell she can be calm enough for that.

There’s no way out.

The only way is back.

The only way is… how long until the Sith walks into the mouth of her cul-de-sac? How long until he’s finished torturing the zabrak? How long until he comes looking for her?

‘cause that’s the only thing that’ll happen. He’ll get bored eventually, and then he will find Eldra. There’s no way out for her. She’s dead.

She could… okay, she could count on staying hidden, and probably starve to death in her alcove, or be found anyway. There’s no way out of this cul-de-sac, and if he’s watched her run into it, it’s game over. The way her luck’s gone, for the past days, Eldra should definitely be expecting that he saw her. Which… if she goes back out, she might run into his open arms. Or he might be gone, after all.

Or she could help the zabrak. He’s still alive: she can feel his pain.

She shouldn’t, though. The Sith have returned. That’s what matters. Eldra must stay alive and return and bear witness.

⁂

Master will kill me. Master will kill me. There’s no space for anything but this truth, as Maul runs through mazes of skyscrapers in search for the padawan he almost successfully brought back to enact the nebulous ancient plans of the Sith, head pounding and the stuffed satchel bouncing against his back. No space for anything, not even the firestorm of pain that suddenly filled every square meter of asphalt. No time to think about what it means. Whose it is. Master will kill me. I lost her.

(I lost her just because I didn’t want to be alone.)

Master will kill me.

⁂

The zabrak’s only a few meters off the mouth of Eldra’s dead end. Maybe that’s why the echoes of his agony are so strong. The alternative, a juggernaut strength in the force she’s never before seen, only makes his fate more tragic. More wasteful. He could have been found as a baby. He could have become a Jedi. And now he’s lying there, and he is alone, in the very eye of his pain storm.

Alone in a puddle of blood.

Is he dead?

No, he can’t be, Eldra can still feel how much he’s suffering, but he’s—she staggers towards him and stumbles, tumbles down and catches herself with weak and shuddering arms. He’s—she looks and what she fell over was a foot, a sentient being’s actual severed limb, with charred raggedy bone and meat where a shin should be but the rest is intact, as intact as an amputated foot can ever appear, and the yellow and black skin is stark against the grimy floor. It’s the zabrak slave’s foot. She stumbled over his actual real torn-off foot, a few meters from where he’s lying, and she’s covered now in dry and tacky and congealing blood. It’s all over her once-cream padawan robes, and the zabrak’s missing a foot.

An entire foot, just gone. The zabrak’s curled up in agony and his hands are clutching the stump of his left shin.

He looks up, though, when Eldra climbs to her feet. Not unconscious, then, though that would be kinder, and Eldra must find a way to contact the Council about the re-emergence of the Sith, she must remember the bigger picture, but surely, surely, if it’s her duty to warn the galaxy then it’s also her duty to ease the pain of this one person who helped her, as much as she can. She was reprimanded for ignoring the unifying force so often in her education, but surely it would be just as wrong to walk on by. Not even Master Fyaar would have told her to walk on by. She could have, but she’s dead now,Eldra remembers grimly, she died, and I can’t just let her be my conscience anymore.

“Help me,” the zabrak begs.

It’s enough to chase off her absent teachers. Who could leave him to this desperation? Who could ignore this all-consuming tornado of pain?

“I’m not a healer,” Eldra warns, kneeling down next to him. “They steered me away from that, but I can do enough to stop the bleeding, I think.”

The zabrak coughs. No, he laughs, that was meant to be contemptuous painful laughter, and he says, “Not that. I won’t bleed out.”

“There’s an artery in your leg—"

“It was just the first warning. There’s coagulant released after it explodes. I have seen it before. This bomb is not supposed to kill.”

“Bomb?!” But she heard that inside that loathsome palace, she remembers, though she was too terrified to pay close attention—Master Fyaar would have been disappointed again—but the zabrak’s slaver said something about bombs, and a remote, and oh kriff is that what happened?! A slave control bomb blew off his foot? Oh force, they discussed planting bombs inside me, too, Eldra remembers. Default procedure, they said. But they thought it was too expensive for a standard blue twi’lek, and she’d been angry back then but—oh force, oh mercy, she’s so glad she’s not worth much.

“He ran away so quickly I lost him, and then the radius—” he swallows. “It does not matter. I need to find my brother, and I can’t walk. He’s just a child. Please. I need your help.”

A child. A child in danger, and this poor man in pain, in so much pain the very air aches and shivers, and yet—Eldra is a Jedi, and her duty is to the whole galaxy. She must warn the Jedi Council. She doesn’t have time for this. She mumbles, “I’m sorry, but I have to—”

Quick as a viper, the zabrak pushes her down and crawls on top of her. He drives his forearm into her neck and pushes her head down, not with so much force it hurts but a definite threat, a definite herald of… of something, with his muscular naked body pressing against her clothes. Something. Something bad. She doesn’t want to lure it in even by thinking the word now but it’s been the danger all along—and then he growls, “You’re going to help me, understood?”

“I’ll fucking bite off your dick,” Eldra hisses. “Try it. I’ve still got my teeth.”

“You…” The zabrak eases off a little, lifting his whole torso off her with trembling arms though not far away enough that Eldra can get the leverage to fight her way free, and he frowns. Confusion, or thought, but not—not lust. The force swirls less blindingly bright, for a second. He doesn’t look as scary anymore, even though he just easily overpowered Eldra. He also looks really young, when she peers up at him from this close, like he’s maybe one or two years older than her, and his shuddering grows more and more worrisome. “I need to find my brother. Please. He’s just a child.” And then, he shutters his eyes and swallows. His face does a strange thing that looks almost… sultry? Though not appealing at all, not with the sweat and the wide eyes of pain and the fact he’s an actual mutilated terrified Fallen teenage slave. “I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll do anything. Anything. I’m—good. But he’s just a kid.”

Anything, with a cadence like… And he’s basically naked, because someone wanted him that way, and Eldra saw perverts feeling him up back at the market. He’ll do anything. He’s trying to look appealing. Oh force. Oh fuck. “I am a Jedi. A guardian of peace and justice in the galaxy. I’m not a rapist. And you’re not, either—”

He nods, baffled.

“Glad we got that straight. The thing is—I have a very important task to do. The fate of the galaxy might hinge on me talking to the Temple as soon as possible.”

“He’s a just child. A tiny nightbrother child, on Nar Shaddaa.” His grey eyes are feral and pleading. He plainly doesn’t care about duty, or the galaxy, when the price is a child, and it’s growing harder and harder for Eldra not to agree. Master Fyaar, give me strength. Harden me, Master. Let me bear this dreadful hope I can’t fulfill. I mustn’t, I won’t, and yet he keeps arguing, “You’re a twi’lek. You know what that means.”

“I don’t…”

“A zabrak. He’s a zabrak,” and that doesn’t explain anything more to Eldra, but the man—the boy—above her will not leave her be, even when she shakes her head wildly, beseeching, “There’s no such thing as a free zabrak on Nar Shaddaa. As soon as they see him. Please. He’s just a child. He’s just my little baby brother.”

“But I—”

“No such thing as a free tailhead either. You won’t reach the Temple. They’ll just take you back to the slave market.”

“I’m a Jedi. I’ll manage.”

But his tearful eyes turn shrewd. “I have been here for years now,” he whispers. “You’re new. You’ll never find your way around without me,” and fair enough, these streets truly are a maze. “I’m not leaving a nightbrother on Nar Shaddaa. I am not leaving a child here. I am not leaving my brother. But I’ll help you after we find him. It’s your only chance. You can cooperate, or I can abandon you here to get caught again. Your choice.” He tightens his hold on Eldra’s neck.

It’s a hollow threat, and they both know it. The zabrak can’t leave her. He can’t walk, the best he could do is crawl away slowly until someone puts him out of his misery, or, more likely, picks him up and sells him again, as he just predicted for her.

The worst he could do is kill her, and since that wasn’t the threat…

She must warn the Jedi. She must warn the Jedi as quickly as possible, but. A child. He’s begging for the life of a child. And Eldra… No matter how many lectures she got, she never managed to get the unifying force. The big picture. It’s so remote, and it just makes sense, that the certain immediacy of present pain always overshadows the possibilities of the future. In the future, there are the Sith, grim and ancient and the foresworn enemies of the Jedi; but the Sith haven’t yet hurt her. Even the Sith she met hasn’t. He was the least horrible of all of them.

In the present, there are slavers. A whole planet of them. In the even more present, there is the offer of a temporary alliance, made by the one person she’s met in the last few days who doesn’t see her as meat.

She is so tired of being on her own.

“I’m Eldra,” she says. “Let me up, or I won’t be able to carry you.”

Stormy grey eyes turn bright and then they crumple up in pain again when he must’ve accidentally bumped his stump somewhere while he rolls off her. He’s seriously, seriously hurt. Well, of course, Eldra, he just had his foot blown off, she mocks herself. Obviously, she mocks her mocking self back. But we both need to move, so I probably need to carry him, so knowing how much pain he’s in, what movement he has left… that’s useful. And if I could lessen that pain…

Eldra can’t reach for the force while she’s afraid or angry, or she will Fall. But she’s not as scared now. She just wants to help him. That’s not evil, right? How can compassion for a slave be evil? Master never expressly said it was, so surely it can’t be that bad?

“Wait. Let me touch it,” and the zabrak presents his burnt stump without question. “I’m not a good healer. But I think I can… shut up the nerves?”

What the zabrak mumbles in response sounds suspiciously close to Witch, but after the first flinch, he allows her to touch him again, resolutely refusing to shudder though he definitely looks like he wants to, and refusing to tell her what he meant, too. He does look slightly less agonized after she feels her way into his synapses and cells and tells them to heal, heal, and that their warnings are great but no longer needed.

Now she just needs to heave him upright and hold him, somehow, while she walks, so he can hop along.

“How did this leg-be-gone thing happen, anyway?” she asks right before she pulls, because a distraction might make this easier on him.

“He—” The zabrak’s breathing heavily, but not accidentally fighting her or crying or anything else she feared. He’s doing much better than she would in his position, that’s for certain. “My brother. When he ran off, he still had the remote. The bombs trigger when it’s away over a certain distance…”

The remote? The one that the slaver gave the Sith? How— “How did your brother get that remote?!”

“He put it in his satchel. Must have forgotten about it. It’s not his fault.”

Wait.

Satchel.

He put the remote in the satchel.

Is his brother the…

“The Sith?!”

The word means nothing to the zabrak, she can tell. If he recognized it, he would have shuddered in fear and the force around him would turn frigid, because the Sith are the very worst threat in the galaxy, but instead he looks gently confused again and says, “No, he’s a nightbrother. A zabrak. Like me.”

That’s not a hindrance, as far as Eldra knows. There is a Sith species, but towards their fall—and now in their resurrection, presumably—Sith could be of any sentient species in the galaxy. “I meant… Is your brother that tiny person with a mountain of black clothes who bought both of us?”

“Isn’t he clever?” There is nothing on the zabrak’s face but deep adoration. For a second, even his pain seems forgotten. Even the smog clouds seem to have lifted, for a second, but no—that warm breeze. The sudden pure air. That’s the force. The force, lit up by love for this brother, and yet, he’s talking about a Sith. The embodiment of evil. The ancient enemies of the Jedi. It doesn’t make sense. “If they’d seen his species, he would have been captured immediately, but he made the perfect disguise and he fooled all of them!”

The love doesn’t make sense. But even worse… “You are talking about the weirdo in three dress shirts and that handmade leather balaclava and winter sports sunglasses combo?! The tiny ragged black ball?! That’s a perfect disguise?!”

“It worked,” the zabrak replies, as if that’s all the proof he needs. “My brother’s a genius.”

It’s impossible to love a Sith. They don’t feel affection. They can’t; all they process is dark possessive urges and hatred and so on. Maybe Eldra was wrong about the buyer’s aura, though. She’s never met a Sith before, after all, so how should she know what they feel like in the force, and she’s only met a few corrupted force sensitives before too and most of them in the presence of Master Fyaar, who may well have dampened their impression on Eldra… Maybe she was wrong. Maybe there is no Sith here. After all, she can feel the zabrak is dark and Fallen, too, but he’s not a bad person. His life just sucked. Wait. ‘The zabrak’…

Eldra prods his navel with a finger. She’s holding him up by now, his chest half-propped up on her shoulder and head, and it’s as high as she can reach with only minimal danger of dropping him. “You never said your name.”

“Savage,” he says, and hops to catch up to her one step.

“A pleasure to meet you, Sir. I’d bow if I could, but you know…” Eldra grins, and he does too, and it’s… nice? Despite the general horror of, well, everything, this is nicer than anything else that’s happened on the mission so far.

She puts her foot forward again and waits for him to catch up. And again. This will take forever. But the alternatives are all worse. Hopefully the little brother knows how to stay hidden until they manage to steer their three-legged train wreck to… “How are we going to find him? He could be anywhere. You can’t walk, and I can barely keep you upright—”

“He’s close,” Savage says.

“How do you—”

“I wouldn’t be alive if he wasn’t.”

Of course. Eldra feels stupid. How could she have forgotten… “The bombs.”

“Yes. Stop for a…” Eldra braces herself, and he leans against her head, cold and trembling finely. He’s heavy, even though she’s never been the weakest in her age-group by far, both as a twi’lek—not the frailest of species anyway—and because she always feels better when she’s moving. She adjusts her grip on his waist so he doesn’t slip. His hearts beat loudly against her lekku. “Second one’s at two hundred. In the stomach. Takes a while to bleed out, and even if I don’t the sepsis… The last Master took real pleasure in explaining it. Not gone off yet. He can’t be more than two hundred meters away.”

Eldra won’t ask where the fourth bomb is. She won’t. “But in which direction?”

“Not in that dead end.”

“Worked that one out myself,” Eldra snaps.

“So… sorry.” Heavy breathing. “I…”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t—a Jedi would not take their fear out on you,” Eldra whispers. “Okay. Good. Two-hundred meters, that’s manageable. We can do that. We’ll find him.”

A few more steps. Then: “The stomach,” Savage whispers. “It’s—you should probably get your head away. It’s a strong one, I think. You might get hurt when it goes off.”

Great. Her head is right next to a bomb. Got it.

“You’re heavy, Mister. Can’t carry you otherwise.”

“You might be quicker if—if you promise you’ll look for…”

He’s proposing she leave him behind.

“Maybe I’ll lose an eye,” she suggests bravely. “Some massive scarring would be nice. I’ll look so fucking ugly that every fucker who’d fuck me throws the fuck up instead.”

Savage grins, weakly but genuine, as if it’s obvious she’s never been much of an out-loud swearer before. As if he’s gently mocking her. It’s nice, though. It’s nice.

Hop. Walk. Hop.

Savage’s gone quiet, and Eldra pauses and pokes his abs again. “If you pass out, Mister, we’re both screwed. Motherkriffing fucked and utterly pfassking scraggled, even. Cruddlingly fucking boondoggled,” because it made him laugh the last time.

“I am used to pain.”

Eldra doesn’t want to know more. She really doesn’t. If the whirlwind in the force is anything like he’s feeling right now, there’s no way she could’ve been as calm as he seems. Whatever it took for him to learn that separation, that control… “Fine. As long as you’re sure… and it’s not macho posturing that I wouldn’t believe anyway… Hey, do you want a distraction?” It’s always helped her at least, having something small to fiddle with her fingers or turn over in her brain. “You know how I helped your wound with the force just now? You can do that too. You have the—I don’t know how to explain it for beginners, you have those midichlorians in your cells that interact with the force that flows between every living thing,” she prattles on, needing to gasp for breath less and less as the force grows less immediate, “and it’s basically interoception with another sense, healing yourself. You might even—maybe you can feel where the bombs are!”

“I saw them go in. Won’t bleed out for a while anyway, not even when the stomach bomb goes off.”

“No. We are absolutely not doing that, asshole,” Eldra hisses, because she doesn’t like that ‘when’. Why is she even bothering to lug around his heavy body when he acts like it’s a foregone conclusion he’ll die. He’s with a Jedi now. If that means anything at all, it means Eldra’s not going to let some slavers turn him into flesh goo from kilometers away. “There’s a warning before it goes off, right? We’ll walk in the other direction then, get back into the distance you’re allowed to be. You’re not dying on my watch. Just try the healing, okay?”

“I’m a male,” Savage whispers. “I have no magicks.”

“You definitely have midichlorians. I can feel them, you know—I could feel your bomb go off because you’re broadcasting your emotions. You’re doing it now. You’re definitely a force-sensitive.”

“But it’s forbidden!”

“Uh, yeah, probably.” This is something Eldra should have considered. Master Fyaar would have told her right away. Savage’s too old, way too old for Jedi training. He’s Fallen. She can’t just teach him how to access the force. That’s probably as bad as helping a Sith, right? But now she’s unwisely mentioned it, he seems to like the idea.

“Will it help me protect my brother?”

“It will.”

And that’s it. He won’t let her drop the topic, and Eldra can’t really hold out, not when he starts talking again about what could happen to a baby zabrak. Not when she already compromised this far. He’s already Fallen anyway, so what is the harm in teaching him something? It doesn’t matter if he’s able to be careful or not. He won’t Fall. He’s already Fallen.

“The Jedi way won’t work for you because, well—it’s complicated. But there’s something my teacher says, that fear leads to anger, and anger to hate, and hate to suffering, and that’s the path to the dark side. It always sounds really easy to slip down that path, so you’ll probably be able to do it. And get that power. Just promise me you won’t become evil, right? Just a little bit of power, to close your wounds.”

Savage shudders against her lekku. A face swirls before her eyes for a fraction of a second, a memory he probably didn’t mean to spew all over her. “I am afraid. I’ve always been afraid, and angry, and… But I don’t have power.”

“You do. I don’t know how you do it, exactly, for the dark side… They only said not to do it, they never said what not to do. Or how to avoid it, in detail. But it’s about using the force when you’re already feeling awful emotions, and reinforcing them through the force. I think, if I was Falling… I’d feel everything bad, really hard. I’d feel the things that have hurt me and the futures I dread. And then I’d feel the force in everything around me—or inside my body for healing—and I’d just—concentrate.”

“I’ll try.” Savage takes a few more shaking breaths. “Maybe once you put me down? I’m—I’m less afraid, now you’re here. We might have to…”

There’s a gable in the road. Two paths to follow, and if they take the wrong one, the bomb goes off.

“What do we do now?”

“My brother’s still less than two-hundred meters away,” Savage says.

“Should we… shout?” Even as she asks the question, Eldra wants to punch herself. Not so much because it’s a stupid idea—they do need to find the brother quickly and not go down the wrong path, for fear of accidentally triggering the distance-bomb—but because of how quickly she’s fallen into the habit of asking Savage what they should do.

It should be the other way around. She is a Jedi—was, anyway—and Savage’s a slave. Freed, maybe. Probably. Definitely, because he’s been rescued by his brother—by the Sith he’s insisting isn’t one. Eldra has to believe that this probably-not-a-Sith freed him. The fact remains, Savage was just a slave. That’s not a slight to his ability. It’s not a judgment of his worth, or not anymore. It’s just that she was trained for these situations, and Savage… he’s not even that much older than her. Four years, at the total absolute most. He’s barely an adult. She hopes he’s an adult. These slavers surely wouldn’t have paraded him around like that if he… Oh, who is she kidding. They totally would. Might even prefer it, the fucking pigs.

There is no emotion.

Eldra tries to calm herself. It was nigh-on impossible when she was alone, and with Master Fyaar’s guidance she still slipped so often, but now… it’s easier, now she has Savage to carry around. She can focus on the beat of his hearts against her squished bruising lekku, da-dam-da-dam. Da-dam-da-dam. He’s here, in the mouth of a badly lit empty street on Nar Shaddaa. He’s real. So is she.

“—Eldra.” A finger knocking against her head, gently. “Eldra. Listen. Can you fight?”

“Better than you, anyway.” It’s a good idea, though, to be ready. Eldra drags both of them towards one of the buildings and lets Savage slide to the ground where he won’t get in the way. No cover, but this’ll have to do. “Stay here. I’ll shout and if anyone—”

Savage shakes his head. “He’s my brother. He’ll listen to me. And if someone else comes, you can surprise them.”

“You want to sit out here, immobile, and shout for whoever hears it to come to you.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“I don’t.” Eldra takes a deep breath and tries for a last moment of levity. “If the wrong people come, at least your resale value is lower now. You wiped several thousand credits off of Nar Shaddaa’s gross domestic product.”

“I got them where it hurts.”

“Yeah. Last chance to back out,” Eldra says. “Sure? Your funeral.” And it may well be: Savage’s clever enough to know that she probably won’t fight, when a slaver comes. That’s just being realistic. They’ve spent too much time on Nar Shaddaa to still cling to comforting illusions, and a shocked and starving thirteen-year-old has little change against a group of armed slavers, Jedi or not. Instead, this way, there’s a chance any attackers will only notice him, and she’ll be able to flee. It’s broadly the right tactical decision. Savage alone and one-legged could never make it, while Eldra’s at least got the ghost of a chance. She pats his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Could you—”

“I won’t let you die,” Eldra says. “You like my jokes. You’re practically an endangered species.”

Savage laughs softly, and then winces. He’s hit his stump again.

“Sorry. But. I’ll find your brother for you, if you don’t make it. Promise.”

“Thank you.” Savage doesn’t shout just yet, and somehow, Eldra is inordinately grateful for the reprieve. Soon enough, she might have to run. She might lose her only ally. Or she’ll have to fight, and she has no weapon but the force. She’ll Fall. But if she must… If she doesn’t, Savage will die, and she’ll be alone again. If she runs, she’ll die to. She’ll die, because there is no way off this planet for her alone and if she’s found she’ll be enslaved again and she’d rather die. Soon. Any second. Falling or death. Falling or…

“Eldra.” Savage indicates a shadowy corner. “There. Don’t be afraid.”

“I don’t want to die.” It just bursts out, even though she’s meant to be the Jedi, the serene agent of the force. She trained so often and for so long, and yet, she’s terrified of death. There is no death, there is the force, and Master Fyaar would make her meditate on this for hours but she just can’t stop, can’t calm down. She wishes she was still carrying him on her back. That she still felt the solid drum of his hearts.

The response is quiet and deeply gentle. “That’s good. They haven’t taken everything from you yet.”

It’s so much kinder, more understanding, than anything Eldra’s ever thought or heard in her life about her random outbursts. So soft it raises her hackles. “Thanks for the condescension. That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to die. More than anything, I realized. I’ll fight. I’ll use the force if I must.”

It’s almost as if Savage anticipated her anger. He grins. “Don’t be afraid, Eldra.”

“Very funny, asshole. I’m ready now. I’ll go hide, and you shout.”

When she walks away, she hears a mumbled promise, too quiet for most humanoids but still clear for the auditory senses of a twi’lek. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. You told me that trick. I’ll fight anyone who wants to hurt you.”

He can barely hold himself upright. Still, she has no doubt he means it. Asshole.

⁂

Master is going to kill Maul. He’s not found the Jedi, and he should probably have kept running down the street except he wasn’t sure whether it’s the one the Jedi took in the first place, and down in the distance, he could see people, a lot of people, and many houses lit up bright, and the echoes of pain have grown fainter but they’re still there, and he doesn’t know how to interact with these people because he had no time to prepare and what if they’re oily too and Master’s going to kill Maul but the Jedi probably didn’t take this road and so he turns around and runs back.

The pain in the force grows stronger, and soon enough, so does a voice. “Brother, brother!” it shouts.

Maul has half a mind to turn around again because it’s the zabrak probably, the zabrak that Maul wanted to be his friend and that he ruined the whole mission for, and he doesn’t have time to stop, but Savage’s stronger than Maul so he might make Maul stop anyway—but he already turned back once and he can’t go back. (He can’t turn around without admitting it’s only because he’s scared.)

“Brother, brother,” and it is Savage sitting down on the ground, and Maul cranes his neck for a good path to slip by him and there’s the Jedi, the yellow zabrak brought him the Jedi, Savage saved him from Master’s wrath, he fulfilled the sacred mission, but as quickly as the old mantra drains from his mind a new one takes its place.

The zabrak’s left leg just stops slightly below the knee. No, it doesn’t, there’s an edge of charred bone peeking out and Maul knows what happened, suddenly, he remembers the slaver—"four explosive charges within your zabrak, set to go off at staggered distances. The first one will slow him down if he runs.”—he remembers the zabrak’s alarm when Maul ran away—“Wait for me, brother! The bomb will explode!”—he remembers the pain, the endless pain exploding in the force

And he remembers the hand carefully stroking his head.

Seeing the first person in the world who is like him.

He staggers and—

“Don’t be afraid, brother.”

He gets within striking range and—

(this is a trap this is a trap)

“Come here, it’s okay.”

He kneels down next to Savage, eyes screwed shut, and he waits for the punishment to come. He waits.

“It’s okay, little brother.”

It isn’t, though. The leg is gone. The leg is gone because of Maul. It’s gone because Maul forgot about the remote and because he almost lost the padawan and because Maul was stupid enough to buy the zabrak in the first place. Maul maimed the one single person in the galaxy who ever might have liked him.