#how is always making sure Daisy is resting and healing?

[indi-ice-cube]

So, like, imagine if Milo and Sam had a great-grand-child.

That's Agent Daniel Sousa from Season 7 of AoS.

(credit to Secrxts; not my video)

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 5

<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi, Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 6.3k

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.

Authors note: do note there will be the use of prong collars in this. Just like all the other fucked up stuff in this, i don't support that irl, but this is fiction. On a different note, it will probably be at least a week before I can give you another chapter lol, shit is happening, my sinners and im holding on. Also thank u to all the nice asks and comments ive been sent. means a lot <33. ENJOY!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You could only stay in the farmhouse for so long; even though you desperately wanted to stay inside, Price dragged you outside, talking about fresh air and enjoying nature. 

To you it was nothing but lies and the smell of animal shit.

There were no pavements, no cars flashing by, no advertisements or shops, no scents of food or sweets trying to lure you in. There were no hybrid clothes shops, where John would play dress up with you for his next party. Show him how the lingerie set he picked out looked against your tail.

He would make sure your nails were always perfect and manicured. Without the claws, he made sure you knew you were loved anyways, your nails adorned with expensive nail polish and gemstones. Anything that his Daisy, his princess, his darling, his puppy wanted, she always got.

Now you were here, following him into the stables, to see how far Nikolai - who had forced himself into your life - was with the tractor.

Warily looking out for the hybrids, staying close to your owner.

The stitches were gone and everything was healed all nicely - that didn’t mean that you wanted to start over and get more bites that would need stitches. Once was enough. Hopefully Price and Nikolai understood that too.

Also, you didn’t want to get fucked dumb by those mutts again; they didn’t deserve your pussy. Especially not Ghost or Gaz. Not really Soap either, he had just been nice because he had to. You were sure. They were nothing but stupid working dogs, who didn’t know how to behave.

Your owner, John Price, looked in love; he was watching Nik just as much as he was watching the tractor. The stress that had sometimes followed him home when you lived in the city was no longer visible. It had left his bones, made him happy and pliable, clearly blossoming in his new role as a farmer. You loved him but what the fuck were you supposed to do with this whole situation? Pretend to be happy?

You were a pet, so it wasn’t like you had any options. And your attempts at persuading him to move back to the city hadn’t gone well. Resisting your ever present urge to let him fuck you, would probably not do you any good. Earn you a spanking from both him and Nikolai. They might even throw you to the hounds.

One of those said hounds were getting closer to you, the hybrid making you tense up a little.

“You’re looking good, princess,” Gaz said casually, shooting you an awfully charming smile, his tail wagging while you tipped your ears backwards instead of replying.

“Feeling better?”

You didn’t reply, merely stared at the tractor, boring as it was. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away. He stepped closer to you, his dark gaze resting on you, while you stepped closer to John, growling as a warning.

“Behave,” Price said over his shoulder, clearly more interested in that Russian man of his, than your safety.

It only took another step and Gaz’s teeth a tad too close to you, to send you bolting out. Back inside it was then, you concluded, enough farming bullshit for today.

Only to meet Ghost in the way, his scarred face grinning smugly, ears tipping towards you.

“‘Ello pup.”

Nah, you weren’t fucking with that today. You managed to see the shadow of Soap before you bolted again.

Running still wasn’t your best talent; so though you knew it was stupid, you decided to do what you weren’t allowed to anyways. You crawled the wooden fence, ignoring the male hybrids' shouts and barks — as well as the fence’s slight squeak - and landed on the other side with a grunt. 

The corns were tall and you took a breath, looking over your shoulder, only to see a worried looking Soap being the closest.

He let out a concerned whimper.

“Dinnae lass,” he warned, a softness in his voice that you recognized from your moments inside.

You would deal with the consequences and the punishment that Price would give you for leaving the ground. It was better than getting your shoulders bitten to pieces - so you got up and rushed into the tall corn field. Abandoning the male hybrids.

Stupid. They were all stupid.

Maybe this should be your new go-to hiding spot. You could hear them bark aggressively but not getting nearer. They weren’t allowed to leave either. You felt your chest swell a little with pride over the idea. You wouldn't be gone for long, just until they lost interest in you.

It was several seconds before you stopped, panting with your tongue out. You couldn’t see the fence or the farm from all the corn by now, which finally meant some peace. Your tail wagged and your body relaxed, a soft wind playing with your fur for a moment, making the corn move around you, like waves in the ocean.

However, that peace didn’t last long.

“My my,” the voice almost appeared out of nowhere and you turned slowly, unsure but still afraid of what you would see, “what are you doing here, perrita? On my property?”

You knew Alejandro and Rodolfo had gotten a hybrid, but you had been too swept up in your own nightmare to ask about her; now, as she towered above you, seeming more wolf than dog, you would rather have one of the mutts on your own farm. A scared little whimper escaped you.

“You must be Price’s precious lapdog, no?” She asked, slowly moving in between the corn with ease, as she circled around you, fear making you stay still, “a little city puppy, forced to be out on a farm. How sad.”

There was no trace of sympathy in her voice. It took you a moment to swallow some spit and another moment to take a proper breath.

“I’ll go home again, I’m sorry.” You tried your best to seem submissive, leaning forward a little, tail tugged along your leg. You at least had your owner at the farm - but here? Here, with this new, wolf-like hybrid, you didn't have anyone. You weren’t even supposed to be here, weren’t allowed. Sure, you knew Alejandro and Rudy, but they also knew you weren’t supposed to be there.

“Hmmm,” she answered in a rumble, licking her teeth slowly, casually showing off her fangs, “what’s your name, perrita?”

She screamed danger. Her energy screamed ‘I can make worse wounds than them’ and you certainly didn’t feel like testing that. In fact, you would rather get as much distance between you and her as possible.

“D-Daisy.” It was the name Price had chosen, not that you were really called it. But you weren’t going to tell this hybrid woman who looked like she could swallow you whole, that you were usually called princess, pretty girl, puppy or sweetheart.

“I’m Valeria,” she replied, finally stopping her circling, only to step closer to you. She wasn’t really that tall, but her energy was as if she was,  she had strong arms and legs; scars littered her too, her hair short, ears big and tipped forward without a care in the world. Her collar was thick and sturdy, opposed to your own fancy one.

You almost wanted to point out that yours was prettier. That you were a lapdog, not one of the working ones, that you were not made to be played rough with. That you were no threat.

You could hear barking in the distance. Voices calling out for you. Even though you hadn’t met Valeria for more than a minute, you already knew you wanted to get a good distance between you and her.

“Uh nice to meet you, but I better get back home, sorry-“ you turned around quickly but before you could even think to bolt, strong arms were around you and the other dog hybrid pulled you close to her chest.

“Eres tan linda e ingenua,” she almost lovingly growled into your ear, and while you didn’t understand what she was saying, you were much more distracted by her tongue. She licked your cheek a couple of times, slow and wet strokes; you got the feeling that she might eat you raw without regret and you twisted a little in her grip, letting out a louder growl. She laughed, one of her hands pawing at your tit, claws sinking into the fabric. She smelled of danger and lust; like the mutts at home when they first got their dirty paws on you.

“I’m gonna enjoy me—“

“VALERIA!” Her name echoed through the fields, making both of you freeze. Like a warning rushing in between the corns, her name couldn’t be ignored.

She growled deeply, seeming annoyed with the disturbance, while you wanted to kiss whoever of your neighbors it was. She rolled her hips, humping your ass twice, before she was interrupted again.

“Valeria!” It was Alejandro, you realised then, who yelled once again, “ sé que la tienes! Let her go!”

With one deep sniff of you, while you whimpered, the wolf-looking hybrid finally let go of you.

“I won’t be as nice next time, perrita - now go, before I change my mind and take you from your boys.”

You didn’t need to be told that again and didn’t want to argue that they weren’t your boys - the moment she let go, you bolted towards the way you came. 

How they knew that she had gotten a hold of you wasn't clear, but it wasn’t like you were gonna turn around and ask Alejandro or Rudy.

The answer came to you anyways; one angry looking John Price stood with crossed arms, phone in hand. A grinning Nikolai next to him and three growling hybrids moving back and forth along the men and the fence. Every single one of them stilled and stared at you as you sheepishly walked to the fence, tail between your legs and ears tipped down.

You stood, just for a moment, with the fence in between you and the others. Considering staying there, as if that would be a good solution.

“Get your arse over here,” Price snapped, his voice stern and dark, as he put his phone in his pocket, marching towards you. 

You hastily and in a rather inexperienced manner, climbed the fence and got to the right side. Instantly, tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a whimper, almost ready to tell about the horrors you had just been through - only to bark loudly at the hybrids as they all charged towards you, hands touching you, only stopped by a sharp whistle. 

“Nyet,” Nikolai called harshly, “off her. Now.”

Soap and Gaz instantly let go, stepping back as John reached you, but Ghost didn’t move. His hand rested on your neck, pressing your collar against your skin, his nose almost fully pressed against your temple. 

“Let go.” Price’s voice was sharp and you let out a little whimper- not sure who of them you would rather deal with right now.

“She smells wrong,” Ghost replied, not moving, but his voice not as harsh as it could be, “smell of her.”

Her. You didn’t know whether Valeria would be in trouble over this or not. You had been the one to step into her territory anyways. She wasn't the one who had jumped a fence after all.

“We will fix that.” 

Ghost let out a grumble but after two seconds of staring at each other, the hybrid finally let go of you, earning himself a swift “Good boy.” 

Then Price grabbed into the ring in your collar and pulled, ignoring how you instantly broke into tears, excuses and explanations spilling from your lips like a waterfall, desperate to avoid punishment. You didn't want to stay with Valeria, but you didn’t want this either.

You were dragged past Nikolai who shared a short glance with Price - and they gave each other a short nod.

“C’mon boys,” Nikolai then called, the hybrids instantly moving to him, even though you could feel them staring at you, “we’re gonna join them.”

They were what? You cried harder, tugging at John’s arm, your owner ignoring your pleads and cries.

“I’m sorry sir, I got scared, I didn’t mean to run away,” you babbled, every second word followed by a small sob or whine, tail between your lets, almost making it hard to walk normally, “ they scared me, I was gonna come back, I’ll be good sir, I’ll behave! I wasn’t running away!”

There was no mercy from your owner, who just marched you towards the farmhouse that had almost become home by now.

If someone had told you a year ago that you would be a dog on a farm by now, surrounded by working hybrids, you would have laughed in their face. Loudly and impolitely.

You? Pretty lapdog living in the city out on a farm?

You weren’t even at the house yet, somehow crying harder because you felt so sorry for yourself in general. You were such a perfect lapdog, such a perfect being, forced to be out here, in the cold countryside. A tragedy.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The prong collars looked like they would choke too and you wanted to scream merely at the sight.

“I’m not running the risk of having my darling all bitten to pieces again - this will hopefully help you to remember.”

None of them seemed too happy about it; you couldn’t blame them, you wouldn’t want those either, but you were horrified by the idea of getting bitten as harshly as they did last time. If both Price and Nik hadn’t been there, you doubted it would be possible to get the collars on them.

You were still crying yourself, from the shame of having jumped over the fence and creating chaos, only resulting in this.

The moment they were allowed, they were on you, ignoring your whimpering and fingers trying to push them off - Soap was the nicest, helping you get your clothes off instead of letting the others rip them, even if all of them were obsessed with your smell. Or well, with how you smelled of Valeria to be exact.

Soap licked your cheek and you growled at him, tipping your ears back, trying to push him away, fingers against his chest; but he didn’t move, only pressed himself closer, growling back to prove he was stronger than you - that you were supposed to be submitting to him.

“They shouldn’t be this aggressive,” you heard Price point out to Nikolai, but you were too distracted by Soap grinding his still clothed crotch against your poor, exposed cunt - you whined his name, but he didn’t stop. 

“Gonn’ mark ye, hen,” he promised in a murmur, teeth sinking into your jaw for just a moment - a warning tug in the leash made him let go almost instantly, instead licking the spot a couple of times, “gonn’ make ye smell all bonnie again.”

Both Gaz and Ghost were barking, but they were both held by the collars by Price and Nik, kneeling next to them, clearly antsy.

“-are working dogs-” it was hard to hear them, over your own mind buzzing so much, over the barks and the pleasure that you hated, “-hierachy is importa-”, one of Soap’s hands disappeared and a moment later, you heard his fly get tugged down, “show them where the line is, so–”

You howled in a high pitched tone as he forced his cock inside you, making you twist and try to push Soap okay. The stretch was intense, burning despite how wet you felt. “It's okay, bonnie lass,” Soap growled, forcing his cock a little deeper into you, nosing at your shoulder, near one of your scent glands, his hands moving to grab onto your thighs, “we’re nae gonna hurt ye.”

You both knew it was a lie - but you at least trusted Soap a little more than the two other mutts who were watching, knowing he could control himself. They were barely able to sit still, tongues out, almost drooling, while their eyes were dark in a way that reminded you of that time in the shed.

He forced his cock deeper, the knot finally reaching the opening of your poor, stretched cunt and you let out a sound at the fear of it sliding inside you. The scent of Soap was already beginning to overwhelm the scent that Valeria had left behind against your will - a part of you wished you had fought her more, had attempted to hurt her more.

The cry that left you was pained and afraid - his fangs almost having forced its way through your skin; you were only saved by John, who pulled Soap back by the collar, the prongs digging into the hybrid’s skin.

“Behave, boy,” John snarled while a mixture of a whine and a growl left Soap, as he helplessly pawed at the collar, “No breaking skin - already told you.”

“‘m sorry, sorry,” he promised, a pained tone to his voice, “dinnae mean tae.”

You doubted it was true; there was a darkness in the air despite the way your owner tried handling them.

He was let go off and the moment the prongs didn’t painfully dig into his skin, he was on you again, tongue on the indent he had left, his cock pressed into you again, his tail wagging.

“‘m sorry,” he barely managed to say in between his licks and moans, before his hands were back on you, his moaning louder, as he ignored your whines of slowing down. Your own hands grabbed onto his mohawk and ears, but the hybrid did nothing but moan even louder, moving his hips a little upwards and fuck - he hit the perfect spot, grinning like a feral hound when he noticed and heard your sounds.

You came against your will, crying out and spasming around him, his hands grabbing harder onto your thighs, claws teasing the skin.

He was panting and moaning like a hound, mounting you like there was nothing in his mind but the feeling of your cunt.

“Gonna fill ye up,” Soap promised, words barely escaping his mouth, drool dripping down on you; not like you cared, too gone yourself to really do so.

“DON'T knot her,” Price’s word cut through the air like a sharp knife, slicing into your mind; you wanted him to knot you, a part of you realized, no you needed him too - while another screamed in delight of not having to be stuck to him.

“Nnngh,” his hips were going so fast it almost hurt as they clashed against your skin, “please sir, please plea—“

“No.”

The hand that appeared made you shudder - and then a second later, Soap came, almost a guttural scream leaving him; you could feel Price’s fingers near your cock, stopping him from sliding his knot into you. 

“Later,” Price answered, then pulling Soap back by the collar and hair, your own hands slipping easily from him, “we don’t have the time to wait for all of you to knot her right now.”

The moment he was pulled away, you moved, whimpering and curling to the side, wincing as cum slid out from your pussy; it wasn’t John’s, you wanted it to be your owners. You barely had time to breathe before Nik released one of the others. Gaz pushed you onto your stomach - one hand on your neck to keep you down as you snarled.

“Wait,” you barked, ears tipping down “lemme breathe, for fucks sake—“

“Need you, puppy,” Gaz merely replied, grabbing onto your collar and tugging, his other hand pulling on your tail, ignoring your yelp, “gonna make it all okay again.”

“Nothing happened-“ you snarled, trying to make him let go, but you separately rose to your knees in order to levitate the pressure on your tail.

“Why did you smell like her then, huh?” He all but snarled, finally letting go of your collar, to push down his own pants, “stinking of her lust!”

You tried twisting to grip onto his ears to tug at them, hoping it would make him let go of you but he merely let go of you fully for a moment - your wrists were caught by his hands and he slammed them against the wooden floor.

“Be nice, собака,” Nik warned him, “I’m in no mood for broken bones.”

You barely heard him nor Gaz’ aggressive reply; you were too busy, having a realization. 

They were jealous ; you weren’t sure why it had taken you so fucking long to realize. The three mutts were jealous somebody else, somebody they didn’t know, had touched you and hadn’t you been so fucking upset, you might have laughed.

Instead, you felt a cock forcing its way into your cunt, making you howl in pleasure against your will; the slide was easier this time as Gaz fucked you, as you were already wet from the round with Soap - and now with his cum as well, Gaz fucked you almost smoothly. If not more aggressively than Soap had.

It didn’t take long before his teeth sank into your skin, the first two seconds it was nothing more than an extra grip, his cock roughly thrusting into you as if attempting to move your organs, his drool sliding along your skin, mixing with your sweat. His claws were digging into your skin slightly, but even more into the floor - while you were a mess, panting and attempting to growl in between your pathetic moans, barely able to see straight.

The pressure he bit you with changed quickly however and suddenly you were whining in pain, so loudly that you almost didn’t recognize your own voice.

Apparently Gaz had tried to bite Price in aggression over being ripped away from ‘his bitch’ as Nik called it, and you heard the harsh words and slaps, while you sank down a little, your tits pressed against the cold floor, your cunt empty. 

He was back as soon as he disappeared though, pulling you up again, only to almost instantly try to bite you again – halfway pulled away once more. You looked over your shoulder, seeing how the prong collar dug into his skin for a short moment until Price let go of him again.

The moment he was back, you turned however, using the moment to grab onto one of his long, dark ears and tug; it was almost a squeal that left Gaz and you heard both the hybrids bark and growl, Nik saying something – but it was the harsh spank from the leather leash that made you loosen your grip. 

“Behave, Princess,” John was squatting down next to you, strong hand on your pretty collar; it stood out so violently when compared to the others’ current prong collars, “or I’ll get you a collar too.”

“They’re mean!” you whimpered, giving him your best puppy eyes, before sending Gaz an angry look, as he was barely held back by John.

“Well you’re not quite playing nice either, eh?” There was a slight amusement in his voice but you didn’t get to comment on it, before he moved again.

Price gave Gaz more leash and the hybrid was instantly on you again, but this time Price didn’t let go of the metal ring in your own collar, keeping you in place, as if to remind you to behave; to remember he was right here, calling the shots.

“Yeah, Princess,” Gaz mocked, pushing into your cunt again with a moan, the movement in his hips exposing the fact that he was wagging his tail, “Behave.”

“Shut up!” you hissed angrily, a tug in the collar reminding you that Price was right there. 

Gaz’ hands were mostly on your hips - he nuzzled against your back and neck, licking your shoulders and in between your shoulder blades - he bit you a couple of times, but they were barely anything more than nips, a gentle tug on his collar reminding him to behave.

Then one of his hands moved, almost catching you off guard and making you whimper - it slid beneath your stomach, pawing at it for a moment, before it found its way to your cunt where the two of you were still connected, his thrusts still hard; he touched your clit without hesitation, snarling out words you could barely recognize. Mercilessly forcing you towards another orgasm.

Price let go of your collar and you let your head slumber down against the floor, wincing at the small pool of drool that had been created, hating how you pushed back against Gaz, the dual pleasure of his cock hitting that right spot and the fingers on your clit, so good you could barely breathe.

You barely heard Price’s command of not knotting you, from the mere tsunami of pleasure that overtook your body as you came, a howl that barely made any sound, snapping of your teeth and the pawing at the floor. You tightened around his cock, the knot having been so close, oh so close to being forced into your over oversensitive cunt - but then it was pulled out of you, almost making you sob.

Cum spurted on top of your lower back and ass cheeks, before Gaz willingly went - you could hear the almost instant sound of him and Soap making out with each other. And there was only one person back, which meant you had to go now.

A hand grabbed onto your ankle, dragging you backwards as you managed to crawl forwards a few steps - you turned around, back on the floor, raising your opposite leg to kick Ghost in the face, but the other hybrid caught it easily; grinning at you, almost feral-like, lust heavy in the air. Sometimes you forgot they had been in the military for so long.

Leather connected to your skin once more, this time on your raised thigh, a whine leaving you, your eyes flickering to look up at John who stood with the leash curled in his hand, ready to spank you with it once more.

“behave,” John hissed at you, while Ghost chuckled. Idiot.

You didn’t have much time to argue, Ghost letting go of your ankles, just to grab onto your thighs and pull you closer; he was kneeling, almost pulling you into his lap, that feral grin still there, fangs exposed.

He leant over you much quicker than you had anticipated, ignoring your growling and snapping with teeth - one hand resting next to your head, the other pulling down his boxers, pants already open.

Was his cock this big last time? It was like you couldn’t remember the last time right now, you could barely think, in fact, your mind was overwhelmed with so many things. Pleasure, oversensitivity, pain and anger - his dick seemed inhumanely long.

“Not so snappy now, huh?” he crooned, voice low, his free hand grabbing onto your plush thigh, fingers digging into the fat, ears tipped towards you as he spoke, “cockdumb already?”

“nnngh,” you tried pushing at his clothed chest, twisting in his grip, but it was no use; it was like the cock inside you kept you from doing anything. Somehow you managed a small “shutup” and that was enough to set Ghost going.

“Gonna teach you to not go whoring again,” Ghost snarled against your skin, tongue sloppily leaving a wet trail of spit over one of your bouncing tits, simply ignoring your hands trying to push his face out of the way, a plethora of moans and small yaps leaving you as he didn’t stop fucking you with that monster cock of his. You knew you were being watched, both by your owner and his boyfriend, as well as the two other hybrids, it only added to the humiliation of being turned on.

“Belong to us,” his words were barely audible as he growled them, the wet sounds and rustling of his clothes seeming to overtake it, “not her.”

“I won’t, won’t go, won–” you were barely aware of the words slipping from your lips, the volume rising as you felt his teeth scrape against a spot on your shoulder over your right breast, “nonon, please, I wont–”

“Ghost–” Price’s warning was stern, the little tug in the prong collar making him grumble, licking over the spot a couple of times - your eyes met. 

Ghost’s eyes almost seemed like they wanted to own you too; as if it was no longer John who you bowed to, but the pack that you didn’t want, on a farm you didn’t want to be. His thrusts quickened and then his eyelids lowered together with his head – biting down into your skin.

Despite his fast attempt at breaking your skin, mauling your flesh into his, Price was quicker – pulling him back by the collar. He held an extra grip on his hair and you managed to look up, see through the tears.

It was like there was a flood in your ears, Price looking mad, Ghost’s ears tipping backwards as he spoke.

Fighting to get some air into your lungs, you panted and tried wiggling free. Ghost’s fingers merely dug deeper into your plush thigh even though he was currently pulled back by the prong collar, the tips of his claws pressing against your skin as a warning.

The moment he let go, Ghost was back at it, staring down at you with a dark smile, grunts and small moans even leaving him. It took a couple of moments before Price let him have enough leash to bend down over you again and this time Ghost growled into your ears instead of your skin. Licking your furry ears while you whimpered at the feeling and the words.

They owned you; were going to breed you, use you, keep Valeria away, and do whatever they needed to keep you. You were theirs. The moment you let us, he had panted, we will love you.

There was an odd feeling in your stomach, almost as if you were going to piss yourself, but with no mercy from any of the men, one of your hands dug into his short hair and the other grabbed onto his shoulder as you screamed.

It had been a while since you squirted and it took you by surprise, just as it did the others. There were several barks, voices but then Ghost was fucking you even harder than before, bordering on painful, forcing his mouth against yours. You came a second time, this time not squirting but it almost felt more intense.

Ghost came just a moment later, perhaps caught by surprise himself, but he made sure not to knot you. 

The world was spinning around you. There were teardrops in your lashes as you squinted up at the hybrid, who was still pushed inside you. Price’s hand petting him shortly on the head before pulling him back.

There was speech but you barely noticed - then strong hands pulled you up into a lap. The overpowering scent of leather and oil told you who it was and despite your slight hate for Nik, your tail wagged as he pulled you into his arms, cooing at you.

“Such a strong puppy,” he praised, one of his hands drying away some of your drool, caressing your cheek as he sat on the floor with you on his lap, cum no doubt dripping onto his clothes, “you deserve treat for being so good, da?”

Compared to the first time you had met Nikolai, you didn’t want to bite his hand anymore - he clearly didn’t fear you doing so either. You snuggled into his hand, nodding as you squinted up at him, a  small “uh-huh” leaving you.

His hand disappeared and then there was a faint rustling of plastic - even without seeing it, you smelled it. It was that mouthwatering scent that made you weak in your knees that first time and your nose instantly sniffed, almost trying to sit up further to get a look of where it was - to get it before the boys did. Nikolai laughed, letting out a “there you go, milaya,” letting you grab the piece of jerky from his finger, instantly sinking your teeth into it with a pleased sigh. Your tail wagging a little again as you heard Soap whining over not getting a piece.

You even had to take a bath with them afterwards. Your life was officially over - you made sure to tell Price that, who just huffed and rolled his eyes. Sure, you weren’t the biggest fan of showers, but you wanted the cum off and you wanted a bath in the tub… alone. That was your thing.

“- ‘nd they’re gonna use up my shampoo and my conditioner -” you continued overdramatically as Nik carried you in front of John, the russian man merely snorting at your pitiful complaining. 

“We’ll buy more-” John tried to point out, but to no avail, life might as well be over for you right now.

“- ‘nd my brushes - all my nice brushes!”

“I will be sure tae use yers, Mo ghràdh,” Soap happily proclaimed, sending you a wink, fully naked as he was, his usual collar back on, small red marks on his neck from where the prongs had been, “I will use theim the wrong way. Just fer ye.”

Gaz snickered and even Ghost let out a chuckle.

“Jooohn,” you whined, only struggling a little as Nik sat you down in the tub, the water already nice and warm, your poor body having needed this, “I’m gonna need new brushes.”

“I doubt that, Princess,” he cooed, petting your hair, “Now who wants to join in th–”

Soap was in the tub, sliding in behind you before John could even finish his question, happily ignoring your pout and growl.

“Dinnae be like that,” he crooned, ��where is yer special shampoo?”

This day had been awful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Princess.”

You almost jumped as the voice called for you and you turned, squinting slightly in suspicion at the sight. Gaz stood in the doorway, all calmly, looking at you, playing a little with his gloves. He didn’t look aggressive and didn’t smell turned on; in fact, he looked pretty harmless, his tail wagging ever so slightly, ears turning towards you and an almost shy smile.

“What?” you asked, sitting up in the dog bed, crossing your arms, not caring about sounding nice, looking him over for a moment before adding, “you’re dragging in mud.”

He looked down at his shoes, letting out a little ‘oh’. They weren’t really supposed to be in here, so you didn’t really understand why Gaz stood there. You didn’t really care either.

The other might be beautiful, but he was still not one of your favorite people. 

“I - want to show you something,” he finally said, one of his charming smile appearing, though it was a little more careful this time, “Soap said you would probably like it.”

“What is it?” You didn’t sound too impressed.

“It's a surprise,” he smiled a little more.

“If it's your knots, then you can–”

“Jeez,” he rolled his eyes, as if they weren’t fucking you silly on the livingroom floor the other day, “it’s not. Nothing like that.”

“Promise?”

“I do,” he answered, wagging a little more than before, “Swear on my tail.”

"Hm. Where is it?”

“In the barn.”

You scrunched your nose at the mention of the barn, the idea of being stamped to death by a horse already scaring you.

“It’s nothing scary - I wouldn’t bring you if it was.”

You let out a sigh, before getting up - he went to the hallway again and you followed, stealing one of John’s jackets as well as a pair of his boots, before following Gaz outside. 

“Some air would do you good once in a while, ya’ know,” Gaz said after a few moments, “we’re not that bad all of the time, Princess.”

You huffed, wondering for a moment if you should just turn around and go back. “You haven’t really proved me otherwise.”

He let out a hum that almost sounded agreeable but opened one of the doors to the barn, ushering you inside.

“It’s all good, I promise,” he said once more and you reminded yourself, that if he tricked you, you were going to snap off his tail. Pretty as it was.

He steered you to a booth where you noticed the heat lamp at first, more than anything else - but then you saw them, letting out a little gasp.

Tiny baby goats, all snuggled together in the hay beneath the lamp. A few of the mothers stood nearby and one of them came to the door of the booth, sniffing at Gaz’ hand, before letting out a bleat - then turning around again.

“They’re adorable,” you whispered, looking back at the babies, some of them looking at you, others sleeping with no worries in the world. 

“Aren’t they?” Gaz asked with a smile, “They were born yesterday night. Come.”

You let out a scared sound as Gaz opened the door to the booth.

“Won’t the mothers attack us?” you didn’t like how Gaz chuckled to your genuine, fearful question but he shook his head.

“Nah, me ‘nd the others hang out with the animals all the time.” He explained, petting one of the mothers who came to greet him for a moment.

It was cute. You had to admit that, even with your limited love of the farm animals.

“But I don’t.” you pointed out, still standing in the door of the booth, afraid to step into the hay and join the other as he sat down next to the baby goats.

“No, but the mothers know I won’t let a predator near,” he explained gently, “Not at daytime and not during the night.”

“Oh.”

There was something special over this that you could not explain. You didn’t want to explain it. You sat down next to Gaz as he patted the spot, still a little unsure about the momma goats - but none of them battered an eye as Gaz took your hand and made you gently pet one of the babies.

“They’re so tiny,” you whispered, almost to yourself, for once not hating or fearing Gaz. At least for right now, you were just in a moment together with him, doing something that you hadn’t expected would be that nice.

[m30wk1ttycat]

newt, newt x reader headcanons!!

newt, who is a sucker for any type of pet name, or just a nickname. sweet boy, darling, love, newtie - whatever it is, he's melting the second it comes out of your mouth.

he feels like his heart skips a beat whenever you kiss his forehead or just dote on him. blushy boy newt!! he's so adorable when he blushes. denying whatever you're saying, he's looking the other way when you point it out just to tease him. but he knows - and you do, too - that he's so obviously red like a strawberry.

you're never getting rid of him if you offer to cuddle. he's especially clingy in the morning, right after he wakes up - or, in some cases, when he stays up all night, and is grumpy because he couldn't rest, which somehow makes him even clingier.

newt would have a horrible sleep schedule, with all the work, as the second-in-command. like mentioned before, he's cranky when he doesn't get enough sleep.

newt loves it when you play with his hair. it's just something about how gentle you're being, it's making him feel so safe, so cared for.

he gets so embarrassed when his voice cracks. it's adorable, hearing the oh so cool and strong second-in-command's scratchy voice in the mornings or when he'd get sick, but he personally hates it.

daisies are his favourite flower, either to keep or give.

newt, since he's a track-hoe, always makes sure to bring you something from the gardens - flowers, fruit, veggies, anything he can plant and give to you. newt x runner!reader headcanons

newt would hate that you're a runner. he, as a former runner, despises alby for making you a runner. he hates it, he really does, even though he knows you're capable of running in the maze for hours, without getting hurt, he still can't help but worry. he'd watch the maze from afar, waiting for you to come back with the other runners. he doesn't believe in god or isn't religious in any way, but he's still praying for you to make it out safely.

he'd hug you tightly, and make sure you're okay after your run. if you got hurt, he'd help you to the med-jack's hut, and then take care of you. newt x med-jack!reader headcanons

newt would find a way to visit you, even if he was supposed to be working in the gardens.

either offering to walk a track-hoe that got hurt, or him being the one that was hurt, specifically asking for you to tend to him. not that he didn't trust the other two med-jacks, but he prefered you to take care of his injuries, so he could talk to you.

when you'd hear jeff or clint tell you that newt was here, you'd always get worried. why? because you still haven't forgotten the 'accident' in the maze when he broke his leg. you were the one who patched him up, after all. mind racing, you secretly hoped he didn't attempt again, because then you wouldn't know how to react. would you forgive yourself? would you not? (i'm so sorry!!)

thankfully - sort of -, newt was only feeling unwell, or just had a minor injury that would heal in a week or two.

he'd praise about how you're so smart when you wouldn't hesitate to answer a medical question. newt would then ask you about your day as you tend to him, watching you or your work.

this is short, i know - i'll add more stuff, i swear!!

[diazsdimples]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

I'm getting to everyone's snippets tonight, I promise! I'm a few days behind cause lectures have just started up again 😬 tagged for Tuesday by @thewolvesof1998 and @elvensorceress thank you friends 🫶. Also I'm updating my taglist for the first time ever so please interact with this post if you want to be on it!

Figured I should probably get cracking on my 7x06 spec fic before the episode comes out so please enjoy a bit of Buck getting roasted by his best friend and boyfriend.

Eddie frowns, looking a little confused. “I thought you guys were all good?” “We are,” Buck replies, his eyes never leaving his parents as he watches them greet guests, both looking the brightest and bubbliest he’s seen them in years. From afar he’s sure they look like a regular, happy older couple enjoying their daughter’s wedding, but Buck can’t hide the way seeing them still makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Tommy snorts beside him, bringing him back to reality. “Except Evan decided it was a good idea not to mention me until today” Eddie does a little double take, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Wait, you haven’t told them yet?” “I’m gonna go find Denny,” Christopher announces, bored of listening to the adults. “Is that okay, Dad?” “Yeah, of course bud. See you in a bit,” Eddie says, ruffling Christopher’s hair. The three of them watch as he shoots off, making his way towards Hen, Karen and Denny as fast as his legs can carry him. When he’s safely out of earshot, Eddie rounds on Buck again, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Seriously, Buck, in what world did you think springing this on them today was a good idea?” “That’s what I said!” Tommy says, flicking Buck a smirk as he squeezes his side. “Hey, you’re meant to be on my side!” Buck protests, elbowing Tommy in the ribs, but it’s all forgiven when Tommy brushes a light kiss against Buck’s temple.  “And I didn’t want to tell them in person, I thought doing it like this would be… easier,” Buck finishes lamely, aware of how delusional he’s sounding. “Uh huh, cause telling your parents big, life changing things has always been easy in person hasn’t it,” Eddie deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrow at Buck in a way that screams you’re an idiot and you know it. “Listen, I wasn’t exactly thinking -” “Clearly,” Tommy and Eddie say in unison, turning to one another with shit-eating grins as Buck gives them both a flat look, before continuing.  “- but, I didn’t want them to gripe at me and say they would have rather heard it face to face than from behind a phone.” “I think they probably would have had a go at you either way, honestly,” Eddie says with a sympathetic shrug, and he reaches over to squeeze Buck’s shoulder. Buck sighs and burrows closer into Tommy’s side, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Tommy runs his hand down Buck’s spine, rubbing at each spinous process as he encourages Buck to relax. Buck softens a little, biting back a whine as Tommy nuzzles his nose against Buck’s hairline.  “You’re probably right,” he admits with a sigh. He’d really wanted nothing more than to heal his relationship with his parents but turns out it takes more than a little lightning strike and some shitty therapy sessions to mend years of trauma.

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan

@babybibuck @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @bibuckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon

@cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg

@alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @epicbuddieficrecs

@smilingbuckley @actuallyitsellie @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz @thekristen999

@loveyouanyway (Remember to interact with this post if you want to be on my taglist and lmk if you want to be removed)

[softstarlite]

The Casualty of Love

CHAPTER 3

Summary: He's back home. You have almost forgotten how warm his eyes were and how big your crush for him was.

Warnings: Age gap (Javi is 40 and reader is 27), mentions of grief, mention of self pleasure (f receiving), alcohol consumption, angst, both reader and Javi are horny and their thoughts show it, mention of tattoo. (Let me know if I'm missing one)

Rating: +18 (not explicit)

Word Count: 2.7k

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Masterlist

A/N:Here's the third chapter!! Finally!! I'm really sorry about the delay guys, truly. The reader is hispanic but I don't specify what kind of hispanic. I've tried to make all the Spanish sentences as neutral as I can, but they won't probably be completely be neutral, I'm from Spain, so it could show sometimes, sorry in advance. Well, feel free to tell what you thought about this chapter! (Always being kind please) I'm kind of nervous about writing smut in the future chapters (I've never done it). I specifically included the whole dancing part because I personally feel it's a big part of hispanic culture and it's not enough mention in fics where reader is indeed hispanic.

P.D: headcanons, asks and thoughts about this fic are welcome on my ask anything section ;-) <3

Divider by @saradika

“Pops, we are already too late!! Come on!!” Javier yells from the entrance of the house where he can't help but to look in the mirror on the wall and rearrange his shirt, doing and undoing a few buttons, debating what would you think of every option. He finally shakes his head and reminds himself that he can't think of you like that, not only you´re 13 years his junior but he also isn't good for you.

“Ya voy, mijo! (I'm coming, son!)” Chucho shouts walking down the stairs.

When Chucho arrives at the entrance of the house and sees Javi checking himself on the mirror, making sure the collar of his shirt is okay. Chucho can't help but to raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“We're feeling cute today, mijo?” he says, holding back a chuckle.

Javier gets startled by his father´s voice, “umm, no pops, just…didn't want María to scold me about a crooked collar like she did when i was a teen” he lies quickly before his dad has more questions.

“Sure, mijo, si usted lo dice (if you say so)” Chucho comments while taking his hat and his keys and walking out to the truck.

When they arrive to Doña Lucia´s house and they come into the backyard by the door fence on the side of the house, the first thing he sees is you, your hair down over your shoulders, your body frame by a summer dress, light blue with little daisies and thin straps, and your feet completely bare, just like when you were a kid. You hated wearing shoes as a kid, your mom and his were always behind you trying to tell you that you could hurt your feet by not wearing any but that never stopped you from going around the ranch “trying” to help Chucho with no shoes.

You´re dancing with an old lady that, if he remembers well, is Doña Esperanza; your cheeks are flushed and your mouth is curved into the most gorgeous smile he's ever seen. He can't help but freeze on the spot, making his dad crash with his backside.

“What the-? Javier!” says Chucho, balancing a bottle of whisky he had brought.

“Um?” Javier gets back to earth and turns around “Oh, sorry pops, here let me do that for you” he takes the bottle from Chucho´s hand and walks to the table where all the drinks are.

While putting the bottle down into the table, he can feel a hand on his shoulder. All of him inside shouts to the earth to swallow him, it must be another town person just wanting to talk about how proud they are that someone they know has done such amazing thing with the government and to ask how did it feel to take Escobar down; to his surprise when he turns around he finds you instead, with that smile, that could heal any illness he'll ever have, still adorning your face.

“Hey, you came!” you say with your hand still resting on his shoulder.

At first he can't find his word for a few seconds, but then he answers you “Um, yeah, wouldn't miss the free drinks and food for anything”

“Ey! Dancing is also one of the best parts of these things!” you say removing your hand from his shoulder to put up your hair into a messy ponytail; his eyes watching the action and it making him gulp.

“I haven´t been to one of this in a long fucking time” he chuckles, putting his hands into the back pockets of his tight jeans.

“Lastima (too bad), it's what i enjoy the most of this get togethers” wait, where you suggesting that you wanted to dance with him? “By the way, don't tell Doña Lucia that i told you but she keeps the really cold drink inside, if i get it she won't suspect a thing” you say suggesting that you could get him one.

“Sure, i would love a cold one with this stupid heat” he says, feeling the sweat going down his back, not sure if it was really from the heat or your mere presence.

“Well, then i'll be back in two minutes” your smile widens a little bit more before turning around and starting to walk towards the backdoor of the house.

His eyes can't help but to wander towards how your hips move when you walk away and how the dress you´re wearing hugs you ass…just before you start opening the door to go inside something, that makes his body freeze all over again, catches his attention. A tattoo on your right shoulder plate that says as clear as day, “Mi Alma” with a little heart beside it.

A chill goes through his body, you´ve tattooed his mom's name on you…

You dry the sweat at your temple as you walk inside the house; it was empty, the AC welcoming you and cooling you a little from the Texan heat from outside and to be honest from Javi´s presence as well. In the kitchen you lean your lower back into the counter and take a deep breath.

“We made a fucking deal, I'm not 15 anymore, i can't react to him” you say softly, arguing with your own mind, if anyone would to walk in now, they would think that you´re insane.

Since you saw Javier again on that parking lot, it was like he was the very air you were breathing; he had consumed every thought you had when your hand wandered inside your underwear at night; you would catch yourself counting the minutes that were left to see him again, even when they felt like way too many, you would think of excuses to show up at Chucho´s ranch before they day that you usually do. At some point in this over a week expanse of time, you had stopped yourself mid thought of him and told to yourself that it needed to stop; you weren't 15 anymore, you were a grown woman now, you couldn't spend your days just drooling and daydreaming about a man 13 years your senior, who you were pretty sure would never look at you as more as the closest thing he ever got to a younger annoying sister.

You smooth the skirt of your summer dress down and pull yourself up from the kitchen counter, you open the fridge and feel a few of the beer bottles to see which one feels colder, when you find it, you take it out of the fridge, uncap it and prepare yourself to walk outside and be in his presence again.

As soon as the sun hits your skin again, your eyes find him immediately, but now he isn't alone like you had left him, your mom is right there beside him, talking his ear out.You make your way towards them and without interrupting your mother, you reach your hand out to offer him the cold beer; when his fingers graze yours, it makes goosebumps crawl through your upper arms and you internally scold your body for betraying you. Once your mom finishes the sentence she was saying, her gaze turns to you.

“Oh mija, le prometí un baile contigo al nieto de Doña Lucia (I promised a dance with you to Doña Lucia´s grandson)” she says, giving you that smile that you know way too well.

You groan and throw your head back “Again ma? I told you on the last barbecue, deje de intentar juntarme con hombres…(stop trying to matchmake me with men) ” you say glaring at her.

She ignores your statement “He has a little dental clinic in town, es un hombre bueno para usted (is a good man for you), he could be a good husband” she says smirking and hitting your arm with the back of her hand.

“Ma…” you warn her; by your side you see Javier hiding a chuckle by taking a sip of the beer you brought him.

“No me haga quedar mal en mis promesas (don't make me look bad on my promises)” she says sternly, putting her hand on her hips.

You groan again and give a little nod; you put up your index finger and say “Just one dance, that's it” her facial expression changes immediately into a smile and nods enthusiastically.

“Es el muchacho de allí (It's the boy over there)” she says, pointing to a man with glasses and slightly curly hair, probably a few years older than you, that's sitting in one of the wooden tables.

You turn slightly towards Javier and tell him “wish me luck” you roll your eyes and walk quickly towards the man before your mom says anything about your comment.

Javier had watched your whole interaction with your mom in silence, feeling the need to jump into it several times to defend you and to prevent any interaction of you with any man. He now watches you dance a salsa with the unnamed man, his fist tightening around the beer bottle unintentionally.

“They would make a good couple, right?” Maria asks beside him, also watching you dance with the guy.

“Umm…don´t know, she didn't really sound interested Mia” he says back trying not to greet his teeth together.

“She could be, he's a good man, lo que ella necesita (what she needs)” she says not taking her eyes off of you and your dancing partner. The sentence makes his chest hurt, a good man…not what she would think of him if she knew even just some of the things he had done in Colombia.

“Mia…could I ask you something about her?” he says feeling like a little kid asking for a piece of chocolate.

“Claro (sure), Javiercito “ she says finally taking her gaze away from you to direct it towards him.

“I saw the tattoo…” he says, knowing he didn't need to say more.

“Si…” she says breathily looking back at you for a second “she got it done when she turned 18, when she was away in college, she came back that christmas with it done already, when i saw the ink at first, casi le grito (i almost scream at her); but then i saw what it said and all i could do was going into the bathroom and cry…” she tells him, at some point through it she unconsciously starts to caress his arm up and down, he's not sure if she's doing it to comfort him or herself.

He can only nod as an acknowledgement that he has heard her, feeling like if he opens his mouth, the only thing coming out of it would be a sob.

He's pulled out off the moment by your laughter, his gaze quickly wandering towards you. The guy you were dancing with accidentally stepped on you and he is apologizing again and again while you laugh it off and shake your head no, to let him know that it's okay.´Javi feels that if his hand gets tighter around the beer bottle, it will break, but before he could even think of doing anything about it, Maria talks again.

“Doña Lucia is calling for me, i'll see you later mijo” she gives his arm a final squeeze then takes off towards the host of the barbecue.

A minute later you're making your way back to where he is, the salsa song has finished and you were serious about only giving the guy one dance. He can see the sweat drop going from the base of your neck disappearing into the valley between your clothed breasts; he gulps the sip of beer he is taking. A few strands of your hair had fallen out of your messy ponytail, your cheeks a little more flushed from the heat than before.

“I think i'm needing one of those” you say pointing with your head to the beer in his hand.

“Well, Doña Lucia is distracted with your mom, and I need another one too, so let's go inside and get us both one, eh?” he says smirking, you just nod, look briefly towards where your mom and Doña Lucia are talking and then start walking again towards the back door of the house with Javier behind you.

The AC welcomes you again when you step inside and you even sigh from the relief it brings to your heated body. You can feel his presence right behind you, you´re sure that if he reached one arm out just a little bit, he would get in contact with your lower back. Once you both get a beer on your hands, you climb on top of the kitchen counter, crossing your ankles together, and he leans into it beside you. For a few minutes you both just stay silent sipping your respective beers, and you can't ignore how the side of his arm grazes your thigh when he takes a sip. Javier is the one to break the silence surprisingly.

“Pops has told me that you visit the ranch often…” he says, looking at the bottle in his hand and picking at the label in it.

“Mmhmm” you say while nodding even if you know that he is not looking at you.

He then turns towards you, now leaning the side of his hip into the counter “Thanks for that, I'm sure it has made him feel less lonely when I was away…” he says to you, looking into your eyes, shaking your entire nervous system.

You shrug your shoulders “It's not a big deal, his family and I actually enjoy his company” you chuckle softly.

“Right…But anyway, thank you” he says before his body acts by itself and his free hand lifts and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You freeze and your eyes widen a little bit, not expecting the sudden physical contact. He doesn't take his hand away, but rather rests it on your cheek. You both stare into each other eyes, your heart is going way too fast for it to be even healthy and when your eyes wander towards his lips, you both hear the back door of the house being open; he almost jumps away from you quickly, he is very thankful that Doña Lucia doesn't oil the hinges of the door very often.

Chucho walks into the kitchen a minute later, his eyebrows lifting since he didn't expect the both of you there.

“Muchachos, what are you doing here? The party is outside, you´re young, you should enjoy” he says walking past the both of you towards the fridge.

“Nos resguardamos del calor por un rato, viejito (we´re sheltering ourselves from the heat for a bit, old man)” you answer when you see that Javi can't handle it right now.

“It's just a little bit of heat” he says with friendly mock in his tone “ustedes jóvenes no pueden manejar nada (you youngsters can't handle anything)” he smirks and you see how much it looks like Javi´s smirk; you stick out your tongue to him and he laughs and combs his mustache with his fingers.

“Mijita, we might be needing you by the ranch soon, the peach and nectarine trees are getting too full” he tells while uncapping his own beer.

Javier keeps being quiet and it makes you worry inside of what is going inside his mind “Sure viejito, whenever you tell me” you say, giving him a soft smile.

“Gracias mija (thanks, my daughter)” he squeezes your shoulder when he walks past you “Come out when you want kids” he says while walking out of the kitchen. You wait until you hear the hinges of the back door again, indicating his full leave, to turn towards Javier, you open your mouth to address what happened before Chucho came in but before you get even a breath out, he walks out of the kitchen without a word or a glance towards you, and leaves you there, anxiety already creeping up your body.

Next chapter

[somereaderinblue]

Hyacinths & Daisies

Tesla is tired.

She wants humans & Plants to be equals. She wants the humans who are selfish enough to abuse her Plant sisters & innocents to stop. She wants Knives to stop so Nai can properly heal. She wants to go back to those days where they were kids & innocently carefree.

She wants her wishes to be heard. But no one listens. 

She tries anyway. 

She screams and shouts and uses bullets as punctuations when she has to. But ammo is finite & she’s been screaming so much, her throat tastes of dried blood even when she’s just breathing.

She’s tired. She’s so tired.

Tesla’s hope is akin to the sand of No Man’s Land. Seemingly infinite but rough & coarse, a witness that enables misery more than anything. She grabs it in tight fists until her palms are scraped raw but it spills through her fingers sooner or later.

We’ve seen heroes who start out as idealistic become realistic, if not outright jaded. Try as Tesla might, she knows she’s not really living. She has no idea what she’ll do once Knives is stopped because at this point, she’s more likely to die trying to do that than achieving her dream of building equal ground for humans & Plants.

Still, she helps where she can. She can’t play God, surely she can make sure death at least finds the bastards who deserve it more? Surely this time, she can add a tally to the people she's saved instead of another she's failed? She’s trying, she’s trying, she’s trying.

Enter Livio (& the age-reversal wand).

All the kids at the orphanage avoided the scrappy boy who sharpened his teeth so nobody would pick on his brittle bones. When Nico bit Livio hard enough to draw blood, he teared up but didn’t flinch. When Nico finally let go because his jaw ached, Livio wiped the dirt from his cheek instead of slapping it.

In turn, Nico didn’t run from Razlo either. Livio taught Nico how to calm a crying baby while Razlo taught him how to punch the older meaner kids in places that count. Livio was the shield, Razlo was the sword.

When the Eye of Michael came, Livio accepted it; showed them Razlo & proved his compatibility with their experiments. He became their Double Fang. Naturally, everyone preferred Razlo but a coin only had value when both sides were intact. Putting up with still stupidly gentle, weaker, Livio was a small price to pay.

Until they decided they had a mission that was perfect for Livio, not Razlo.

And so, the sheep that was forced to wear the fangs and claws of a wolf was once again stuffed with cotton until it soaked up the blood & left his lungs clogged.

The worst part? Tesla meets Livio and slowly but surely, the sand-like hope she has is refined to glass. Still fragile and capable of cutting once shattered but the transformation? It burns, it shapes, it’s delicate & it’s beautiful.

Neither of them were meant to be weapons, but maybe with the help of each other, they can learn to be people again.

Extra AU notes:

TW: mention of addiction

-Tesla loses her right eye while Livio covers his left (it dramatically comes off when Razlo takes the reins).

-This visually shows how they're similar yet different in a way that complements each other & foreshadows that they're literally on opposite sides.

-Tesla jokingly calls Livio a grandpa because he carries a lot of candy & always nags her to rest more.

(The irony of that nickname is not lost on either of them.)

-Nico of course, followed Livio. The Eye purposely got him addicted to cigarettes laced with the serum to further keep him under control.

-Instead of canon!Livio's skull mask, he wears a mouthguard to resemble a muzzled dog (I'm sorry for doing this to you Wolfwood-).

-Livio doesn't smoke but he carries a lighter to perform tricks, it's calming for him.

[aprillikesthings]

I'm awake, I'm drinking coffee, and I'm waiting for some laundry to get done before I do some homework for my Bible/theology discussion thingie (EfM, for the handful of Episcopal nerds I've become mutuals with) (....who didn't give up tumblr for Lent)

So I might as well watch some She-Ra, right?

s4 ep4 pulse

(Side note I posted a short fic yesterday if you're interested)

PLOT

I've read the synopsis and I'm not sure if there's much I'm gonna screenshot/talk about with this one

does this character have a NAME? I forget

the bit of animation of Double Trouble shifting out of "Flutterina" is pretty great, someone clearly had fun with it

(Do you think it takes effort to stay in another "shape"? Amethyst in SU clearly had to put forth effort the whole time, whereas I think Double Trouble doesn't, other than the acting part.)

"Espionage is a long game, kitten."

Catra is Amused

Double Trouble: "This is supposed to be fun!" Catra: ":( this is supposed to be war" Double Trouble: "No reason it can't be both :)"

Me, A Human in a Non-Fictional Universe: there are many good reasons it should not be both but I suspend them for fiction

Double Trouble literally makes a foreshadowing joke, I love them

...is it all poisonous plants

I mean that does look like foxglove

She's laying it on pretty thick imho

eugh

STOP TOUCHING PEOPLE'S FACES oh my god

are they going to drill down to the Cluster

(how many Steven Universe references am I gonna make by the time I'm done rewatching THIS cartoon)

nope don't like that

I was rereading that one "missing scene" fic that Nate posted and in it Adora talks about how doing the healing thing here is actually fucking exhausting and makes her sore all over. If you were wondering why she doesn't do it all the time.

It also doesn't entirely heal the person in question; they still have to rest a lot!

One person: suggests, even slightly, that the Horde is somehow tracking She-Ra Adora: OBVIOUSLY THIS IS ALL MY FAULT

Meanwhile, Glimmer:

(she also blames herself)

oooooh I forgot

She's talking to Double Trouble but I still cackled

oh god Glimmer goes to Shadow Weaver to ask "how to think like Catra, since you know her best," and while Glimmer isn't wrong in that Shadow Weaver is the only one around (other than Adora) who knows Catra at all, it's just.....eugggghhhh

DUH

Okay the "what do those do" "those are daisies, I find them cheerful" is actually pretty funny

every time she gets into someone's personal space like that it's creepy as shit

....she's not wrong. Part of me is like "lol even Shadow Weaver knows" but tbqfh she probably knows better than anyone considering how much she used their mutual affection to abuse them. >:(

what is it with lesbians and game nights (she says, knowing she bought the boardgames Wingspan and Ticket to Ride as Christmas gifts for a partner) (actually it's been a while since we played I should suggest it again)

"people don't come to game night because YOU insist on serving vegetable platters" okay is this a "lesbians are vegetarians" joke are they gonna mention hummus next lolol

"no one likes vegetable platters!" D: I do (...with hummus, even)

anyway they get surrounded by drill bots, meanwhile Glimmer sneaks up on Catra

"wtf?"

(she literally thinks it's Double Trouble at first lol)

I love it when Catra's just like IMMA BITE

please tell me the Glitra shippers reference this line as often as possible

Poor Adora, Glimmer is straight up like "I will continue using you as a decoy--I mean a distraction :) while I destroy shit" and Adora, well--

This actually reminds me of a conversation on reddit the other day, about how people who've always had happy families (or at least, no truly shitty family members) often cannot wrap their minds around the idea that someone who is nice to them could be an abusive piece of shit to someone else, and you end up in these situations where naive people try to force a reconciliation or pull a "but they're your faaaaaamily" or just straight-up don't believe your version of events, because nobody could be that horrible to their own kids, right???? I don't think that's what Glimmer's doing here but it still sucks for Adora.

"I'll bring back some cake!" lol I forgot about this line when I wrote my fic (linked above) but I'm glad this is canon, that she just raids the kitchen, and specifically for cake XD

ehehehehehhehheh

also we see Catra hand Double Trouble an actual little bag of (presumably) coins, what currency do you think Etheria uses??? Like who sets the standard for it. The most obvious thing would be that it's just coins of some standardized weight of a metal rare enough to be valuable. But it's funny to ask yourself if it's like, the kind of coins with someone's face on it, because whose face would it be?! Because then either the Horde and everyone else would be using different currencies (which would be useless across sides) or they're all using the same currency. Some obscure person from Etherian history, probably.

Also I'm not sure the Horde actually pays anyone. I think it's just "you can get enough to eat (barely), and a place to sleep (sort of), and uhhh you can fight each other over getting a small step up in power"

As usual I am overthinking the world-building here lolll

okay episode over :D time to flip the laundry

[wonderlandleighleigh]

77 Thoughts While Rewatching Supernatural 11x04: Baby

Let’s gooooooo!

1. There are, thankfully, behind the scenes photos of Jensen in those shorts. But we were robbed of Dean in his “It’s a free bunker” daisy dukes.

2. But the conceit of this episode is so great. I remember watching it for the first time and being floored and how personal it felt.

3.And the little details we see in the car that we know are there. The army man. The initials and the leggos. Just. Ugh. The great thing about having a show run this long is that there’s so much history to draw from.

4. Guitar Man playin.

5. I love that Sam just pitches in with washing Baby. Like it’s a normal thing they do together. Maybe Cas helps sometimes too.

6. And the transition from Dean spraying down the car to the rain. So good. Dangit.

7. It’s 21 hours from Lebanon, Kansas to Oregon. I always forget how long the distances they go are, because the show condenses the drives. But holy fuck that is so long.

8. LOL Sam and his smoothies. “Where’s the rest of the beer?!” Hahahaha it’s such a typical little brother move, and even Sam’s face reads “oh shit big brother mad.”

9. I love how protective they are of Cas. They really do both love him. They want him to heal.

10. Cas just cruising through Netflix. You know that at some point Dean snuck into Sam’s room and fucked with his Netflix algorithm.

11. I love this scene at the Roadhouse. “Actually she never texted me back.” For as handsome and adorable as Dean is, he’s still such a doof, and you know what? Sometimes potential romantic interests just ghost him.

12. The time lapse here is brilliant. It keeps us in the car, but also, like... we don’t need to see them hookin’ up. That’s personal.

13. “Mistakes were made. Mhm.”

14. HOW DID SAM FIT IN THE BACK SEAT WITH THAT WOMAN?! HE IS SO TALL! SHE DOES NOT LOOK SHORT! WHAT THE FUCK IS THE IMPALA A SEX TARDIS?

15. “Don’t Night Moves me.” I love this part. And! Night Moves appears in two of my favorite shows: This, and The OC.

16. And any time we get to hear Dean sing is a great time. He CAN sing. He pretends he can’t for various reasons, but he so can.

17. The montage is great, too, of them in the car. Just livin.

18. Again, having such a long run means we get to see these life moments that are just wonderful. Between the blood and the tragedy. They eat burgers in teh car and sing songs. They drive. 

19. “We got tonight, who needs tomorrow?” I feel like Dean would make a great D and D bard, you know?

20. And this conversation they have about that Apple Pie life is good, too. That Sam would still like it. That’s Dean’s...just not sure it’s for him. He tried it once, and it blew up in his face. Add to that that he has Cas now. So...

21. I need to talk to you about this Judy Collins song. It was, according to Dream!John, one of Mary’s favorite songs, and it just...feels right. One of the only things that bummed me out about The Winchesters was that we didn’t get a callback to this song in the show.

“I would follow him right down The toughest road I know  Someday soon Goin’ with him someday”

22. It’s such a great departure from the harder classic rock that winds up in the show as being very much John’s music. We get something softer that’s Mary’s. Something that maybe the boys took comfort in when their father would put it on, knowing it was something she loved.

23. ROBBIE JUDY COLLINS CALLBACK WHEN! ROBBIE! ROBBIE PLEASE!

24. But also Matt Cohen really is amazing as a younger John Winchester. He really channels Jeffrey Dean Morgan in a tender way here. I love it.

25. Sam’s face. He’s so freaked out. Like.

26. Hey season 11! Before Jared stopped trying and started phoning it in! We love to see it.

27. “When has death ever stopped a Winchester.” oh John. You have no idea.

28. “You played your part.” Poor Sam. John was so checked out. The level of neglect both Sam and Dean suffered is really extreme.

29.The lack of music here with just the sounds of the road and the car is really great here. So tense.

30. Another great conversation between these two. I think because Dean is such a goof sometimes, it’s easy to discount his big brotherness. Sam is constantly playing the straight man. Here, we get to see Dean do some big time big brothering.

31. I love the lighting, here too. It would be easy to have it be super dark, but it’s great that they use street lights to illuminate everything.

32. LOL Dean and Sam keeping secrets. after a while, that was kind of the whole show, wasn’t it? Just Dean and Sam not telling each other shit and hurting each other like dummies.

33. “I read.” HE DOES! Way back in season 4, Sam found a Vonnegut in his bag.

34. There’s a SPN official novel called Nevermore where Dean does not know who Edgar Allen Poe is, and upon reading that I was so much, I never tried to read it again. Fuck you, Dean knows his lit. He plays dumb, he’s not actually dumb.

35. Dean’s dream about John hits me hard now, after The Winchesters season 1 finale, because in that universe that Dean futzed with? That dream could now be a reality.

36. “Perfect landing, Son.”

37. Sam dreaming about Mary is a whole thing, too. Of that person he can’t remember. Ouch.

38. That overhead shot of them is so great. Love it.

39. Werepire! oh Dean.

40. Meatman cometh.

41. The minor freakout over valet parking lol.

42. But with good reason.

43. But also girl me too. Let’s be real, who wouldn’t? It’s a great car. And this is a great moment.

44. She was definitely doing donuts. I love it.

45. Dean would shit himself if he knew.

46. This entire scene is so good. But also, I love Dean and Cas here.

47. LOL step away from the Netflix.

48. Dean, stop trying to make fetch happen, bud.

49. Poor Cas, talking to himself, thinking he’s helping. But again, it keeps us in the car.

50. But this whole scene is so great.

51. Poor Dean missed him saying werepire.

52. I love this fight scene so much. It’s played for laughs and it works so well. It is so gory.

53. “It turns out I did shoot the deputy.” I need you to know that I SCREAMED when he said this, because it’s an add-on from a joke made in SEASON 3. 3! THEY WRAPPED THAT JOKE EIGHT YEARS LATER! Again, it’s the benefits of a show that goes this long.

54. Poor Cas. Just...having to sit on the phone while carnage happens on the other end.

55. The windshield wiper. Dean is so unfazed.

56. Poor cooler. It went from beer and smoothies to a monster head.

57. Again, Dean is so not bothered by any of this. It’s just another day, and it makes it so much funnier. Like he knows it’s gross, but like. It’s just another workday.

58. I’m not sure about these extreme closeups. It’s a lot.

59. “What bench?” oh Cas. <3

60. Sam getting distracted with the fiirty and Dean getting jumped. Again.

61. HEAD IN A BOX.

62. They just left that head in the backseat with a woman he thought was like a full blown human. Because they’re that desensitized. Head in a box. “Yeah? And?”

63. “You do anything for your family.” Oh boy.

64. Sam just not noticing a damn thing.

65. Dean face down in the back seat, sees the Hello Kitty bag: “How did...I don’t wanna know.”

66. The monsters are scared.

67. Dean’s in a tough spot here, and he’s just rolling his eyes at this monster monologueing. It’s part “Are you fucking kidding me with this shit? I can’t believe I let this happen, why am I so dumb?” and part “Bitch do you know what I am? Get wrecked.”

68. Poor Baby. God she is beat up.

69. this inside/outside the car fight is great too. I love that we don’t need to see like a big full fight scene. It’s so cramped and so cool.

70. Fucking decapitated with the car door that is fucking brutal.

71. “Oh baby I’m so sorry.” Yeah dude your car is fucked.

72. Both Dean and Baby. So fucked up.

73. Jensen learned that car move on his lunch break. Talented bastard.

74. Sam also looking messed up.

75. “Would you mind starting tomorrow?” Oh Sam.

76. And we end on Night Moves as the boys and Baby limp on home.

77. Truly, one of my all time favorite episodes of this show. Shot so cleverly, with great character moments and glimpse at what’s going on with the larger season-long plot. Love it.

[writerben01]

Teardrops stain my drawing, smudging the crayon markings that are as blue as drowned lips eating birthday cake.

“Are you going to have another tantrum?” Miss Daisy asks. “I thought you had gotten used to mommy leaving?”

Of course I cried that morning. It was the first time seeing my mother in decades and she had nothing on her mind but the early meeting she could not be late for. “I’m sorry, miss.”

She hands me a tissue. “Big girls don’t cry.” She looks at the picture. “Are you drawing a dolphin, dear?”

I shrug. I’m not sure what I’m doing. In Alfheimr there was no use to drawing. My fingers are so used to writing letters and numbers that I find it hard to draw. But the colour speaks to me.

I remember a birthday cake, covered in blue frosting and topped with seven candles. Susan smiled as she blew them out. Nobody needed to guess her wish but we made silly guesses anyway. We were laughing in the hollow expanse of Alfheimr’s dining hall, and for a moment we forgot about the thousands of other tables in the hall celebrating birthdays that day. It was just the twenty of us, formed into unbreakable hær, making a home for ourselves.

But then I’m also thinking of Susan turning white under icy waves when her önd was not strong enough to keep her warm. Nineteen terrified hands reaching for her as she sunk away, her smile now as permanently etched on her face as in my memories of her.

We begged our seggr to slow down and she refused. We cried that we just needed more time to learn. But time was the one thing that was in short supply. The loss of life was not only a calculated risk, but a guaranteed expectancy. No gradual awakenings for us. We were thrown into the deep and we would either sink or swim.

There were so many girls, and they needed only one queen.

“Put your drawing supplies away!” Miss Daisy says. “It’s time for gym.”

It feels good to run again. Miss Daisy wants me to play games, but everyone around me is too young to know any. The children make up their own and yell new rules every few seconds and I have no interested in making order within that chaos. I do not have to play along. The only thing not allowed is sitting still and I can do that. I’ve always been good at that.

I remember Cathy-Ann, the most competitive of us. She was always ahead of us no matter how quickly I ran. Each morning we would race and each morning she would win. Her heart was strong and her tongue was quick. Whenever we grew tired, it was her games that made us push through. Another mile. Another push-up. Another spar. She had more lik, strength of the body, than any of us.

She was the one who convinced us to train instead of cry. We all wanted to go home. Each of us had been ripped from our reality without warning and without consent, by the mysterious Ashmen. They told us how desperate they were and how sorry. They promised that they just needed a queen, and then they would send everyone back. Everyone who survived.

Cathy-Ann took that as a challenge and decided our group would make it until the end.

It was only in her final moments, when her impressive lik was not enough on its own to give her önd, that I finally saw the fear in her eyes. She had needed her games because then she could pretend the rules would be fair.

“Watch out!”

A boy is coming towards me. His face is turned away from me and I know, I KNOW, that this is just an accident. But all I can see is the Jötunn with fangs so sharp it will leave scars on my body for the rest of my life. I can feel its breath and hear its low baritone growls. It is pure instinct that makes me punch the boy’s face as it’s coming close.

It’s the sounds of his crying that snap me out of it. I don’t know much healing magic, but I know enough to stop his nosebleed. Something so small fatigues me now, because my body is so much weaker than it once was. I lack the lik of my previous life. And there is no magic without balancing body and mind.

The teacher scolds me and I cry. From the scare, from the guilt, from the exhaustion. She sends me back to class and tells me to read to stay out of trouble. All the books are too simple for me. But if I must choose between them, there is one that draws me in with morbid curiosity.

It is about a camel in the dessert. And the writer clearly had no idea what true heat is.

The story is simplistic. The entire thing is over in less than two hundred words. So I read it again. And again.

And I imagine it’s Cassy telling it to me in secret whispers after lights-out, both of us too exhausted to sleep. She had been an avid reader. She knew more words than anyone else in our group and she mastered all the lessons before anyone else. She talked so fast and still her mouth could hardly keep up with her brain.

She had more vördr than grown women, yet it did not balance out her small body. When she fainted in the sauna we screamed and begged the seggr to let us out. But the lock remained firmly in place. Nobody was coming to safe us. And therefore it would have to be me. I awakened that day, blowing the iron door from its hinges and releasing the steam from the room.

And still I had been too late to save her.

I don’t know what came of the other girls. Presumably they were put under increasing pressure until they broke or exploded with magic like me. I did not get to see it. Because I had magic and that meant I could continue to the lessons.

When Miss Daisy comes back with the other kids, she declares it’s time for a video lesson. She turns on a children’s show on the big screen that covers the blackboard. It is about a trio of fairies who go to a magic school. The children all sound jealous. It is ridiculous.

Magic school for me was not memorising spells or waving wands around. It was increased physical training, intense studying of physics and Math, and hourly spars with other students. We could only eat or drink if we beat someone in a fight. I was quick to form a coven. My sisters watched out for me and we took turns losing from each other to maximise our chances. We shared food and drink with each other when the teachers were not watching us. We did what we needed to survive.

We learned about the fight. The Ashmen had lived in peace until the Jotünn had come for them. Now there was only the centre of their empire that was safe, while the planets on their frontiers were always under fire. It was a war they said they were losing, which was why they needed help from other universes. If the Ashmen lost, and this universe was devoured, the Jotünn would come for our home universes next.

Our teachers could not use our magic of light, but they had some knowledge of their own kind of ancient magic called Seiðr that used runes and words and sacrifice. There were no special words that focused our powers. Just the ever-present balance. We trained our lik with daily exercise, our vördr with our lessons, and önd was the natural consequence of what followed. The magic cannot be trained like muscles, or better understood like equations. It simply is, and the only thing to learn is an ease to grasp it.

On the screen in a classroom of children are fantasy creatures wanting to learn magic. And none of them are asking what it’ll be for. Why they would be taught to play with the fabric of reality.

I thought the seggr were monsters for how they trained us. But then I turned twelve and I was faced with true evil.

The creatures were named Jötunn and they killed without remorse. They were impervious to mortal weapons and did not need food to eat or air to breathe. Not even the Seiðr could harm them. They were wounds in the earth and only the light magic of young girls could stand against them.

Some were mockeries of natural beasts, some corporeal shadows, some looked like moving trees. Some were small as insects and others large as buildings. There was much difference between them yet they all had one thing in common: the cold you could feel when facing them.

I stayed with my coven and we expanded. There were twelve girls in my contubernia and together we were expected to hold the village we were stationed at. The people we were protecting provided us with food and water by using Seiðr. They could do things with their magic that we could not with ours. Their magic sometimes felt more powerful. Yet only ours worked against the Jotünn.

Our days were filled trying to keep them all from being killed. We slept in shifts and tried to keep up our training.

After two years, the surviving half of my coven was moved to a city. After four, I was sent to a metropolis as the sole survivor. Each time we were sent somewhere with stronger enemies, each time I was almost faced with more than I could handle.

They were doing their best to stagger us. At first I thought this was all just part of the training, and part of that was true. But it was something else too.

Our strongest witches were fighting against the King of Jötunn and while each day that the multiverse was not collapsing constituted a victory, it also came at a heavy price. The only girls who could replace these front line fighters were the ones who had been fighting the generals of the Jötunn. But who were strong enough to now fight the generals? Surely only those who had been fighting the captains.

We were trapped in an ever-lasting cycle of death. All in the hope that one of the girls fighting against the king would awaken one more level of power and become queen.

“Why aren’t you singing along?” Mrs. Daisy asks.

“I don’t feel like singing.”

Singing is not something I have ever done for joy. We sang funeral hymns for the fallen. We sang our prayers in hope that we would not follow them to Valhalla. We sang when the people demanded we put on a show and demanded we would have our scheduled fun, lest they feel like they had enslaved us.

“But it’s your turn to sing.” Mrs. Daisy points out.

Everyone is looking at me. If I must dance again, then I shall. I tap my desk for a rhythm and then I belt. “Helmwige. Hier. Hieher mit dem Roß.”

They’re looking at me and I can deal with that.

“That’s an advanced piece.” Mrs. Daisy says in a lull. “Can you show us how much you know?”

I keep singing. I straighten and become the Valkyrie. My young body can’t reach all the notes, but I easily transpose to a lower key to compensate. There is no accompaniment that stands in the way of it. No Gerdy who plays the violin for me. No Helga who plays her flute. No Waltrude who can harmonise.

I remember the last night we could play together. The Metropolis wanted to meet their Valkyries. I sang to an audience of thousands and used my magic for beauty instead of power. We had rehearsed a dance and it was fun. A different way to move our bodies that was just as taxing as our daily exercises but nowhere near as boring. Waltrude and I ebbed and flooded, circling around each other in playful antagonism. Moving made so much sense that suddenly it wasn’t just my body that was dancing, but my magic as well.

I learned how to teleport. And with that ability, I was ripped away from my sisters and told to fight the Jotünn King.

Finally I finish my song. Mrs. Daisy leads the applause and encourages everyone to join in. “I don’t know where you memorised German opera, but that was beautiful. We need to get you in the school’s talent show.”

“Yes, Miss.” I say.

She moves on to the other children, who sing Itsy Bitsy Spider and Old McDonald. And then it becomes time to play outside. The other children declare we will play Hide and Seek. Someone’s counting down from ten and I know the perfect place to hide.

I sunbathe on the roof, sweating from more than the heat.

The Jotünn King was not a creature that could just be fought with raw power. He moved around in space and was the size of a planet. It reached out tendrils of destructive force strong enough to cleave the moon in twain. Fighting it was an exercise in attrition.

Bait the King into attacking somewhere with no collateral damage, creating a weakness. Attack the weakness. Escape the King’s attack. Each day it grew. And each day we tried to shrink it. We searched and searched for the best ways to attack. And we hid from where it would find us.

I was the youngest of thirty girls who fought the King together.

Until I was the oldest of thirty girls.

There was no more physical training, because we already exhausted ourselves running from the King. There was no more studying, because there was nothing more challenging than outsmarting the creature. Every time I teleported, my önd was easier to reach.

I don’t know why I lasted as long as I did. I was not the smartest amongst my sisters. I was not the strongest. I was not the one with the most virtue or the one who most wanted to go home. All I did was survive.

Until finally I turned eighteen, and I awoke with three eyes instead of two. I had become a queen.

“Playtime’s over!” Miss Daisy calls.

I slip back down from the roof by the rain gutter when nobody’s paying attention. I don’t have the magic to teleport down the same way I got up, but I still have the agility to make it down unscathed.

Our next activity is finger painting. The paint feels thick and alive against my fingers. I have to blink away the idea that it’s blood. But even so it crawls on my skin. The only way to get it out of my head is to draw the image on the paper. And it’s not the King that I draw.

The Jotünn don’t bleed. But it wasn’t only Jotünn that I killed.

After I got my third eye, I was crowned Queen Hayate, the herald of long awaited peace. I looked to the King and I saw not only what he was doing, but also what he was going to do. Using the eye was exhausting, but with it I knew how to defeat a Jotünn that was the size of a planet.

Where each day as Valkyrie had been three steps forward and two steps back, as Queen I managed thirty steps forward and prevented the need to retreat at all. I saved my sisters. We were thirty girls against a King. And then we were forty. We were fifty. We were sixty.

The war was going to be won.

We celebrated. We shared stories of the friends we had lost. We laughed and drank and toasted to returning home again. Freya asked me to look at her future. And for the first time I pulled my third eye away from the King to look at the girls.

And I screamed.

In anger. In grief. In sheer disbelief.

Freya would stand on the corpse of the King of Jotünn. She would cry out in triumph. She would receive a medal on a stage standing next to her queen. The Ashmen would send me back in a big ritual as a special reward for my service. And then they would promise the other girls that they were next. Just as soon as the other Jotünn were exterminated.

Freya would fight for years in relative safety. She would lose the edge that the King had sharpened.

And then there would be a new King. Freya would fight it and die.

We were trapped in an ever-lasting cycle of death and I had been fooled to think the scope was so much smaller than it really was.

I looked at the Ashmen that had raised us. I was not the first queen they had drafted. I was not going to be the last.

And they knew.

Just like they knew they had to send me back before I turned my eyes to them. Before I asked the questions that I had been raised to ignore.

Where did the Jotünn come from?

We had always been taught that they were wounds on the earth but we had somehow forgotten to ask who had wounded the earth. We had forgotten to ask who kept wounding it.

The Ashmen were the hands. Many of them had good intentions. There was a government that was doing the best it could, the heart of the cosmos.

And then there was the head. The corporations who paid for their safety like they were buying off their guilt. And all the time they knew. Not just of the cycle. Not just of the deceit. They knew what was causing the wounds. Because they were causing it.

There was a reason that the Ashmen needed little girls with their light magic to fight the Jotünn. It was dark magic that created and fuelled them. It was the Seiðr that they used for profit and comfort.

At the head was a man who called himself Loki. I knew where he was. Crossing impossible distances was easy for me. One moment Freya’s smile was in front of me and the next, Loki’s frown.

I demanded he give up his magic. I demanded he stopped wounding the universe. I shouted at him and he shouted back. I called for justice for each girl that had died by his hand and he dared claim innocence. He said he did better than other companies. He said he was the foremost investor in finding alternatives for the ancient magic. But he would only stop over his cold dead body.

Only time could make his body cold.

The rest was up to me.

The paper is ripped from my desk. I see Miss Daisy’s shocked face as she looks at my picture. “What’s going on with you today?”

“Can I get cleaned up?”

She nods.

I wash the blood from my hands.

I was Queen Hayate. I fought the Jotünn King but I did not defeat him. Not yet. Not until I had visited every practitioner of Seiðr and had taken the knowledge of it from their minds. Those that tried to hide, I always found eventually. I tore through whatever defences they built to block my path. Some tried to offer me money. Some tried to offer me power. Like I had use for any more of it.

Some tried to beg me to stop, claiming Seiðr was part of their cultural heritage. And they had no idea. Yes, their culture had functioned for a long time using dark magic. But for millennia each spell had been fuelled by sacrificing the blood of innocent little children. As their society grew modern, they stopped killing to cast their magic, and the lack of balance created the Jotünn. And, per their cultural tradition, they had gone right back to sacrificing children.

Some listened to me and understood in horror that their life of luxury was paid by the war plaguing the borderlands. Some still tried to argue as if I had not spoken at all, and those made me angriest.

Those that had knowingly harmed the universe, I bit their shoulder to keep them in place as my soul tour into their heart and left a chasm in their memories. Those that had been ignorant were held in place with gentle hands, receiving a kiss on their forehead as I replaced the memories of magic with skills they could use instead.

I was feared across the cosmos. Because I would not take their money or honeyed words. Because they knew there was no stopping me. Because they knew I was right.

The government was on the fence. They thought I was too drastic. They said they had no alternatives and that their society would crumble without the destructive dark magic supporting them. I visited the leaders and brought scientists with me. I showed them that I could not only destroy, but also create. I was queen and I would not falter in my convictions. But I had no interest in ruling a kingdom of rubble.

It took a long time. Three more girls awakened their third eye. I named them princesses and told them where to direct their gaze. And once they knew, I told them how to direct their fury.

Eventually, there was no more dark magic in the cosmos. That is when we killed the king of the Jotünn with full confidence he would never return.

By mutual agreement, we sent the youngest girls back first. It was not a fast project, but we had patience. The oldest girls defeated the last vestiges of Jotünn, while the youngest were first freed. Those least damaged by this world were the ones who needed most protection.

There would be no more dark magic. No more Jotünn. No more girls who had to die.

I was the very last to go. Scourge of the cosmos, finally a queen without subjects. I closed my third eye. I pulled my önd inside myself. And then I went back to being a toddler, crying at seeing her mother for the first time in decades.

“I think they’re clean.” Miss Daisy says.

I stare at my hands, irritated and red from my scrubbing. “I’m sorry.”

“I called your mom. She’s coming back from work early to pick you up.”

“Okay.”

There is a big poster on the side of the room. At the beginning of the school year all of us wrote down what we wanted to be when we grew up. It was a lifetime ago for me that I said I wanted to be a ballerina. I had even added a drawing of myself in a pink tutu.

Everything is done. Perhaps I can finally learn to dance.

Mom picks me up and drives me home. “We’ll talk about this after dinner.” She says, holding up the painting.

She brings her work with her into the house and lays it out on the table.

“What are these?”

“Just the designs I’ve been working on. They’re not quite working out.”

I look at them. “There’s not enough support here.”

“Why do you say that?” She says with a smile.

I take a pencil and start the equations. With the material she is using, the load would be too great to stand on its own.

“That’s… where did you learn that?” She asks as she looks at my Math.

I shrug. “Must have seen you work on it before.”

“That’s…” She takes a deep breath, calming herself. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but if you’re interested in knowing more about engineering that’s a much easier problem for me to solve than anything else.”

She explains the markings I had not recognised. Some of them were to indicate stronger materials specifically to solve the problem of keeping the structure from collapsing under its own weight. The electrical wiring is filled with symbols that were different in the other world. But easy to memorise and understand with some explanation.

“This is helping me a lot.” Mom says. “It’s like the rubber duck theory. It’s easier to understand my schematics merely by having to explain it.”

“Wouldn’t this work better with another resistor added?” I say, pointing.

“Except a rubber duck doesn’t talk back.” Mom smiles, looking where I’m pointing. “And doesn’t give genius insight. I think… I think that would solve my problem. I’ve got to make a few calls.”

I nod, still studying the machine my mother was designing. It was supposed to collect carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and concentrate it. There was a lot of thought that had gone into the design and there were many clever solutions to problems that she must have encountered along the way. It must have taken years of work.

Still my hands itch to make it even better, my own mind already taking every bit of it apart and piecing it together again in a dozen different ways.

“What do you mean, there’s no money!” Mom shouts on the telephone. “That’s bullshit, David. You said you’d secure the funding if I got the last issues figured out. I just did.”

Mom has left reference books on the table and I start to go through them. I learn not only about the scientific principles underlying this engineering project, but also about global warming and the political mindfield surrounding it.

When mom gets off her call, she is dejected. She does not want to talk about it and starts on dinner instead. She asks with a trembling voice if it’s okay to just watch some television tonight and to talk more tomorrow. I agree. We watch my favourite Disney movie and sing along as Mirabel tries to safe her family without using any magic.

Mom tucks me into bed and kisses me good night.

While she sleeps, I creep back downstairs. I pull more of her books from the shelves and read. I take her designs and keep going. I need to understand the problem better. And then I need to work on it until it is solved. Mom’s design is effective, but expensive. I can work on making it cheaper. And if there are those who oppose change, I can find out whose minds need to be changed.

I’ve already saved the cosmos for my sisters. How hard will it be to save one planet for my mother?

When mom wakes up, I’m still at it, surrounded by sketches and news clippings.

“The good news is that I found a solution.” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Solution to what, sweetheart?”

“Your funding. There are three organisations that you can go to. Your current employer left a loophole in your contract that we can exploit.”

Mom was left speechless. Eventually there is only one thing she can ask. “What’s the bad news?”

I open my third eye to make sure. It hurts with so little magic, but I need to know there is no other way. “The bad news is that there are six people who are going to inevitably use these machines as a public excuse to pollute more. And sixty more who will decide so in private. Your designs will not embark humanity on a new course towards greener energy. And without drastic measures, the human race will be extinct within the century.”

The bad news, in effect, is that I am not done killing yet.

I am still Queen Hayate. And I refuse to rule over a kingdom of rubble.

They stole you from your world when you were but a young girl, and they forged you into a magical weapon that has been feared across the cosmos. Now that the war is over and you’ve won, they send you back to the moment before they captured you. The skills, PTSD, and memories? Those never fade.

[daisynik7]

HI MY PRECIOUS ANGEL BABY SNOOKUMS<3 i missed you so so much, and i've arrived with a boatload of love and cuddles to make up for the eons i was gone, hold me. i write to you while mildly sleep-deprived (the amount of spelling and grammar errors 🤡), binging dog kennel shows, and on my third peach green tea Celsius (caffeinated energy drink) but overall nourished and (maybe) over-hydrated lol.

oml, when we last spoke i said i’d be in for a busy week HOWEVER i wasn’t expecting the shitshow awaiting me all i can say is (tmi) uti’s suck 🫠 long story short i’ve been staying with/ helping family who was admitted to the hospital a few nights ago and staying the night but i’m actually running on fumes a.) i’m not sleeping in my bed and i take forever to adjust b.) because i’m fucking paranoid the wrong meds will be administered because it’s happened before 🥲 luckily recovery is happening and hoping for discharge soon:)

but i miss you dearly enough about my shitshow, how have you been????????? i’m penciling time to catch up but did the office let you work from home? and of course, how was your weekend spent? anything special plans? or just catch up on rest? i hope you’re being extra kind to yourself and spoiled yourself with something nice, even small things! 

i hope this week goes swimmingly for you, i’m not sure if the weather is warmer but regardless i expect you to stay warm and cozy, stay hydrated and nourish your body, a polite reminder to step away from the things that you simply can’t control because you my sweet don’t deserve nor need that kind of burden and negativity! and as we’ve agreed, if i say it, then it must be so and this is especially non-negotiable 🥰 

i hope the day starts and ends well for you, i’m not sure if the tech issues at the office have been resolved, or if you’re still wfh, but you’ve got this! proud of you! your message was well received and kept safe and cherished in my inbox 💞 even if i'm not here daily always here for you and by your side! sending so many cuddles! so much love! so many hugs! so many kisses! i love you daisy!!!!! <3

i want to say i tried to comb through my rambling but the caffeine said no lol 🫣

WIFEY AHHHHH I'M SO HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU!! I've missed you so so much too snookums.

I'm really sorry to hear about the uti, god that sounds so painful and uncomfortable. please keep me updated with how you're feeling and when you're finally discharged. I'm glad to hear you're on the way there. sending you kisses, flowers, and snuggles for you to get well soon. also, I really hope they don't give you the wrong meds!! 😕

I've been okay! I had to go into the office, but it's fine. I had a pretty chill weekend and got some writing done. then yesterday I had some friends over for pizza and gossip, which is always fun hehe. I'm always working on being kinder to myself and I think I'm doing a good job at it so far! please remember to be kind to yourself too after the week you've had! I feel so bad you had to suffer through that!

It's still cold here, but not as much as before! Is it getting warmer for you too? I know you're not in your usual bed right now, but I hope that you have something there to keep you cozy and comfortable!

Thank you for these important reminders! I've been much better about not focusing on things I can't control and that's made my experiences much more positive.

I hope today and the rest of your week goes well! Rest up and take care of yourself! I can't believe you have to deal with this right now, I feel so bad. I wish I could somehow take away the pain and discomfort you're currently feeling. Sending you so much love, good healing vibes, and my most loving kisses. 💗 I love you so dearly thea

[featherstcnes]

continued from [x] @destroyerof

natasha had lived plenty of lives. the latest, however? she would have preferred it to have never existed. she always knew shield did anything and everything to get what they wanted. she just had never quite imagined that the day that was supposed to be the happiest of her life turned into the day that would prove to haunt every thought and every action for years to come. she could remember the day so vividly. the way she felt the bullet hit her chest, the way the darkness took over all of her senses. the taste of blood in her mouth while everything had went dark as she stared up at daisy. she'd woken up on a ship, not even sure how many days later, an iv in her arm and people running around around her. everything had been ruined, and nothing had been the same ever since.

she'd lost trust in the people she was meant to sacrifice everything for. she hadn't cooperated for weeks as she'd healed. but eventually, she had to say something. natasha had no problem not cooperating for the rest of her life -- if they wanted to keep her locked away, then they could. but she found herself hoping that if she found a way out, she could get back to daisy.

it hadn't happened.

she knew they were tracking her even before she'd strayed away from the mission and had someone intercepting her just a few hours later. natasha knew how this worked. she'd been a pawn for years, doing the bidding of people that owned her. and so she did what she knew best -- she threw herself into the mission. deep undercover. it wasn't just a simple mission that would be over in a few weeks. this was months, years, of pretending she was someone else. bringing down an organization from the inside out. that was something she knew how to do. she knew how to get close to important people, to make them trust her. she'd done it her entire life. hell, she'd even done it her first few years in shield out of instinct.

marina orlova. another alias to add to the list.

she'd tried to not let the emotion show on her face when the person from shield had shown her the file about her new alias. marina. a friend, a best friend, that had turned into nothing more than an assignment. she'd taken the name as her alias without a complaint. she'd use that name like a weapon. a silent promise that she'd help take down everyone and everything in her way to avenge her old friend.

natasha had pulled the trigger, yes. but the red room had killed her.

completing her mission was easy. it had taken years. years that she would never get back or replace. she did what shield wanted her to do. she'd brought ruin to organizations, just as she had in her past. she'd taken out powerful men that no doubt would cause uproars. what was another few enemies to add to the list of people that wanted her dead?

after it was over, she'd been given a new assignment: find this mysterious person that was wreaking havoc. creating disasters. take them out.

an easy target, supposedly. except when every single piece of intel led her back to daisy johnson, she'd wanted to back out. but she couldn't. she'd find her. but she wouldn't kill her. couldn't.

she wasn't sure how she'd ever be able to, even if shield tried to force her hand.

truthfully, natasha wasn't sure what would happen. she'd expected hostility. she never expected daisy to be happy she was standing in front of her. her intel had told her that there was multiple people with her -- a team. natasha prepared herself for that. she'd gotten herself out of situations with more people than this fighting against her, she could handle this. or at least that was what she told herself.

as a man spoke harshly towards her, natasha didn't even bother raising a weapon. it wasn't worth it. not yet, anyway. she could ensure that half the people in this room were wounded or dead before someone could even blink, if she wanted to.

" you want me to explain everything in ten seconds? " a part of her wanted to laugh. looking at daisy, at the expression on her face, it was like she was looking at someone completely different. in some ways, she recognized the woman in front of her. but that softness in her gaze was gone. any love that daisy once had was gone. natasha knew that she shouldn't look for any of that in her expression before she'd walked in on everyone, and yet, she still had.

" if you think i planned any of this, then you're blinded by whatever lies are in your head. " natasha didn't know enough about what happened after that day she'd 'died'. any time she'd asked about daisy to whoever had organized her mission, people avoided her questions. they'd said they helped with things after her death, and that was all the information she'd been given. natasha had a feeling that was a lie. " if i told you what happened, would you even really believe me? would you call me a liar? " natasha wouldn't blame her -- she didn't trust anyone these days, either. she'd given up on trusting anyone after she'd found out that the same organization that saved her was trapping her into a mission she couldn't get out of.

natasha shook her head. maybe she'd just walked in here to greet death as an old friend. maybe she was destined to have everyone she'd once loved and trusted turn on her.

" if you're so angry, have your guard dog do the dirty work. " natasha motioned her head towards the man that had held a blade towards her. " kill me. " she walked closer towards the man, her hands still not reaching towards any weapons on her body. " do it, " she challenged, louder, eyes focused on the man. she wasn't threatening her life for no reason -- it was partially a way to really see the hierarchy here. to see exactly who listened to who. to see how far she could push someone before daisy couldn't stop them or just wouldn't want to. " or do you want the honors yourself? " natasha turned her gaze back towards daisy. it was clear daisy was agitated already -- she could feel the effects of that.

explaining all of this would be worthless. natasha knew that. what worth was there in explaining how all of this hadn't been her idea? sure, she could have figured out a way to get to daisy almost immediately. but she hadn't. it was something she questioned herself about as she stayed undercover. but she had to finish the mission. and she had. it just so happened that her next one brought her back to daisy, anyway. and to get anywhere, to find anything, she had to get through to daisy somehow. but as natasha stalled with her words, her piercing gaze, she still was coming up empty. this wasn't the daisy she knew. it was the furthest thing from that.

" look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you think i made the choice to drop off the face of the earth. that you think i would have ever made the choice to do this. "

[halfmoonshines]

Ohhh!!! I loved your Leo Fitz one shot!!!! Can you do one where he and the reader are in an argument and one of them blurts out I Love You for the first time and it leads to their first kiss?

Yes yes! As always, every time someone requests something I get so excited. ((Note written after; I kind of struggled with this? Let me know if it's what you were wanting!))

Tension

Summary; Field Agent!Reader makes a questionable call while on a mission, Leo doesn't know how else to get her to understand.

You gave Jemma a small smile when she finished your stitches, trying not to wince as you hopped off the exam table.

"No field work for at least a week, Y/N, I mean it. That was a deep cut and you'll pull your stitches." Jemma informed with a stern look.

You nodded, giving her a mock salute. "You got it."

You exited the lab and ran a hand over your face, exhaustion creeping in your muscles as you head toward your quarters at the lighthouse. Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you furrowed your brow at the lack of notifications. Leo was always waiting when you got back from a mission, whether it was 2pm or 2am, but you'd yet to see him tonight. Your best friend had a bit of a protective streak in him.

"Hey, Mack?" You called out to grab the Director's attention. "Have you seen Fitz?"

"Not since this morning, no."

That didn't really sit right. "Thanks." You continued on your trek to your room, hoping he was just there waiting.

Sure enough, there he was. Leaning against the wall opposite the door with his arms crossed, jaw clenched tightly as he just stared at you when you walked in.

You paused inside the door, shutting it slowly behind you and tilting your head to the side. "Is something wrong, Leo?"

"What did Jemma say?"

"Uh, she just told me no field work for a week. Had a few stitches but I'll heal up fine."

He scoffed, kicking off the wall and running a hand through his hair. "How many stitches is that in the last year, then?"

You were thoroughly confused. "It's the job, right? Sometimes you get injured-"

"Sometimes being the operative word there, Y/N. It's like every single time you step foot in the field you end up with something broken or bleeding. Do you have no regard for your own safety?" He had come to a stop in front of you, hands on his hips.

It was your turn to cross your arms, brows furrowing. "Of course I care about my safety. Is there a reason you decided to wait in my room so you can jump on me about something that's never been a problem before?"

"It's always been a problem. I was just hoping at some point you would start caring about yourself a bit more, but you just keep jumping into the line of fire-"

"I didn't have a choice, Leo! That guy was literally going to stab Daisy in the back if I hadn't gotten in the way. Better a small cut in my side than a knife in her spine."

"But it's not better. Why is you being hurt the always the preferred option?"

You shook your head, eyes boring into his. "It's not the preferred, it's just want happens! You think I enjoy being injured? Why are you so upset about this?"

"Because I love you, damn it! And it's hell! It's absolute hell sitting here, waiting for you to come home knowing full well there's going to be a day when you just don't." He was breathing heavily, a pleading look in his eyes.

You paused for a moment, his words replaying in your head. "What do you mean you love me, Leo?"

He scoffed, walking forward and taking your face between his hands. "I mean that I love you, Y/N. I have for a long time, and I can't keep watching you sacrifice yourself. There has to be a line drawn somewhere and I don't care if-"

Your hands wrapped around the front of his shirt and pulled him down the rest of the way to you, lips capturing his in a searing kiss. He only hesitated for a moment before giving in, one of his hands moving from your cheek to grip your hair.

Pulling away, you rested your forehead on his, a smile playing at your lips.

"Is that... that was a good reaction right?" He asked with a breath of a laugh.

"I love you too, Leo. I promise to be more careful."

"Finally." With that, he pulled you into him again.

[skzsauce01]

Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.  

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”  

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—  

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

[topazy]

Silent bloom

Pairings: Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings: swearing, and character death

Chapter: 2.05

1.13

"Oh my god," Clarke gasped.

I stood speechless as I stared at the pile of dead bodies laying in the ground. What had Finn and Murphy done?

Clarke suddenly moved fast, "Daisy!"

I turned around to see Daisy stumbling to her knees. I thought I’d never see her again. Everything felt like a blur as I moved and knelt beside her. She looked like hell. I brushed her blood-stained hair out of her face and said, "I thought you were dead."

"Ditto." Hearing the small tint of happiness in her voice made my chest hurt. Daisy furrowed her brows, probably confused by mine and Clarke’s silence. "So what have I missed, Blake?"

I helped Daisy to her feet slowly, dreading what was about to happen. She let out a sound of disgust as she looked at the grounder village. I nudged Clarke light and mouthed ‘where are they?’ When I noticed Murphy and Finn had disappeared from our line of view.

Noticing Daisy swaying on her feet, I quickly caught her before she fell. I could feel her shaking as Finn quickly approached us. At first I wasn’t sure if she would be happy to see him, not knowing what had happened, but Daisy must have put the pieces together quickly, judging by how scared she looked.

I moved my arm around her, pulling her closer to me when Finn got close enough.

"I found you."

2.01

"You look lonely out here."

I stopped in my tracks when I saw Murphy sitting down beside Daisy. What the hell was he doing? They weren’t friends as far as I was aware, and he was an untrustworthy asshole. I wanted to talk to her alone before we left, but I knew being near Murphy wasn’t a good idea.

"You good?" I looked over my shoulder to see Clarke.

I nodded, "ready to go?"

"Yeah, my mom is just gathering the guards who are coming with us." I nodded and turned back to face Daisy, who was now laughing. "You know, Y/N should stay here. It’s the safest thing for her and us."

"What?" I snapped.

"Her wounds still haven’t fully healed, and her being there would just distract Finn." I opened my mouth to protest, but Clarke cut me off. "We need Finn to come with us."

Clarke stepped forward and squeezed my shoulder. "I know you care about her Bellamy, but you need to focus. The best way to help save our people is to get them out of Mount weather."

I glanced back at Daisy once more to see Octavia talking to her. Shit. O wouldn’t be very happy when she realised Daisy wasn’t coming with us.

Murphy remained in the same spot, watching as they walked away. Frowning, I turned my back to him as I made my way towards the rest of the small group that was leaving. I hoped he didn’t try anything stupid when we were gone.

2.02

"Absolutely not! Are you insane!" When Daisy asked to talk to me privately, I assumed she had come up with some kind of plan, but I never thought it would have been so dangerous.

"Stop being so loud, somebody will hear us."

I stopped walking and turned to face her. "You can’t do this, I won’t let you."

She scoffed, "let me? You don’t own me, Blake."

I fought the urge to smirk. "It’s too dangerous."

She stepped closer to me while holding my gaze. Her face was turning red with frustration. "Tell me you haven’t thought the same thing, and if you can tell me, I’ll drop this."

"We’ve talked about going into the mountains before. That’s always been a part of the plan."

"I don’t want to sneak in."

No, she just wanted to risk her life.

"You want to be bait!" I snapped.

"It makes more sense. If I get taken, they won’t be suspicious. I can fill our people in on what’s going to happen before-"

I couldn’t let her do something so reckless by herself. "We don’t know when the commander will want her people to attack. It’s too late for this plan to work."

"Right."

I knew by the look on her face when Clarke returned the night before, and explained her conversation with the commander, that she wasn’t convinced. "You don’t think the commander will agree to a truce."

She shrugged, "they have no reason to trust us."

"They will want to save their people who have been turned into reapers."

"I don’t doubt that, but once we’ve done that and stopped the mountain men, what is stopping them from slaughtering us?" She had a point. "Jasper and Monty are my family. I can’t sit back while they suffer."

She wanted to keep them safe.

"I can’t let you be bait."

Daisy opened her mouth to say something else but stopped when there was a knock at the door. "This conversation isn’t over."

Daisy’s feisty side always amused me. She stared at me, confused, as I held the door open for her. I’d just need to come up with a better solution for when this conversation continues.

2.03

"Why isn’t she waking up?" I brushed strands of bloodied hair off Daisy's face. "She should have woken up by now."

"She’s been hit on the back of the head, what do you expect?"

"Shut up Murphy!" I glared at him. I wasn’t in the mood for his sarcasm.

He rolled his eyes before walking out of the room. Raven must have been desperate to ask him to come.

"Bellamy," Clarke said softly. "She will wake up soon."

Frowning, I looked at my hands that were blood stained. This was all Finn’s fault. "She shouldn’t have been hurt in the first place."

Finn stared at me wide eyed, "I didn’t-"

"You can’t do anything for her right now," Clarke cut him off. "Bellamy, you should take watch. I’ll call you when she wakes up."

Grumbling, I went outside. No matter how hard I tried to pay attention to my surroundings, I kept thinking about Daisy and our kiss. I needed to know if she regretted it, and if not, what she wanted to happen next. I must have paced back and forth for twenty minutes before I heard something. Oh fuck. The grounders had found us.

I rushed into the drop shop. "We got company!"

"Oh fuck. We’re surrounded."

As everyone made their way outside, I froze. Daisy was awake. A wave of relief washed over me, knowing she was okay. I moved towards her quickly. "I’m glad you're okay. You made me worried for a moment."

"Thanks. But honestly, I’m still worried."

—

"If we hit them now, at least we'd take them by surprise."

Daisy shook her head. "The problem is, we don't even know how many of them are out there."

Murphy rolled his eyes, "I’m not hearing any better ideas, Daisy."

I rolled my eyes. The last thing we needed was another argument to happen. I watched Raven as she stepped forward. "We’ll give them something."

What could we possibly give them? They want revenge. "All they want is Finn."

Raven looked away from the rest of the group, as her eyes landed on Murphy. "Finn wasn't the only one at the village."

That’s why she asked him to come. Despite my hatred towards Murphy, I wasn’t going to let her do this. We can't turn on our own.

"You can’t be serious!" Daisy stared Raven down. "We aren’t handing anyone over to the grounders."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Raven, I came here to protect him. You were the one who wanted me to come." Murphy’s face twisted as he realised he’d been lured here. "You... That’s why you asked me to come along."

The Raven glared at him. "Enough Grounders saw him at the village. They’d believe he was the shooter."

"Sick bitch!" Murphy spat.

Clarke tried to calm the situation down. "Raven, you don't mean this."

"You know what they do to people?" Daisy said, stepping closer to the brunette. "They want Finn, nobody else. We can’t protect him if we are fighting among ourselves."

Raven ignored what she said and pointed her gun towards Murphy. "They want a murderer, we'll give them one."

My heart began hammering in my chest when Daisy stepped in front of Murphy. "Raven, this is insane! Put it down."

"Daisy, move out the way, I don’t want to hurt you." I could hear the uncertainty in Raven’s voice as she spoke. "Murphy, drop your weapon!"

Of course, Daisy refused to move. "Raven, stop this before somebody gets hurt!"

I wasn’t sure what shocked me more, Daisy putting herself between… Murphy and a bullet or the surprised expression on Murphy’s face. He looked as shocked as the rest of us.

Raven still refused to lower her weapon, "I said drop it."

I went to take a step forward but Clarke grabbed hold of my wrist, shaking her head. Regardless of what she thought, I went to put an end to the madness, but Finn beat me to it. "Stop! Stop! We're not doing this. They’ve got us surrounded. The only thing we can do is stay. And defend this place. Murphy?"

"Yeah?"

"Go upstairs with Daisy. You two watch the rear. I'll take the lower level. You three, take the front gate. That’s the plan. All right?"

Without saying much, we all began walking in our separate directions. I pushed down the gut feeling of something not being right.

—

I turned to face Kane, "what is she doing?"

"I think she’s saying goodbye, son."

Kane patted me on the back before whispering something to Abby. Clarke stepped outside the commander's tent and locked eyes with her mom. She shook her head. Damn it. The commander hasn’t changed her mind. We couldn’t save Finn.

A knot twisted in my stomach as I watched Daisy lean in to kiss Finn. It was devastating to know that he was going to die soon … and we couldn’t save him. Nothing we did mattered.

"No! No! No! No! No! No!"

I caught Raven as she stumbled back. I was so busy making sure she didn’t fall to the ground that I didn’t notice what had happened right away. Hearing gasps and yells, I looked up to see Finn’s body going limp. Daisy had killed him.

2.04

"You’ve been quiet." I glanced at my sister as she slowed her pace to walk beside me. "There was nothing you could have done that would have changed the grounders' law."

I let out a deep sigh. The whole situation was so frustrating. Finn dying, Raven breaking down, the mountain men still having our friends; none of it was easy.

"I know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking O?" I asked quietly.

Octavia stopped walking and looked up at me. "You're wondering why she’s not here."

My sister was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it out loud. We needed this alliance to work, we needed to get our people back. "I don’t know what-"

She raised her brows at me, "you’ve been behind everyone else for a reason. Daisy isn’t going to come running up behind us."

Gulping down, I looked away. "I just can’t believe she didn’t come or talk to us before we left."

"It’s not like she got much of a choice," Octavia nudged her head in the direction the rest of our group were walking.

"She didn’t come because of Raven?" I was confused.

"No, I overheard Clarke telling her it would be better for everyone if she stayed at camp. I tried to find her afterwards but she must have gone back."

"What exactly did she say?"

My sister's facial expression quickly changed to one of aggression, "something about how the grounders blame her for what Finn did. Daisy already blamed herself, and after what happened that was the last thing she needed to hear.”

My blood began to boil, Clarke had no right. Daisy did what she had to, the grounders would have tortured him. I thought of Atom, and how his death was an act of mercy. "It’s not right that she needs to deal with this alone now. The guilt will be chipping away at her."

"Ohh, I don’t think she’ll be alone for long."

"What?" I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.

Octavia had the same mischievous look on her face from when she was a kid," Murphy stayed behind."

"So?"

"I don’t think you're Daisy’s only admirer."

[jamiedc-they-them]

I got you (Platonic)

Requested by @emcon-imagines

“Jemma --” Daisy said, as much as she loved her friend, she knew that she still wasn’t at the top of her lying game. To be honest, she hoped that Jemma never made it there, as if that would signal some sort of end to the Jemma Simmons she knew.

Still, back on point, “Daisy...I promised Y/N…” She said. And, that did get her attention, she had promised you something.

“I just wanna help her, Simmons. I mean, you’ve seen her...Tired, not herself. Not the bubbly person we all know. Something’s going on…” She knew how this would seem to anyone else; someone interrogating someone, almost gaslighting in some way to get some information.

But, the two women knew better; it was two friends trying to help another.

Besides, the three had formed their own group; the term “power puffs” being thrown around a lot. Still, not the point --

“I didn’t just swear and drop my concern, Daisy. I wanted to help too…” She trailed off, and Daisy nodded for her to continue, “I did to her that she would probably get yelled at...but, she brushed it off at the time. I don’t think Fitz’s sarcasm helped it either.”

“What’d he say?”

“‘What’s the worst thing that could happen? I mean, yeah, you’ll probably get yelled at, but it’s not like she’s going to kill you.’ And I said, ‘Not helping’ and...Oh, sorry.” She said, catching herself.

Daisy smiled, “It’s alright, Jem. Just, tell me, please. I’ll stop after that.”

Jemma could never say now the puppy dog expression Daisy Johnson could pull off, “...That’s the problem, she isn’t stopping.But, she told me to not bother you about it. She knows how you can be with this and...she doesn’t want to worry anyone else. She says she can handle it.” The Brit said, almost in one entire breath.

“Famous last words, sadly in some cases.” Daisy said, looking out the window before back to Jemma, “Where is she now?”

As Jemma went to answer, her gaze changed; she looked alert, “Well...there.” She said, nodding her head behind Daisy.

The woman turned, seeing you walk in, bag over your shoulder from yet another assignment...yet another few months undercover.

If you were good at hiding the strain of the work before, this was not one of those times; with the heaviness in your eyes, worn down expression and posture of your body.

It was getting to you.

Daisy then looked to Jemma, giving her friend a pat on the arm, “I got this.” She promised, before taking her leave.

She wasn’t one to break them.

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

You had put the weapons away, and was getting ready for the ebrie. Just ready to get that ticked off, then wait until the next job comes your way. You had to keep going, SHIELD was always cut throat, but especially now; you were on the back foot and what not. You had to prove yourself to Coulson, he brought you and Daisy in and kept you in despite what you had done to them.

That had to be worth something.

You went with your bag, a bag mixed with your own things and the contents of the sting. Smart? No, not really. But, you were working with limited time. So, you know.

Besides, Coulson had cleared it and said it was fine.

So, you went into the kitchen, gonna go upstairs to get it all done with, when you paused…

There, on her laptop, was your sister, just typing away.

Given the fact of the bottle of water she had was only just opened, you had to guess that she had only just set up.

“Hey.” She said, looking up at you from the table, smiling as if you hadn’t caught her in the act.

“Hey.” You said back, dropping the bag to the floor. You both held each others stare for a moment too long; you had been in each others lives for forever, so you could read each other like a book.

“Been there long?” You asked, hands going in your pocket. You knew the answer, but still…

“Nah, just waiting for you.” She said, moving to sitting on the table, legs dangling off of it, “Just wanted to see if you were ok.”

You held your arms out to your side for a moment, a kind of “here I am” gesture, before letting them slap against your body as you let them drop, “I’m ok...Just want to get up there.” You said, pinching your nose as you closed your eyes for a moment; a rare moment of letting this toll be known to the world in a way that was intentional.

Daisy saw a way in there, “You tired? I mean, sleep deprivation and mental health issues don’t really go hand in hand...You’re gonna snap.”

You nodded, same posture as before, “Sure. Just wanna get up there and do this, D.”

“Coulson doesn’t need it right now.”

“He does.” You argued.

She sighed, the Johnson gene of stubbornness surely rubbing off on you, “Look, Y/N/N, I get it. But, AC -- Well, DC, is more than ok with this. Trust me.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll do shit like that when you do.” Ok, fair; did it hit? Yeah, but she wasn’t a sunken battleship yet...that phrase was weird.

Anyways, “Y/N,” She started, getting up and grabbing your hands in her own, looking you right in the eyes, “You’re tired, ok? Actually tired….I mean, look, you can barely stand right now. What you need, is rest. Ok?”

Out of the siblings, you weren’t as open as she was. But, as said before, she knew you better than anyone else. And, because of that, you could be yourself with her. You let yourself nod, eyes dropping to the ground. She squeezed your hands, smile coming onto her face.

It was like that Skye part of her, the inner child of her’s that needed healing was alway there; the optimist that refused to see the dark.

Still, she grabbed your bag, putting an arm around your shoulder, and leading you to your room.

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

Your room was a fucking mess. Jesus, was it a mess. Now, Jemma had told Daisy that she had no one touch it; no one go in or even put their hand on the door knob.

But...it was messy, to say the least.

The two of you stood, silently looking at the state of your room; clothes everywhere, doors left open, bed sheets unorganised.

She heard your breath shudder a bit. It seemed you had forgotten that the room was left like this. Then again, she was sure you were almost leading two - well, now really more than two - lives at once; SHIELD, your own, and the many undercover personas you had to adapt to.

Hunter’s lecture about SHIELD not being a lifestyle but a job was true; granted, it was a belief in the world and the good that laid in it, but he still had a point.

It seemed for you, those two had fully blurred into on destructive, stress filled life. And it was slowly killing you.

You entered first, grabbing some clothes from the floor and going into your bathroom, locking the door.

She, meanwhile, went to your bed, smelling them and groaning at the stink that came from them.

She put the bag down, picking up some of your other clothes - less yours, more SHIELD’s clothes that they gave to operatives.

There was no style, only a branded shirt (some actually were, but that’s not the point) to say “Shoot at me, I’m with the people you guys at HYDRA hate!”

She put them away, the clothes coloured black. She remembered when you used to have a more colourful attire, an expression to who you were.

No, it was just SHIELD.

After the clothes had been sorted, she then sat on the floor, opening the bag. She looked up at the sound from your bathroom, a shower being turned on.

She looked back to the bag, seeing bags of cocaine, some files...and your clothes. One of the bags had a hole in, and some of the contents had gone from the bag and onto your own clothes. These ones were yours...now stained with coke.

With work…

The shower was still going. And she knew that you were devoted to these people...but what had you lost in the process?

She went further into the bag, digging deep into it. It took a few moments, but she found something, her fingers brushed against something…

Removing her hand from the bag, she found a necklace; she smiled, this one more nostalgic. It was a necklace that you had both gotten together with some money you had both saved. Inside there was a photo of the pair of you…

You’d kept it, you were still there.

She looked to the door, the shower was still going. She looked to the clothes...she could make a quick trip…

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

She came back, clothes in her possession, but no bag. The bag was with Coulson, but the clothes and necklace she kept.

She came back in, putting the clothes on the bed. The door opened, and you emerged, now in sleep gear.

“Hey.” You said.

She smiled, “Hey.” She said back.

“Can - can you uh, can you stay for the night? Just...after all that, and what you said...I think I could use a break…?”

Her smile softened, “Of course.” She said.

You were still you...you still had your own life.

SHIELD wasn’t your lifestyle, just a belief in the world and a job.

[snelbz]

I'll Be Seeing You {6}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @tacmc.

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 1696

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Nesta had no idea what had happened.

She was shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of the night nurses, quickly hurrying her out of the tent she shared with a few other nurses in hushed tones. She pulled her robe around her tighter, the nightgown she wore was perfectly fine with the warm fire crackling in the hearth, but in the crisp autumn air, it left her shivering.

As did the reason she’d been awakened in the middle of the night. One of her patients she’d been solely residing over had taken an unexpected turn at some point in the evening. Infection. Fever.

She felt shaky and hollow as she pushed through the tent flaps. She knew it made her a horrible person, but she couldn’t help but pray it was anyone except—

There were two nurses hovering beside Cassian’s cot and she thought she was going to be physically sick.

“What’s happened?” Nesta asked as she approached. It had been meant to have been firm, direct, but it came out shaky.

“He was sleeping peacefully, but then he started to stir and groan,” Claire explained. “When I came over he was drenched in sweat. I checked the gunshot wounds on his back and the burns. There were no bandages. I’m not sure how he had gotten them off—.”

A ringing in Nesta’s ears drowned out the rest of Claire’s words, but it didn’t matter what the nurse said, Nesta knew the cause of Cassian’s downfall.

It had been her.

She had been cleaning his wounds when the soldier had been rushed in earlier that morning, had left Cassian to help. When the soldier had died, Madja had ordered Nesta to go clean up and she had left the tent…

It had all happened so fast.

She had lost a life, and it distracted her from her thoughts, her further duties.

She had never gone back to finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

And, of course, Cassian had said nothing.

“I didn’t know what to—.”

Nesta cut Claire off, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts. She knew she was to blame, but wouldn’t alert Claire to that knowledge. “He needs a dose of penicillin, maybe two, depending on how far the infection has spread.”

Claire nodded, the other two nurses having moved on to check on other patients, most of whom slept peacefully. When she kept standing there, nodding, Nesta snapped, “Now, please.”

She blinked and was off, hurrying to the medical cabinet in the center of the tent.

Leaning down over his bed, Nesta placed a hand on either side of his face. “Cassian?”

His skin was hot, clammy and he was covered in sweat. She swore quietly. He felt like he’d been lying in front of a furnace for a few hours.

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t rise to consciousness.

Claire returned, a syringe in one hand and a glass bottle in the other. Nesta took it, surprised by how steady her hands were. She felt as if they should be as shaky as her breathing had become, but she quickly and efficiently administered the dose, holding a small piece of gauze over his arm where she’d stuck him.

“Should I… Would you like to go back to bed?” Claire asked. “I can watch him while I make my rounds.”

Nesta shook her head as she sat down in the chair next to the cot. “No, I— I need to stay with him.”

Claire hesitated, but nodded and excused herself.

Nesta would wait with him, would keep him company, because it was all her fault.

She told herself that was the only reason, but as she reached up to brush his damp hair back, she knew she was only fooling herself.

But fool herself, she would.

This was war. He was a soldier. Aside from being completely inappropriate, considering she was his nurse, one should never get involved with a soldier.

It often only led to heartbreak.

His face was flushed, even though his lips were bloodless, and he looked so…frail. Even when he’d first been brought in, bloody and burned, he hadn’t looked so helpless. Nesta couldn’t look away from him.

She knew no one else was around, knew the other nurses may have been nosy and curious, but they would give Nesta this privacy. And because of that she reached out and took his hand, gently holding it in hers.

Was it really just earlier in the day that he’d held her hand after coming to check on her after that poor soldier had passed? The thought, that he considered her feelings more important than his own healing, had her fingers tightening around his.

I could see myself loving a woman like you.

She tried not to think about the thrill his words sent through her, then or now. It was highly inappropriate, especially considering they barely knew each other. But there was just…something about him. She reached out with her free hand and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Still clammy. Still burning up.

Again, his eyelids shifted, but they didn’t open. The penicillin would keep him down for a while.

She wouldn’t be sleeping, though. Not any time soon.

With a defeated sigh, Nesta took the book off of the small table by Cassian’s cot. He had read a little more that afternoon, it had seemed. He was nearing chapter six, and Nesta couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the coming chapters.

Especially in regards to his beloved Daisy.

She opened to the page he was on and took out the leather strap that marked it. It was old and worn, and she found herself wondering how long he’d had it, how long it had held his hair back. She wondered how long he’d had long hair. She assumed always. It was hard to imagine him with short hair.

It just wouldn’t look right.

He stirred on the cot before her, and Nesta’s eyes jerked up to him, but he still didn’t wake. She watched him for another moment, making sure he was sleeping peacefully, then looked back down at the scrap of leather in her hand.

It occurred to her how little she knew about him then. She knew about his mother and lack of a father, but he’d mentioned brothers. Were they blood or was it more in a camaraderie sort of way? And who were they? Did he love them the way she loved her own sisters?

Perhaps she had been selfish thus far, in asking so little about him. Usually the man never shut up, was always making sarcastic remarks with his raunchy humor, and now as he lay unconscious, she wanted him to speak.

She wanted to ask him questions.

He mentioned Velaris, but Nesta had only been there once as a child and didn’t remember much from it. She wanted to ask him about it, ask him what it was like growing up in the famous City of Starlight.

She wanted to ask about those brothers of his, if he had any other siblings, and how his mother, who had never married, survived it, living in the world that they did.

She wanted to ask if he’d ever had any pets, what his favorite subject was in school, if he’d ever broken a bone or climbed a tree for fun or been in an airplane.

She wanted to know where this scrap of leather came from that she had been fiddling in between her fingers for far too long.

Eventually, she rested her head against her own arm, still holding onto his fingers in one hand and clutching that strap of leather in the other. It didn’t take long before she was asleep herself.

A few hours later, a firm hand on her shoulder had her jolting awake. She sat up quickly, finding Madja standing behind her.

Standing, she cleared her throat, releasing Cassian’s hand, still holding onto that piece of leather. “Madja, I—.”

A gentle smile was on the old healer's face. “You should get changed, Nesta.”

Glancing down at her open robe and nightgown, Nesta blushed and nodded, before replacing the strap of leather in the book she’d leant to him.

The sun was up, but the chill in the air told her it hadn’t been for long. She hurried across the camp to the tent she shared with a few other nurses. Quickly changing, she tied a fresh apron around her waist and was surprised to find Madja standing outside the tent as she emerged, still braiding her hair back.

“Walk with me,” she said, and took off, not waiting to see if she followed.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel like she was a child about to be scolded.

“There is no rule stating you can’t have feelings for your patient, Nesta,” she said, glancing over at her.

Nesta blinked, not expecting her to be so blunt. She immediately went on the defensive. “I don’t have—.”

Madja gave her a look that told her the woman knew she was full of shit. She went on. “This isn’t a formal job. There is no rule book saying you can’t fraternize with others. He’s very handsome, and it’s clear he’s taken quite a shine to you. But remember where we are, what we’re doing. Why we’re here.”

Nesta nodded, hesitantly.

She knew.

The soldiers came in, they healed, and they left, went back to war.

And that’s exactly what Cassian would do, Nesta was fully aware of that fact. There was no romance, there was no happily ever after, not when it came to war.

“I just want you to be careful,” Madja continued, her voice gentle. “I have seen young women, time and time again, fall for men who did not come home. It is okay to feel for another, my dear, but you must remember the risks.”

The risks. It was a long list.

“I was not planning on anything happening between myself and the Major,” Nesta said, at last.

Madja’s smile was soft. “That’s always when it happens, Nesta. When no plans are made.”