#i tried to stick with the canon as much as i could and build their backstories and characters based on the canon material

[furioussouls]

Lovesick! Vi

[chubby reader]

Warnings: MINORS DNI;nsfw, fluff, angst (alcohol , crying),canon divergence (Noxus doesnt invade but Vi's life is still shit), chubby afab! reader, unhealthy dynamics (?), extreme touch starved Vi

Disclaimer: Vi is a character from the show "Arcane" made by Riot Games and Fortiche Productions. The Characters, lore references and world building belong solely to the creators.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚

• lovesick!Vi, who meets you when her life has gone to shit. She meets you after one of her fights in the pit. You were working as a bartender near the pitfighting arena. Vi's pink- red hair was impossible to miss, even stained with the black dye she messily applied to her hair. You have seen her multiple times before in the last few days, so you stare at her from top to bottom; her beautiful hair, her gorgeous face, which was scrunched up with a general disdain for life, her muscular tattooed biceps and her bandaged hands. You sighed and walked over to where she was sitting and sat her glass down in front of her. Her eyes snapped up at you and she looked at you with an annoyed expression.

"Water. On the house. It even has expensive ice in it, so enjoy our lavish service.", you said sarcastically and grinned at her. Her expression remained, but she scanned you from top to bottom and didn't retort anything back, which is a win in your book. Her eyes fixated on your torso and she picked the glass up and chugged it all down; her gaze remaining on your body. You rolled your eyes and turned away- you were round. Very much so. Curves and squishy softness as far as one could see. Very different from her muscular body. You wiped the counters and poured drinks for everbody else, when Vi spoke up: "I did not ask you for the damn ice nor for the water.", her voice was melodic and husky. You turned around to face her and looked at her expression; she tried to appear tough, but you could see through the facade.

"You did not have to. I wanted to give you the iced water, so I did. Sometimes, that's all there is to it." The side of Vi's lip curled down and she squinted her beautiful, blue eyes.

"Am I supposed to throw myself at your feet now?", she hissed out.

You raised an eyebrow at her and rubbed your hands over your plush biceps. "No. You're supposed to drink it and shut the fuck up. If I had known you would've made such a big deal of it, I would've done my one good deed for the day with somebody else, Vi."

"How the fuck do you know my name?", she barked out.

You looked at her incredulously an pointed under your eye "Your fucking tattoo with your name on it? If you're that hungover, go home."

Vi's cheeks blushed a perfect red and she looked down. You poured two glasses of water and sat one down in front of one of your other regulars and Vi. "Drink it. This time without a fuss. Come back once you've slept more than three hours." You said to Vi and pointed to her eyebags. You turned around and mixed some drinks for the rest of your customers. You didn't see Vi again that night.

•lovesick!Vi who came back to you a few days later. It was a very busy night when she came and you looked at her eyebags, which have improved since the last time she was here. You smiled at her and asked her in your perfect customer service voice "Good evening, ma'am. What can I get you?"

Vi scrunched her nose in disgust and shook her head. A laugh bubbled out of you and her expression relaxed- it was a tiny bit, but you saw it anyway. "Let's stick to our first names", she said quietly and you nodded and introduced yourself with your first name and hold out your hand.

Vi gripped it gently and you sighed; her hand was scarred, warm and calloused, a big contrast to your chubby and soft fingers, Her eyes remained on your hands and her thumb made move to gently caress your hand but she stopped her thumb before it could get too far.

Vi cleared her throat and let go off your hand "I want a beer, please." You nodded and began working.

•lovesick!Vi and you got into a comfortable rhythm of seeing each other every other day. You both didnt talk that much but you were in each others presence, only sometimes exchanging words with each other and on her bad days, you silently poured Vi a drink after she won her fights. This rhythm stretched a few weeks- almost up to a month when the two of you got closer.

Your shift ended and you walked out of the bar when you saw Vi leaning against a wall. Her hair grew past her shoulder on one side, the other still completely short. The black hair dye has almost completely washed out but there's still traces of it near her scalp. She mustered you from top to bottom and walked towards you. She held out her hand wordlessly and you rolled your eyes and handed her your bag. You both walked next to each other silently til you spoke up hesitantly.

"Vi?"

"What's up?", she asked and gently bumped against your soft side.

"You don't have to answer my question, alright? If I'm too nosy you can just tell me to shut the fuck up, no hard feelings."

Vi's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she nodded.

"Why do you fight? You know, the pitfighting. Not judging you at all, it's a job just like every other job. But..You know. If you need a safe job, I can put in a good word with my boss for you. You could start as a janitor. Not the most glamorous job, but it's an honorable one and the pay is good and stable.", you rambled nervously.

Vi silently looked at the ground for a few seconds and then smiled. "It's the only thing I'm good at. The only thing I was ever useful for."

"I don't think that's the truth.", you said and Vi looked at you in annoyance. "We hang out a little and you think you know my entire life story, sweet thing?", she asked with a scrunched up nose and furrowed eyebrows.

You raised an eyebrow "Sweet thing? And, no. I hang out with you and notice that you're punishing yourself for something. Everyone with an inkling of sense would notice it. I don't know what it is, but you need to stop. You can't shoulder the blame for everything in the world."

Vi's jaw dropped and her nostrils flared. The side of her mouth tugged downwards again, and before she could retort with her angry jabs, you gently cupped her cheek. Her blue eyes widened, her anger forgotten.

"It's alright. Be mad at me if that helps you feel better, but it doesn't change what I said. You deserve better than how you yourself and others have treated you. Give yourself grace. None of us have acted as well as we should have." You gave her face a gentle squeeze and for Vi's sake, you ignored the tears that were forming in her eyes. You bent down and took your bag, which she was tightly gripping underneath her clenched hands.

You turned around and walked a few steps forward when you heard a loud sob. You spun around and saw Vi's pretty face was scrunched up in sorrow, big fat tears rolled down her cheeks and sobs wreaked through her like a child. You dropped your bag and walked back to her and wrapped your soft warms around her. She cried into your shoulder and rubbed her face into your neck. Every second she seemed to get worse and then she dropped to her knees with you in her arms. You gently scratched at her scalp with your nails and she shuddered. You breathed in the comforting scent of Vi; mint and raspberry soap, as she continued to cry her little heart out.

You don't know how much time passed when Vi was calm enough to get up again. You rose first and she stayed on her knees and looked up at you with hooded eyes. You cupped her face again and she leaned into your soft palm like a puppy. Her eyes closed. You gently helped her stand up and interlinked arms with her.

"I'm taking you to my place tonight. You shouldn't be alone", Vi sniffed and nodded. You interlaced your fingers with her bigger ones and she looked down at your joined hands. "Sorry.", you said and made move to pull your hand away and Vi whimpered and tightened her grip. You nodded and tightened your own grip as well and made move to pick up your bag, but Vi had already bent down and picked it up with her other hand.

Once you both reached your small apartment, Vi looked at you hesitantly. You gave her some of your clothes, which she seemed to snuggle into and you laid her down into your cramped bed. Both of you laid next to each other and had your hands interlaced again. Vi and you both faced each other and you gently caressed your hand through Vi's hair and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Sweet thing. I call you that, because you're the sweetest thing the undercity has to offer", her hand tenderly kneaded your squishy hip "you're soft. The softest thing I've ever seen. More than I deserve." Vi's lip wobbled and you hugged her face into your chest. She cried into your chest again and wrapped her muscular arms around you, clinging to you like a lifeline.

This was the day that Vi opened up about her entire past to you, crying in your soft arms. Surrounded by your warmth.

•lovesick!Vi stuck to you like glue after that night. She sat down in front of you while you worked your shift and the bar. Her chin was resting on her hands and she gazed up at you as if you hung the stars. Her big, blue puppy eyes were full love and she never let you out of sight.

You smiled at her and the sides of her mouth tugged upward, when you leaned over and gently booped her nose. Her eyes closed happily and she held onto your hand before you pulled it away completely. She kissed each individual finger and rubbed her cheek against it.

"Want some water?", you asked her and gently squished her cheeks together, her heart shape lips forming almost a perfect heart. She nodded and you chuckled and rolled your eyes.

•lovesick!Vi's first time kissing you was on your couch after another one of her pitfights, you put some antiseptic on her bloody knuckles and bandaged her wounds. You bit your lip and sighed in anger. Vi's gaze was turned down to her shoes, but then she asked: "Are you mad at me?"

You looked at her and considered her question. "Yes", you said honestly. "I'm not expecting you to change, Vi. Thats unrealistic and also stupid, but yes. I am mad at you for continuing to put yourself in that damn pit just to get beat up over and over again."

Vi nodded, she understood you, but was also very thankful that you understood that she can't just give her only source of income up. "We have to consider other options, though. Vi, I mean it. Maybe I can take care of us both while you look at empty buildings in our neighbourhood. There are so many parents who want their kids to be able to fight. Maybe you could teach them and earn money with it." You thought outloud when you suddenly heard a snicker.

"You gonna be my provider while I chase my dreams, sweet thing? You wanna take care of me, hm?" Vi grinned and leaned forward. She gently squished your cheeks amd kissed your forehead. You rolled your eyes when suddenly you felt Vi's soft, heart-shaped lips on your own. You gasped into her mouth and Vi gently licked against your top lip. Her hands wrapped tightly around your hips and she hoisted you up on her lap. Her hand was buried in the back of your head and she pulled you even closer as both of your tongues softly explored the other ones mouth.

•lovesick!Vi who was pussydrunk and she hasn't even started eating your pussy yet. She kissed along your thick thighs and bit down on the inner part of it. You moaned and clenched your thigh around Vi. She moaned sweetly and buried her nose in your clothed pussy and inhaled deeply. "My sweet thing", she whispered, her voice as sweet as honey and sex. Vi pulled down your panties with her teeth and bundled them up in her hand. She couln't take it anymore after she pulled your panties up to her nose and took a deep breath. She shuddered and removed your panties from her face and exchanged it with the real thing; she buried her face in your fat pussy. You moaned loudly when Vi's perfect tongue flicked against your clit and you entangled your fingers in her hair and pulled her closer. Vi's sweet moans echoed through the room and you whined and rubbed your pussy along her face.

"Yes, baby. Use my face like a sex toy, that's what I'm here for, c'mon sweet thing. Give it to me." she groaned out and looked up at you through hooded eyes, her musculuar biceps flexed as she held her body up.

You began thrusting against Vi's face at record speed. Were you a little less horny right now, you'd be afraid of breaking Vi's perfect bumpy nose, but right now, you couldn't care less.

Loud slurps and loud cries rang throughout the room, when Vi's pretty lips wrapped your puffy clit and she sucked heavily, your body shook and you cried loudly as you reached your orgasm. Vi's soft kitten licks calmed your body down as embarassment heated your face. Vi smiled and cooed "What's got you so embarassed?", she grinned and laid down next to you. You hid your face in her chest and she laughed and smoothed her hand over your back.

You looked up at her happy face and gently laid on top of her. She followed your gaze as you gently pulled her pants down. You looked at her pussy and spread her pussy lips to reveal your sopping wet present.

"My goodness, Vi. Seems like someone liked my pussy more than expected,huh?"; you grinned at her and Vi's face heated up in embarassment and she whined. "Don't be mad, baby. I'll give you whatever you want." Your fingers slid easily into her pretty hole and she sighed happily. She didn't need much more to cum. Just a few of your pretty fingers inside of her and your pretty mouth working with her clit- and you were very good at following orders, especially the orders of your pretty girlfriend. You pumped your fingers gently in and out of her and rubbed circles along her engorged clit with your thumb. You leaned forward and sucked it and picked up the speed at which you were fucking her with. It didn't take long for her to cum and she squirmed and bucked as she rode the wave of her orgasm. You both laid next to each other and Vi cuddled into you as her strong hands gently massaged your boobs.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Vi".

ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

@blackdykegirlblogger thank you for helping me out <3

[reason-with-the-underdog]

you were not mine to save -> to be loved is to be changed

i keep thinking about how

if you boil down alhaitham & kaveh's akademiya-era fallout fight, it was that alhaitham wanted to change kaveh & kaveh could never agree with his proposed course of action

but now, as full grown adults, alhaitham isnt trying to change kaveh anymore

that core conflict does reoccur, as it did during Parade of Providence when alhaitham lectured kaveh after Act II & kaveh got annoyed

(even though Alhaitham was obviously just worried about kaveh's health/wellbeing...)

this is a common pattern of behavior for them: alhaitham is worried about kaveh & kaveh reacts defensively to it

which speaks to how stubborn & hyper-independent kaveh is

despite being someone who's dedicated to giving back to the community and contributing towards the larger social good, he's quite determined on his own path in life

he'll bear the consequences (ie bankruptcy) all by himself if necessary...! and he's much too stubborn to be talked out of his own decisions

i dont think there was any possible way kaveh could have walked away from the wrecks of the first build of alcazarzaray and still be at peace with himself

and kaveh even admits he was naive (in his teapot dialogue), but he doesnt regret it still even now

so i think its cool alhaitham realised that there's no point in trying to convince kaveh to change who he is

such is kaveh. kaveh will not be someone different, not even for alhaitham. his work & altruism are parts of his core identity

why fight a mountain who will not be moved?

instead, alhaitham goes for more "harm reduction" strategies:

help cover kaveh's bar tabs, which means he's also the one lambad calls to pick up kaveh & see kaveh home safely

snark at kaveh when he's ranting about clients to keep him in a righteous mood instead of getting depressed

there's a quote about how to be loved is to be changed....

and alhaitham certainly has changed so much from that smart-mouthed student who had pinpointed what he thought was the root of kaveh's overbearing altruism and figured he could fix kaveh's problems with that knowledge!

to now as an adult with a lot more life experience: alhaitham knows that kaveh isn't his to save

and the more he tries to force kaveh to changing, the more likely kaveh is to dig his heels in

alhaitham doesnt need to be kaveh's minder or overbearing best friend--

he wants to be kaveh's partner, his equal, which means respecting kaveh's choices for what they are

anyways kaveh's drowner analogy works rly nicely for this core conflict between them (changing people vs supporting them and protecting them from harm)

& i cant believe its canon

i really appreciate this aspect of their relationship too-- it feels very mature & realistic...

how easy it would be if you could just TELL someone how to fix their problems!

its very frustrating to see someone you care about run straight towards problems again & again...

but you can't change someone's mind bc you want it to be that way. they have to decide on their own, on their own volition, and to truly believe in their decision, for the changes to really stick

as much as it sucks that you can't just solve people's problems for them

the human experience is so much richer for all of our different perspectives and ideas and principles that will not be compromised bc someone else wanted it to be

you can't control people's thoughts & that's for the best (also alhaitham's SQ is literally about this lmao)

[lotusloong]

If you're willing, can you write a fic about Netflix!Monkey King based on this drawing from a while ago? https://www.tumblr.com/monkeykingdomblog2/750199169881341952/that-moment-when-you-think-youre-kissing-your?source=share

An Accident

Relationship: Netlfix!Sun Wukong X Female Golden Princess of Cauldron County!Reader (also known as Goldie)

AN: Alright friendo, I'm gonna be completely honest, this was a toughy! I love Netflix Wukong but he is surprisingly hard to wright in a romantic sense in the time frame of the movie. I don't know why he's like this for me, he just is (post movie I have no problem writing and I think it's because he's changed so much by that point?). So I tried my best to kinda do a crush scenario, I really hope I did it justice? Idk, because of the difficulty I had I feel a little insecure about this one lol. Takes place during the fight with Red Girl.

Tags: Fluff, First Kiss, Canon Typical Violence

Read it on AO3!

“Uh, pardon me, Monkey King?” You ask, stepping closer to him with your hands clasped. The ruby colored monkey in question raises an eyebrow at you as he walks with his stick balanced over his shoulders, smiling.

“What’s up Princess? Need something?” You lower your hands but keep them clasped in front of you, keeping your posture straight as you walk in time with the monkey.

“Uhm, yes,” you start, “I was wondering when it was exactly that I would be brought home? I am, once again, grateful that you saved me but…we seem to be travelling further and further away from my kingdom.” You gesture towards the countryside around you, nothing but crops and fields for miles. The only mark of civilization is the small town up ahead.

“Don’t worry Goldie, Stick and I will get you back safe and sound! I just need to get that 100th demon and we’ll be good to go! Oh, bringing you back is definitely gonna help me get in with the Immortals, saving a princess is classic hero work!” He looks to the stick balanced over the back of his neck, which vibrates encouragingly in green. You give a nervous chuckle, looking between the two as you walk. Your gold embroidered robes feel heavy as you go, their bulk not really meant for long journeys through the countryside. 

Truly, you are grateful to the monkey for saving your life. The monster that had kidnapped you from your home had nearly destroyed your kingdom’s army, but in one fell swoop the ruby simian in front of you had knocked the demon out cold. He had struck a heroic pose just for you, claiming to be your savior and insisting to ‘hold your applause’. A little put off by his attitude but still grateful, you had thanked him profusely, reassuring him that your father would have a great reward for him for saving your life.

The monkey had jumped around in excitement at your words, raving to his weapon about how lucky they were you had been kidnapped. You didn’t really know how to respond to his words.

And somehow you ended up here, following this simian as he fought demon after monster all across China. 

For every one he defeated, you asked if you could finally make your way back home. His answer was always the same. Despite the anxiety slowly building in your gut the longer you were away from your country, you couldn’t say you…disliked being out. Just by following this strange monkey you had already seen more of the world in a couple days than you had your whole life.

It certainly didn’t hurt that your travelling companion was...cute. Perhaps it was because he saved your life, but you couldn’t deny that you liked him. Silky cherry red fur, bright green eyes, a mischievous smile that made your heart race, and that adorable little heart print on his nose…

You cough awkwardly into your fist, embarrassed by your thoughts. You stare at the dirt road in front of you as your group keeps walking. You’re so consumed by your thoughts you don’t notice the monkey watching you as you walk. The magic stick vibrating drags your attention back to them, the monkey playfully spinning the pole and holding it in front of him to speak.

“What was that?”

Green and blue flash over the pole, its vibrations loud and clear.

“Wh-What!? I don’t even-! That’s crazy, no way.” More vibrations. “I do not! And if I ever did, which I do not, it wouldn’t be on some human! No matter how pretty!” You raise an eyebrow at the monkey as he talks, curious as to what this one-sided conversation is about. When he notices your look, he turns away from you, his voice hushed and urgent as he talks to his stick.

“Okay, okay fine! Maybe a little one! Now pipe down before she hears you, okay?” You bite your bottom lip, unsure if you should laugh or be uncomfortable by this conversation that's clearly about you. His earlier words hit you with full force.

Did he think you were pretty-?

“We’ll talk about it later! Just don’t do anything-” The monkey points his finger at the stick in his hand, as if reprimanding it, only to be distracted and do a double take at the wooden gate entrance to the village you had been wandering towards. You pause, grateful for the distraction so you can calm your burning cheeks as the monkey rushes forward. You watch as he steps up to the gate, slinging his stick back over his shoulders and taking a deep breath in.

“Alright…show time. Ninety-nine demons down, one to go.” Stick gives a vibration of encouragement as they step into the village proper. You follow behind, taking in the sight of the village as Monkey calls for the locals. Empty storefronts, dry dirt streets, broken signs and abandoned carts everywhere. Suspicion and unease settle into your gut, and you leap forwards to all but plaster yourself to the red monkey’s back. He looks back at you, surprised but not upset.

“Relax Goldie, it’s okay. You know I can take on anything that wants to start trouble.” He reassures you. You bite your lip and nod, still sticking close to him as you walk.

You feel a pressure on your wrist and are about to scream when you look down. Monkey’s fluffy red tail loops around your forearm, squeezing comfortably. You glance up to see him smiling, before he turns and gently leads you towards a building. The pressure of his tail feels comforting as the eerie streets stretch out away from you. Monkey knocks on the door, fingers tapping away at Stick as the three of you stand and wait for someone to answer.

“Where is everyone?” He mutters. You look around and startle as you spot the face of a child ducking behind a corner. Monkey sees them as well, frowning and shrugging before kicking the door open.

“Anyone need a hero?” He steps inside with a flourish, his tail uncoiling from around your arm as he steps inside. You miss the warmth immediately, gripping at your wrist with your other hand as if to mimic the feeling. Voices call out from various hiding spots across the room, telling your rescuer to be quiet and leave them in peace.

You make your way to a seat, sighing in relief as your feet are finally given a rest after so much walking. You pile the folds of cloth that make up your robes onto your lap and the table, grateful for the support it gives your shoulders now that they don’t carry the weight by themselves. You roll your neck and shoulders to stretch them out, flexing your toes inside your shoes. When your eyes flutter open again, Monkey is staring at you with a contemplative look. He shakes his fur out, slamming the door behind him now that you’re inside.

“The name’s Monkey King!” He starts. You relax further into your seat, comfortable to watch as your companion makes a mess of the room, showing off his skills. You giggle into your hands as he smashes nearly everything, the villagers glaring doubtfully at the two of you. Without asking, Monkey grabs himself a bowl of rice and chopsticks, setting Stick down next to you to lean against the edge of the table. He hops on top of the table itself, making himself comfortable and eating with you right next to him.

“I’ve never heard of you.” A stern faced woman speaks, sucking on a stick of candy.

“Well, I’ve never heard of you either.” Monkey snarks, and Stick vibrates in yellow. You snort, covering your mouth with the sleeve of your hanfu. The villagers glare at you, and you clear your throat awkwardly, sitting up straighter.

“Look, I’m travelling with a princess. One I rescued. I’m the real deal guys, trust me.” The villagers give you searching looks, eyeing the gold embroidery and silk material of your robes. Your fingers clench and unclench the fabric beneath them, the desire to fidget under their scrutiny overwhelming. The lessons on etiquette you’ve taken since birth hold you back, the phantom pain of whacked knuckles keeping you in check.

“Why would a princess travel with a monkey after being rescued, instead of going home?” The stern faced lady asks, crossing her arms. Monkey glares back at her, taking a spiteful bite of rice.

“Why wouldn’t a princess want to travel with me? I saved her life! I’m taking her home, we’re just stopping to do some more hero work on the way.” 

“Uh huh, yeah, sure. Get rid of them.” The lady orders. Someone else, her husband you would presume, steps forward and tries ushering the three of you out. Monkey’s tail is suddenly curled tight around your shoulders as he pulls you all further into the building, not ready to give in yet. 

Things escalate when the kid bursts in. 

The young girl starts helping your monkey, praising him and hyping up his incredible skill. When she moves closer to you, Monkey pulls you away, keeping himself and Stick in-between you and the stranger. She seems harmless enough, but your heart still flutters at the protective glare Monkey is sending her way.

“You actually know who he is?” You ask her, smiling politely. 

“Of course! I'm his number one fan!” She boasts proudly. You notice her gaze shift away nervously before she steps towards the villagers, trying to coax them into a deal. You send a glance of your own to Monkey, suspicious of her behavior. With your high position in the Golden Cauldron Country it had been drilled into you to read people, to understand their true intentions despite the words they speak. This kid isn't lying, exactly, but you can tell she's hiding something.

Monkey shrugs at you, turning his attention back to villagers and negotiating. You settle back down, letting your aching feet rest a little more before you have to head out again.

“-ten free guitar lessons.”

“Uhg, deal, whatever.” The stern faced woman agrees. 

“Hold up! And-” Monkey turns and gestures towards you, “some more comfortable traveling clothes for my princess. Something soft and comfortable she can travel in.” Your cheeks burn at the casual possessiveness of him calling you ‘his’, but you find you don't…quiet mind. You duck your head, feeling bashful but pleased. 

The stern faced woman looks you over, pulling her candy stick from her mouth and pointing it at you. 

“You keep this monkey under control, I'll get you something decent.” She says. You nod, hands clasped politely in front of you. Just in time too, as outside you hear the familiar roaring of a demon.

“Oh no! Please, don’t let it hurt my innocent child!” The older man begs Monkey, clasping his hands in front of him. Monkey brushes him aside, his tail coiling around your forearm once more and pulling you behind him as he walks.

“Don’t worry. Sooner I slay it, the faster we get to celebrating me and my accomplishments!” You follow willingly, hearing the girl huff behind you. Monkey doesn’t spare her a second glance, but he does give you one. Before you actually step outside the building he pulls you close and speaks in hushed tones.

“Alright Goldie, you know what you do?” 

“Stay close to you and within sight, don’t take any unnecessary risks. You can handle the demon, I stay out of the way.” You recite from memory the steps you’ve been following for every fight Monkey gets into. If you stray too far it means the demon he’s fighting can grab you - staying close means he can keep an eye on your safety and move you if needed.

“Good girl.” You duck your head at the praise, stepping into the afternoon sunlight once more. “Let's get demon one-hundred dead and done, then after I ascend we can take you home.” 

Today seems to be a day of lucky timing, as within moments Monkey finds the fire demon, right in the center of town in the middle of stealing a child. The second he sees the two figures in the street he rushes forward, knocking the small girl across the face with a harsh ‘thwack’ from Stick that sends her flying.

Well, that was fast.

You’re about to start clapping when the girl from earlier rushes towards Monkey, looking frantic.

“What are you doing!?” She cries. Monkey looks at her like she’s grown a second head.

“Uh, joining the Immortal Ones? What else?” He turns and looks straight at you, puffing his chest and posing with Stick. “Goldie! What did you think? Kinda boring that it took one hit but hey! Impressive anyways, right?” He chuckles, preening under your gaze. You give a polite clap, smiling at him, as the large child he just saved rushes past you and into the arms of his father.

“Very heroic, yes!” You praise, happy to indulge him.

There was still a lot about Monkey you didn’t know, but even in your short journey together you had picked up on things. Mainly, his desire for recognition. You could only guess why he felt the need to be seen and accepted by every living thing around him, but even without knowing you could still empathize with him. 

There had been…moments, on the road. He had been quiet and thoughtful as you walked, looking out at the distant horizon eastwards. He had seemed…lonely.

You didn’t like seeing him like that.

“You’re the worst daddy ever!” 

And he just kicked a child in the head.

Okay, you never said he was perfect or anything. As you pinched the bridge of your nose, the girl came to your side, looking lost and confused as she watched Monkey.

“That was for free.” He told the mayor, who was currently staring at his son in shock as he recovered from being kicked to the side like a sack of rice. Despite the disapproval simmering in your belly, you couldn’t stop the snort that left you at his words. The girl gave you a confused look before startling at a sound behind you both. You turned to see the first child Monkey had hit with Stick climbing back over the fence, which promptly collapsed under her weight.

With a flourish she transformed, her true form coming to light. Immediately you rushed backwards and to Monkey’s side, his arm shooting out to cover you and push you further behind him. 

“How dare you challenge Red Girl, Monkey! Quake in my presence and bow down to me!” The fire imp before you summoned a golden spear, spinning it round and round as her flaming hair danced in the breeze. Monkey stepped forward, his tail brushing against you one last time as he spoke.

“Why don’t you leave these poor, unattractive people alone, huh? The two hottest people here have business to get to, so the faster you go down, the happier I’ll be.” He snarked. The peasant girl that was following you shot you a look at his words, and you shrugged in response, bashful. She shook her head in dismay, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from her so-called ‘hero’. Yeah, you really weren’t buying that story.

Within moments after speaking, Monkey King was launching himself towards Red Girl with the help of Stick, giving an excited cry as they took to the air together. You watched on, sliding yourself closer to the peasant girl.

“So…you say you’re his number one fan?” You begin, watching her intently. Above you both, you heard Monkey’s voice as he snarked and quipped at the demon.

“U-uh, yeah! He’s super cool, able to just…fly up and fight demons like that…” Her voice sounds unsure, and she uses one arm to grip her other by the elbow, the picture of awkward uncertainty. You try to make your own body language relaxed, to lure her into a sense of security, while not giving anything away about your true thoughts.

“He is pretty impressive. Stick too, of course.” You notice her eyes shift at the mention of Stick, glancing up and then back at you within the fraction of a second.

Hmm.

“What did you say your name was?” You ask, leaning closer to her.

“L-Lin. My name is Lin, I’m…not from around here.” You open your mouth to ask more questions, but the sound of a crash interrupts you. You look up, startled to see fireballs being launched straight down and towards the village, crashing without guidance as the fight rages on.

“That monkey’s gonna burn down the whole village! I told you to keep him under control!” The mayor’s wife glares at you, and you can only offer a shrug in response. Lin looks between you two and then around the street, immediately rushing towards a bucket of water.

“C’mon everyone, grab some water!” She cries. You pick up the layers of your robes and rush towards the water tower, grabbing a bucket on the way. A villager is already at the spigot, distributing water to everyone who comes up. Your own bucket is filled and you rush back the way you came, intending to put out a blaze on the front steps of a building. 

The second you do, a gust of wind sends you stumbling, the form of Red Girl rushing past with trailing lights of green and purple. Stick is in her hands-oh no, Stick is in her hands-

You look frantically around the space for Monkey, your thoughts racing with all the worst possible outcomes of what could have happened. He's been burned to a crisp, she managed to stab him through his armor, he fell and can't get back up-

Another gust next to you as Red Girl goes flying past again, and this time, you do stumble and fall. The ground rushes up to meet you, and you brace yourself for the rough dry dirt to scratch you up-

But it doesn't come. 

Warm arms are wrapped around your waist, holding your weight with no effort as they straighten you back up. You look behind you to see Monkey, his grin wide and smug.

“I leave you alone for a few minutes and already you're tripping over yourself when I come back. You aren't falling for me, are you Goldie?” He teases, giving you a pointed eyebrow wiggle. Heat rises to your cheeks immediately, and you giggle at the silly face he makes.

“Thank you~” You coo, back on your own two feet. His hands stay on your waist. “That would have been a rough landing.”

“Of course, princess-” He starts, but his gaze snaps up to the sky, your own following. Red Girl is still spinning through the air, counting to herself. 

“four…five-”

“Fifteen!” Monkey calls out. He gives you a gentle nudge, jerking his head in her direction to prompt you. Your mind goes blank for a moment before you catch on to his game. 

“Fifty six!” You call. Monkey grins, pulling you by your waist down the road, following the demon as she flies. 

“Twenty four! Two! Eight!”

“S-seven? No, six! Wait-!”

“Thirty two! Twelve!”

The two of you keep calling out numbers as Stick wears the girl down, her screams of frustration echoing around the village. Within moments Stick turns towards the ground, spinning with such speed and power, he and the demon go straight down into the dirt. Monkey lets go of your waist to peer down into the hole, his hand out to catch Stick when he comes flying back out. You peer in as well, only to see darkness as the hole stretches down, down, and down. 

“You let go!” Monkey shouts. “WHOOOO! Woohoohoo!!” He does a little jig, wiggling his hips side to side as Stick does a rainbow display of light. You give a cheer of your own, clapping at their victory. 

The next moments happen so fast you weren't even sure what exactly happened until much later, when you had the privacy of your own thoughts to sort things out. 

Monkey turns to his Stick, leaning forward to press a quick kiss of gratitude against the metal. Stick clearly had other ideas, and with a quick jerk of himself, was suddenly behind your back, Monkey's hand still holding on to him tight. You turned your head at the motion of the two of them, only to feel a sudden pressure on your own lips you weren't expecting. Stick vibrates behind you, but Monkey doesn't even seem to notice what's happened. 

His eyes are closed, and his free hand immediately grabs into your hip for balance. You sit there, shocked, for only a few milliseconds before your own eyelashes flutter shut, and you kiss back. His black lips are just as soft as they look, and you can feel the size and shape of his canines pressing against your lips through his. The thought of him gliding those sharp teeth against the juncture of your neck sends a thrill down your spine, and you squeak. 

That sound draws a responding groan from Monkey, who's hand on your hip splays out, wrapping around to the small of your back and tugging you closer to him. Your hands tentatively reach up to his shoulders, the metal of his armor cool and rough under your fingers. He smells nice…a little musky from the fight and your travels, but also like fruit and mountain stone. You stay like that, lips pressed together, exploring each other gently as your brain melts into mush. 

Your first kiss…given to your hero…

With a sharp gasp he pulls away from you, eyes wide and panicked. You’re in shock, staring at him as you try to remember what breathing feels like again. His hand flexes where it’s still cradling the small of your back, his green eyes dilated wide as he watches your face for any reaction.

You can’t give one, still reeling from the feeling of him on you. It felt so…nice…gentle and sweet. You think…you think you want to do it again.

You swallow, gathering your courage. If you just…lean forward again you could-

“Stick!” Monkey pulls away from you, grabbing Stick with both hands and glaring at him. Stick vibrates in pink, a color you haven’t seen from him yet.

“Don’t you dare say that! It wouldn’t have happened had you not-! How could you do that! I-!” Monkey looks between Stick and you, a rising panic on his face. His breathing grows frantic, tail flicking in obvious agitation. 

“G-Goldie-! Princess! I-I am so-! That wasn’t supposed to happen-This jerk pulled me and-!” He gives Stick a shake, torn between glaring at the rod and looking apologetically at you. You take a deep breath to center yourself, trying to not take his words personally.

“I-it’s okay Monkey…I-...I didn’t really…mind?” You try to smile despite the overwhelming urge to hide coursing through your veins. He pauses, staring at you like he isn’t sure how to respond.

He doesn’t get a chance to try, Lin running up and stealing his attention away from you. You try to ignore the unhappy twinge in your gut at the girl interrupting you both.

“That was amazing! She fell right into your trap!” Monkey startles, shaking himself and putting his usual air of bravado on for the villagers.

“Wh-uh, right! One hundredth demon vanquished!” He spins Stick around on his shoulders, posing for the crowd gathering around you. Lin is still talking as Monkey walks away, his sights set on the mayor and his wife, both covered in soot.

“I offer myself as your humble assistant and weapon bearer.” The girl bows before Monkey, a pleading look on her face. Monkey looks genuinely shocked for a moment, his eyes flicking to you before narrowing on the girl.

“Wow, my own assistant? Hard pass.” He glares at her, gesturing to himself. “This monkey heroes alone.” 

“Wha-? But what about your girlfriend? She’s traveling with you!?” Lin cries, and you sputter in response. Monkey King looks just as taken aback, but you swear you see the red of his cheeks turn darker at her words.

“That-that's none of your business! You don’t know anything kid!” He snarls, tail curling behind him in displeasure. Lin looks desperately at you and you avoid her gaze, watching your feet as you walk over to Monkey. You aren’t sure how to process anything that just happened, and you just desperately want some space to figure things out and sort through your confusing feelings. You try to speak to Monkey, your voice sounding quiet even to your own ears.

“Uhm, Monkey? I-...I need to-...can we talk-?” You stutter, your train of thought moving at a million miles a second as you try to think of the right words you want to say. Monkey looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“...Yeah. Yeah, later we can.” He turns away from you and back to the mayor. “In the meantime, you got my big victory speech ready, right?”

“Uh…well…” The mayor looks at the ruins that were his village, soot and burned down homes littering the streets.

“Well, grab a scroll and take notes! Cause it’s party time!” Monkey flicks a curler from the mayor’s wife's head, the burning material bouncing away and landing amongst the fireworks shop. The stern faced woman’s voice echoes all the way to the heavens as sparklers and fireworks shoot skyward with an explosion of color and noise.

“Crazy monkey!”

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“😗”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

The taglist has reached the max number! If you want updates, check my blog, turn on post notifs, or subscribe to it on AO3!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82

@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast

@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry

[p0rk-guts]

HUSKER!!!! Husk. Whatever. THIS OLD CAT!!!! ^ - ^

comparison + breakdown ⬇️

Look idk what possible lore reasons there could be for Husk having bird wings and tail feathers whether it's hidden somewhere online or to be determined later in the show even though I can't for the life of me even guess why they're there (if you've got any hc's tho I'd love to hear em) but I just got rid of em entirely, at least for the time being. Declutters him a little. They're definitely a little much.

And I've always hated those buttons on his chest fur... Are they part of his pattern.... Are they hot glued on...... What is it with Viv and melting clothing and flesh together.........

He also does NOT look 60-70 like at all (pretty sure that's canon but I just got it off the wiki) so I tried to remedy that by giving him more wrinkles and creases. He's a Persian cat thing now bc some of them really do be lookin like mustache wearing old guys fr. Also his neck fluff is sorta supposed to allude to facial hair w/ some greying sprinkled in! He's officially like... 62 now. + He's fatter bc 1) beer belly 2) Persian cat build and 3) Vivzie twink fatigue

Husk's outfit is objectively silly for his grown ass to be wearing but I like the hc I've seen around as that being a stipulation in his deal with Alastor where he figuratively and literally "took the shirt off his back". Considering how as an overlord he had a nice suit and he (possibly. Definitely In headcanons) doesn't even like showing off sinner features, or his body at all, especially not in such a way. Is this canonically the case? Probably not. But hey 🤷🏾‍♀️

I made some comparatively minimal changes there. I undid his tie bc man's usually drunk and doesn't have the energy to fuss with it. I also gave the ends a bit of a spade shape. The clasps on his suspenders are meant to be clovers and there are still hearts on his hands. For the diamond face... I kinda tried to put it into his tail? But that's kinda iffy so 3.5/4 card faces achieved 👍🏾

Turned his top hat into a more flat wide brim hat that i could NOT for the life of me find a name for... Just wider fedoras I think? but they seemed to be kinda popular at the time. For my Husk, as an overlord he occasionally wore a fancy top hat when he was showing off, and now this is like. His downgrade replacement he's got to wear. + Some playing cards tucked into the hat band!

Made those yellows his primary colors bc in my rewrite greed is gold and I definitely think that would've been one of his major sins in life. Also a bit of gluttony too, which I made orange, so I added some of those tones in there. Allsoo after fussing with the colors for literal days I stilllll kindahateemalittle BUT IT'S FINE. I'll figure it out

And that's all for him!! Realized I forgot to put the little anti Viv banner on my last post but then again idgaf fr it's whatever. If you don't know I hate her you'll learn before long

And, of course, dvelopment sketches 4 sticking around!!!!

Ok that's all bye ✌🏾🧍🏾‍♀️

[dindjarindiaries]

Rush

summary: You and Hunter have to make a risky escape when the end of a mission goes sideways, though even an exit gone wrong has a bright side.

pairing: sergeant hunter (tbb) x reader

tags: canon-typical violence, light angst, kissing/sexual themes, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.478k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

Thunder crackled overhead, and no later did you start feeling the droplets of rain that ricocheted off the trees surrounding you. With a huff, you tried in vain to press yourself harder against the rough bark, as if the canopy of leaves would somehow give you cover from the oncoming storm. “Great,” you muttered. “This is just what we needed.”

“At least it’ll cool us off,” Hunter offered, tilting his helmet as he kept his blaster lifted in his hand. He spoke without moving from his post, which happened to be the tree across from yours.

You raised an amused eyebrow at him. “Ever the optimist.”

Hunter chuckled. “I’m trying my best.” He touched his fingers against his helmet and spoke into the comms. “Time’s winding down, Echo. How close are you two?”

“We’ve nearly got it,” Echo responded. “I’ve gotten access, but Tech just has to decrypt a few more sequences.”

You and Hunter watched another patrol of guards stroll around the corner of the safehouse Echo and Tech had snuck into. It was the third you had seen in the past ten minutes, which confirmed their suspicions were rising. Your squad had over welcomed their stay.

“There’s a third patrol group,” you warned them.

“Make that four,” Wrecker added. “Omega and I see a new group, too.”

You and Hunter shared a cautious look. His finger tapped his blaster a few times before he spoke into the comms again. “Tech?”

“Thankfully, I work well under pressure.” The tapping of Tech’s fingers along his datapad could be heard in the background of his comm. “All of Cid’s requested intel has at last been decrypted and uploaded. I must say, I find it utterly intriguing that she—.”

“Is this relevant, Tech?” Hunter’s tone was short with concern, not anger.

Tech’s sigh was audible over the comms. “I suppose it can wait. Echo and I are making our exit now.”

“Great.” With that, Hunter lowered his blaster, though he kept it close. You did the same with your own as you kept your keen eye on the latest patrol. Tech and Echo were getting out the same way they got in, and you and Hunter were closest to that exit point. Your focus would guarantee their safety.

As the rain turned into a downpour, however, it was harder to see. You squinted and blinked a few times when raindrops cascaded from your brow down to your lashes, eventually raising your arm to your eyes in a vain attempt to dry them. Your clothes had already started to stick to your soaked skin.

“You okay over there?” Hunter’s voice was yet again full of concern as you lowered your arm to look at him.

“I’m fine.” You offered him a nod for further reassurance. “You’re just lucky you have a helmet.”

Hunter began to raise his hands to the sides of his helmet. “You can have it if you need it.”

Warmth that was much more welcome than the tropical planet’s humidity swelled inside your chest as you shook your head. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’ll be fine.”

Hunter lowered his hands and nodded. His visor returned to the sight of the building in the distance even as he continued to speak to you. “I like it when you call me that.”

You chuckled to yourself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s…”

Hunter trailed off, causing you to look from the blurry view of Echo and Tech’s exit point over to him. His entire body was tense as his visor looked just beyond you, and it became apparent that his senses had alerted him to something new. You furrowed your brow and prepared to ask him about it when you heard the sound of a growl just behind you.

“Sunny.” Hunter’s voice was a low and worried warning. “Don’t move.”

You slowly turned your head over your shoulder and felt your heart leap into your throat. There was a creature at least twice your size standing just behind you, a four-legged beast with long talons and two rows of eyes. It flashed its massive teeth at you as it growled once again.

Your panicked instincts took over, but before you could act out on them, Hunter lunged over to muffle your scream and keep you in place. His gloved hand absorbed the sound as his other arm wrapped around your waist. “Don’t. Move.”

You tried to control your breathing as your gaze stayed locked on the creature’s, but the louder it growled at you, the more difficult that task became. It took a step closer, and you gripped Hunter’s arm and wrist, lowering his hand from your mouth. “Hunter…”

“I’m watching.” His own steady breaths guided yours as his armored chest rose and fell behind you. For a moment, you really thought it would be okay.

Then, the creature roared, and Hunter raised his blaster and shot it so fast that it was nothing more than a flash in your memory.

Keeping his arm on your waist for a moment, Hunter tugged you away, leading you in a new direction. “Come on!”

You snapped back into battle mode as you diligently followed him. “Where are we going?”

“We can’t evade this thing on foot,” Hunter insisted, guiding you through the trees as the creature followed. You didn’t need Hunter’s enhanced senses to know it was only getting closer and closer. “I saw some speederbikes by the other exit point.”

“Won’t they see us stealing their equipment?”

Hunter gave his helmet a tilt even as he ran. He continued to raise his voice above the sound of the storm. “I have a feeling they already know we’re here.”

Then came the first blaster shot. You ducked down and glanced to your right, seeing the patrol group from earlier taking their aim at you and Hunter. “Oh, great! Another thing to avoid!” You fired back at them, though the attempt was pointless as the downpour blurred their distant images. “I could really use some of that optimism right about now!”

“Just stay close!” Hunter also fired back some shots at the patrol, which was thankfully composed of some poor shooters. He artfully dodged each tree and other obstacle as he led you forward, and soon, he was pointing at something ahead of him. “Here!”

You saw the outline of the speederbike just before Hunter hopped onto it. He waited until you had fallen in place behind him to push it forward, but even with the sound of its loud engine and the pouring rain around you, you could hear the other bikes following you in close pursuit. “We’ve got company!”

“Hold on!” Hunter took a sharp right, causing you to tighten your grasp on his middle for stability. Once he had straightened the bike out again, you reached back with your blaster and started to take aim at your pursuers.

“What’s causing that blaster fire?” Echo asked over the comms. “It’s impossible to see anything in this storm.”

“We’re in a bit of a situation,” you informed the squad, taking another few shots before holding tight to Hunter as he banked left. “We’re handling it, though. Did you get out okay?”

“Echo and I have rendezvoused with Wrecker and Omega,” Tech answered. “We are en route to the ship.”

“We’ve got a patrol hot on our trail,” Hunter managed to say even as he steered the bike. “We’re not heading back to the ship until we lose them.”

“Do you want some help?” Wrecker asked, and his tone revealed his desire to see some action.

“Negative, Wrecker.” Hunter paused as he went right, and you nearly lost your grasp on him thanks to how slick his armor had become. He set a hand over yours to keep it secure. “I don’t want them knowing there are more of us. Just get the ship ready to go.”

“You’ve got it, Sarge.”

“Be careful!” Omega’s genuine request managed to make you smile even as you blasted a few more times. None of your shots were landing, thanks to how hard the downpour was making it to aim. To make matters worse, they were firing their own shots, and you were just barely managing to dodge them thanks to your exposed position.

“I can’t see anything in this rain!” You ducked as a blaster bolt nearly grazed both your heads. “My shots are useless!”

Hunter, of course, only needed a moment or two before his quick thinking began. “I have an idea.” He paused to go around a tree, and you held on tight to keep yourself from slipping. “We’re gonna switch.”

Your eyes widened as you gave him a once-over. “How?”

Hunter spoke without once looking away from where you were going. “I’m gonna lean left, and you lean right. I’ll maneuver myself behind you, and once we’re both settled, you’ll take the handles from me. Okay?”

You took a deep breath. “Do you trust me to pilot in this downpour?”

Hunter’s response was genuine as he offered you a quick glance. “I trust you with my life, Sunny.”

You smiled as your determination set in. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Hunter nodded. “On the count of three.” He tightened his grip on the handles. “One… two…” Hunter took one more hard turn and then leveled the bike back out. “Three!”

As Hunter lifted himself up and leaned to the left, you leaned right and pushed yourself forward, tucking yourself under his arm. Hunter’s right leg swung off the front of the bike and fell in place behind you, and in just a few seconds, he was seated behind you. You wrapped your hands around the handles to take them from Hunter, and he let go once you were in full control.

“There you go.” Hunter wrapped his left arm around you for stability and drew his blaster with his right. “See? Easy.” He gave you a gentle squeeze before he focused on shooting.

“Yeah, don’t speak too soon.” You smirked to yourself as you banked left and then right, causing Hunter’s grasp on you to tighten.

“Are you trying to throw me off this thing?” Hunter’s tone was laced with amusement as he fired a few blaster bolts.

Your mischievous grin widened. “I thought you said you trusted me.”

“I do.” Hunter paused to focus on aiming for a few moments. “But I still wouldn’t put it past you to make it hard on me.”

“Considering you’re the one who’s responsible for keeping us alive right now,” you gritted your teeth as you swerved around two trees, “these are purely circumstantial challenges.”

“Lucky for you, I can handle it.” No later did you hear Hunter’s blaster go off, followed by the sound of a speederbike crashing. “We’ve only got two left.”

You revved the bike and pushed it forward even faster, causing Hunter to grunt with surprise as he held on tighter. You racked your brain for a new strategy as you artfully dodged each obstacle in your path. “Okay, I’m gonna make a hard left,” you told him. “That should give you a good shot at the pilot on our left.”

Hunter nodded, a movement you could sense as he kept shooting to distract them. You waited until you were headed full-speed at a tree to turn the handles and brake left, causing your bike to be perpendicular to the path of the others. All it took was two shots from Hunter’s blaster to incapacitate the second driver, leaving you with one more left to go.

Hunter’s modulated voice was warm as he spoke. “If I had known you were this good at piloting a bike, I would’ve had you hop on first.”

You chuckled to yourself and tried to ignore the heat that rushed to your face at his praise. “That’s nice of you to say, but we’re not done yet.” You glanced over your shoulder to see the bike gaining speed on you. “Got any ideas?”

Hunter kept shooting, and each new shot proved this pilot wasn’t going down as easy as the others did. “Not really. This one’s tough.” He pressed himself against you when a blaster bolt flew over your shoulders. “We might just have to try to lose them.”

You wove around another tree, and the movement alone gave you a new plan. “I’ve got something.” You flexed your wrists to increase your speed. “Holster your blaster and hold on tight, Sergeant.”

Hunter didn’t hesitate to obey your order. It was only after both his arms were tight around you that he spoke up. “What do you have in mind?”

You tilted your head and focused on the upcoming path. “You’d rather not know.”

Before Hunter could respond, you began to swerve around a massive tree trunk, but you kept your momentum to the left and turned the bike all the way around in a circle. You pressed forward even harder, causing you to charge the other bike head-on as you fired a few blasts from the bike’s guns. It did nothing as the distance between your two bikes began to close.

“Sunny,” Hunter warned, his gloved hands fisting the material of your tunic as you went faster and faster. When you still didn’t stop or turn away, he said your real name in an even more panicked tone.

At the last second, you pulled up hard, causing the bottom of your bike to narrowly miss skimming the other as they flew under you. Your distraction, however, caused them to miss what was standing directly in their path, and their bike flew straight into the tree trunk you had already circled around.

“And that’s three,” you said, smiling to yourself with satisfaction as you began to steer yourselves back towards the Marauder. You gave Hunter a quick glance over your shoulder. “Still think I’m a good pilot?”

There was a pause as Hunter lifted one of his arms from you. He reached up to remove his helmet as he exhaled an affectionate breath. “You’re amazing.” The hand holding his helmet wrapped around you again as the other moved to your thigh, his thumb and his fingers stretching across the expanse of it. “Amazing.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt the warmth of his lips on your rain-soaked neck, and despite the fact you were trying to focus on the winding path ahead of you, you couldn’t help tilting your head to give him more access. His hand running up and down your thigh was no help. “Hunter,” your utterance of his name was more of a pleased sigh than you would’ve liked, “this isn’t helping me to focus.”

He stopped kissing you to speak, but he kept himself close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “I think you’ve proven you can still work well with distractions.” Hunter gave your skin another kiss before pausing again. “But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

You couldn’t resist him. “Hell no.” You freed a hand from the handles to cover his on your thigh. “By all means, keep challenging me.”

Hunter huffed, the sound melting into your skin in a way that drew an audible breath from you. He took your words as an open invitation to devour you, despite the way the rain was still pouring over him—and now soaking his unprotected head. Heat coursed through you in a way that was much different than the planet’s humidity, and it was only getting more and more impossible to ignore.

So much for working well with distractions.

You weren’t far from the Marauder when you brought the bike to a full stop. Before Hunter could even begin to question it, you had already spun around to grab his face and pull it to yours. Each bead of rainwater on your faces began to melt together in a sweet storm of your own, feelings of strong desire and relief from your leftover adrenaline pulsing through in each matching stroke of your tongues. It wasn’t often that you got to show off for each other, and it certainly wasn’t often that you got to celebrate a victory like this.

You raked a hand through his wet locks, drawing a pleased growl from him that caused him to somehow intensify his beautifully overwhelming actions. He tilted your head back, deepening your kiss in a way that made you cling to him the most you could. It was a breathtaking moment that made everything else fall away, from the raging storm that continued to pour down on you to the squad who was still waiting for you on the ship.

That was the thought that eventually helped you to separate yourself from him, though your teeth gently clung to his lip in your desperation to stay in the moment as long as you possibly could. Your slickened forehead rested against his as you took a few breaths of composure. “I really need to focus on getting us back to the ship, honey.”

Hunter smiled at that. “You’re right. We can’t leave the squad waiting for too long.” He lifted his head from you and helped you to turn back around. “I don’t like it when they start to get suspicious of us.” You chuckled at that, the warmth remaining in your chest as he set his hand on your thigh once again. “Lead the way, love.”

You beamed and prepared to push hard on the handles. “Hold on, Sarge.” You surged forward, and Hunter tightened the arm he had around you to keep himself in place. You laughed as he shook his head, though his own armored chest was rumbling with a hearty sound that you could feel on your back.

It wasn’t much longer before you saw the Marauder exactly where you had left it. You parked the bike, and before you could hop off, Hunter had already done so and extended his hand to you. You smiled and accepted it before the two of you ran towards the open hatch.

“Nice of you two to join us,” Echo quipped from inside the hold. He had a smile on his face that proved Hunter’s earlier words to be true; he was eagerly suspicious of something.

“Took a while for us to lose them.” Hunter’s response was delivered with as much composure as usual, though you didn’t miss the gentle brush of his hand over your back as he passed you on the way to the cockpit. “Tech, get us out of here.”

You were immediately distracted by Omega, who ran up to you with a worried stitch in her brow. “Are you okay, Sunny?” She gave you a quick once-over, no doubt searching for injuries, as she held the blanket over her shoulders even tighter. “How did they see you? It was so hard to see anything in the rain!”

“We’re fine, Omega.” You ran a hand over her wettened hair and smiled. “A creature jumped out and surprised us, and that gave away our position.”

Omega’s eyes widened. “How’d you get away?”

You crossed your arms, suddenly starting to shiver now that the regulated temperature of the Marauder was making your soaked clothes feel colder. “Speederbikes.”

Omega began to look even more impressed as she raised an eyebrow. “You stole one?”

“We did.” It was Hunter who answered for you, having returned from his quick check-in with Tech. His gloved hand had fallen on your shoulder, and as you glanced at him, there was no hiding the concern in his gaze as he looked upon your shivering form. He stepped away to set his helmet down and grab another one of the blankets, which he set over your shoulders for you. You uttered a quiet thanks as he nodded.

“Aww,” Wrecker cooed from where he was sitting in the hold. “Look at your soft side, Sarge!”

“No blanket for me?” Echo added, his grin having widened even more.

Hunter grabbed another blanket and threw it at Echo, causing both him and Wrecker to laugh as he did so. You giggled and shared a look with Omega, who was beaming at you as she rested her side against yours. You sat down with her on the floor of the hold, huddling together for more warmth. Your gaze caught Hunter’s as his lips stretched in a smile that warmed every inch of you in a way that was much more wholesome than your stolen moment.

You would only have those longing glances until you could steal another moment with him, though the rush his admiring eye gave you would never fail to leave you wanting more.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831

[pamwritessometimes]

The Great Invasion: Chapter 2

Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: In a world turned upside down, where monsters hunt and hunters are the prey, Y/N must choose: follow the new rules to stay alive or join a rogue band of hunters determined to reclaim power and change the game for good.

General warnings: dark themes, gore, kind of apocalyptic vibes, language.

Chapter warnings: slight sexual innuendos, depression, ridiculous ghost talk, having dark flashbacks

Theme song of the chapter: Don't Ask Me No Questions by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Set after season 15.

Somewhat canon-divergent.

Catch up on Chapter 1 here

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: I Just Want A Little Peace Of Mind

This was… not as nice as the Mandarin Oriental. In fact, everything felt outdated and dusty, and the black satin pajama set you were kidnapped in didn’t help you feel any better — it just reminded you of the rapid downhill ride your life was taking. It was something you thought wasn’t even possible:

Everything to get worse.

The room that Castiel guy led you to was smaller than the bathroom of your last suite. While you were used to these kinds of digs back when you were a hunter, being the legendary champion of the First and Second Hunter Games had spoiled you with the perks of luxury. 

And not to mention that with that, you got another room that wasn’t quite yours.

Before you slammed the door in his face, Castiel mentioned that this room was one of the last available in the bunker. Apparently, they’d tried to clean it out, but some things from the previous owner stuck around thanks to the lack of storage space elsewhere.

A bunker. You were stuck in a goddamn bunker.

What a twist! Not only were you trapped in a completely unfamiliar place with strange people and the ex-Queen of Hell, but now you were a hunted target. Barbas wasn’t the type to let things slide.

It had been a couple of days now since you arrived, you assumed. You could hear chatter and occasional movements from other parts of the building, which you figured must be the other hunters Rowena had mentioned.

But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the sturdy walls of your room. You didn’t want to face anyone out there, knowing they’d remind you of how you ended up here in the first place, something you never even wanted.

After a day or two of letting your anger fester, you decided enough was enough. Truth be told, boredom was starting to take over. The room didn’t offer much in the way of entertainment. You could work out — a habit that seemed to stick with you even after your captivity…though, to you, this also felt like captivity. 

Still, that didn’t exactly fill up the day.

So, you decided to search the room. Castiel’s words about a previous owner stuck with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to them. Maybe sifting through the remnants of their stuff would give you some answers… and it might keep you busy for a bit, too.

Boredom and a healthy dose of curiosity got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were rooting through the various storage boxes you’d found tucked away in the corner of the room. They were a mix of old files, random junk, and a few forgotten knick-knacks that looked like they hadn’t seen the light of day in years. You came across a huge stash of R rated magazines, too.

Great.

Then, you stumbled across a stash of clothes that definitely screamed menswear, which now wasn’t much of a surprise to you: old tees, button-ups, and pajama pants that looked like they’d been on a permanent sabbatical from their glory days. Still, they fit the bunker aesthetic far better than your matching set, which was starting to feel like a bit much for this apocalypse-chic vibe. With a reluctant sigh and a ‘why the hell not?’ shrug, you decided to give it a go.

lThe pants were a nonstarter; they dragged behind you like a sad and worn wedding train, so you stuck with your own. But the flannel? Now that was a surprise. It hung loosely on you, the sleeves comically long, but there was something almost charming about it. And nothing a little roll-up sleeve couldn’t fix. The fabric was soft from years of wear, frayed at the cuffs in a way that made it feel like it had lived a hundred lives before landing on your shoulders.

What really sold you, though, was the smell. Despite their worn appearance, the clothes carried a faint, lingering fragrance, woodsy, warm, and somehow very comforting. Whatever its origin, it was soothing enough in this apocalyptic time to convince you the flannel was a keeper.

After your little bunker chic makeover moment, one box caught your eye. It was a bit more organized than the rest, filled with neatly stacked tape cassettes. Most of them were unlabeled, but one tape stood out. The label on it read: 

Dean’s Car Shaking Traxx

Well, that was… something.

Curious, you pried the tape from its resting place and noticed something odd as well: a tape player sitting smugly at the bottom of the box. A little old-fashioned, sure, but it was there. And, lo and behold, there was a set of headphones too, though slightly frayed at the edges but still in one piece. 

They both seemed to be in working condition.

You hadn’t heard any music in what felt like forever, not since Hell decided to make Earth its vacation spot. What was the last time you actually listened to songs for the sheer enjoyment of it? Probably it was with your dad before the Invasion. He used to take you out to concerts, your favorite bands, his favorite bands, on weekends. That tradition started when you turned sixteen, and he surprised you with tickets to an Aerosmith show. It became a regular thing, a tradition you kept up for years until—

You shook the thought away, eager for something that would make you feel normal, even if it was just for a few minutes. 

You plugged in the tape, set the headphones over your ears, and hit play.

“Well, Dean, please don’t be a country guy” you muttered, glancing down at the flannel you were wearing.

The first few chords kicked in, and you couldn’t help but smile.

CCR. 

Up Around The Bend.

You leaned back and thought the tape was crackling slightly, it didn’t matter and you didn’t care. For a moment, you could almost pretend the world hadn’t turned upside down and fish yourself a little piece of peace.

Castiel walked up and down the hallway, clearly waiting for someone. Every now and then, he'd glance at the different rooms and areas in the bunker.

The library was full of hunters, some reading lore books, others chatting casually. A few stayed in their rooms, likely dealing with their own thoughts — that he understood. None of them signed up for this. Others were at the shooting range, either to train for whatever came next or to numb their nerves about the whole situation, the sound of gunshots a clear indicator of it.

He had been running the bunker alone for what felt like ages. Jack was supposed to be back by now, and yet here he was, walking holes into the floor of the building. If he were human, his feet would’ve been screaming by now.

Suddenly, he froze. A familiar voice hit his ears coming from the hall from the west side of the building.

“No, no, explain it to me again” Dean’s voice rang out, equal parts frustrated and confused. “What do you mean Hell invaded Earth? How the hell does that even happen? And where the hell was Rowena—?”

Another voice, Jack’s this time, came. “I told you, Dean. Demons came up earthside, unleashing every monster they could find.”

"When did that even happen?” Sam asked, the confusion clear in his voice.

Castiel took a deep breath and started walking towards them, dreading two facts: one, it’d been Jack knows how long since he met the Winchesters; and two, it seems Kid God didn’t brief them in entirely.

It wasn’t necessarily the reunion he once hoped for.

He rounded the corner, and there they were. Dean, leaning against a table, rubbing his face as if he could somehow erase the last few hours from his brain. Sam, on the other hand, was pacing the room like a human tornado, clearly trying to solve a puzzle that was missing half its pieces and the other half was written in hieroglyphics.

Both of them looked… well, confused and mildly pissed, to put it lightly. But honestly, who wouldn’t be? Their perpetual, much-deserved heavenly nap had been rudely interrupted by yet another apocalypse. They’d dealt with more end-of-the-world scenarios than any human ever should, and now, it seemed they couldn’t even catch a break in the afterlife.

But the second they saw their long-time-no-see friend, everything seemed to stop. Time hung for a beat.

Dean blinked as he caught the eyes of the blue-eyed angel.

"Cas?" his voice cracked slightly, his lips twitching into a genuine smile.

Sam’s face softened too, once he glanced at his old friend.

Dean took a step forward, pulling him into a tight hug. Then, Sam wrapped his arms around both of them, the three of them standing there for a moment in a rare moment of peace. Like the world wasn’t crumbling outside, like there wasn’t a bloody, chaotic mess waiting to tear them apart.

Castiel smiled, a strange nostalgia creeping through his perpetual mind. 

Yet, he cleared his throat as he reluctantly pulled away. "It’s good to see you again, too" His gaze flicked from Dean to Sam. "Though I wish it was in a better situation. I'm sorry we had to interrupt your Heaven. But the world... it’s in chaos. Hell’s on Earth, literally."

Dean pulled back slightly, his grin fading into a more serious expression. "Yeah, I figured this wasn’t gonna be all hugs and ‘how’s afterlife’. Can’t even let a guy rest in goddamn peace."

Then, Jack turned to Cas. “Was everything alright while I was gone?”

The angel nodded, then added, “Rowena’s back as well.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “She brought her, too.”

Jack's smile widened a little as he processed the news. 

“That’s good” He then turned to Sam and Dean with a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Come on. I want you to meet everyone here.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “Everyone?” he echoed, sharing a quick glance with Dean before the two followed Jack toward the war room.

As they entered the room, the on-going conversation quieted and was replaced by the weight of at least a couple dozen curious stares, all pointing to their direction. Hunters of all kinds were scattered around the room. Some were fairly young, almost teens, a few of them older, battle-worn and their expressions ranged from intrigued to wary, all fixed on the newcomers.

Dean furrowed his brows, his gaze sweeping the crowd. Despite the enormous size of the bunker, the room suddenly felt suffocatingly small. It reminded him of the time they offered their home to the refugees from Apocalypse World — except now, it wasn’t just a handful of people.  This was at least three times that number, maybe more.

He glanced and Sam and then muttered, “Guess we missed the memo about this place turning into Grand Central Hunter Station.”

Sam pointed a glare at him, then turned to Jack. “So… what are we facing here, again?”

Guns N’ Roses blasted through your headphones, drowning out every thought except the music. You made it your mission to listen to every cassette tape you found in the boxes. By the time you hit cassette number three’s flip side, the music was doing its job at making you feel a bit calmer a little too well. Your eyelids got heavier with every riff and before you knew it, you’d dozed off against the headboard. 

The music was loud enough to block out the creak of the door opening, but not the voice that followed.

“Why’s there a chick in my room?” a gruff voice demanded. A pause. Then louder, like the words were physically offensive: “Listening to my damn tapes? Wearing my damn clothes?”

Maybe that last part didn’t bother him as much as the rest, though he wasn’t about to admit it. He was too busy scowling and reminding himself that this room, his room, was supposed to be his sanctuary. Instead, here you were, in his flannel, looking entirely too cozy and he woudln't admit it out loud, but also borderline irresistible for someone squatting in his space.

Or was this Jack’s way of saying, Sorry I yanked you out of Heaven, but hey, thanks for agreeing to help me clean up yet another apocalyptic mess!?

Because if so—

But before Dean could spiral further, you jolted awake at his raised tone. Your heart pounded as your survival instincts kicked in. Adrenaline surged and without fully registering who or what you were looking at, you lunged your fists.

“Whoa!” Dean yelped, stumbling back as your fist connected with his chest. He rubbed the spot but barely flinched, barely feeling anything. It was more the act that bothered him. “What the hell was that for?”

Your breath hitched as you glared at him, still half-asleep and wildly defensive. “Who the hell are you, and why are you in my room?”

“Your room?!” Dean repeated, incredulous. “Lady, this is my—” He didn’t finish before you aimed a swift kick at his shin.

Dean sighed, though it was clear he wasn’t actually hurt. “Okay, seriously, what is your deal?”

“My deal?!” You shot back, breathless and still glaring. “You’re the one creeping around in my room, touching my tapes!”

Dean stopped mid-reach for his cassette player, looking at you with a frown.

“Touching your—?” Dean sputtered, clearly at a loss. “This is literally my room, and you’re wearing my—”

Before things escalated further and you could throw another useless punch in his direction, a firm hand landed on your shoulder.

“Y/N” Castiel’s voice cut in, calm and steady. “This is Dean Winchester. He is, technically, the original owner of this room... and much of what’s in it.”

Your brain paused mid-comeback. You glanced at the man, Dean, then down at the flannel you were wearing, and finally at the stack of tapes you’d been working through.

Wait. This guy made those awesome tapes? This is the guy whose flannel I’m wearing?

Dean didn’t miss the realization dawning on your face.

“Yeah” he said dryly, crossing his arms. “That’s my flannel. And my tapes. And my room.”

Castiel sighed, already sensing the incoming argument. “Dean” he said flatly. “you died.”

Dean turned to him. “Yeah, well, guess what, Cas? I’m back.”

“Technically…”

Dean’s frown deepened. “What?”

“Technically” Castiel continued, “you’re not back in the way you used to be. You’re a spirit now, Dean. You don’t need sleep, which means you don’t need a room.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “‘Scuse me?”

You finally found your voice again, snapping your attention to Castiel. “Wait, wait, what the hell do you mean he died?”

“Y/N—” Castiel started, but you weren’t done.

“No, seriously, what the hell?” you repeated, panic and confusion rising. “Are you saying he’s a ghost? Or, like, a demon or something? How the hell did he even get in here?”

“He is not a demon” Castiel said, cutting you off. “And he’s here because Jack brought him back.”

“Am I supposed to know who this Jack guy is? And why are you saying he ‘brought him back’ like that’s supposed to make this sound less insane?”

Dean threw his hands up in the air, clearly done with you, starting to pace the room. "Great. How is she supposed to be a part of this team if she doesn’t even know who Jack is? Does she even know our lore?” He shot a glance at Castiel, as if begging for some backup, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Do you know my lore?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How about the fact that I literally crawled out of the deepest pits of demon's hell just to survive, and now I'm stuck in this insane supernatural soap opera? Pretty sure I didn’t sign up for this mess.”

Dean stopped pacing and turned to face you. “Listen, princess, I’m not exactly thrilled about this either, but guess what? The world’s ending. Again. And we don’t have time for your pity party.”

“Oh, princess? Real original, flannel boy” you fired back, stepping even closer, toe-to-toe now. “You think you’re so high and mighty because you’ve been doing this longer? Look where it got you! And mewsflash: your tapes aren’t that good.”

Alright, that last part was just you being pity.

Dean gasped like you’d just kicked his puppy. “Not that good?!”

“That’s right, you heard it.”

“You’ve got a big mouth, you know that?”

“And you’ve got a big ego” you snapped back, your pulse inexplicably speeding up as you met his fiery gaze. Up close, you could see the freckles dusted across his face and the slight dots in his green irises, and the way his upper lip curved into a perfect cupid bow. You weren’t sure if you wanted to smack him or just—

“Enough” Castiel interjected, his tone like a bucket of ice cold water thrown on fire. He stepped between the two of you, looking like a frustrated parent breaking up a sibling fight.

Dean and you both took a step back, muttering under your breaths.

“Y/N” Castiel began, his blue eyes meeting yours, his voice calm but firm. “You need to understand. Jack isn’t just anyone. He… well…Jack is… essentially God. Or, at least, the closest thing to God we have now.”

You blinked at him while his words were bouncing around your brain like pinballs. “Wait, what?”

“He’s God” Dean said bluntly, clearly enjoying your disbelief. “The big man upstairs took early retirement for being a shithead, and Jack stepped in to take over. He’s the one keeping this whole crapshow from falling apart.” Dean then leaned toward Castiel, loudly whispering, “So, I’m guessing she also doesn’t know he’s Lucifer’s kid?”

Your eyes shot to Castiel, disbelief written all over your face. “Lucifer’s kid?”

Cas nodded.

“Let me just repeat: wait, WHAT?” You threw your hands up, pacing a small, frustrated circle before spinning back to face them. “So, let me get this straight. Ghost-boy over here” you jabbed a finger at Dean, “is somehow back because the world’s new Devil-God hybrid thought it was a good idea?”

Dean crossed his arms and looked rrather affronted. “Ghost-boy? Seriously?”

“Jack’s not the devil” Castiel said, voice steady and soothing like he was talking to a toddler. “Far from it. He’s actually the one who fixed what Chuck, uh, the former god, broke.”

You let out a slow, sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, sure. The perfect way to fix God’s mess: The Devil’s spawn. Makes total sense.”

Dean let out an exasperated groan. “Alright, you are just impossible.”

“And you are dead” you shot back. “So maybe take a seat, Flannel Casper.”

Dean let out a dry laugh, the kind that oozed disbelief. “Flannel Casper? Oh, that’s real funny. Guess what, sweetheart? This ain’t your room. It’s mine. You’re the squatter wearing my shirt.”

You shot him a glare, tugging the oversized shirt tighter around you. “Well, maybe you should’ve labeled it before you kicked the bucket, Flannel Casper.”

“I swear, if you call me that one more time—”

“What? You gonna haunt me harder?”

“I’m resurrected, not haunting” Dean corrected. “And as much as I’m loving this little spat, Cas is right. Jack’s the real deal. He’s a kid with God-level powers trying to fix what’s broken. Cut him some slack.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Dean an unimpressed look. “And how’s that working out? Because from where I’m standing, the world’s still a total dumpster fire.”

Castiel sighed deeply, his expression softening a little, clearly happy Dean is at least trying to calm you down now. “We know. We all know. But that’s why we’re here, trying to fix it.” He gave a quick glance toward Dean before turning back to you. “Look, we’re not asking you to like it. Just to… cooperate.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “There’s a meeting tonight at six in the war room. It’s just down the hall.We’d like you to join us.”

He then glanced at Dean and nodded toward the door, silently asking him to lead himself out and let you weigh his words. He sighed, but complied nevertheless.

You narrowed your eyes at his back as he left, but you had to admit, something about the whole situation made you curious. You glanced at Castiel, who was still standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Do we really have God in this bunker?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes. Jack’s on our side. In fact, he’s the one who organized this.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, shaking your head slightly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me" you mumbled in disbelief.

"Believe me, I'm bad at kidding."

He then turned to leave but paused at the door.

“We’ll be in the war room at six. Think about it.”

And with that, he was gone. You leaned back against the door, arms crossed, your mind a whirlwind of frustration, disbelief, and a healthy dose of curiosity.

God-level powers. Devil’s kid. The Great Invasion. It all felt like you were stuck in the worst kind of fever dream. You couldn't decide if you wanted to scream, cry, or run. Or maybe all three.

By six p.m., the war room was packed. Well, almost packed.

You, of course, were missing.

It was the first official meeting for the hunters living in the bunker. Some had been here for over a year, while others had only recently joined. They’d all arrived, courtesy of Castiel, Jack, or whatever angel Jack had managed to charm into playing cosmic Uber. Some unlucky souls, like you, were recruited, or more like brought here without their consent by Rowena. At first, the whole thing had been met with skepticism. And who could blame them? An underground bunker full of demon traps seemed too good to be true. But, given that hunters were now the ones being hunted, this was their best shot at survival.

And now, with you and the Winchesters finally being dragged into the fold, the recruitment process was officially over. They’d rounded up every hunter in sight. The team was complete and now, it was time to figure out what the hell came next.

But none of that really mattered to you. You were currently in your room, headphones in, pretending that a meeting about saving the world was the last thing on your to-do list. Who needs that noise when you could be busy being a reluctant background character in their season finale of Apocalypse: Part 230?

You leaned back in your chair, giving the ceiling a long, judgmental stare. Maybe you’d just sleep through the whole thing. It’s not like you were going to be much help. And honestly, your bed was giving off some serious come lay down and avoid your responsibilities vibes. A good ten hours of sleep sounded like just the thing to get you through the next apocalypse.

Your body, however, had other ideas. Four days of solid room service (courtesy of mystery snack fairy) had only fueled your inner hermit, and the clock on your nightstand didn’t lie: you were starving. You had no intention of facing the others, though.

So, for now, you'd been making it work. Snacks magically appeared at your door. Just a knock, and then bam. A tray of food, like some weird, celestial version of Grubhub. You’d never figured out who was behind it, but you were grateful, even if you missed Rommer's presence sometimes and the meals he brought.

Today, however, there was no knock. No food. No magical snack delivery.

You glanced at the clock again. Six ten.

Your stomach grumbled in protest. Fine. Maybe you’d have to venture out and loot some food yourself. At least with everyone at that meeting Castiel was blabbering about, you might have a shot at swiping something before anyone noticed.

You sighed, dramatically flopping your feet onto the cold concrete floor and headed out of the room.

“This place is like a goddamn maze” you muttered as you wandered down the hallway.

You’d been wandering for what felt like hours, but only was probably a solid five minutes, trying to remember whether you’d just passed the same door for the third time or if you’d entered some cruel parallel dimension where all hallways looked suspiciously identical. At the end of your latest path, you spotted one lonely doorway, and figured, why not?

You stepped into the threshold, but then froze.

And you’d probably still be standing there, wondering what cruel joke the universe had played on you, if not for the fact that what you found on the other side was, well... a bit of a shock.

The room in front of you was packed.

Your eyes scanned the scene: hunters of all shapes, sizes, and moods. Some looked like they had been at it for decades, their faces as hard as their weapons. Others looked more like they were holding on to whatever shred of humanity was left in a world gone to hell. 

So I guess I found the war room, you thought sarcastically.

Your brain had no idea what to do with this. This was the first time you’d stepped out of your room. This was the first time you were actually face-to-face with any of them. Well, all of them.

They were looking back at you, and that, for some reason, scared the shit out of you.

“Is that—” A voice whispered from across the room.

“What the hell is she doing here?” another one piped up, followed by a chuckle laced with disbelief.

“She can’t kiss demons’ asses out of death here” someone else muttered.

Well, isn’t that just peachy? Your reputation had clearly made the rounds before you even had the chance to make an entrance. Perfect.

You had this gut feeling, the kind that whispered, Stay in your room. Don’t go. It’s not worth it. And damn, how you wished you’d listened to it. But hunger had a way of overriding any form of common sense, and now here you were, in the lion’s den.

You clenched your jaw, every fiber of your being screaming at you to turn around and retreat back to your room, where the worst you’d have to face was your own reflection. But instead, you planted your feet firmly in place, squared your shoulders and made an unspoken promise to yourself that you were not going to let their words get to you. You were better than that, right?

Or at the very least you could look like you didn’t care.

The whispers grew louder, the judgment palpable as more people recognized you. A few hunters exchanged glances so loud, they might as well have been shouting.

“She’s gonna get us all killed.”

“Should’ve left her out there where she belongs.”

Nice. A real welcoming crowd.

Dean, sitting at the table and clearly having a moment of ‘where the hell did all this drama come from,’ glanced over at you. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he somehow saw through the tough act you were putting on. Beneath all that bravado, he could see the raw and jagged edges of hurt just begging to break free.

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, Dean couldn’t help himself. He turned to Castiel with a mischievous smirk, his voice was dripping with curiosity about you. 

"So, room squatter’s real popular here, huh? What’d they mean she can’t kiss demons’ asses out here?"

“It’s… complicated” the angel replied, just realizing Dean is still a bit behind on this whole story. “She, uh, she won the Hunter Games twice.”

Dean squinted, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, that teen novel from the 2010s? With the guy with the bread name?”

Cas rolled his eyes with a quiet, almost exasperated sigh. “No. Not that. It’s a game demons set up for hunters they capture. They… They fight for their lives in an arena against monsters. And she was very favored by the monster crowd.”

Dean’s face contorted, his brain clearly still struggling to process the concept of Hunter Games, but he kept his mouth shut. His attention shifted back to you, standing there like a lion tamer on the edge of snapping.

Stubborn. Broken. Probably both at once.

It finally clicked. You weren’t just some random face in the room. You’d been through hell. Literally. No wonder the anger radiated off you like a force field. You’d been fighting demons for who knows how long. And now, here you were, in a room full of strangers judging you without even trying to understand you.

You opened your mouth to say something about maybe just finding the kitchen (if this place even had one), but before you could get the words out, you were cut off.

“Welcome! You can take a seat, if you’d like to” Jack offered you an encouraging nod.

For a split second, you froze, staring at the guy like you were trying to solve a riddle. Was this guy, with the warm smile and the kind eyes, really God and Lucifer’s kid? 

And if this kid was truly God… Should you bow? Kneel? Say Hallelujah? Maybe throw in a spontaneous hymn for good measure? You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for meeting a divine offspring, but your instincts were telling you that flinging yourself on the floor wasn’t exactly the best approach.

So, you did the only reasonable thing. You followed his simple instructions.

Your feet felt like lead as you stepped into the room, the stares burning into your back even without you actually seeing them. You spotted an empty chair near the edge of the group, far enough from the center of attention but close enough to hear whatever grand plan they were about to lay out.

As you slid into the chair, someone across the table muttered just loud enough to be heard “Hope she doesn’t screw things up.”

Without missing a beat, you shot back.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave the screwing up to you.”

A few hunters snickered, and the guy who’d spoken, Joe as you later learned, glared at you like he was about to unleash some righteous indignation but ultimately decided against it.

Smart choice.

Dean leaned toward Sam with a smirk. “Feisty. I like it.”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered under his breath, “Can we focus, please? Wait…” His eyes narrowed as he glanced at you. “Is that your shirt she’s wearing?”

Dean grinned like a kid caught stealing cookies. “Hot, innit?”

Sam facepalmed, but before the verbal sparring could go any further, Jack stepped in.

“Thank you all for coming to this meeting. Some of you may know me, but for the newcomers, my name’s Jack” he said, his eyes sweeping across the room. “We’re here because this is it. Hell’s armies are growing stronger every day, and we’re running out of time. We have to find a way to stop them before they overwhelm us completely.”

Dean, now leaning forward with his elbows on the table, raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the play? Because I’m guessing you didn’t pull us all together just to give us a ‘rah-rah, go team’ speech.”

Jack gave a faint smile but didn’t lose his serious tone. “As you all know, Hell revolted against Rowena’s new leadership. They didn’t like her reforms, making Hell less about eternal suffering and more about, well… governance.”

Your brows furrowed. 

Wait a damn minute. 

That didn’t match what you’d been told at all. Alright, demons weren’t exactly known for their honesty, but if what Kid God was saying was true, then Rowena’s leadership wasn’t the tyrannical nightmare you’d been led to believe.

Was she… not as bad as Barbas and his demon cronies had painted her?

“Every revolution has a leader” Sam said, clearly still piecing the Great Invasion together in his head. “Who led the uprising?”

“It was a demon named Malgathor.” 

The name poked at your brain just a bit, nagging like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Malgathor. You’d heard that name before. But where?

Before you could follow the thread, it hit you — a sharp and searing pain flashing into and through your skull, so sudden and intense it felt like someone was trying to peel your brain apart from the inside with a crowbar.

Your hands shot to your temples as you squeezed your eyes shut and that’s when you saw it.

A dimly lit room. Fancy but not ostentatious. Mandarin Oriental vibes, but more… utilitarian. Probably somewhere in its basement.

You were sitting in a chair, restrained. Across the room, faceless figures moved, one stepping closer. There was something about him that sent a chill crawling up your spine and you instinctively started to tremble.

And then, a voice.

“Hey!” the figure shouted. Harsh, commanding. “Hey! Are you okay?!”

But the voice twisted as the vision fractured, morphing into something softer. Female.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

You blinked hard, the image shattering like glass as reality crashed back in. The dim light was gone, replaced by the suddenly too bright fluorescents of the bunker. Dozens of eyes were on you, their expressions ranging from concern to confusion.

A blonde woman had her hand on your shoulder. “You okay there?” she asked, her voice cautious, like she was afraid you might snap at any moment.

You swallowed hard.

What the hell just happened?

You straightened, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine” you muttered, though you were acutely aware of how not fine you looked. Your face was pale, your hands trembling like you’d downed five espressos too many.

Dean’s eyed you from the other side of the table. “Fine? You just looked like someone plugged your brain into a car battery. That doesn’t scream fine to me.”

You shot him a look, equal parts defiant and exhausted. “Where were we?”

Dean frowned, clearly unsettled by your lack of snark. No witty comeback? No biting remark? That wasn’t you, not like he knew much about what was you. But if he learned anything from his one encounter with you was that you never shut up. His eyes stayed focused on you a moment longer and he couldn’t help but catch the slight tremor in your hands that you thought you were hiding so well.

Before he could press further, Sam shifted the focus. “Malgathor?” he said, his brows knitting together in thought. “How come we’ve never heard about him before?”

“Because he liked Fergus’ version of Hell” Rowena’s Scottish accent chimed in.

Your gaze flicked to her and your eyes narrowed instinctively. Something about her perfect red curls and sharply lined crimson lips rubbed you the wrong way, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. But then Jack’s words about her earlier came rushing back. Nobody else in the room seemed suspicious. Hell, they barely batted an eye at her presence.

Was it possible… she wasn’t the villain you’d been led to believe?

“Malgathor had no interest in causing trouble before. Fergus, for all his flaws, kept Hell… predictable. Contracts, misery, order. But when I took over and began implementing reforms, he turned on me. Violently.”

“Reforms?” you asked before you could stop yourself, the word tasting strange in your mouth. “What kind of reforms are we talking about here?”

Rowena’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, her expression softened. “I ended crossroads deals, stopped the eternal suffering racket, gave the damned something resembling purpose. Needless to say, it didn’t sit well with the traditionalists.”

You blinked, your brain working overtime to reconcile this version of her with the one you’d been told about by the demons who’d dragged you through hell. Had they lied? Twisted the truth? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“So” Dean said, his voice drawing everyone back. “This Malgathor guy was all-in on the Crowley’s Hell playbook, huh? Contracts, fire, long-ass lines, the whole nine yards?”

“Precisely, dear” Rowena replied, her lips curling into a grim line. “Only now, he’s expanded his vision. No longer content with Hell as it was, he’s decided to extend its boundaries. Permanently.”

Sam straightened, his brow furrowing. “You mean… he’s trying to bring Hell topside?”

Rowena nodded. 

“Not just bring it topside, Samuel. Recreate it. The whole planet, one giant pit of eternal torment, chaos, and misery. He’s determined to make Earth Hell’s crowning jewel — greater than it ever was below.”

You sat back, watching the pieces click into place for everyone else, but your mind was spinning in a different direction. Malgathor’s plan sounded insane, sure, but it also felt oddly familiar. Like you’d heard of something similar before.

“What’s the plan, then?” Dean asked, breaking the tense silence. “How do we stop this Hell wannabe dictator?”

Jack finally spoke. “We need to find his residence. He’s cloaking himself with magic strong enough to evade even me.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Even you? Aren’t you, like, God 2.0? Shouldn’t that come with a built-in demon GPS?”

“It’s not that easy, Dean” Jack said simply, then turned to you. “I may not have the means to find him… but someone might have heard something about him.”

You froze. The sudden shift in attention made your skin crawl. “Oh, no” you muttered, holding up a hand that was still trembling just a little. “Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea who this Malgathor is.”

Joe, that hunter guy from earlier shot his eyebrow up. “Oh, come on, champ. You’ve been cozying up to demons for how long? You’re telling me not one of them dropped Malgathor’s name during happy hour?”

“Cozying up to demons? Is that what we’re calling ‘being tortured and barely surviving’ now?” you snapped at him.

Sam’s eyes flicked between you and Joe, sensing the brewing storm. “Okay, let’s all just—”

“No” Joe cut him off, leaning forward with a smug look on his face and his arms crossed. “I’m serious. If anyone here knows anything about Hell’s A-list psychos, it’s her.”

“Wow, thanks” you shot back, voice laced with venom. “Really nice to know my trauma has made me your go-to demon Rolodex.”

Dean muttered a low, amused yikes under his breath, but Joe either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

Rowena cleared her throat. 

“Perhaps, instead of bickering like children, we could ask the right questions.” Her gaze landed on Joe then softened as it moved to you. It seemed uncharacteristic of her and infuriatingly annoying to you. “Y/N, dear, I understand you’ve been through… well, hell. But even the tiniest scrap of memory could make all the difference.”

“I said” you repeated and drew each word out slowly and sharper than a demon blade. “I. Don’t. Know.”

And with that, you decided this conversation was over.

Next on The Great Invasion (Sneak Peek from Chapter 3):

He picked up the silky fabric that you immediately recognized as your pajama top from earlier. “Except for this. Didn’t take you for a fancy PJ girl… But I gotta admit, this looks nice.”

But my shirt looks better on you, he thought, as he placed the black satin on the chair next to you.

“Dean… I swear, if you don’t get the hell out of here—”

Instinctively, your hand shot under the bed, grabbing the box of rock salt you’d stashed there for just such occasions.

“Woah, no need to get antsy” he said, moving his hands up in surrender.

You chuckled, glancing at the salt in your hand with a wicked smirk. “Wait, does this really work on you?” You raised an eyebrow.

Hey, you! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Looking fantastic in his shirt. 😉

All jokes aside, I hope you had fun reading Chapter 2 of The Great Invasion. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 3: coming soon!

🤍Series taglist🤍

@thebiggerbear @spnaquakindgdom @artyandink @globetrotter28 @kaz-2y5-spn @hobby27 @lamentationsofalonelypotato @muhahaha303 @yeehawgiddyup13 @applelovesposts

🤍Jensen taglist🤍

@roseblue373

[xxnashiraxx]

With Stars to Fill My Dream (12) - You Know How Much You Broke Me Apart

LOOK!!! I CAN FINALLY SHARE THIS!!! ❤❤❤ I commissioned this absolutely BEAUTIFUL art from @ritzeldraws of the dance scene in this chapter! It's so beautiful- it captures their expressions and feelings perfectly and it's been my iPad background for months waiting to be unveiled! It's so lovely and I'm beyond happy that I got the opportunity to request this. :") Thank you again!! (They're dancing to Duvet by Boa btw, just in case you thought it was a happy dance)

Prepare your tissues for this chapter 💕 It's sad, and my song choice is awful (sarcasm) but you'll recognize it if you've watched Cyberpunk Edgerunners. No happy endings in Night City 💔

Please enjoy!

Chapter Summary: A brush with death leads to denied realizations from Astarion when Ofelia suffers a fatal wound. After she recovers, the party takes a group photo with Ofelia's revived phone- courtesy of Gale- and they all dance the night away trying to forget about their next objective: taking down the goblin leaders. The unlikely pair's slow dance leads to a drunken confession, and further torment appears in the form of a dream visitor wearing the visage of a former friend from Ofelia's past...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 7,811

Have some dance pics below the link!!! ❤ (peep the accidental cursor lol)

✧˖Tag List: @khywren

Opening under the cut!

Astarion tries not to think too hard about the way her eyes had been so sweet one moment, and the next had snapped like someone had wrung a child’s neck in front of her. She’d been very successful hiding her tone, but the eyes never lie, and hers were like cold dead stars. Empty and black.

He watches her come out of the broken mill, face impassive, before her brows twitch and a sheepish frown pulls at her lips.

“Lae’zel… I’m really sorry. I should have listened… you know way more about any of these things than me.” 

“No matter. It is normal for warriors to exchange furried words in the heat of battle. Apologies are not necessary, but I will offer mine as well. What were you retrieving?” Ofelia lights up and holds out the little rectangle she’d pried off the goblin.

“My phone! I found it! It plays music!” She grins at Lae’zel earnestly and the gith looks at her a moment before turning away.

“I take it back.” Ofelia sticks her tongue out at Lae’zel’s retreating back before gathering the rest of them close. They disclose the identity of the gnome they’d pulled off the mill, the man walking away towards the treacherous temple ahead- nothing they could do to stop him.

“Okay, we’ve got what? A bugbear behind that building?” She asks, keen eyes darting to the left. Gale nods. “Three trolls in that building there, another four goblins around the back of the old apothecary. Then it’s the road down to the temple. And that sounds like way too many for us to tackle with sunset so close…” She presses a finger to her lips, deep in thought.

“We could break into groups, at least take out the rest here a little at a time?” Karlach asks, her eyes flashing towards the trolls.

“Okay… let’s balance the teams. Karlach, Gale? Trolls?” The two specified nod, though the wizard with less enthusiasm. “The bugbear… Lae’zel and I.” Astarion tuts.

“What about me, darling? I hope you’re not considering pairing me with these two?” He jerks his chin at Wyll and Shadowheart and the latter rolls her eyes at him and graces him with a rude hand gesture. Ofelia flicks her eyes up to him, darkness flaring in them, before she turns her chin away.

“Okay. Come with Lae’zel and me.” He grins, and though they can do without the wet blanket, he’ll trust Ofelia’s judgment. He slides next to her, brows creasing when she stiffens, but she flashes a warm smile at him and his concern ebbs. She’s started behaving like a timid little thing around him and it’s sweet, almost as sweet as her usual red cheeks and tender warmth. What a lovely thing she’ll be to indulge in when she finally lets him devour her whole.

Ofelia lets him pounce on the passed-out bugbear and he preens at the opportunity to show off, lodging his dagger into the neck of the beast as it roars in anguish. He dances out of range of its angry swipes, leaping away gracefully thanks to the meal she’d provided him this morning. Ofelia strums a little tune to embolden Lae’zel and with a final cleave of the githyanki’s greatsword, the creature collapses into a puddle of blood and sour ale. Vile smelling, at that.

“There are lots of supplies lying around, would be good to take them back to camp after we’re done here.” Ofelia murmurs to Lae’zel and the other woman grunts in acknowledgement.

“Ahh yes, moldy cheese wheels and old brandy. Hardly a feast,” He drops said bottle, her eyes meeting his again and he can see that razor-thin edge beneath like a yawning abyss, void and unseeing. He blinks and it’s gone, replaced by dry humor. When she looks away towards an old barn, he frowns. She’s behaving strangely. At least something useful had come from his centuries of torment- the power of observation. And he’s very good at it.

Had it been what he’d said? Perhaps it was a little… cold. Not that it matters, really. But it does now, and he’ll need to remedy it once the opportunity arises. He rolls his eyes inwardly, breathing out a sigh. Why is it so hard to win her affections? She’d even admitted the first time he’d drank from her how much she likes vampires, that should have won him some points, surely? All he needs is for her to agree to a gods damned night with him and he can take the rest from there. It’d be easy to pretend to care at that point. Clinical, even.

[ruruumin]

good luck, babe!

₊˚ ᗢ canon! lumine x gn! reader (x endgame! mona).

⤷ when you need a little loving, she's not there.

you can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth. you thought she might stick around longer. having found her lying in the sand with a rather obnoxious, pale-beige companion, you were the first person she met in teyvat. the first one who taught her how to use her wind glider, the one who guided her in her early battles, and the one who put faith in her. the outlandish traveler who has come to find her brother. that was who she was to everyone else. but to you, you thought from the bottom of your heart, she would be the one for you.

the times you’ve shared in dark inns and festivals were more than enough to send your feelings leaping to the top of your throat.

sending her away to liyue was heartbreaking. you knew this was the right thing for her. she was a free soul. she needed to find her brother. you couldn’t possibly keep her tied down to you in mondstadt. it was a selfish wish. an ugly one that sent your head reeling. she gave you a nervous kiss on the cheek, waving to you from the port.

you try to kiss her on her lips but she quickly dodges your advances, telling you she doesn’t want your public display of affection. she tries to comfort you, saying she’ll come back to visit you. and if that doesn’t happen, she can send you letters. 

i don’t want to call it off, but you don’t want to call it love. you have to suck everything up and settle for her short, fleeting kiss. a bitter taste lingers on your tongue. she boards the boat, making sure to wave to everyone crying their eyes out for her. when you shift your sights, you could feel your heart drop to your stomach, seeing the successor of the ragnvindr clan staring fondly at her. 

she occasionally writes letters to you, and you receive them in the comfort of your home, a place where she once took residence. it was signed and sprayed with her signature perfume, a smell that would always soothe your sore muscles. after a long day of adventure, her words are what you look forward to hearing. 

she talks about her journey in liyue. rambling about how delicious the food is, how vibrant the culture is, and how much fun she’s having with her new friends. she likes to bring up two people in particular. this strange fatui harbinger that is constantly getting on her nerves and the second, a very quiet yet protective soul that guards the land. you want to stuff the gross, sick feeling that is building at your core. you don’t want to assume anything. they could just be friends. a very chummy pair of friends, your devil argues. attached to this letter was a photo she took.

and it felt too intimate to just be friends. 

you only wanna be the one that i call ‘baby.’ she signs her name beside a heart, a subtle marking that she still thinks of you differently. you hold this letter close to your chest, ignoring the photos. 

she continues her life to inazuma, the land of eternity. not without a few more letters delivered to your front door, signed with her pretty name in gold ink.

you could only pray for her safety. inazuma was not the most welcoming country. you’ve heard stories about the archon being a ruthless warrior who imprisoned many of her people’s dreams. you want to tell her to return home (to you). you want her to stop her adventures and come back, kiss you again like she did all those nights before. remind you exactly why you’ve fallen in love with her. 

you don’t have the heart to tell her the truth. so you let her travel far and wide. like her time in liyue, she is writing to you about all the people she’s met. you can kiss a hundred boys in bars. a red and white colored samurai, a flirty detective, a kind-hearted blond, and the tea-loving clan leader. one photo after the other they flood like a broken dam. shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling. 

every single one of them influenced her in ways you could only imagine. they gave her the hope to continue moving forward. having accomplished what might be the impossible, stopping an archon’s power with two visions, you can’t help but compare yourself to her many talented friends in other nations.

her letters start to become antagonizing to you. each month they come in, detailing more and more about the things you didn’t want to hear. was inazuma better than what you provided in mondtsadt? or was it your relationship? this forbidden bond between two women. you want to ask her if she feels ashamed, but your heart and mind argue with each other.

like promised, she comes back to you after liyue’s lantern fest. and while you wanted to be the first person to greet her, it’s unnerving seeing the renowned alchemist, albedo, at the port. his eyes brightened up at the sight of her luminous hair and he rushed over to greet her. his sister klee quickly followed behind, her hand reaching out to push him closer towards the elusive traveler. he exhibited an excited expression you’ve never seen in your life, its unlike albedo.

you clutch onto the surface of your clothes, unsure of what to make of it all. 

i’m cliche, who cares? one step after the other, she pushes you onto your bed, fingers entangled. legs brush up against each other. hot breaths on your ear keeps you grounded to reality. her lips kiss the nape of your neck, the bottom of your jawline, the side of your temple. she whispers to you the words you’ve been wanting to hear and it reels your heart right out you.

you’re caught on her fishing line and she has you exactly where she wants you. its a sexually explicit kind of love affair.

and as quickly as she came, she left for the next place: sumeru. it should become routine to you at this point. you go on with your life, once a month a letter comes in, and she’ll always talk about her new friends. this time it was a very attractive scholar from a prestigious akademiya and a short, youthful boy. the latter was originally some kind of god that had been abandoned by inazuma’s archon, but now he has reformed underneath her care. she tells you that he follows her around like a lost puppy, always eager to help her out with denial trailing his every word. and i cry, it’s not fair. 

was every man in the world a better choice than you?

it hurts you to see those photos. seeing her smile so bright, waist snuggly close to her new friends’ hands, their eyes filled with the same adoration you had for her. she never took photos when she was here in mondstadt with you. so why does she do it with everyone else? was it really about you? about your relationship?

i just need a little loving, i just need a little air. she only comes to your house, eager to pepper kisses down your throat. very rarely do the two of you spend time in taverns or festivals. you’ve asked yourself so many questions. so many times. on various occasions. 

and the thought comes up to you in a nauseating wave: she was ashamed to be seen with you. you’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

she doesn’t return to mondstadt after sumeru. immediately traveling to the next area, she’s continued to capture the hearts of every man in the nation. you wonder to yourself if she’ll ever see you the way you need. if she’ll ever love you the way you wanted. hope is dashed one letter after the other. and you’ve stopped counting. you let them pile up on your desk, unopened and unread. 

you do everything in your power to forget about this outlandish traveler. returning to your singular room, folding the bed without a second thought, cooking meals for yourself. everything went back to how it was before she arrived. at first, it was hard to go back to where you started. you couldn’t forget the soft kisses or the whispers of her voice from haunting you. your heart was still yearning for someone who would never see you properly.

but with time, things will change. you’ll move on. and you’ll love someone else. that is the way of life after all.

you fasten your weapon, booking it out the door to meet a very peculiar girl, one that could tell your fortune with just the palm of your hand. she smiles at you with bright enthusiasm. her skin feels warm when she pulls you towards the open field, her hydro vision glistening underneath the sunlight. 

you were thankful you met her on that fateful day. on a particularly hot day, when you were leaving your house for some fresh air, she was the freedom you were yearning for. you met during one of your commissions and she hasn’t left your side since then. every day felt brighter when she’s around.

she drags you out of your home to dance with her at festivals. she invites you to her place to play a game of cards. she even kisses you on the back of your hand as if you were the most special woman in the world. and most importantly, she’s not afraid to be seen with you. if anything, it fuels her with immense pride. 

it felt liberating being with someone who wanted you.

it’s no longer a surprise to you when you see the luminous traveler at the port. she’s looking left and right for you, golden eyes searching for your figure in thick crowds. she’s out of breath when she pushes through everyone. after her stressful time in fontaine, she’s been dying to see you again. eager to feel your warmth on the tips of her fingers. she wants to ask you why you haven’t returned any of her letters. she needs answers. and she needs you. 

and when you think about me, all of those years ago, you’re standing face to face with ‘i told you.’ she stops in her tracks, heels stomping on the ground as her blood turns cold. hand in hand, you’re sitting next to a woman dressed in the prettiest of constellations. lights shine above you like a halo, highlighting your natural glow. she’s leaning her head against yours, kissing you on the lips. a proud expression is written upon her face, over the moon that she has you.

and lumine could do nothing but watch.

good luck, babe.

[cressidagrey]

I breathe flames each time I talk - Chapter 6

Summary:

The story of how Oriana Fireborn Belmont finally meets her mate's family.

Also the story of how Rhysand, The High Lord of the Night Court, finally recognises that by the cauldron, there is no fury like a female scorned.

Azriel would just like everybody to get along.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

It’s the High Lord. 

Azriel felt the wards shudder and then snap closed, his mouth ceasing to make sounds in the middle of his conversation with Cassian. 

“Oh no,” he breathed when he felt the ice-cold fury pour over their mating bond.

That was all he needed before he forced himself to get out of bed and snap at the shadows that tried to hold him down. For once they listened to him, probably because they knew that he was too fucking furious to be held down. 

“You are supposed to stay in bed!” Cassian protested. Azriel ignored that as he hobbled to the door. 

“My mate is going head to head with the fucking High Lord of the Night Court, I am not staying in the fucking bed!” He snapped. There was to hope that they wouldn’t outright kill each other but somehow he didn’t think that Oriana, in all her righteous fury, would be in a very forgiving mood. 

Cassian finally acquiesced, fitting himself under a shoulder and dragging him outside onto the porch where Nesta stood, staring at the spectacle before them. 

Rhys was trussed up like a turkey, suspended midair, merrily swinging in the wind, wings unable to move much in the golden bubble Oriana had him in. 

And Oriana…Oriana stood in front of him, hands on her hips and glaring at Rhys. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Rhysand! I told you to stay away,” Cassian snapped. “How? Is that your magic?” He asked Oriana, who just shrugged.

“It’s an enchantment. I reworked my warding net. That you broke,” she answered, her voice even. 

“When the fuck did you even do this?” Azriel demanded. 

“Last night when you were sleeping, Sweetling. I was bored,” Oriana answered. “And you are supposed to be in bed. I got this well in hand.” Of course. Sometimes she slid out of the bed in the middle of the night because she had an idea for something and needed to write it down before she could forget it. These days she kept a notebookonn on her bedside table, though the sound of a pen scratching over parchment had oftentimes woken him up, only to reach out and pull her against his chest. “It’s like a mouse trap. Just for High Lords. Who stick their nose into things that are absolutely none of their business,” she said brightly. 

Oh for cauldron’s sake. 

“I realise that I may have misstepped,” Rhys dared to say, still dangling head down in the air.

Oriana’s head snapped towards him. Azriel held back a grimace while Nesta started to outright grin. 

“ Misstepped ?” Oriana repeated voice light. The magical bindings jerked Rhys up. “Is that what we call that now?” 

In his defence, Rhys didn’t even tried to get out of it of his magical prison. He probably realised that trying anyway wouldn’t be a good idea. Who knew what else Oriana had worked into her enchantment when she had been working in it?

“I am surprised you haven’t set me on fire yet,” Rhys said drily. “Like last time.” Last time?”

“Oh, all in good time,” Oriana said brightly. “I enjoy your fear too much to cut this short.” 

Azriel probably… definitely shouldn’t find this attractive. But he did.

He really, really did. It was the pure magical power that poured from her, the intelligence that it must have taken to make a ward like that, her mind at work, protecting herself, protecting him. 

“There won’t be a repeat of last time, if you worry about that…” last time? What did she mean by last time? 

And then his attention was pulled towards Feyre twholanded a few feet before the golden dome that surrounded the Lakehouse and jogged the rest of the way, until she came to a stop in front of the ward.

“If you wouldn’t maim him for life, you would do me a favour!” Feyre called out. 

Oriana inclined her head. “High Lady.” There actually was respect in her voice that hadn’t been there before for Rhys. 

“Oh, just Feyre is fine!” Feyre assured her. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Oriana. But I think you already know that,” Oriana said. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“She’s very pretty. I can see why you wanted to marry her sister,” Feyre told Rhys drily. Cassian next to him choked on nothing.

“You wanted to marry her sister ?” Cassian asked, sounding incredulously. “What exactly did you do to his favourite jacket, Oriana?” he asked her, a grin stretching over his features. 

“I put it on fire,” Oriana answered easily. “And then I started with the rest of him. He had it coming though. He tried to flirt with Enya and when she turned him down, he tried it with me, but I was already engaged.”

Oh. Well. 

“You were engaged?” Cassian asked, surprised. 

Oriana shrugged. “Yes. I got engaged to get Enya out of marrying and being miserable for the rest of her life, an  then this one shows up and wants a bride. Which would already be bad enough but to decide that if one wouldn’t suffice, the next was an option? Yeah, I made my displeasure known. My sister is much happier in the infirmary than she ever would be as anybody’s wife,” she ranted. A fireball appeared with a dainty little flick of her wrist, flying across their yard near the bubble that still held Rhys. He was eyeing it with no small amount of trepidation. 

Azriel had no clue what to think about all of this. 

“Don’t worry, your jacket is safe from my wrath,” Oriana quipped. 

“Could you maybe not kill him?  I kinda want my son to know his father,” Feyre asked with a grimace 

“Thanks, Feyre darling,” Rhys said drily. She just shrugged 

“Sorry, you had this coming, Rhys,” Feyre said, crossing her arms. 

“Don’t worry, he won’t die,” Oriana promised. “I have only killed one person in my life and that wasn’t even on purpose.”

“Who did she kill?” Cassian asked him in a hiss. 

“Her husband,” Azriel said with a shrug. At Cassian’s stare, he added,  “He had it coming. It was self-defense.” 

Quite frankly, Wynstan had it coming. It could have been much worse. Oriana’s magic had onlyburneds him to death. For what he had done to her and taken from her, that kind of death could probably still be considered to be merciful as far as Azriel was concerned. 

“You can walk through the ward. It’s intent-basedd,” Oriana told Feyre at that moment. Feyre watched it carefully for a moment but then stepped through the ward that did nothing but glow brighter in response for a moment. 

“So what exactly was Rhysands intent if he triggered it?” Cassian asked the question that Azriel was also having.  

“No small amount of self-loathing, I imagine,” Oriana said drily just as Feyre reached them, pulling Azriel into a hug. 

“You look better than I thought you would,” she told him, a smile on her face. “She won’t burn him, will she?” she muttered under her breath and Azriel just shrugged. His guess was as good as any. 

“ We are going to talk about consequences,” Oriana said at that moment, flicking her wrist a second time, another fireball joining the first, hovering in the air. A third time. It spoke of so much control over her magic that Azriel was slightly awed. “And about what exactly constitutes appropriate behaviour towards my mate.“

The last thing he had expected was the words that left  Rhys’ mouth next: “I am sorry.“

Azriel’s eyes widened. This wasn’t…This was the last thing he had expected. Especially because Rhys sounded like he really was sorry. 

“I wasn’t aware that you even knew that word existed. For what are you sorry?“ Oriana prodded sharply, arms still crossed, clearly not willing to let a single thing go. 

Azriel couldn’t remember ever having anybody in his life who came down this harshly on anybody who did anything to disrespect thim. Even Rhys and Cassian thought that he could deal with it himself. Oriana…Oriana was seemingly glowing with righteous fury, thinly concealed magic sparking at his fingertips. 

“I was…out of line,” Rhys struggled to bring out the words. 

“Were you?” she questioned lightly. Her tone of voice was in a very sharp contrast to seemingly everything else she was doing. From Rhys dangling in the middle of their garden to the fireballs that surrounded him glowingly. 

“I was,” Rhys agreed. “I thought that…I tried to do what was best for the Night Court,” Rhys said quietly.  

“Correction. You tried to do what you thought was best for the Night Court,” Oriana cut him off. “Without even talking to anybody else or asking for advice.  But then you aren’particularlyar smart, so maybe I shouldn’t have expected any differently.”

Ouch. 

“Excuse me,“ Rhys complained, but she ignored that. Nesta bit back a laugh, while Feyre watched that whole thing with ill-concealed fascination. Cassian had crossed his arms, while Azriel himself was leaning harshly against the porch railing, as he watched his mate rail against Rhys. 

Oriana wasn’t even close to done, was she? 

He could feel it pour all over their bond, her fury, her anger, burning brightly as she concentrated it on who she clearly felt deserved all of it. 

Azriel wondered how she had put all the pieces together, but then maybe he shouldn’t. She knew him better than anybody else. And she was smarter than anybody he knew. She had probably overheard his conversation with Cassian and that had felt in all the blanks that she had been missing. 

“You know, I kept a list,” Oriana said suddenly. “A list of political decisions you made that I thought were unwise. But quite frankly, it didn’t really matter to me. If Velaris turned out to be unsustainable, I was just going to go back into the mountain,“ she told him. “But some decisions you made were about Azriel. And these…they pertain to me. They matter to me.”

“If I didn’t do what I did you would have probably never even met him,” Rhys pointed out, his voice hoarsely. The fireballs burned brighter in response, flames appearing at Oriana’s fingertips as she uncrossed her arms and held her hands to her side, clearly used to not burn the clothing she was wearing.  

“Is that supposed to make me be on your side?” she hissed.  “You think that makes it any better?  I love Azriel! I would rather not have him feel any pain at all than even spend a moment in my presence!” He flinched at her words because he had very different thoughts about that. He would rather walk through fire and burn alive than be even a moment without Oriana. 

“When I met him, he was a fucking shell of a being! He expected me to turn him away at every corner, to tell him to leave me alone! You hurt him. So much so that for close to two years, he lived in a house without any furniture! Where he slept on the floor. And I quote *I grew up in a cell, at least this has windows!* ” He couldn’t help but flinch at her words. 

“Oh Az…” Cassian whispered and he held tighter to the railing. Oriana wasn’t finished though. 

“You hurt him! With your words, and with your actions! I could argue against why you did what you did. I could pull apart your reasoning like plucking feathers from a chicken! But that doesn’t matter because you actually believed that you did the right thing!” 

It was so quiet after her outburst, that the only thing that could be heard was Oriana’s harsh breathing. 

“I…I just wanted to protect him,” Rhys finally whispered, his eyes closed, anguish clear on his face. 

“Who, Lucien?” Oriana snapped. 

“Azriel,” Rhys disagreed. “My brother.” His eyes opened and violet eyes searched out Azriel’s even over the distance between them. 

“I am sorry,” Rhyapologiseded. “I am so sorry.  I thought that it was infatuation. I didn’t think that you really loved her. I…I wanted to protect you. I know how strong the mating bond can be. I know that. And I…I thought that the chances that she was going to choose him were slim. Not because of you. But because of that bond. I wanted to protect you and I wanted to protect this Court. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

The words stood between them, quiet but heartfelt. 

And maybe if Rhys had actually told him that…if he actually told him that he was worried about him that he loved him but that Elain was mated and that even when she made any appearance that she wasn’t interested in Lucien, that could change when she actually settled into being a High Fae and didn’t just grief after the humanity that she had lost…

He could have understood that. He could have been reasoned with that. 

“Why didn’t you tell him that?” Oriana questioned quietly. “You could have just told him that.”

“I could have. But I didn’t. And that wasn’t even the worst thing I said,” Rhys admitted. “I said something even worse than that. I said to go to the pleasure hall if he wanted sex.”

Azriel flinched at the words that had haunted him. 

Reasonably he could understand how Rhys must have meant it. But they felt like something truly different to him, meant something very different to him. 

“I am sorry for that,” Rhys said quietly. “I…thought that you didn’t love her. But it wasn’t on me to make that determination. And I shouldn’t have ever even thought about telling you that.” He swallowed. “I am sorry, Azriel. You are my brother. And I am so sorry for how treated yoItt’s will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

He knew that Rhys meant every word and he was really not looking forward to hashing this out for much longer. 

“You’re gonna let him down?” he asked Oriana, who turned towards him. He pushed forgiveness at contentedness and he saw the moment she softened. 

“Do you want me to?” she asked and he just nodded. She turned to Rhys. 

“Have you learned your lesson?” She asked him pointedly.

“Don’t cross you,” he answered. Fire burst out of her hands at that. 

“Wrong answer,” she hissed at him. 

“Don’t stick my nose into things that are none of my business?” he tried again. 

“Closer.” 

“Don’t treat my brother like that again.” 

“You ever even think about doing anything like that to Azriel again, this is going to look like children’s play. Do you understand?” She asked, every word burning with intensity. Rhys swallowed. Azriel watched with some amusement that he actually was scared if the look in violet eyes was anything to go by. 

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

“We should keep her. The psychological warfare would be unparalleled,” Cassian whispered to him. Azriel just snorted. 

It took nothing more than another flick of her wrist, and the fireballs rushed into the ward, the golden bubble that kept Rhys let him go and he unceremoniously plummeted to the ground until his wings could wildly flap and save him from landing face first into the mud. 

He finally let go of the porch railing, managing to hobble down the two steps down onto the wide expanse of grass. Rhys crossed the distance to him and yanked him into a tight hug. 

Something inside him eased at that, as his hands fisted into his brother’s jacket, his face pressing against his shoulder. 

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Never.”

“You are two idiots, but I love you,” Cassian said drily, suddenly next to him and Azriel snorted as Cassian pounced on both of them in a hug. “Are you finally gonna come to family dinners again now?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

They were his brothers. 

Even when she had never seen all three together before that moment, she could easily see that. 

She pushed any remaining anger she felt away because quite frankly, her own anger didn’t really matter. Azriel was the one who had deserved an apology. Azriel was the one who needed to hear that from his brother.

She crossed the yard and, back to the porch, finding Nesta and Feyre both watching the three of them just like she had done. 

“I think you could have at least put him on fire a little bit ,” Nesta told her drily and Oriana snorted in amusement, while Feyre rolled her eyes. 

“Ah, you know…there is always a next time,” Oriana said, shaking her hands, sending the last few sparks of fire flying into the evening air.

“Are you finally gonna come to family dinners again now?” she heard Cassian ask and watched him as half-carried, half-dragged Azriel up the steps to the house. 

“I will,” he agreed. 

“And you are going to share some of your toys?” Cassian prodded. 

“He will,” Oriana agreed for him. “I’ll even make you your own when that is possible.”

“You know what, I like her,” Cassian said with a grin as he poured Azriel into the old rocking chair they kept on the porch.

“You can’t really say any differently, because you are still waiting for Azriel to rip out your throat,” she shot back. 

“Shh, don’t remind him,” Cassian shushed her wide-eye, making her snort. Azriel wasn't going to rip out his throat. They both knew. Give him a few bruises...once he felt better though, definitely. 

“You were supposed to stay in bed, Sweetling,” she told Azriel drily as she took in the way his skin was ashen, sweat beading at his hairline. This really wasn't good for him. 

“How about I sit right here, does that count?” he offered and she snorted. It was probably the best she could hope for. 

"You do that, and you take your pain position without argument," she told him pointedly. He just inclined his head. 

“You know Mor is going to be so sad that she didn’t see it,” Cassian commented at that moment to Rhys, who just glowered at him in response. “Or Amren.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll show them the whole thing,” Feyre said with a shrug, looking at her fingernails.

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys sighed.

“Nah, I agree, show them, Feyre,” Cassian said with a grin. “It’s not every day that you get to see Rhys dangling head down and apologising. So about family dinners…” he started once again.

“Well, we are already all here. If you want to get Amren and…Mor?  You could,” she suggested, looking at Azriel who looked anxious but hopeful. Hopeful that she was going to meet his family, and that she would get along with them. “Though you’ll all be subjected to my cooking.”

“The meatballs were definitely smelling mostly edible,”  Nesta said with a grin and she shrugged. 

“Just for that you can help me make bread,” she suggested, Nesta laughed but inclined her head. 

“I’ll go fetch them,” Feyre suggested brightly “Do you have an anti-winnowing ward on here?” she asked, but Oriana shook her head, opening it up with a turn of her bracelet. 

“Not anymore,” she said easily as she walked in. “One of you, get Azriel inside and put him somewhere to sit down!” she called over her shoulder. “And whoever else can help prepare a rabbit to roast, can help me in the kitchen!” 

Cassian ended up being the one following along in the kitchen, while Rhys got Azriel to sit at the dining table, fussing over him much to Azriel’s and her own chagrin.

“Did I break the winnowing ward?” Cassian asked her, sounding apologetic.

“No, she just lifted it,” Azriel answered. “I could feel that,” he told her drily and she shrugged. 

“I tied it to a bracelet,” she explained. “Makes it easier to change.”

“You can do that?” Rhysand asked and she just raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I can do nearly anything I put my mind to,” she told him pointedly. He inclined his head at that, and she pulled out the rabbit from the stasis cabinet she put it on, as Azriel had hunted it a week or so ago. 

Nesta and Rhys ended up helping with the bread, while Cassian cleaned and spitted the rabbit that ended up in the oven. 

Even Azriel got in on it, cleaning the potatoes she gave him, though she used an enchanted knife to peel them…making it much quicker than it would be to do it by hand. 

Feyre came back, a winged boy on her hip, Amren in two and a beautiful blonde female with her that Oriana had seen before. 

“Amren,” Oriana said with a smile, greeting one of her grandmother’s oldest friends. 

“Oriana,” Amren responded, inclining her head. “And our very own Shadowsinger. Your grandmother did mention that you always made the most interesting choices.” Oriana couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What can I say, normal is boring,” Oriana responded, much to the amusement of Nesta who snorted. 

“It’s so nice to meet you properly. I am Mor,” the blonde female burst out with, pulling her into a hug. “So, out of pure interest, what did Azriel do when he saw what you bought on you?” she teased her but Oriana just laughed. 

“He hasn’t yet,” she answered. “I am keeping it for a special occasion.” It made Mor grin and wink at her. Azriel watched the exchange with wide eyes. 

“Nothing that you need to worry about, sweetling,” she teased him and he just rolled his eyes at her. 

“And whose that?” Oriana asked turning to the little boy still in his mother’s arms that looked at her with bright blue eyes, the ball she had made him clutched in his hands. 

“That’s Nyx,” Feyre said with a grin. “Can you say hello to Oriana, Nyxie?” 

He gave her a toothy grin and then held out his arms for her, demandingly. 

“I think you got competition, Az,” Cassian muttered, making Azriel roll his eyes once again. Oriana just shook her head but offered her hands to the little boy who happily wrapped his fingers around hers. 

He looked like a perfect mix between his parents, with black, fluttering tiny wings that were absolutely adorable. 

She couldn’t help but wish that this was something that Azriel and she could have one day, that it was an option they had. They didn’t. But maybe that was okay. As long as she had AZriel, she was going to be happy. 

Anything else…that would just be the icing on an already perfect cake. 

“So who wants something to eat?” she asked brightly. 

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .001

Note: Will use events from Mk9-11 + Aftermath. I am changing canon for some characters to fit the story. Changing canon in general for MK1, so at some point I will add in scenes not in the main story and probably will diverge from it in the end. Some character personality changes, not major, but enough to add depth. Slight character dynamic changes (Mostly Lin Kuei, so the trio feel slightly closer as a whole)

Also excuse the small exposition dump that happens through the chapter, it was needed to set up plot points in the future, so in the future we can get to those juicy character interactions easier!

LOVE INTERESTS: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, Rain

Also on AO3: NEW ERA

part two

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO DOESN'T REMEMBER

Memories are fickle things. 

Awakening in the middle of a field, you heard the buzzing of bugs, and the grass beside you moved as a creature scurried past. Your head hurt, and a fog settled in your mind as if it were blocking something. You sat up slowly, noting the moonlight shining down on the area around you.

You looked down at your hands. It was odd, it felt like you were familiar with it, yet at the same time it felt all too foreign to you. You wiggled your toes, feeling the grass brush against them to remind you that they existed. 

Where were you?

Swallowing any dread you felt building up, you stood up wearily. Your body swayed as you got up, almost stumbling into the grass once more. The area around felt devoid of humans, undisturbed nature spreading far. It was beautiful and breathtaking, but it only soothed you for a moment before panic began to seep back in again.

Where were you?

In the distance was a soft light. A flame? Perhaps. You dragged your feet as you walked towards it. You’d rather go discover whatever that was then stick around being lost wherever you had woken up. 

Why were you there in the first place? 

Fear was crawling down your back at the inability to answer the nagging questions within your head. Shaking it off, you continued on. The closer you got, the better you could identify where the flame was from. 

A temple of sorts?

It had a dragon motif from what you could see, and it was constructed mainly from wood and stone. Red shingles, or at least you assumed it was…it was hard to see in the moonlight, lined the rooftops of the temple ahead. The tree leaves even seemed to be red. There were multiple buildings, one being a tall tower, and a few smaller buildings. The flame, which was quite large from what you could see, was lit in a pavilion of sorts.

Your mind throbbed as a vague memory of a temple floating in the sky appeared in your mind. But this wasn’t that same temple. Not at all. Why were you thinking of that?

Soon enough, you found yourself at the entrance of the area, marveling at the architecture and the beauty of the area up close. How wonderful. Eventually, you spotted two figures walking towards you. 

The first thing you noticed was their glowing blue eyes.

Not knowing what to do, you stood there. Although you felt a pit of dread build up in your stomach as they approached, you stood unwavering. You grimaced, not at the sight of them, but at how the figures coming closer seemed to intensify a dull throb that had been building up in the back of your head.

Silly as it was, were they the cause of your headache? Of the fog in your head that seemed to block out any memories you tried to pry from your mind? 

You watched as the two figures, that you could now identify as men, approached. You could read a vague sense of concern on one of their faces, and the other held a sense of shock on his. They walked over a bridge, stopping at the top as if to create a sense of height. You looked up at them, your will not wavering despite the dread that was building in your stomach.

Your headache, why was it hurting so much?

You watched as one of them held out his hands, forming one a fist connecting to his palm. He smiled at you. It felt warm. The other nodded his head in acknowledgement, but you could see the small smile he had as well. You stumbled as your headache turned into a sharp pain, as if someone had just stabbed your head. Gasping, you stumbled forward. 

The man who had been presenting his hands grabbed you to steady you, and you noted the strange sense of familiarity as he did so. His wrapped hands were firm as he helped you right yourself. You looked up into his eyes, and without thinking, a name popped into your head.

“Liu Kang?”

The dread you felt in your stomach turned into fear as the man’s eyes widened, and the vague shock that had been on his face before was now on full display. He glanced over to his companion who held the same look of shock before they both looked down at you, almost accusingly.

“How did you know that?”

That was years ago.

Shortly after the shock had worn off, you had been escorted into the fire temple. They gave you a place to rest for the night, but you could hear the whispers of Liu Kang and Geras as they walked away. What they were discussing, you weren’t certain.

You could hear the concerned tone in their voice loud and clear despite that.

The next morning in what was perhaps the politest interrogation ever, it was revealed that you had a lack of memories.

Kind of.

You had memories, or at least you thought so, but they were all jumbled up in your head. They felt wrong, and foreign and they didn’t match up with what you were seeing. After all, your mind was telling you the man who was interrogating you was Liu Kang…but it was not the same mortal man that popped into your mind. 

You also eventually recognized Geras, which seemed to alarm the two even more, even if they were subtle about it. Eventually, after long deliberation with each other, Liu Kang eventually came up to you and offered you a place to stay at the fire temple due to your lack of memory and residence.

You were relieved to have a place to rest and stay, even if you had a nagging feeling that the offer was a disguised excuse to keep a close eye on you.

You supposed that was fair.

Eventually, the memories you had came back slowly over the years, and you confided in Liu Kang about them. This led to an eventual friendship with the god as you unraveled the strange situation that you were in. The man, though cordial, had been wary at first of you. You thought that was reasonable. A random stranger showing up in rags and recognizing you without introduction?

That was suspicious for certain, you could not blame the fire god for his caution. Especially since he proclaimed himself to be the Protector of Earthrealm, you could have easily been a threat.

Thankfully, you were not. Or at least, he seemed to deem that you were not. Although you had a jumbled mess of mismatching memories, the two of you had concluded that the memories you did have were visions of sorts, of other realities, and that the memories you used to have were gone. 

Visions of other worlds traded for the memories of your past. That’s what he told you, anyways. You had a sinking feeling that wasn’t quite true, and that was the biggest secret you held from Liu Kang. After all, the more memories you regained, the less it felt that they were random visions. 

They felt like a past life…and maybe they were. You weren’t certain yet. You had a nagging feeling there were many memories left to unlock.

The guilt of hiding this doubt, this secret, was immense at first. Ignoring the fact that you were lying to a god, you were concealing doubts from a man who had offered you shelter and food.

Eventually the guilt died down into near nothingness, but there was still a twinge of guilt every time you lied about it.

Aside from that, you rediscovered abilities that you had not realized you had. 

Shapeshifting into animals. You could transform your whole body into creatures, or parts of them. It was a helpful power, you found. You also seemed to have some sort of muscle memory of fighting skills. Lord Liu Kang had once offered to train you, and to both of your surprise, you were quite skilled.

Rusty at first, but it was obvious your body knew how to fight. It was nothing that years, or in all honesty, months could not fix.

Another ability you realized after a few years was how your body did not seem to age. Or at least, not in the same way humans did. At first, the monks seemed to chalk it up to good genetics, complimenting on how you seemed to keep your youth. However, as more years passed, whispers of magic arose.

Concerned with the strange state of your body, you confided in the fire god. Liu Kang suggested that your body was one that lived longer, perhaps of one that was not native to Earth, or Earthrealm as he called it…an edenian, perhaps? He explained the realm of Outworld, and the existence of the realms in general. He had once explained it much before, along with some monks, but not to the historical extent he had given you at that time.

Through these explanations, you remembered Outworld much more clearly, but the memories of Outworld were once again inconsistent with the world he described.

The Outworld you knew had been run by a tyrant before it was passed to an heir that had been overthrown. It was war hungry, and not at all pretty as he described. Liu Kang offered that, perhaps, when the Mortal Kombat tournament rolled around in a few years, you could join him and the champions he would bring to Outworld.

You agreed, of course. Maybe that realm was key to unlocking more memories, and more explanations. Even though you cherished the Fire Temple, a place you had learned to call home, you now had a purpose going forward.

Go to Outworld to seek the rest of your memories.

And now, you were here, enjoying another peaceful morning in the Fire Temple.

Staring out from the pavilion, you inhaled deeply as you took in the sunrise. You could never tire of the beautiful view. Your ears picked up the soft sound of someone walking towards you, and you turned around, already familiar with who it was. 

“Hello, Liu Kang.” You greeted, a smile on your face as you nodded towards the fire god. The fire god sent you a soft smile in return as he walked up to be by your side. Due to your memories of a younger, mortal Liu Kang that had popped up so often at first, you had taken up a nasty habit of addressing him casually. You tried to fix this, but he had permitted you to address him casually in private.

It felt like a strange honor.

He greeted you, your name rolling off his tongue in a familiar way as his hands settled on the railing much like yours were. It was common for the two of you to meet up here at sunrise, to indulge in the simple yet breathtaking view. It was a tradition from years ago.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Liu Kang inquired, much like he did nearly every morning. He gazed at the horizon with a sense of serenity and peace before his glowing eyes landed on you. With a chuckle you turned your gaze to the horizon he had been staring at previously.

“It is, just like it is every morning.” You mused, watching as the sky lightened, the darkness making way for the pretty light blue hues as a pink and orange color settled over the horizon. Your fingers tapped the wood as you hummed, remembering that something special was happening today. “Today we’re going to the village of Fengjian, correct?” You inquired, a surge of excitement buzzing through you.

You had been around the world here and there over the years to accompany Liu Kang and sometimes even the Lin Kuei, but it had been a while since your last venture. 

“Correct, Madam Bo said two of her trainees were ready for the exam scenario, and today we're going to observe.” Liu Kang said, nodding as he confirmed the plans he had told you about two weeks ago. You noted how he kept his gaze intent on you, as if analyzing your reaction. You could not hold back the smile on your lips.

“Excellent, it’s been forever since I’ve had Madam Bo’s cooking.” You commented, remembering just how delicious the older woman’s cooking was. You were nearly drooling at the thought of it. Not only that, but Madam Bo was someone you valued as well.

Whenever you saw her, you were reminded of a fatherly figure who you hazily remembered who drunk a lot of alcohol. It was odd, but she too must have sensed the connection, as she took you in as if you were a child of her own ever since she met you. You wished you could go out to see her more.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you heard the faintest of footsteps. Reflexively, you transformed your ears into those of bats and craned them around to hone in on the sound. You tilted your head as you focused before you turned to look at Liu Kang, ears turning back to normal.

“I thought the Lin Kuei were to come later?” You inquired, revealing that you were now aware of their presence. You heard some muttering before the three assassins revealed themselves. Sub Zero, Scorpion, and Smoke. Three of the Lin Kuei you had grown closest to during your association with Liu Kang.

“That was the plan, but we decided to meet up earlier to discuss the plan as we shall leave earlier to get in position to observe.” Liu Kang explained. The two of you turned around to face the three. You smiled at the three. Smoke and Scorpion both bowed to the two of you. Sub Zero, notably, did not, but you did notice the slight nod of acknowledgement sent your way.

“Perceptive as always, and I thought we could finally sneak up on you.” Smoke greeted, addressing you as he spoke your name, a light playful tone to his voice. Smoke was always the friendliest of the three, it was a delight to talk to him. He was the most casual. You noted the slightly irritated glare from Sub Zero sent his way.

You surmised that Smoke had managed to convince the two others to also sneak in. You could not tell whether the irritation was from having to partake in such a silly endeavor, or if it was due to the fact that he blamed Smoke for giving the three of them away.

“Maybe another time, Tomas.” You chuckled, covering your mouth as you did so. Despite your words, you were competitive, and you weren’t planning on giving up in the ongoing game that you had both been playing for a while now. “Regardless, it is good to see you all, it’s been a while.” With that, you nodded towards Liu Kang, letting him go over the plan with the trio.

You observed silently as excitement coursed through your veins.

You had a feeling that tonight was going to be something special.

part two

[espballs]

It's Never Just Coffee

Chapter 1 - I Saw You Paint The Sun

♡ Summary: The Mean Bean gets a new alien barista! And Shadow wants to learn more about the other hedgehog in Green Hills

♡ Note: Canon divergent, technically takes place at the start of Sonic 2 but Knuckles left Eggman and became bros with Sonic. Shadow got released by Commander Walters. Gerald died. Shadow doesn't want to destroy the world cuz Eggman and Gerald aren't there. Characters may be ooc because of altered events

♡ Cross posted on AO3

“Ma’am this is The Mean Bean… There are no Unicorn Frappuccinos here...”

The little girl on the other side of the counter frowned. “Then can you give me something pink?” She asked quietly, instantly perking up with a new idea. “Oh! And add a little unicorn horn to it too! With sprinkles, powder, and drizzle!”

Shadow recoiled out of sheer disgust. How could anyone drink something like that when coffee beans existed?

Shadow sighed and softened his gaze. He looked down at the little girl. “I can’t make that, but what I can make you is a hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream”

The girl brightened up again and slammed a ten dollar bill onto the counter. “YES! Make me that!” she screamed.

Shadow recoiled so fast he almost fell off of his stepping stool. But he took her money and entered it into the cash register and handed the girl her change before hopping off his stool.

His ears flicked when she let out a squeal of excitement. The little girl quickly rushed out the way for Stone to take care of the next customer. 

Shadow moved with precision every time he made a drink. Cold milk from the jug poured carefully into the pitcher. Pitcher under the steam nozzle, where it’d let out a small hiss and the milk began to bubble as the temperature rose.

Shadow tended to think while it heated up.

Shadow hadn’t been working at Coffee shop for long, today was his second day and he was already considering quitting. It had been two weeks since his sudden release from G.U.N.

But Shadow knew he was definitely being monitored—if the band on his left wrist was anything to go by.  

Milk swirling with cocoa powder always drew Shadow back in. The rich scent it released was one Shadow had grown accustomed to in the past week. It brought him back to her.

Pouring the mixture into the ceramic mug. Shadow wondered why they let him out, and why now. Fifty years of pain and they let him go despite the fact he might try and take revenge on them for killing her?

He circled the whipped cream around till it began to build up into a tall mountain of white. Shadow stepped back to momentarily admire it before he stuck a peppermint stick in the center.

Shadow placed the hot chocolate in front of the girl with a soft exhale, not realizing he’d been holding his breath until the moment passed. He glanced up and saw the little girl’s eyes light up as she admired her drink.

“Thank you,” She quickly said before she grabbed the mug and chugged her drink.

Perhaps it was the little girl's youth, her blonde hair, or even her blue coat that somehow reminded Shadow of Maria.

Perhaps it was odd of him to be reminded of her every time he saw a blonde, whenever he looked at the color blue, or whenever he saw someone as youthful as she was when she died.

Maria was a constant thought in his brain ever since his release. The pain of her loss felt like too much to bear at times

Shadow just shook his head and turned back to his work. 

“You alright Shadow?” Stone asked, standing by the front counter.

Shadow didn’t respond at first. He tried to steady his mind many times without success, he worried it was beginning to become a distraction. Would Stone get rid of him for it?  

“Y’know… if you’re feeling sick I can get Brayden to cover your shift.” Stone whispered.

Brayden was the only other employee of The Mean Bean. He worked there before Stone owned it. But Brayden was the only employee that Stone didn’t fire after he took over. (after he accused the previous owner of money laundering and got her locked up)

Shadow quickly shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Stone sighed, showing his dissatisfaction at Shadow’s response. Stone shuffled his feet, glancing around the shop. “You know, you could talk about it, if you wanted to." Stone tried to be subtle about his suggestion. Stone failed.

Shadow shot him a glance, his gaze narrowing into a glare and he felt like throwing Stone out the window. Shadow refrained from doing so since Stone had taken him in and given him a job. "I'm not here for therapy.”

“I get it. I do,” Stone held up his hands in a mock surrender and backed away from Shadow. "I don’t know what you're thinking about, or if anything at all." Shadow really wanted to just walk away. “But you’ve got a fresh start, kid. Even if it feels like you’re passing or wasting time, this is a chance to get away from whatever put you in that alleyway”

What put Shadow in that alleyway was the rain. Shadow had been hiding in a trash bin to cover from the night when Stone found him.

So technically that made no sense.

But Stone constantly drew his ex that disappeared off the planet on customer's coffee’s everyday and cried about how much he missed the guy so he never made any sense. Shadow was pretty sure Stone was going insane too…

“...Okay?” Shadow had no idea what to say to any of that.

Stone just nodded awkwardly and took a step back, still staring at Shadow. “Okay… okay” He kept staring at the hedgehog till the bell at the door rang and a customer walked in.

Weirdo.

“Oh, fuck” Stone sighed.

Now Shadow just had to turn and see what customer managed to make Stone curse with their mere presence. Either to thank them for helping him escape the awkward conversation or give them a kick to the face.

“What's up, Stone!”

Shadow would be annoyed too if someone walked in with that much energy at 11:23 in the morning. But he would be annoyed if anyone came in with that much energy at any time so who was he to be talking?

“Wade,” Stone greeted through gritted teeth, putting a smile on his face.

Wade Whipple was apparently a regular at The Mean Bean, much to Stone’s dismay. Shadow wondered if he would end up having to suffer the same fate as Stone: Having to serve Wade Whipple a coffee with copious amounts of sugar.

Stone had given Shadow an entire tutorial on how to make Wade’s concerning order without killing the man or dissatisfying him on his first day.

Wade walked up to the counter with a blindingly bright smile on his face. “Got an important case to solve today!” he announced proudly. Now that interested Shadow. As far as he knew, Green Hills was a quiet town with little to no crime at all.

“Three donuts went missing from my desk this morning!” Oh , way to disappoint! 

This was obviously not worth Shadow’s time. The espresso machine was in need of cleaning, and much more worthy of his time.

Stone forced a smile, he forced it so much you could tell he was forcing it. “Let me guess. Large coffee, and a ton of extra sugar?”

Wade obviously didn’t notice. “You know it!” Wade smiled so much it was starting to concern Shadow. “Oh, and throw in one of those muffins! I’ve been craving one since Friday” It was Tuesday… Why didn’t he just go to the store? Were the Mean Bean’s pastries that good?

Stone barely had time to start Wade’s coffee order before the doorbell chimed again. Shadow was gonna have to serve that customer… he crossed his fingers and prayed they wouldn’t be as energetic as Wade.

“Morning, Wade!” the man greeted, his tone casual as he approached the counter.

Well he technically wasn’t as bad!

The sigh Stone let out told Shadow that the guy definitely was.

Shadow wondered if quitting on the spot would be rude. He decided it probably was and turned around.

A man in a sheriff uniform walked up to the counter and stood besides Wade. The name ‘Wachowksi’ was on the right side of his uniform. He looked normal, not that interesting, and the soft smile on his face looked normal compared to Wade. He didn't look like a strict cop, but he wasn't as sunshine and rainbows as Wade.

“Ah! Tom! I’ve got a case for you!” Shadow desperately hoped it would be more interesting. “Donuts! Three stolen right off my desk!” Goddamnit.

"You sure it wasn't you that ate them-"

Shadow hopped up onto his stepping stool and waited for the two to finish talking. “Oooo! Another alien hedgehog!” Wade whispered.

… Another?

Shadow resisted the urge to tilt his head and ask about that. But instead, he looked Tom dead in the eye and asked, “What would you like to order?”

To say the sheriff was dumbfounded was an understatement.

Tom just blinked at him for a few moments before he shook his head. His mouth hung open for a moment before he spoke. “Oh, uhm… just coffee, black” He said before quickly going back to staring at Shadow and recovered just as quick. “Thanks”

Shadow nodded before hopping off the stool.

“He looks like Sonic, but dark and edgy with gay highlights...” Wade failed to whisper quietly. “You think he knows him?”

Sonic must be the other hedgehog!

“Isn’t it wrong to think all alien hedgehogs know each other?”  

Shadow really wanted to laugh, but I’d reveal he was eavesdropping on their conversation. 

“I mean… aliens coming here is basically normal after Tails and Knuckles dropped by.” Tom laughed quietly. 

So there are other aliens on the planet besides me and Sonic!

“Right, right, right” Wade nodded in understanding, bowing his head slightly before quickly bouncing back. “He’s all dark and broody though, nothing like Sonic… bet they'd be best friends!” 

Shadow did not like where that was going.

“You should bring Sonic here! I bet he’d explode just seeing another hedgehog around!” 

Tom chuckled lightly. “I don’t think Sonic needs any more explosions in his life. And knowing him, he’d probably run around the room and talk a mile to the guy.”

Wade clasped his hands together as if the idea thrilled him. “Exactly! Imagine how happy he’d be! Sonic’s like your son dude! You should want him to have friends he relates to! It’d be so good for him!” 

Shadow wanted to think something mean about that, but he was starting to wonder if it’d be good for him too.

Stone handed Wade his coffee and muffin. “Will that be all today?”

“Oh, yeah! Thanks!” Wade was smiling brightly again before he turned back to Tom. “Just saying! I think their friendship would be mind blowing dude!”

Tom just nodded along. “Yeah, yeah”

Shadow saw the opportunity to step back onto his stool and slide Tom’s coffee over to him. 

“Shouldn’t you get back to working on your… donut case?” Tom asked. Is he trying to get rid of Wade?

Wade’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Oh crap! I totally forgot about that.” Wade rushed out the door. Shadow was kind of sad to see him go since now he wouldn’t be able to find out much about that other hedgehog.

“So… new to Green Hills?”

Shadow looked up at Tom. “Yes” he said in the most monotone voice he could muster. Shadow was fighting the urge to ask a million questions about the man's alien hedgehog son.

“Don’t know if you heard, but my kid, Sonic—” Tom cut off mid-sentence when he looked back and Shadow’s pupils dilated in what was probably excitement, his tail wagging behind him. “...Sonic, he’s also a hedgehog, not from earth… and he's... blue”

“I’ve heard.” Shadow replied, trying to sound monotone and bored but the slight tightness in his voice betrayed his interest. Shadow hadn’t heard anything about the hedgehog before, but the idea of him was enough to have Shadow captivated.

Tom smiled at him. “Well, nice to meet you! I gotta head back to the station now!” Tom took his coffee and left.

Shadow only watched him leave.

“What do you know about Sonic?”

Stone blinked, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “The Hedgehog?” He asked, even though there was no one else Shadow would be asking about.

Shadow nodded up at him, now that they were in the privacy of Stone’s apartment. Shadow wasted no time in getting to the point, as soon as the door shut it was time to interrogate Stone.

“He’s… a hedgehog” Shadow, ever patient and kind, resisted the violent urge to punch Stone to the moon. “Uhm… he’s fast, like stupidly fast” Shadow ran to his bedroom and rushed back with a notebook and pencil in hand to write that down. 

Stone gave him a funny look, so Shadow glared at him to continue. “Uhm… He never shuts up, he’s ridiculously optimistic, annoyingly energetic…”

Shadow nodded along as he frantically scribbled the words down. He muttered to himself as he wrote, “Talkative…. Optimistic… energetic…”

Stone laughed. “Is he not your type?”

Shadow ignored the comment and watched Stone as he sat down on the couch. “Tell me more about him” Shadow didn’t demand it this time, his voice softer and his tone sounded almost pleading .

Well Stone couldn’t say no to him now… 

“He lives with The Wachowski’s, Tom and his wife, Maddie” Stone began, holding up two fingers to count. “Then there's Tails, he’s a yellow alien fox with two tails, he makes gadgets and stuff”

Shadow continued to nod and mutter. “Residence: Wachowski household. Family: Tom, Maddie, Tails” he looked back up at Stone to continue.

Stone momentarily wondered if he should be concerned but decided this was totally normal. “Then there’s Knuckles, believe it or not the guy came to Earth to kill him! But Sonic forgave him! Now he’s part of the family!”

Shadow froze in his scribbling, mind bouncing back and forth between wondering how Sonic could be so forgiving and how anyone would ever want to kill him?

Did Sonic have some super secret super dark backstory?

Shadow wrote that theory down in an instant.

“You know, for someone who pretends to be all disinterested… You’re really into this.”

Shadow shot him a glare but didn’t deny it, because he was very interested. “Is there anything else I should know about?”

Stone scratched his chin and went quiet to go deep into his thoughts. Shadow held his breath as he slowly leaned in closer to hear what the man would say.

“He’s like a hero to the people of Green Hills,” Shadow wasted no time in writing that down. “He helps the people here out of the good of his heart, just to be a hero… y’know?” 

“A hero… selfless… kind…” Shadow muttered.

“He, Knuckles, and Tails are kind of like a team now, they work with G.U.N to keep the world safe.” Shadow was quickly alarmed by that. “Not for them, but with them, they’re not assets or anything.”

Shadow wrote that down.

Shadow looked back up at Stone, that same hopeful glint in his eyes. Shadow was smiling.

It made Stone want to smile so bad. When he first met Shadow, he was like a dirty stray cat, out in the back alley of the Mean Bean hiding in trash cans. Maybe helping Shadow learn more about Sonic wouldn’t be so bad considering it made him smile. 

There was a childlike gleam in his eyes when he smiled.

Gosh Stone was really starting to get attached

Stone shifted in his seat and looked at Shadow, that familiar teasing glint back in his eyes. "I didn't know you were such a fan of Sonic, is he your new hero?"

Shadow's face flushed slightly, caught completely off guard by the teasing, but he kept his cool, trying to brush off the question. "I wouldn’t say that..." he muttered, eyes darting around. He hated to admit how much he was beginning to care about someone he didn’t even know.

Stone smiled at him, because he knew exactly what Shadow was feeling. “He’s interested in meeting new people, especially people like him. As soon as Tom opens his mouth about you he’ll be running to say hi.”

Shadow’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say that?!” He yelled, frantically flipping pages and writing notes at top speed. “What am I supposed to say to him if he shows up! I need to prepare! What if he shows up Tomorrow? I need to brush my quills! Do you know his favorite food? Maybe I should make him some food as a... friendship gift! Yeah that, now do I decorate the Mean Bean for his arrival...” Stone tuned out at that because he was not looking forward to any other ideas Shadow might have.

Stone was beginning to wonder if Shadow was a teenage girl in disguise.

Note: Only posting this on tumblr in-case ppl from ao3 like it here more... also cuz I wanna post updates n funny shit

[firstelevens]

in light of the thunderbolts pcs, angry kisses for sambucky pls

My brain is apparently so DnD-pilled that I stared at this for ten minutes trying to figure out what a thunderbolts player character was supposed to be before realizing you probably meant "post-credits scene." I have not in fact seen the film, but I have long since made peace with ignoring the proverbial Council's stupid-ass decisions and I will continue to do so. Here's a sequel to this fic, sorry if you were hoping for something more tied to canon!

56. angry kisses

The thing about Sam's relentless goddamn professionalism is that he has to find ways of clinging to it even when it's the very last thing that he wants to do. He's exceptionally good at it by now, years of facing off against scheming politicians and soliloquizing villains honing a skill that he'd already cultivated as a teenager. It's seamless enough that most people don't even realize when it's happening.

Maybe that's what makes it so fucking infuriating when he watches Bucky cross the room to have a few quiet words with Joaquín, who stands up a minute later and says something about having some food while everyone waits to debrief with the authorities. Like magic, the rest of Team Cap and all but one of the stupidly-named Thunderbolts file out to take the elevator to the Compound's kitchen.

Sam waits for the distant ding of the elevator to sound before he turns to Bucky, struggling to keep his voice even. "You giving orders to my team now?"

Bucky scoffs. "Please. Torres would never listen to an order from me."

"Yeah, the way I hear it, there's a lot of that going around these days."

"Is there?" asks Bucky, in the blank voice that he only ever uses when he's trying to provoke Sam. In a few strides, he crosses the room to stand in front of Sam, close but not quite in his space. "Seems to me like it's just you."

"I've never taken orders from you," snaps Sam. "And I'm not about to start."

"No one's telling you to," says Bucky. "But it used to be that when we were in the field together, you'd at least listen to what I had to say."

Sam crosses his arms, scowling. He can feel those threads of professionalism slipping away, and he tries his best to snatch at them. "If you want to start a conversation about who was listening to who, we can do that, but I don't think you're gonna like where it ends up, so maybe we should stop right here."

"Don't try to make this about me not sticking to protocol when we're talking about you putting your life on the line," Bucky says. "And Christ, stop using your press conference voice on me. If you're angry, just be angry."

He clenches his jaw because he can't clench his fist, keeps his tone as measured as he can. "You know I don't do that."

"You don't do that in front of strangers," snaps Bucky. "Whatever we are or aren't to each other anymore, I know for damn sure we aren't strangers."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" Sam asks quietly. "You want me to tell you how tired I am? How much I dreaded coming here and having to work with a team that was built to spite me? How much bullshit gets thrown my way every day, how much easier that would be to handle if I still had a partner at my side?"

"I want you to say what you actually want to say," says Bucky, and there's something pleading in his face. "Whatever it is that you want to say. Be tired, be worried, be furious at me. Just don't be...that. That persona that you had to build just so you could get a foot in the fucking door. Not in front of me."

There was a time when Sam didn't have to be that, not with Bucky. There was a time when he could be that version of himself with the rest of the world and then come home, tuck his face against Bucky's chest and let himself be held as he raged at the whole rest of the world. Even now, Sam's hands itch to reach out to him, to pull him close so Sam can rest his aching head in the crook of Bucky's neck.

Sam keeps his voice even and pretends he doesn't see the hurt in Bucky's face, focusing his gaze on the windows behind him. "You tried to die today," he says, and feels the anger spike in his chest even as he says the words. "You told me to trust you and then you tried to put yourself in the path of something that would have killed you."

"It would have killed you," corrects Bucky, and Sam is torn between wanting to cry and wanting to punch him in the face. "It might have killed me. I was better equipped to handle it."

"It wasn't your call to make," Sam says, instead of don't you know that that would've killed me, too? "I had a plan. I always do."

"And that plan was what? You dying instead of me?"

"That plan was to make things safe for everyone else."

Bucky steps into Sam's space, his chest brushing against Sam's crossed arms. Sam tries not to notice that, either. "And you really think that a safer world exists without you in it? You really believe that any good would come of that?"

"Nobody makes sacrifices because they're easy, Bucky," Sam bites out. "People make them because it's the only way."

"Good," says Bucky. "Then you understand why I did what I did."

"I'll never understand anything you do, Barnes. I'll never understand why you're here, and I'll never understand why you work for the people you work for, and I'll never understand why you-" Sam cuts himself off, trying to calm his breathing. "Never mind."

"No, say it," says Bucky, right up in Sam's face now. "Say whatever it is. I'm tired of Customer Service Cap. Say what you need to say."

Sam sets his jaw. "Why? What do you need to hear so bad, huh? What's gonna change if I say it to you?"

"Hell if I know," says Bucky, "but whatever changes, it can't make things worse than they are right now, can it? You won't even fucking look at me, Sam."

"What do you need me to look at you for, huh? You have a whole team for that now, right? News cameras, too?"

"I have a team now because you sent me away, Sam. You ended things and you all but kicked me off the team. What was I supposed to do, fuck back off to the forties like Steve?"

"You were supposed to be safe," roars Sam, before he can think better of it, and the rest comes spilling out like water behind a broken dam. "They wanted to use you for wetwork and infiltration. They made a whole entire proposal about it. The Joint Chiefs approved it and everything. It was going to be a condition of you staying on the team, of them upholding the terms of your pardon."

Bucky's eyebrows knit together. "Sam..."

"They wanted to use you, and I sent you away to stop them, and you just ended up working for them anyway," says Sam, softer, and he can feel his face flushing, can feel the tears gathering behind his eyes. "So now you're gone and you're not safe."

Their time apart hasn't changed how clearly Sam can read Bucky's face, and he sees a flurry of emotions pass over him before his jaw takes on a determined set. "That wasn't your call to make," growls Bucky.

Before Sam can argue it, Bucky's hands come up to hold his face, palms against Sam's jaw while his thumbs wipe away the tears that Sam hadn't noticed escaping.

Half a second later, Bucky's lips are on his, bruising and desperate, and Sam can't help but reciprocate, uncrossing his arms so he can clutch Bucky closer, backing up until they ram into a wall, picture frames rattling precariously from the impact. He fists one hand in Bucky's shirt to keep him from going too far and slips the other underneath, trailing up his stomach until it reaches the center of his chest. Bucky's heartbeat thuds away under Sam's palm, familiar if a little faster than usual, and Sam feels the universe right itself where it had been knocked off of its axis.

He doesn't know what tomorrow looks like, or even three minutes from now, but he knows that he has Bucky in his arms again, both their hearts beating steady in their chests, and that's as good a place as any to start.

[lyubovsdiary]

Hi, can u do Armando x Vampire Reader(Lucy). Where, Armando, Mike, and Marcus were on a mission and they got captured and held hostage. Around 30 minutes, Mike and Marcus were trying to figure out a plan while Armando was listening till they heard screaming outside and then more screaming inside. The shots fired down and then the door was busted with great strength. Few men were guarding Marcus, Mike, and Armando. Then Lucy killed the first two by biting and breaking till the last one got his heart ripped out. Marcus and Mike were screaming but Armando was smiling little bit till it revealed Lucy. She said hey guys. Her mouth was all bloody and she got them out. In the end, Armando kissed her like crazy.

yeah ofc!!

Monster

a.aretas x vampire!reader

summary: due to a mission gone wrong, armando’s girlfriend has to come rescue her lover, his father and his father’s partner. what better time to meet his family?

warnings: violence, blood, graphic killing

a/n: i hope i could do your request justice!! i had some issues capturing mike and marcus’ humour and the way they talk, so i hope it resembles them at least somewhat. the smell problem marcus has with dead bodies is actually canon!! it’s mentioned in the first movie. also it’s my first time writing a supernatural reader, but i tried my best. the 5 eps i watched of the vampire diaries really paid off

“I thought when I joined las fuerzas del orden, shit like this wouldn’t happen no more,” Armando said while looking pointedly at Mike.

Said man just looked at him incredulously. “That’s too damn bad then. I’m gon’ call the guys over real quick and tell them to let us go because my bitchass son didn’t think policemen ever got kidnapped. Don’t piss me off,” Mike replied. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go and Armando knew that damn well. He didn’t need to rub it in.

“Nah Mike, you can’t talk to yo son like that. What kinda role model are you gon’ be for him?” Marcus decided to pitch in.

“Now I know you ain’t tryna give me tips on raising my son, Marcus. Besides, what bullshit advice is that? He’s a grown ass man now, he has no role models,” Mike complained.

While the two continued to argue, Armando inspected his surroundings. The chair he was tied to was made of metal, so he couldn’t break it and have his hands and feet free. The room they were in was dimly lit and the walls were bare, if not for the grime and dirt sticking to them and the floor. In the nearest angle there seemed to be badly cleaned up blood and a fingernail. This really wasn’t what Armando expected would happen.

When he was briefed earlier today about the mission’s details together with the rest of the AMMO team, it had seemed simple enough. Infiltrate this new gang’s base, collect as much information as possible and then knock out and arrest everyone they could find. They were supposed to be quiet and sneaky to not alarm the gang’s members and make them run.

But things had not gone to plan. As soon as Armando, Mike and Marcus entered the bulding, they had been drugged with some kind of substance which made them pass out. Next thing Armando knew, he was tied to a chair next to the two idiots who were still talking next to him. He knew that every connection he had to the AMMO team had been ripped out and taken by their captors. But they hadn’t accounted for one thing: You.

Now it was just a matter of time before you got him out of here. Armando would just have to be patient and trust you.

In this moment he decided to listen in on the conversation currently held between the other two men in the room.

“I’m telling you Mike, if you make yourself sweat enough, you’ll be out of these ropes in no time,” Marcus insisted.

“Let’s see it then. C’mon, show me how the hell that’s supposed to work. And even if you did somehow succeed, what would you do after that? You ain’t got weapons, or a plan of what the building looks like. How many people are even in here?” Mike ridiculed. He knew damn well Marcus had no idea, ‘cause he never listened when team meetings were had. 25 years with his partner had given him enough experience to be sure of that.

“We can figure that out later, man. The first step is to get out of these ropes. See how my hand is moving already? I’m almost free Mike, you just wait and see how my genius gets us out of this place,” Marcus assured, wrists barely moving an inch.

Armando then decided to stop listening to them to protect his common sense and his peace. Their plan certainly wasn’t the best he’d ever heard of, but he had done much stupider and more reckless things, so he didn’t judge too much.

Suddenly the conversation between the two men was interrupted by loud screaming far away. Though that was cut off by a sickening ‘crack’. Someone started to yell something about “Shoot her! Shoot her now, you idiot!” but more screaming picked up and even more nauseating sounds of bones breaking, flesh tearing and knives meeting flesh could be heard.

Soon one couldn’t distinguish between the different sounds and they were combined to a vile symphony of chaos.

“What the fuck is happening out there?” Mike questioned, looking at the door like it might explode at any given moment. Marcus wasn’t looking too well either, fearing this may be the day a mission proved too much for him and his partner to handle.

Meanwhile, a small smile had formed on Armando’s lips. His saviour was coming.

You didn’t often kill people, moreover choosing to steal blood bags from the hospital you worked at and rarely harming a human. When Armando was in danger though, it was a completely different story. No one who dared lay a finger on him stayed alive long enough to regret ever touching the one person you loved more than anything.

Armando rarely used that to his advantage, usually using his own skills to defend himself if needed, but in situations like these, it was very useful to have a girlfriend who could hear your heartbeat a hundred miles away. You also tended to stay in the area of their mission, just as an extra precaution.

The sounds of destruction were coming closer and closer and Mike was slowly starting to panick too. Whatever was coming wasn’t anything good, and it seemed like it was coming for them next. He didn’t want to die here. He also didn’t want Marcus and his son to die here next to him due to some kind of psychopath targeting the wrong gang at the wrong time.

But he guessed wishes didn’t always come true.

The door was busted down, revealing a person biting into the neck of what seemed to be a gangster guarding the three men. Another gangster tried to punch the figure in the face, but his shoulder was quickly dislocated and his neck was bitten into as well. Dropping to the floor next to his companion shortly after, the men’s attention now focused solely on the figure they couldn’t see properly before.

You lifted your head and gave them perfect view of your fangs glistening with blood in the light streaming in from the outside. The red liquid was dripping down your chin, staining your clothes and the ground beneath you. Your pupils were dilated, high off the rush fresh blood granted you. A knife was sitting in your hand, stained in the crimson colour you loved so much. You looked like the monsters mothers warned their young children about and fathers looked under beds and in closets for.

Marcus couldn’t contain a terrified shriek, when out of nowhere another gangster threw herself at you, trying to stab you with a dagger she had hidden in her shoe. Deciding you had had enough, your hand reached inside her chest, and returned with her still beating heart sitting perfectly on it.

The girl looked at her heart and the hole in her chest with big, terror-filled eyes. She couldn’t even whimper before slumping down the nearest wall and losing her life.

Throwing her heart next to her lifeless body, you stepped over her, turning to look at the three men held captive.

“Hey guys. Need some help?” you asked evenly, scanning the faces until you found who you were looking for. Crouching down next to him, you inspected his face, arms, and any visible part of him to see if you could make out any injuries.

“Are you okay? Did those bastards hurt you? I swear I’ll find a way to bring them back to life just to kill them more painfully this time around,” you muttered with a tight voice while undoing the ropes wrapped around Armando’s wrists and ankles.

“No, mama, estoy bien. They didn’t get a chance to, because mi hermosa novia was too quick for them to even think about it,” the smooth man praised you, knowing it always made you feel better. Praise was something you loved to hear, especially coming from him.

While the two of you were having your sweet moment, Marcus and Mike were having trouble comprehending what exactly had just happened. In all the years they had worked together they had never been quiet for as long as they were now. Their speechlessnes was partly due to the fact that Armando seemed to know you very well and partly due to the mess you had left behind.

The brutality of the deaths of the gangsters shocked the two detectives. They had seen a lot in their careers, but this was a whole new level of freak that they didn’t know how to deal with. Especially Marcus had to breathe through his mouth, because the stench was deadly. The smell of corpses wasn’t something that ever got easier to smell, even after more than 25 years on the force.

After finally freeing Armando, the two of you went over to his two teammates to free them from their ropes too. Armando went to his father and you went to Marcus.

“Nah, don’t you touch me! I have a wife and kids! If you drink my blood or whatever you and your father Dracula do, she’s gonna kill you, I swear!” Marcus shouted, trying to lean away as far as possible from you.

“Relax, I won’t hurt you,” you promised, having to suppress your laughter at his comment. You had to admit it wasn’t as bad as what others have said when they found out what you were. Granted, they usually didn’t have time to say anything much, because the next thing they saw after your fangs was either heaven or hell, but still.

Freeing the detectives as well, the four of you started to make your way out of the bulding, with Mike leading the way, Marcus watching his six and Armando and you following behind them.

Before stepping into the hallway though, Armando grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him. After looking in your eyes for one magnetic moment, he leaned down and kissed you passionately. Borderline making out with you next to the people you had killed for him. The two of you were certainly meant to find each other, since neither of you minded.

Translations:

las fuerzas del orden - the law enforcement

estoy bien - I’m fine

mi hermosa novia - my beautiful girlfriend

[water-lemon-alex]

excuse my half-baked menu squad essay but. notice how all the duos in the menu squad are all closely tied to its parallel.

for example payjay and paco are parallels , english breakfast and picklepaper are parallels same goes for picklejuice and tacowrap

again please excuse me if there are some stuff here that doesn’t make sense just a disclaimer

paper + oj / pickle + taco

now paper and oj became friends in the first place because of how oj can’t stand to be betrayed by anyone again. paper has also been betrayed before by s1 knife, so they kinda share the similarity. so they decided to stick together and be together no matter what. no wonder they’re the first canon couple.

pickle and taco STOPPED being friends because of betrayal. taco never thought of pickle cutting ties with her because she didn’t expect to lose. (she mentions she was built to win and she was confident in winning so losing (and how it went from there) never crossed her mind)

the payjay paco parallels revolve around trust and betrayal. paper and oj trusted each other and they both know how it feels to be betrayed. pickle and taco trusted each other but pickle lost his trust after taco’s betrayal. payjay has both been betrayed before but not from each other. in paco’s case only pickle got betrayed

taco has tried apologizing to pickle so many times via letters but pickle burned all those letters because of the pain she’s caused him. taco couldn’t move on at the time, even if pickle eventually did. and that breaks me so much.

oj + taco / paper + pickle

my personal favorite because of how their alliances played a huge part in oj and taco getting in the finale. but here’s the thing. both taco and oj have been so dependent (ish) on pickle and paper respectively (but especially on taco’s case.) in oj’s case it’s because he hasn’t won many challenges himself? one of the only times he has ever won a challenge was with paper’s help (the tile divide)

it was the middle of the night when i made this so this might not make sense later. but do you see me. pickle could not move on from taco back then, while paper feels like he “doesn’t exist” (see: ii16) because of oj’s ego getting to himself

the prize money (and literally everything that followed after) has broke taco and oj so hard it’s so obvious. because of oj’s victory, taco “unraveled” and told pickle the truth about her plan. and then domino effect.

despite oj winning the prize and building a hotel for everyone’s sake, it has taken quite a toll on him. and because of the stress that oj goes through (all those responsibilities, many of the contestants cause chaos at the hotel so oj never really takes a break much) he wanted to make himself more recognized for the things he do around the hotel. he BOUGHT this hotel for a reason. so he eventually becomes egotistical in some way, due to how the others don’t give him enough credit for giving them a place to stay post-s1 finale.

taco wanted to become more recognized too. because of her regrets with pickle, she wanted to get that recognition from someone for the hard work she does to get what she wants. for once. that someone is mic. but due to microphone leaving her because of taco taking her plans to extremes, she didn’t care about the prize anymore.

“If I can’t win the prize, I’ll play this last reprisal just to bring their lies all to an end…”

more on pickle and paper, they haven’t interacted much outside of “seas the day” (go watch seas the day btw they’re so silly), paper and pickle have both played a big part in getting taco and oj to the finale because they were their closest allies

in “the penultimate poll”, pickle only voted paper out because oj has apologized for his previous actions (the part where he resents paper for helping taco with her lemon problem) and also because oj has been around for the whole season, making him more deserving to stay than a rejoiner like paper

(it’s pretty funny because two seasons later a rejoiner (cabby) won the season. paper didn’t have too much development because he rejoined kinda late ://)

and of course, taco was never an option for pickle to vote out because he rooted for taco all the way. so taco’s betrayal hurt him even more because of that

the tacojay picklepaper parallels revolves around the attention from others, and each other! taco and oj really needed some attention after the effects of the finale to their mental health. they needed validation for everything they do. paper and pickle felt like they can’t see themselves outside the previously mentioned s1 finalists. well, from post-s1 up to ii16 at least. both have now moved on from that pain, with paper understanding oj’s feelings while pickle tries to forget about taco and move on with his life.

(do you also notice how oj and taco are the only contestants to have hosted a challenge (in the canon universe, salt and pepper were also hosts in an alternate universe). they’re not even contestants in that season. being put back into the game in a different way even though the game has already broken them enough lmao)

oj + pickle / paper + taco

this is the parallel that i can’t really explain in detail because of the very little interactions they have. this kinda has to do something with change and how they work around with each other mayhaps?

now with picklejuice, they don’t interact much at all but do you remember how they were the first two characters to get ❌’d in ii16? and tacowrap / tacopaper were so sad after their deletions? the closest friend you’ve ever had got deleted in front of your eyes! how wonderful!

i can’t bring this much in depth because they literally do not interact. well paper was still afraid of taco during ii17 because of their bumpy past post-s1 however pickle and oj eventually become cool with each other. definitely friends

paper has tried helping taco before but now they’re not as close as before. meanwhile pickle and oj used to be on pretty bad terms ever since oj left the alliance between them, taco and bomb. but they eventually became cool with each other. pretty much on the neutral side but you saw how they were hanging out at s2e7 lmao

in conclusion: the season 1 final four have so many things in common! and also they are arguably the best final four in the show DON’T COME AT ME /silly

menu squad <33 🧡💛🤍💚

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfic prompt : Wind has the most ridiculous most overpowered skill set ever created

Like he can hold an entire pig over his head and throw it (with no trouble he probably got banned from handling animals at Lon Lon ranch very quickly)

He can hold a rito and throw her as well (and a korok too I suppose but Makar probably weighs like less then four apples)

And he can carry a hammer heavy enough to kill a monster on impact (and for that you need a force of at the very least a car crash at 180 miles per hour and the skull hammer has a very small impact Area so it probably needs even more force to kill at impact) and swing that thing with no trouble and even jump with it (Warriors probably exploded when he tried to carry it for wind and face planted)

He can walk in boots heavy enough to weigh down a child effortlessly (that kid never skipped leg day to do that a kick of his probably can kill a man with minimal effort)

And with the power bracelets he can pick up entire boulders the size of buildings and throw them very far and most importantly he can throw them hard enough that they shatter into dust

He can get flung across the entire great sea with no problem and hit a wall at full speed and not die (when the first attack on ganondorf failed and when the weird pearl carrying things exploded one after another)

Like that is some great ability to tank damage

Nobody in the chain could win in an arm wrestling against him and the kid isn’t even an adult yet (even twilight who can carry goats is still not capable of yeeting them would have a lot of trouble and twilight is an fully grown and trained adult not a 13 year old )

And that is just the physical part the magical part is even more horrifying

He can use fire , ice and light all with his own magic (even Hyrule is incapable off using light and legend still needs a fire rod for fire)

He just collects arrows and and then uses magic on them (he can probably use it without arrows because the arrows have little to do with innate magic)

He probably can heal someone with the light magic too (and ice a bruise at once)

And start a fire

The chain is probably going to taverns and then starting shit by betting on Wind while he murders the competition (and then collecting an easy profit from it)

And we are not even talking about the Wind waker because that stick absolutely annihilates the power scaling of the chain

He can Mind control with the command melody (a safe way to let time use the fierce deity mask because he can canonically control goddess statuettes a mask is much easier)

The blood moon is rising

No it’s not now it’s day again (song of passing and then constantly changing the night to daytime)

Hurricanes to fast travel well obviously why the fuck not (if he can take an entire boat with him 8 extra people are an easy job)

Change the wind back and forth just because it is convenient

In phantom hourglass :

Seeing ghosts

Stopping time

Walking through walls

And he had used the life force of a literal god to have enough life force to make it through temples (like that definitely has consequences)

And incapable of getting nightmares (because Cielia promised to forever protect his dreams)

Like I’m sure the chain thought that wind is an actual god or divine mercy for their adventure

If Wind thinks he is the weakest and that his ability is pretty normal and not trying to hide anything it gets so much more ridiculous

Like little guy is a god and didn’t notice