#i visited one person and we kept jumping and spinning together

[hassianlovebot]

ohmygod i visited someone's plot and i got kicked out cause they left but for a second i thought they just kicked me out cause i did something wrong and i got so scared 😭 visiting plots is not for the faint of heart!!!!!

[asoiafzambi]

"Spoilers" Spoilers! Spoilers?

Like always, this could all be totally fake yadda-yadda ... and if the leakers make this all up, they should definitely go into fanfiction writing, because some of that shit is hilarious.

I just like to elaborate on my thoughts about it, fake or not.

Daemyra at odds:

I don't like it. What can we daemyra stans say except we don't like it (that early in the timeline)? But the showmakers seem to be dead set on it. Not sure if there will/can be a short reconciliation at some point (maybe when they take King's Landing together?) but I wont hold my breath.

Daemon at Harrenhal:

If you wanted to make the already insanely split online fandom rip each others throats out and set everything and themselves on fire, having Daemon get roofie-raped by Alys Rivers is definitely a way to go about it, and I will be there like:

I'm not squeamish about SA in media/fiction. In GOT the Sansa stuff was just absolutely nonsensical, because she is not Jeyne Poole and what the fuck is Littlefinger doing? If they really needed Sansa raped (que?), then do something with Harry the Heir, you lazy fucks. Dany/Drogo and Jaime/Cersei at the Sept is definitely very iffy in the books too.

Back to HOTD, I will be rather disappointed though, if Daemon doesn't get what happens and thinks it was just a dream, because I really want to see his reaction to getting raped by a 150 year old red-zombie-witch.

Making Alys a 150 year old red-zombie-witch is a bit fanservicy already, together with the desperate tie-in to Aegon's I conquest (got a new show to sell, I guess).

Jace/Sara vs. Jace/Cregan:

Here I will make myself very popular by saying I actually greatly prefer Jace/Sara over Jace/Cregan.

I don't mind Jace being gay/bi, but I just think it makes absolutely no sense for Cregan. It's probably because I'm an ole Stark 'hater'. Since fandom is dead set on the bromance, they might do it, and I will roll my eyes a bit and just write Sara/Jace/Cregan thruple fic to piss everybody off.

I would much rather have a steamy Daemon/Laenor or Daemon/Hugh (if he is Viserys' son omg*) scene, but with that I'm probably just showing my age.

But nevermind with whom Jace fucks around up north, for the love of gods don't let Baela be crushed or whiny about Jace' betrayal. She should spit/laugh in his face tbh. Screw the angry black woman cliche, she has every right to be angry with prince dumbass. Immediately moving on with Alyn is obligatory anyways.

* I mean, visiting him in his smithy and complimenting his hammer ... seriously?

Blood and Cheese:

They seem to have backpedalled on the 'accident' ideas a bit (because nobody likes it that much), but I think it will still be a misunderstanding.

If Daemon instructs Blood (and Cheese) to beat the crap out of Helaena until she says a name, what he means is until she names one of her brothers for the one on one revenge. But poor Hel will have no idea what's going on with these thugs jumping her and in the end just say the name of one of her kids to make them stop.

Blood: Instructions unclear, cut the head off of a pre-schooler.

Cue everybodies shocked face vs. Daemon's stupid face: Wait? Helaena has kids? I kinda forgot (could be pretty meta).

There is also a leak version now where Daemon has absolutely nothing to do with B&C and it's all Rhaenyra's idea, which also would probably make fandom explode and seems a bit far fetched.

Corlys and Rhaenys and Marilda and her bastard boys:

I really hope the cheating plot wont be that prominent. I'm not a fan of the modern-romance spin on 'medival' marriage. This might be my personal damage though, because my narcisstic demi-romantic, poly ass will never be able to warp her mind around the concept of monogamy. I will just find it weird that Rhaenys would actually believe Corlys kept it in his pants during his years-long adventures and be baffled that he didn't.

I would also like it, if Rhaenys wasn't just mad on her own behalf, but maybe also a bit on Marilda's behalf. Like: Dude, you get this side-chick for your voyages/campains, impregnate her twice, and then what ... show up every five years with a package of milk? Talk about being a nasty deadbeat bitch, my man.

Rook's Rest:

I actually really liked how one of the leaks described Rhaenys' death, with her ashes falling from the sky after being grilled by Vhagar and onto Corlys and Aegon on the ground. What a wonderful nasty picture. I'm also fine with Aegon finding this hilarious and getting the show'sTM facebeating from Corlys for it.

I think that's all. Now I have to actually go back to writing my brazillion AU WIPs ... damn writers block.

[honeypiehotchner]

Gravedigger’s Daughter (Hangman x Fem!Reader) -- part one

Holy shit I think I might be slowly coming out of my writing slump. Here’s the beginning of this mini-series about this fine ass man🤪 (Yes there will be smut later on)

Summary: You’re finally back in Fightertown to visit Penny and Amelia, but there also happens to be a group of aviators back at Top Gun. One of which who seems dead-set on wooing you.

WC: 3,996

Warnings: none, I think, unless you count Hangman’s shameless flirting

When Penny told you to come home, back to Fightertown, you should’ve known she had ulterior motives.

But what did you do? You drove down for the weekend anyway.

You’re currently living in the heart of San Diego, so you aren’t too far from Fightertown. You grew up there, but after your dad died, you and your mom had to move somewhere else. It hurt a little too much to be there right after the accident, but you never could move far.

Your mom passed away last year from a cancer that the doctors had found three years prior, just a few weeks after your dad’s death. The punches kept coming that year.

Now, you’re coasting. There isn’t much that a person can do when they’re in their twenties and have already lost their parents. Life feels…different without your mom. 

Penny has been trying every second she can to get you to come visit, but you’ve had a litany of excuses. Until today.

The Hard Deck doesn’t open to the public for a few hours, but you walk right in, sneaking up on Amelia who does her homework at the bar.

“Boo.”

“Aunt Y/N!” Amelia knows your tricks too well. She spins and throws her arms around your neck, hugging you tightly. This embrace alone is enough to tell you that it’s been too long.

“Hey kiddo,” you murmur. “I’ve missed you.” You hug her back just as tight, shaking her a little.

“I’ve missed you too!” Amelia pauses, looking over your shoulder before whispering, “Guess who’s here.”

“Who?” 

“Maverick,” Amelia says. “He’s outside with Mom.”

“What?” you nearly shriek, whirling around to look down at the beach. Holy shit. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“I have no idea,” Amelia shrugs. “But they’ve been talking for a while. Do you think they’ll get back together?”

Penny has no idea that Amelia knows about her and Maverick. You told Amelia it’s best to keep it a secret between you two that she knows. Penny will say something when she’s ready. Maybe.

But the idea of them getting back together? You scoff. “He’s gotta wait for Hell to freeze over first,” you chuckle. “Let’s go save her, shall we?”

Amelia grins. “Race you.” And she takes off.

“Oh shit.” You bolt after her, nowhere near as fast as you used to be, and Amelia seems to have just gotten faster.

“Mom!” Amelia shouts as she darts across the sand. You jump off the deck and roll, popping up on your feet. “Look who I found!”

“When did you get so fast?” you yell, loving the bewildered looks you get from Penny and Maverick. You clearly interrupted something, but you’re not sure yet if it’s a good thing.

“When did you get so slow?” Amelia fires back, her hands resting on her hips.

“You’re lucky you’re my niece,” you laugh. “Hey Pen.” You wrap your arms around her, squeezing tightly.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Penny says softly. She glances awkwardly at Maverick. “Uhm, you remember--”

“I can’t believe it,” Mav says. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you reply. “You get into trouble again?”

He laughs. “Yeah, something like that. What about you?”

“Just missed these two,” you say truthfully, pulling Penny and Amelia into you by your arms. “You missed Penny, I’m presuming-- Ow!” An elbow to the ribs shuts you up real quick.

Maverick answers anyway. “I did. I really did.”

“Gross,” Amelia comments, wiggling out from your arm. “Can we get ice cream?”

“Have you had dinner?” Penny interjects.

“We can get dinner and ice cream,” you offer. “My treat. That okay?”

“Of course,” Penny nods. “You should come back to the bar later.”

“Alright,” you say, a little skeptical. She never outright asks like that unless she wants or needs you to be there. “I’ll put this rascal to bed and then head over.”

“You don’t need to tuck me in,” Amelia groans. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you ruffle her hair. “Race you.” And you take off, hearing Penny and Maverick laughing as you and Amelia kick up sand.

+++

Amelia spills everything over dinner and ice cream, catching you up with lightning speed.

Her dad (the Jackass, as you call him when Penny talks to you about him) has a new wife now, all cozy in his stupid Hawaiian home. You’ve never rolled your eyes so hard.

School is as boring as ever, but she’s managing. High school is new and weird but she has friends and seems to be doing okay. It’s hard not to when Fightertown is so close knit.

Too close knit. That’s part of why you and your mom had to move.

Amelia says Penny is still hung up on Maverick. “I’m not dumb,” Amelia says. “I can tell.” And that makes you laugh. Nothing gets past this kid. Granted, Penny and Maverick are painfully obvious about their feelings.

Speaking of that, when Amelia asks how you are, she follows it up with “And don’t say ‘good’ because you look rough.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, licking the ice cream off your spoon. “Thanks, Amelia.”

“Sorry,” she grimaces. “Mom says I don’t have a filter.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I am okay, though. Don’t worry. I’m sorry I don’t come see you enough. I really should visit a lot more.”

“You’re just twenty minutes away,” she murmurs. And that breaks your heart.

“I know, kiddo, I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you move back here?” she asks. “Mom would let you stay with us until you got your own place.”

“I know she would,” you frown. “But my job is in San Diego. I’ll try to visit more, I promise. Seriously.”

“Okay.” You can tell she doesn’t really believe you, and you don’t blame her.

After talking with Amelia, you kind of need a drink. You’re kicking yourself the whole drive back to Penny’s, and then the whole walk over to The Hard Deck. The guilt will eat you alive if you let it, and you can’t. It’s all so complicated, why you couldn’t come visit as often as you should. 

You hear the music loud and clear before you’re even close, and you can’t help but grin. You missed this a lot more than you’re willing to admit.

The door is opened for you by a good looking man in uniform. And the entire Hard Deck is filled with others just like him.

Penny, you son of a bitch.

There’s a running joke between the two of you that you’re a bit of a loner while she’s the romantic. Between your dad’s death and your mom’s cancer diagnosis and eventual death, dating has never been on your mind. 

But clearly Penny has other ideas for you. Her grin when she spots you is a dead giveaway.

You approach the bar and shake your head. “I’ll get you back for this.”

“A beer? Perfect,” she winks, pouring you your favorite. “It’s on Maverick.”

“Huh?”

To your left, Maverick waves his cellphone.

“Ah,” you smirk, picking up your glass. “Someone didn’t read the rules.” No cell phones at the bar. You take a sip, whistling at the taste. “Damn. That’s good.”

“I’m glad,” Maverick deadpans.

“Come on, old man,” you grin, slapping him on the back. “Let’s see if it’s good enough for me to wipe the floor with you at darts.”

“Not a chance,” Maverick says quickly, hopping up and high tailing it to the dart board.

You get there first, though, but it’s occupied, so you have to do some good old fashioned sweet talking.

“Hey boys,” you grin. “Mind letting me and the old man in for a round?”

“Wow,” the one on the left says. “Maverick, wanna introduce us to your friend?”

Dammit. “Of course you know him,” you roll your eyes. “Fine, introduce us, Mav. I forgot you know everyone under the sun.”

“Y/N, this is Fanboy,” Mav points to the left, “and Payback,” he points to the right.

In the midst of these introductions, though, a crowd of others in uniform have joined the group, so Maverick continues.

“That’s Rooster,” the one with a mustache, “Phoenix,” the only woman, “Bob,” he looks shy, “and Hangman.”

“Pretty good call signs,” you nod. “Not bad. I’ll try to remember them, but no promises.”

“You got one?” Phoenix asks.

“Oh,” you chuckle. “No, not me. My dad was Gravedigger.”

“The Gravedigger?” Fanboy (you think) asks.

Here we go again. “Yep. Anyone wanna play darts? Loser buys me another beer,” you grin, taking a sip for effect, locking eyes with each of them.

“I’ll bite,” Hangman says, stepping forward. He hands off his pool stick to Rooster who rolls his eyes and walks away.

As does everyone else. It doesn’t take an idiot to see that the group’s Resident Playboy Charmer thinks you’ve fallen into his trap.

“Alright,” you act cool. “Let’s see what the Hangman’s got, shall we?” You grab your favorite darts, the ones with the red ends. Your dad always picked the red ones, at least. You used to go for blue before he died.

Maverick gives you a look, muttering, “Go easy.”

“Me?” you point at yourself. “Go easy?” You toss a dart at the board without looking -- and it hits the bullseye. “Never.”

Hangman stares at the board then looks at you. “Damn.”

“Good luck, Hangman,” Maverick says with a laugh. “Hope you’ve got money for beer.”

“You might should stay, Mav,” you chuckle, throwing your other darts, hitting each one with precision. “He might need your help.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hangman quips, grabbing the silver darts. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

“Mhm,” you nod, calculating up your points before removing your darts from the board. “Go ahead.”

Hangman does his best, but he ends up buying you a beer. As you expected.

He gets himself another as well, following you back to the dart board.

“You didn’t learn your lesson, huh?” you ask, sipping, watching him pick up his darts. “Want me to beat your ass again?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to let me buy you a drink, then sure,” Hangman grins. “I’ll play darts all night, sweetheart.”

“Ah,” you raise your eyebrows. “Charming. If you wanted to buy me a drink, all you had to do was ask.”

“Good to know,” he says. “What if I want to take you out to dinner? I just have to ask?”

“You’ve gotta do a lot more than that,” you deflect. He can buy you drinks, he can play darts with you, but dinner and dates are where you draw the line. He’s shit at darts, though, so to lighten the blow, you say, “Win a round of darts, then maybe we can talk about dinner.”

Hangman nearly chokes on his beer. “Sounds good to me.”

You beat him round after round. You played ruthlessly, and he noticed, but he didn’t say anything. 

You let him buy you two more beers, only drinking half of the last one. It wasn’t your plan to spend the entire night playing darts with a naval aviator, but it happened anyway.

Most everyone has gone home, including all of the other pilots. Penny is cleaning glasses at the bar and Maverick is keeping her company, glancing your way every now and then. The loud music has been replaced with slower, softer songs as 1am creeps in.

Hours of deflecting personal questions end with Hangman asking the biggest one that you know he was holding onto.

“So…your dad was the Gravedigger?”

You toss a dart clumsily and it lands just below the bullseye. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Hangman says softly.

“It was years ago,” you shrug. “But thanks. I appreciate that.” You throw one more dart, lazily, it barely lands. “I should go.”

“Alright,” Hangman says. “Need a ride? Or company on the walk?”

“No thanks,” you smile. “I’m staying with Penny. But um, thanks for the darts. And beer.”

“Sure thing,” Hangman nods. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you say, waving.

He dips his head respectfully, his southern roots coming out, as he turns and walks away.

You head up to the bar where Penny is smiling, smugly cleaning a glass. “What is that face?”

“What face?” Penny asks.

“That one,” you reply. “You ready to go?”

“Just been waiting on you,” Penny sings.

Maverick snickers to himself and hops off the stool. “Hangman’s a damn good pilot.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Just saying,” Maverick says with a shrug, and an all too knowing smile. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Sure,” you reply slowly, watching the wistful look Maverick gives Penny. Seriously, he’s like a lost puppy.

Once Maverick is out the door, Penny starts in on you.

“Hangman, huh?” Penny says. “He’s attractive.”

“He’s shit at darts,” you laugh. “But I got free beer all night, so that’s nice of him.”

“He’s smitten.”

“He’s not,” you argue. “Maverick is, though.”

Penny scoffs and grabs her purse. “The past--”

“Is the past, I know,” you finish her sentence, despite the look she gives you. “Looks pretty present if you ask me.”

Penny hums, but says nothing else.

+++

You sleep on the couch at Penny’s and wake up early enough to have breakfast with Amelia before Penny takes her to school. Penny has to run some errands for the day, so you accompany her.

Later on, the two of you return to the Hard Deck for lunch, where the beach is…occupied.

“What the hell are they doing?” you ask. You can see clearly what they’re doing, but the question still slips out. 

“Looks like football,” Penny says, cracking a smile. “Why? You wanna join them?”

“No,” you reply. “But I wanted to get in the water.”

“I’m sure you still can,” Penny grins. “And you should.”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “Where’s the bread?”

After making your sandwiches, Penny insists that you eat outside. You could say it has something to do with the fact that even Maverick is out there, shirtless, sweating and playing football, but you don’t. 

Reluctantly, you follow her outside to a picnic table, watching her wave to Maverick. Which means everyone else has probably looked your way, including Hangman. 

Penny confirms it for you. “Y’know, if you’d look, you’d see Hangman waiting for you to turn your head.”

“Exactly why I’m not looking,” you retort. “How’s Mav look?”

Penny glares at you, but she can’t hide her grin. “He looks good. You know the exact kind of good that I mean, too.”

“Oh, Christ,” you grimace, trying to get the image of them two having sex out of your head.

“That’s what you get for teasing me,” Penny chuckles. “By the way, he’s stopped looking. They’re playing again.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Fine, suit yourself.”

The curiosity nearly kills you, and you finally look. Penny was right; they’re playing again. But that doesn’t stop Hangman from finding your eyes and grinning. He doesn’t wave, but locking eyes is enough, and so is the wink he sends your way. And then he keeps playing, showing off his abs, his skills, and—

He looks the exact kind of good that Penny was talking about.

You quickly snap yourself out of it. Too bad it will never happen. 

Your mother always told you to never fall in love with a man like your father. Not because they’re bad men, in fact, they’re very good men. But the heartache that is left behind is too much to bear. The anxiety when they’re alive, wondering what day might be their last, will rot you from the inside out. It is difficult to stay sane. Staying sane is the hardest part. Next to grieving the loss. 

You went through it enough with your dad. You can’t do that to yourself again. 

“I’ve got some umbrellas in the back if you want,” Penny says out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“If you want to sit on the beach for a while,” she adds, smiling softly. “Might make you feel better.”

She reads you too well. “Yeah,” you say. “Maybe. I might take a walk.”

“Okay,” she nods, standing up with her plate. “I’ll be here if you need me. Amelia’s going to a friend’s house after school.”

“Okay,” you reply. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Penny smiles. “Take care of yourself.”

You look down at your half-eaten sandwich and contemplate tossing it. You decide to just leave it. You might want it later, or not, but you don’t have the energy to decide what to do with it right now.

You hop down the steps to the sand, walking in the opposite direction of the football game. There’s a lot of yelling, so someone must’ve done something good. Who knows. 

You should’ve known being back here would be this hard. This is exactly why you haven’t been here, and yet, you thought maybe it would be fine. Maybe enough time has passed. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

You still remember walking this exact stretch of sand with your mom while your dad flew above. You’d always wave to any planes, hoping he was one of them. Or one of his buddies. Sometimes he’d tell you that he waved back, but you don’t know if he was saying that just to make you smile.

He did that a lot.

You find a shady spot and decide to sit down. You’re far enough from the football game that their hooting and hollering is quieter.

You lean your head against the tree and shut your eyes, letting the warmth envelope you.

A few moments of peace are all you get before you hear someone jogging toward you, the sand and shells crunching beneath their feet.

Opening your eyes, you see it’s none other than Hangman.

And you’re 99% sure everyone is watching.

“Hangman,” you call out, smirking a little. “There’s no dartboard here.”

“My wallet is relieved,” he teases, smiling back. He’s still shirtless. It’s hard to focus. “What are you up to?”

“Napping,” you reply. “I thought you were playing football.”

“Ah, we’re taking a break.”

You look behind him and see the game is still very much going on. Maverick has sat down and so has Hondo, but…everyone else is still playing. Meaning, Hangman should be back there, but instead chose to come talk to you.

“Sure,” you nod. “What do you want?”

“I can’t ask a pretty girl how she’s doing?” 

“Not this pretty girl,” you chuckle, accepting his shameless flirting. You shut your eyes once more. “She’s sleeping.”

“Well, I’ll wait for the sleeping beauty to finish getting her rest, then.”

He’s too much. He’s too good. Laying the charm on thick, layer after layer. His perfectly toned abdomen and smug smirk. You can’t help but open your eyes.

“Alright,” you say. “She’s awake. What did you really want, Hangman?”

“Just to say hi. And my name’s Jake, by the way,” he says. “I realized I never told you my legal name, just my call sign.”

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” you reply, smiling a little. “You probably answer more to Hangman now, anyway.”

“Yeah, it stuck hard.”

“I used to call my dad by his call sign when I needed to get his attention,” you say, not sure why you decided to share this memory. “Nothing like a twelve year old yelling out, ‘Gravedigger!’ in a grocery store.”

Hangman laughs. “I can practically hear it myself.”

“Me too,” you murmur.

“Mind if I sit?”

You gesture to the spot next to you. “Go ahead.”

Hangman sits, bending his knees and resting his arms there. He looks out at the water before looking back at you. Underneath the tint of his sunglasses, you can just barely see his eyes scanning your entire face. “What do you think your call sign would be?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “I’m not a pilot.”

“Oh, come on, darlin’,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. “You of all people are allowed an honorary call sign.”

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“I think you’d be… the Mortician.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re real proud of yourself for that one, huh?”

“My call sign ideas are great.”

“Mm…”

“Hangman is clever!”

“I’ll give you that, it is.”

“Thank you.” He grins. “I appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply. It slips out too easily. The slight desire to let there be another time. Or anytime. Why does it feel so easy? You nod toward the football game. “Looks like they’re playing without you.”

He glances over and shrugs. “I’ll let them have it.”

“You done playing?”

He shakes his head, feigning contemplation. He raises one hand, “Football with a bunch of aviators I see all day long anyway,” he pauses, raising the other hand, “or talking to you.” He looks over, shrugging. “I’ll pick you.”

“Wow,” you raise both eyebrows. “Pretty bold considering we just met and all I did was kick your ass.”

“Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“You’re something.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What am I exactly, sweetheart?”

“Let’s see,” you start counting on your fingers. “A flirt, a player, a pilot -- that’s at least a good one.” Hangman laughs. “God awful at darts, a sweet southern boy, yet somehow, also a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Come on,” you give him a look. “It’s all over your face. It’s all over your friend’s faces. I get it, you’re the one who always gets the girl. But if you’re trying to woo me, it’s a lost cause, Jake.”

“Who says?”

“I do,” you murmur. “I went through enough having a dad in the exact same profession.”

He nods, understanding now. “Right, I see.” He pauses, looking a bit sad. “Am I still allowed to talk to you or…?”

“Yes, oh my God, it’s not that serious,” you laugh. “I just wanted to let you know it’s um… You’re fighting a losing battle and I don’t wanna lead you on. I’d rather be upfront about it now.”

“I appreciate that,” he says. “I guess I should get back to the game, huh?”

“Before Mav comes looking for you, yeah,” you reply. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I will, sweetheart,” he says, standing to his feet. He tilts his sunglasses down to wink at you. “I always do.”

You roll your eyes as he jogs off, waving his arms so someone will toss the ball down to him. Surprisingly, he catches it, and takes off, almost getting tackled before he reaches the end.

You take a few more minutes to yourself before beginning the trek back to The Hard Deck.

Penny is waiting inside in the AC, cleaning glasses and preparing for tonight. With all these aviators back at Top Gun, it’s bound to be another busy night.

“Hey lover,” she says, grinning. “I saw Hangman hunt you down.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. He is persistent, that’s for damn sure. “He did.”

“So… How’d that go?”

“I let him down easy.”

“Mm,” Penny nods, expecting that. “How’d he take it?”

“He’s fine,” you say, chuckling. “I’m not banning him from speaking to me. I just let him know it’s never gonna happen, so he doesn’t waste his time.”

“Huh.”

“What?” you huff.

“Nothing,” Penny shrugs, putting a glass away. “I just remember telling Maverick the same thing, and yet here he is.”

“Well, that’s you and Maverick,” you say, ready to be done with discussing this. She’s making it a much bigger thing that it needs to be -- or is. “Do you need help getting ready to open?”

Penny accepts the subject change and backs down. “There’s some extra glasses in the back, can you grab them? And check for any chips in them, please.”

“Sure thing,” you nod, ready for some mindless work.

Through the window you can see the football game is still going strong. Maverick has joined again, and narrowly misses being tackled by Phoenix. 

Hangman looks your way and locks eyes with you, but you quickly look away.

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘃𝗲

𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || Steve’s life takes a quantum leap when he finds you unconscious on the beach.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || ANGST (with a happy ending)

This is the second part of six feet under.

I know I broke your hearts, so here comes the second part to mend it! I hope you love this!

“You are my mission.”

Steve felt as if the walls of his heart were pricked by a thousand needles. It ached too much for him to bear. Unable to look in your eyes, he cried in his own palms.

The Asset wasn’t built to show emotions, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at the picture in front of you; your mission had just dropped down on his knees and was pathetically sobbing.

Why wasn’t your target fighting. You were informed that he was great at hand combat but not really outstanding with guns. So why wasn’t he attacking you as expected. Why was he showing you his back in surrender?

You were told what to do if the mission fought. But you weren’t informed what to do if he just... surrendered.

Walking close to your mission where he was crouching down, you stared at him for a moment. You weren’t wearing your combat gear, and neither was he. You both were instead dressed in far from modest clothes.

You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to harm him in any way. With the way he was trusting you, you could’ve killed him within seconds. But yet your heart somehow ached at his situation.

When he didn’t even look up, you nudged his thigh with your left foot. When your mission finally looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and he was incessantly crying.

“Fight me.” You said as he just stared at you. Your blank gaze terrified Steve more than any alien or villain ever had. You didn’t know why, but you wanted him to fight you. You weren’t able to attack him if he just gave up.

Steve blinked his eyes as he took in your words. Why weren’t you killing him? He had surrendered to you and yet you were just looking back at him instead of fighting. Why did you want him to fight you?

“No.” Steve had never thought love would be his weakness. Or maybe he had never truly realised it. Steve loved Bucky as a friend and had rained hell when his friend was in danger.

And here he had signed off his soul in your name. He would literally bring you the moon and stars if you asked to. And he would bare his throat for you to slash through. But he couldn’t possibly ever hurt you.

“I said fight me.” Steve Rogers, your mission was supposed to fight you. Not just sit down and take whatever you gave him. You didn’t know why you were angry at his lack of self preservation.

What happened next was within the blink of an eye. Steve’s arm shot up and curled around your wrist. And with a quick pull, he pulled your entire body down.

His agility took you by shock and before you could react, you were down on the ground pressed against the floor with him straddling you. Taking both of your hands in his, he pinned them above your head, making sure you were immobile.

You were royally fucked. Your handlers wouldn’t take it lightly if you messed up. And that was if you reached them in one piece. Chances were you were gonna die here, right under Steve Rogers.

You opened your mouth to bite and hiss and Steve took the opportunity and dove right in. You stilled with surprise when you felt the captain’s plump lips right against yours. This man was super insane.

You mercilessly but his lower lip and ended up drawing blood. But as soon as he started licking in your mouth with his tongue, you melted right on the spot.

The warmth of his mouth slowly brought back the warmth of your memories. Steve felt you go pliant under him for some moments before you started fiercely kissing him back.

You entwined your fingers with his and gently pressed your tongue against the bite mark on his lips. You didn’t notice the tears that slipped through your eyes and how they mixed with Steve’s own tears falling against your face.

“Steve.” You called his name just like you always did. With love and belonging. He opened his eyes to see you staring right back at him with your lively eyes.

Steve had never been happier before. Pressing his forehead against yours, he just breathed you in for a moment. “Steve.” Your hand was now caressing his face.

Your eyes peering into each other were enough to convey the million thoughts you had and the thousand things you wanted to say. Pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, he got up and you followed him.

You both sat on the floor with your legs crossed, you kept some space between you two. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Steve repeated as he broke down once again.

You hushed him and held him in your arms until he calmed down. “I shouldn’t have done that, but… but I wanted to know.” Steve couldn’t ever forget how your face had morphed into that of betrayal as he recited the words.

“But I want to know one thing. Do you love me? Or… or is it some tactic of hydra to ruin me?” You wanted to slap Steve for asking this stupid ass question. Of course you loved him!

But then you realised where he was emotionally. If you were in his position then maybe even you would fear the same. “It’s real Steve. It’s definitely real.”

You framed his face with your hands and caressed your thumb over his cheeks. “Steve, I love you. And by ‘I’, I mean Y/N and Soldat. My soul belongs to you, no matter it’s name.

How can you doubt our love when it was the only thing that brought me back?” It was true, you wouldn’t have remembered anything if Steve hadn’t kissed you.

You could see the colour fill in Steve’s face. He pulled you in a bear hug and held you tight. “I love you. I love you.” Steve chanted in your ear just like before.

Once you were both calm enough to think straight, you decided to go out on the beach. You sat in the sand with your head tilted on Steve’s shoulder as the sea breeze kissed your wet cheeks.

“I barely remember who I was before all this Steve. I can only remember glimpses of the shield and the avengers. I’m no more the Y/N you once saw.”

Steve was silent as he listened to each and every word of yours. He wanted to say so many things back, but he knew he had to listen to you first.

“But I remember how they took me Steve. It was probably my third official shield mission and we had all thought that base was not active. But when we broke in, the operatives were waiting just for us.

It was trap and we fell willingly into it. The others managed to escape, but… but I couldn’t. And they took me Steve. I… I waited for you people.

I still remember shivering in that cold cell all alone, praying for you to find me. But you never came. And with time I just kept forgetting until I couldn’t remember anymore.” Your voice cracked yet you kept going.

“Even after you retired, you still were hydra’s number one target. It’s almost personal now. It took them some time, but they finally traced you and they knew you were alone.

I was supposed to use a boat as long as I was out of visibility and then swim till the shore so that you wouldn’t notice me. But I miscalculated the current and the rocks on the shore.

After I abandoned my boat, I jumped into the water and got caught in the water currents. It was a terrifying experience, just spinning wildly underwater as the water took you.

But I was oddly at peace as I thought finally I would be free. But then I hit my head on the rocks and got washed up. And I woke up remembering absolutely nothing in your warm bed.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve couldn’t ever forgive himself for all that had happened to you. He was sure shield must have tried their best, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. I’m sure they must’ve tried.” You both sat quietly staring at the calm ocean which reflected the night sky.

“Do you still love me?” You asked with a dejected sigh. “I’ll always love you.” Steve replied pulling you closer. “Even after knowing who I am and what I was here for?”

“You could’ve easily completed your mission. I know you are capable enough of doing that. But, you did not. You couldn’t harm me even when I openly surrendered to you.

So yes, I still very much love you and I’ll stay by your side forever.” The last word pierced through your heart like a knife. You couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Steve, I… I have to go.” Steve looked at you quizzically. “Where?” You gulped audibly before meekly replying, “Hydra.” You could feel his body tense.

“You aren’t going back there, no matter what.” You wanted to believe Steve’s words, but you knew that couldn’t happen.

“I’ve tried to run away. So many times. But they always find me. They’ll find me this time too. And if they find me, they’ll find you too and I can’t let that happen.

I won’t be able to live if something happened to you. I’ll never forgive myself. And that’s why I need to go.” If this sacrifice was going to keep Steve safe, then so be it.

“Nothing will happen to me. And if they come, we will fight them. Together. And nothing and no one can stop us if we are with each other. Stay with me, please!”

You kissed his cheek to stop him from pleading anymore. You couldn’t tolerate the man you loved begging you. “I’ll… I’ll stay with you. I promise.”

Steve hugged you so tight, you wondered if you broke some bones. But being in the arms of the man who loved you, felt better than heaven itself. It was a different kind of a feeling, one that no words could ever describe.

“Steve, what do you think about Paris? I’ve always wanted to go there.” You asked as you both sat silently on the beach, basking in each other’s presence.

“I’ve always thought about visiting Louvre too. But I never really got the chance.” Even as a sickly kid, Steve wanted to get mesmerised by the art in the famous museum.

“And what about Sydney? Or Amsterdam? Or Barcelona?” Your eyes lit up like an excited kid. “What about all of them?” Steve jested.

Steve wanted to travel the world too. In a sense he already had, but it was always for some mission and never for the sake of relaxation. “Yeah, we could do that!” You exclaimed as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you.

It would be a new beginning for both of you. A new life away from your tainted past. A fresh canvas to paint with the colours of your own choice. A much needed restart that both you and Steve needed.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s pack our bags!”

[mikrowrites]

cottages of constellations

c!wilbur x f!reader

warnings: angst, fluffy flashbacks, arson, character death

summary: there’s a place only known by two people, full of sweet memories and domesticity. but the world isn’t sweet anymore, and sometimes violence is the only universal language. rather, Sophie visits the cottage she and Wilbur shared before the war, and is met by an unlikely guest.

might make a part two w doomsday and revivebur, we shall see...

Y/n sighed, sitting upon her horse as the wind blew across the grassy field. Smoke still rose behind her from fires still not put out long after the destruction, the girl shaking her head to try and absolve the memory from her head.

She gripped the reins, goading the horse to move, Y/n riding across the field. She knew where she needed to go, she knew the coordinates by heart.

No one else knew about the cottage, just two people, and one of them... well, he’s dead. There’s no sugar coating that. It resided far from the server, a little place just for the two of them.

After a few hours, with the sun rising behind, Y/n rode into the woods. She kept going forwards until she reached the river, stopping the horse. She looked forwards, pursing her lips.

The cottage.

“This is the perfect place!”

Wilbur jumped off his horse, pointing to the small clearing along the river.

“You think so?” Y/n asked, walking up beside him to stare at the landscape.

“Of course.” He emphasized. “But of course perfect is wherever you are.”

Y/n scoffed. “Jesus, that was cheesy.”

Wilbur laughed, running down the landscape towards the small clearing. He turned back, smiling.

“Hey, are you coming?”

Y/n tied her horse to a lead, patting it in thanks before moving forwards, approaching the cottage.

It looked frozen in time, from when Y/n had left it to help fight for L’manburg. The flowers still looked kept, the farm out back unharvested. She smiled as she approached the cottage, taking in the blooming flowers.

“It’s a surprise, so no looking.”

“Okay, okay!” Y/n allowed Wilbur to lead her over outside the cottage.

Wilbur stopped. “Okay, you can look.”

Y/n opened her eyes, walking over to peer at several brightly colored flowers planted around the cottage’s exterior. The hues painted the landscape, causing her jaw to drop at the beauty.

“Do you like it?” Wilbur nervously asked, Y/n whipping her head around to cast him a bright smile.

“I love it, Wilbur.”

Y/n pushed the oak door open, the hinges creaking. She let out a few coughs as dust invaded her senses, stepping into the cottage. the lanterns were flickered out, pots of plants and flowers left withered and dead.

She walked past a set of bookshelves, running her fingers across the spines of the books.

Wilbur and Y/n sat together, books in each of their hands as they read and relish each other’s company. A kettle of water was being heated in the kitchen, the sun filtering through the windows.

Y/n flipped a page, not noticing as Wilbur’s eyes lifted from the pages to her face, studying every bit of her. A soft smile crossed his face as he studied her soft green eyes, the bridge of her nose, her eyebrows that were furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly her eyes flicked up, Wilbur’s face going red. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing! Nothing, no, not at all, no, uh—“Wilbur smiled sheepishly. “You’re... you’re just so ethereal right now.”

It was Y/n’s turn to blush as she tried to hide her cheeks behind the book, the boy laughing.

Y/n grasped a rung of the ladder in her hand, sighing for a moment before pulling herself up. Each step up the ladder her heart quickened, her lips trembled.

She climbed into the loft area, her breath catching in her throat.

The bed was still perfectly made from the day she left it. The sunset reflected perfectly into the room from the large glass window, casting the room into a beautiful orange hue. Y/n turned and saw the chest in the corner, the sight bringing her to her knees.

The letters.

“I’ll write you so many letters, Y/n/n!” Wilbur insisted, grasping her hands. “Every day! Until you can join me, we can send those letters.”

Y/n nodded eagerly. “I’ll miss you, Wil.”

The boy pulled her into an embrace, the girl burying her face in his shirt. He smiled, tracing circles into her back comfortingly. “A letter a day for you, until we see each other again.”

And a letter a day she received.

The letters came daily, some recalling the events of the day, some poems, some love letters. Y/n read each letter enthusiastically, hearing of Wilbur’s adventures and the people he encountered. The nation he was creating, L’manburg.

Then, after receiving a letter detailing the start of the war for L’manburg, Y/n packed her bag, took her horse, and left for the server. She fought alongside Wilbur and the others, resisting for independence.

Y/n’s hands trembled as she sifted through and read each letter, the open pieces of parchment cast about the floor in front of her. Her heart ached as she read the words of a man whom she had lost so long ago, so long before his death. The Wilbur that had wrote Y/n songs and poems declaring his love and admiration had died in that war, leaving a man she could hardly recognize.

The orange glow of the sun was fading from the room, darkening the inside of the cottage. Y/n felt tears gather in her eyes as she finished reading the last letter, two teardrops pattering on the wood floor. The letter fluttered from her hand onto the ground with the rest, the girl wiping the tears from her cheeks.

She stood, looking out the window and noting how night was fast approaching. Y/n frowned, reaching into her pocket to produce a box of matches, walking over the the bedside lantern to light it. She struck the match, the flame igniting, lighting the lantern.

Y/n went to shake out the match before freezing, her eyes fixed upon the yellow light of the small flickering flame.

The fire crackled softly as melodic guitar chords filled the night with sweet music. The river rushed by near them, as well as the sounds of the rustling leaves in the wind, creating an orchestra of soothing sounds.

Y/n smiled, closing her eyes and resting her head against Wilbur’s shoulder as he strummed the guitar. They sat on a blanket in front of the fire, one of Wilbur’s coats draped over the girl’s shoulders.

Peace. Both felt total and complete peace.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” Y/n mused, staring up at the stars.

“Maybe, someday, we will. We’ll just lay and chart constellations.” Wilbur responded confidently.

Y/n smiled, closing her eyes and letting the sounds of Wilbur’s guitar and the campfire lull her to sleep.

“I’d like that.”

The lit match felt heavy between Y/n’s fingers, the girl sitting amongst the countless letters once more. Night had fallen, the stars dotting the sky. Y/n stared out at the stars, catching sight of constellations and clouds and the moon.

She reached for a letter, parting her lips.

“You lied to me.”

Y/n stood once more and let the letter meet the match, the paper going up in flames. She dropped it, the flaming parchment falling to the floor and igniting the rest of the precious letters that could have redeemed Wilbur.

She stepped back, watching as flames set to the wood of the room, the bed, the carpet. The girl spared the room one last look before climbing down the ladder, throwing the match onto the bookshelf, and walking out of the cottage. Y/n walked backwards, watching as surely the cottage was caught in a fury of flames.

Y/n finally let herself breathe, exhaling deeply as if a weight had lifted off her chest. She watched her old home burn, finally feeling a sense of finality.

“You sure did a number on that house.”

Her eyes widened, spinning and quickly unsheathing her sword and raising it to the person behind her’s neck. Y/n’s eyes hardened, glaring at the unwanted visitor.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” She spat.

She could almost see Dream’s smile from under his mask. “Wilbur sure did love his secrets. Was will to impart a few to me in exchange for some TNT. I figured you might be here.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “He... he told you about the cottage?”

“Y/n... he told me everything.” Dream responded. She slowly lowered her sword, stepping away from Dream. “I understand everything now. Your blind devotion to him, the loyalty. The server that drove him to betray that trust.”

“You did.” Y/n insisted. “You drove him to his death. You caused all of this.”

“Wilbur made his own decisions.” Dream shrugged. “And as I can see now, so can you.”

Y/n turned to look back at the fire. “So, you’re here to kill me then, yeah?”

“No, I’m not.” Dream quickly replied, Y/n looking back at him. “I’m here to make you an offer.”

“An offer? What the hell does that mean?” She scoffed.

Dream approached her. “They’re rebuilding L’Manburg as we speak. They never learn, they never understand. They call Wilbur insane, yet maybe he was the most sane of us all. He saw and understood the truth, and that scared them. So here’s what I offer you, Y/n. Help me take them down. I’ll pay you a good price.”

“What could you pay me that’s worth my time?” Y/n raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms.

Dream reached into his pocket, throwing a few netherite ingots and several diamonds onto the grass in front of her. Y/n’s eyes widened slightly, looking up at him. “There’s so much more where this came from. And better yet,” Dream tilted his head slightly as he held a bundle of fabric to her, the brown shades and patches so very familiar; Wilbur’s coat. “you can finish what Wilbur started.”

Y/n stared wordlessly at the piece of clothing held out in front of her, before closing her eyes.

“Wil?” Y/n wandered over to where Wilbur sat in the darkness of Pogtopia, the girl kneeling down next to him.

“Hey, Y/n/n.” He smiled tightly, sitting forwards. “What’s up?”

The girl smiled sadly. “I don’t know. I just... everything’s all wrong. I don’t know how to fix it.”

The man pondered her words, considering how the events of the next few days would play out. The heartache and betrayal.

It was no secret Wilbur and Y/n had been drifting apart. The lingering trauma of her torturous life in Manburg and the loss of her first two canon lives, him grieving the loss of his country. They were both hanging on by a thread, and comfort was hard to be sought between the two of them.

Wilbur knew he would die soon. He knew that the end of his story was approaching, but maybe, he could have one more sweet memory with the girl he had fallen helplessly in love with.

“Let’s go look at the stars.”

Y/n perked up, her featured contorted in surprise. “What?”

“Like we used to, by the river. Let’s go stargazing.” Wilbur stood, holding out his hand to help her up. The girl took it, the boy pulling her up to standing and intertwining his fingers in hers, pulling her through the ravine.

They trudged up the stone stairs and through the hidden doorway, out into the open air. Wilbur led Y/n into a clearing, where he shrugged off his jacket, laying it on the ground. He beckoned her over, the two laying on top of the fabric and staring up.

The sky was exceptionally clear that night, the stars glittering beautifully against a dark sky. Wilbur turned to watch Y/n stare up at the stars, noting her lips twitch softly as she began to list constellations under her breath. He took her hand once more, looking up at the stars.

That was the last moment they shared together before he died.

Y/n opened her eyes, looking up at Dream, who held out a hand to shake. She sheathed her sword, nodding slightly before taking the jacket and reaching her hand out, clasping his palm in a firm shake.

The man chuckled from behind his mask, stepping backwards. “You’ll be hearing from me. Goodbye, Y/n.” With that he left, the girl left standing alone on the riverbank. She stood still for a beat before bending down, moving the items to her inventory, shrugging on the trench coat, and turning back to the cottage.

It was nearly burnt to the ground at this rate, the flowers outside catching. Y/n swore for a moment she could see a glimpse of a tall boy in a yellow sweater in the flames, but brushed it off. She made the trek over to her horse, climbing onto the saddle.

She cast one more look at the remains of the cottage before cracking the reins, riding away.

It was time to finish what Wilbur had started.

a/n: i wrote this before the philza lore where wilbur fabricated history in the letters, so just assume that wilbur was truthful in these letters and y/n arrived directly before the duel and the betrayal.

[heeberry]

She’s Not With You

(Loona) Ha Sooyoung x Gender Neutral!Reader

Requested: yes!

Berry: hey! i luv ur blog<3 could you please do yves x reader where she gets super jealous/possessive bc reader has been spending more time w lip?

A laugh suddenly escaped your lips, your eyes closed as you couldn’t control yourself at the very moment. Jungeun soon cracked a laugh with you, clapping her hands when the video the two of you watched together had ended.

You leaned onto her, wiping the tears from your eyes when you calmed down and spoke, “we should watch another one” making Jungeun quickly nod, jumping to the next video.

It was currently Saturday in the afternoon, you had visited Loona’s dorm like you always did since you were a well known visitor. As soon as Jungeun opened the door for you, you couldn’t help but to jump into her arms, engulfing her into a big hug after not seeing her for days. She had been busy with a packed schedule, so when today was her day off you were quick to see her.

Of course you were there for your girlfriend, Sooyoung. But you couldn’t find said girl anywhere. Before sitting with Jungeun you greeted everyone as you looked corner after corner and seeing no sign of your girlfriend, you took this as a assumption that she probably had to be called in for schedule, forgetting to text you about it.

Sending her a quick message, you jumped onto the couch with Jungeun, which led you to this very moment.

Jungeun suddenly laughed out loud, making you look at her with a smile that was about to burst into pure laughter with her. You didn’t how you ended up here, going into a deep hole of videos that were reccomanded for you on youtube. Being too engrossed with what you were watching, you hadn’t noticed someone step into the dorm with a frown.

It was none other than Ha Sooyoung. Coming back from a hectic schedule all she wanted was to rest with you, leaning by your side and falling asleep. Though, when she opened the door with the spare keys she had she frowned at the first thing she saw.

You leaned onto Jungeun, the two of you breaking into laugher every second like you’ve inhaled some laughing gas. Sooyoung couldn’t help but to feel her heart drop, her body filled with different emotions that she couldn’t describe. She knew that the two of you had a close bond, never bothered whenever you spent time with her. You are your own person, so why would she stop you from being with your friends?

It got to a point where Sooyoung felt a burn in her heart. Everytime you came over you immediately went to Jungeuns side, making her slowly turn jealous. The way you hung out with her made Sooyoung think that you’ve developed some sort of a crush on your best friend. Thoughts soon spinned in her head, making a frustrated sigh leave her lips before walking toward the two of you.

Sensing a presence next to you, you smiled “Sooyoung!” You happily cheered, engulfing her into a hug. Jungeun greeted the girl causally but her eyes were glued to the screen.

You pulled away after not feeling her arms wrap around you. “Are you okay?” You whispered, making Sooyoung only scoff in response. Raising an eyebrow at her actions you turned back to the screen, thinking about what had happened to your girlfriend. Maybe she had a hard day? You thought.

Jungeun soon wrapped her arm around you, trying to maintain her laughes as she squeezed you everytime she was about to. You didn’t mind, knowing how much the two of you had your stomach twist whenever you chuckled too much for your own liking.

As much as you didn’t mind there was someone who definitely did. Sooyoung was surprised, she was only right next to you how come you acted like she wasn’t? And the fact that you accepted Jungeun’s affection, leaning onto her slowly made her frustrated once again.

It hurt her more than it frustrated her. That’s why she didn’t talk as her body already seemed to do it for her. Sooyoung unwrapped Jungeun’s arm around you with force, making her turn with confusion. You slowly got off of her, concern written on your face. Sooyoung looked at you while also giving Jungeun the side eye.

Jungeun soon sighed at the older, knowing what was coming next, she quickly got up and left. Plus she didn’t wanna get involved with whatever argument that’s about surface but she knew her name was gonna get thrown in there anyway. Mind as well not witness the moment, she thought.

“Do you like her or something?” Sooyoung asked with a harsh tone, making you widen your eyes.

Never have you seen your girlfriend this mad over something, it almost looked like smoke was coming out of her ears. Surely it made you scared, freezing up at her question because of the harsh tone she said it by.

Instead of talking you shook your head in response, of course in denial. “Then how come you never hang out with me anymore y/n?” Sooyoung frowned, “I don’t mind that you spend time with lip but you’ve been doing it too much that you barely noticed your own girlfriend, who may I add, LIVES in this dorm too”

“You aren’t with her, your with me. But it doesn’t seem like it when the two of you cling onto each other like a newly married couple!”

Speechless, oh how your lips were sealed like glue. She was right and you didn’t notice until now. How oblivious could I be? You thought, now realizing how much time you’ve spent with Jungeun.

You spent so much time with your best friend that you felt like you neglected your girlfriend for the past few days.

You watched as Sooyoung rambled on and on, fustrated but you heard the sense of hurt in her voice. It made you frown, stopping her rambling by giving her nothing but a hug.

It wasn’t the best thing to do, since she was angry with you. But it sure did do something.

Inhaling her scent made you feel less overwhelmed by the words she kept hitting you with. Sooyoung shut her mouth when she suddenly felt warmth engulf her, immediately wrapped her arms around you.

It was silent, the sound of the two of you breathing was the only thing you heard. You saw her members peak their head out the door, hearing the commotion go as quiet as a library.

Jungeun mouthed if the two of you made up, making you slightly shake your head, you had to make it up to her.

You felt hot tears stain your sweater, making you let go of her in a instant. “Sooyoung” you whispered, “Listen I’m sorry”

Wiping the tears away from her cheek with your hands you gave her a warm smile. “I didn’t mean to hang out with lippie more, I thought you were always busy whenever I came over. Seeing how focused you were whenever you were using your phone and such, I thought you’d want some space since you had lots of schedules”

“I hadn’t realized you felt this way, and I’m sorry. I don’t like Jungeun at all by the way, I’m sorry it came out that way” you lowly mumbled, but it was audible for the girl to hear.

You grabbed her hand and led her to her room, where the two of you easily fell on the bed. Her arms wrapped around you, stained tears on her cheek and the imaginary smoke that came out her ears disappearing into thin air.

“It’s okay, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier either.” She deeply sighed, “it’s just, I miss being able to hang with you and seeing you and Jungeun-”

You shushed her by placing a finger on her lips, shaking your head. “It’s all in the past, I’m with you now and always will be”

Sooyoung smiled at you, your heart just about to jump out your chest. She giggled at the light tint of blush that covered your cheeks, pulling you closer to kiss you.

You were glad, resolving the problem quickly and being able to calm her down. You didn’t blame her, realizing your actions and putting yourself into her shoes. Of course you’d feel neglected if Sooyoung hung out with her best friend more than you.

The two of you pulled away moments later, you rested your head on her chest. “I love you” you suddenly said, “I love you so much.”

“And I’ll never make you feel like your being neglected again, never ever again”

[kitacco]

lucky.

pairing: gn!reader, itadori yuuji.

genre: fluff.

summary: in which an extroverted athlete and an introverted photographer find love.

cw: none.

wordcount: 1.6k!

! saw a tiktok and just had to write this.... !

it was hard to explain, really.

you never questioned the people that’d watch you with curious or confused looks, actually, it was something you’d started to find fun about the whole situation.

yuuji really wasn’t the kind of guy someone like you would date, at least that was the rule.

yuuji was outgoing, funny and friendly. as for you, yuuji believed you were funny too - yet not that much outgoing or friendly. he said that was one thing he liked about you, of the many other things.

you watch your boyfriend run across the field at a speed you’d never seen before, despite attending all his practices after classes. your heart bursts with love and admiration for him, as the camera you’re holding in your hands clicks, capturing the moment. you don’t have time to check if it’s good - either way, you really don’t need to, your boyfriend could always look at pictures, although he’d often say only you could take such good pictures. you’d get red and try to leave, and like always, yuuji would wrap his arms around your waist and spin you around despite the heavy object in your hands. it became a habit the two of you shared after every race.

the questions were common, and surprisingly continuous, even though you’re sure half his track team knew, and probably was present that night, such an eventful night. you’re reminded of it as you sit waiting for your boyfriend to come back with both your orders. like every other day after a victory, his team would go to this milkshake place a few streets away from school, often coming with their partners too, that was probably why there was always someone new asking how the two of you ended up together.

it’s hard to explain - it really is.

like any other time, you were at one of yuuji’s races to take a few pictures for the school’s newspaper. you’d often photograph the football and basketball team, so it was your first time coming to one of these. upon arriving, you realized why your classmates didn’t like coming; it was awfully hard to take a single good picture to use.

you were starting to feel a little frustrated as every picture you took would come out blurry. it was getting dark and surprisingly cold despite it being spring. you didn’t bring a jacket and no picture was good enough to leave early and get done with your task. that until yuuji’s turn.

the moment the pink haired boy rushed off, you took a quick picture. cold enough and guessing the position you were in was probably the reason why all pictures were turning bad, you turned off your camera and walked back to the crowd behind the grids. tired enough, you decided to give up and simply head back home, deciding you’d try to get a better picture next time.

the next morning, you had already sent the pictures taken, and shortly the newspaper was published. you were walking back to your classroom after a quick restroom visit, when you were suddenly corralled by a quite loud guy.

“hey! you took the picture, right?”

you frown at the sudden confirmation, feeling nervous as you remembered the familiar pink hair. your face fell, “y-yeah.”

you didn’t really know what exactly were you expecting, still, it never was a strong hold of your hand between his as a smile appeared on his face, eyes shining brighter, as if it was possible, “it was amazing! it’s been a while since the newspaper has taken a good picture of the team, i had to find you myself and thank you!”

you’re confused, only nodding whilst he left as he arrived. you decided to check it for yourself, surprised by the picture you had simply sent the night before, too tired to even check if it was okay. you were glad - the picture was surely a good one.

you couldn’t help but notice, too. the pink haired, that you guessed was itadori yuuji, had a concentrated look on his eyes as he appeared to be flying over the ground. the background was a little blurry, yet his figure seemed to stand out as if you had edited the picture to look like that - which you hadn’t.

it was no surprise a few other people from his team seemed to come by and thank you for the picture, which only led to you being assigned to the track and field team only.

you couldn’t really complain - it was fun. taking pictures for them was hard, but at the same time, it was surely a challenge you took excitedly. after every race you seemed to outdo yourself more and more, to the point that not only the team, but also their couch would often congratulate and thank you for the pictures. 

but that also made you spend more time with them, and, surprisingly, more time with itadori yuuji.

you were sure your feelings were the same as any other person that had ever had the pleasure of meeting itadori. he was so bright, so fun and so extraordinary, it was hard to ignore it, your heart constantly beating faster whenever he would even look your way. that simple it was for him to have an effect on you.

but you knew it was like that with many other people, and as fast as you fell for him, you understood your position - someone like him would never notice you.

you were two ends of a coin. he was bright and special, as you were reserved and ordinary (at least in your opinion).

not only that, but whenever you’d think he was being too nice, you’d realize he was like that with everybody else. regardless, yuuji continued to make his way into your heart, and you decided to leave this as any other silly crush you’d ever have in someone.

what you didn’t know, was that yuuji’s hands would also get a little sweaty every time he’d approach you. it was crazy, though. he couldn’t explain, at that moment, unaware of the feelings bubbling up his heart. 

all it took was another milkshake, the same one he placed in front of you as you were once again telling the story of how the two of you ended up together.

yuuji smiles, excited to hear the story again. the both of you told it in a completely different way, at the moment, unaware of each other’s emotions.

yuuji had just finished another race, which had lead to the victory of his team, again. you took a picture of the team like always, smiley faces and tight arms around their shoulders as they posed for the picture that’d be in the newspaper announcing another victory of the team. one of the members of the team suggested all of you to hang out at the milkshake place, and the rest agreed, grabbing their bags and walking to the small restaurant. you weren’t really sure, it was cold, you had to email the picture as quick as you could, and, for some reason, you were feeling a little out of place. most of yuuji’s teammates had their partners, kissing them lovingly and whispering compliments as everyone started walking in a group. deciding to try and let them walk a little further so they wouldn’t notice you leaving, you stayed behind, carefully placing your camera inside your bag.

you hadn’t noticed yuuji standing a few steps away from you, only doing so when a soft and a little heavy cloth fell over your shoulders.

“you must be cold,” yuuji said in a soft voice, one you surely had never heard before.

you smiled, thanking him quietly as you gripped the hoodie over your shoulders, “it’s fine, i’m heading home so—”

“i’ll walk you to the station, then,” yuuji is quick to say. “the least i can do.”

you don’t have the guts to decline his offer, neither you want to. despite knowing yuuji would never see you that way, you couldn’t help but shake at his proximity as he insisted you kept the hoodie at least until you reached your train. yuuji didn’t say much, but it wasn’t awkward either. for the first time, you felt comfortable in silence with a stranger - even though you couldn’t bring yourself to call him a stranger. he wasn’t your friend either, or that you thought.

“it’s pretty cold tonight, isn’t it?” yuuji suddenly speaks up.

you nod, giving him a shy smile.

“you must be cold,” you say, fingers still gripping onto the cloth.

yuuji smiles, shaking his head, “surprisingly i’m not.”

you laugh with him, and the silence falls again.

yuuji is still close to you, his shoulder touching yours as the both of you reach the station.

“so?” someone says, too impatient as the both of you give each other smiles. “who confessed first then?”

“totally him,” you mutter, taking a sip of his milkshake.

“i mean, you were giving me eyes all along, so we could say it was you,” yuuji says, leaning onto your side.

you look back at him, and even though you know a lot of people are watching, you place a quick kiss on his cheek, like those he loves to have before a race.

you remember that night like it was yesterday, when, as you were stepping inside the train, yuuji pulled on your hand and you jumped out of the train, falling onto his arms.

“listen, this might sound crazy,” he says as if he’d just ran for hours, out of breath as he stares into your eyes. “but i think i really, really like you.”

you laugh as you remember, yuuji’s face suddenly turning red and the fact the two of you had to wait another thirty minutes for your train to come again.

but you wouldn’t change it for anything, you think to yourself as your boyfriend continues to chat with his friends, and you think:

you’re pretty lucky to have him.

[persephone-plasmids]

The Funhouse

Deacon and Sole Fanfic

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The Funhouse

“I take it finding Danse and MacCready is now our second priority?” Deacon asked as he followed Sole from the junkyard outside of Nuka-World to the Kiddie Kingdom.”Because you know they’re investigating Dry Rock Gulch, right?”

“They’re big boys, they can take care of themselves,” Sole answered dismissively with a wave of her hand. “And I already told you, we’ve got more important things to do.”

“More important than finding the kidnapped Synth?” Deacon asked, a grin on his lips as he trotted to catch up with Sole.

Their hands brushed accidentally as he walked beside her and he quickly pulled away. Deacon was finally starting to learn to keep his physical distance from Sole. He needed as many safeguards from whatever spell she had over him as he could get. The sunglasses were a start, but avoiding their regular casual contact was starting to be a necessity.

Trying to ignore his attraction to Sole had become a losing battle, so Deacon was playing the defense game.

“Obviously nothing is more important than finding the kidnapped Synth,” Sole said. “But there’s no reason they might not be in the funhouse at Kiddie Kingdom.”

Deacon gave Sole a skeptical raise of his eyebrows. “I mean, while we’re at it, the kidnapped synth could very well be on the roller coaster in the Galactic Zone. We should probably check there too.”

“We probably should.” Sole nudged Deacon with her shoulder, giving him a cheeky smile.

He laughed nervously but took a tiny step away from Sole to discourage any further touching. It wasn’t because he didn’t want Sole to touch him. It was because he did.

“Listen, Charmer, I’m all for having a good time, but isn’t this place… kinda creepy?” Deacon asked, glancing at the derelict theme park over the top of his sunglasses.

Sole stopped in her tracks and turned on her heel to face him, the apples of her cheeks round with glee. “Are you scared?” She dragged out the last word in a taunting way, poking her finger into his chest as she said it.

Again with the touching.

He wished he didn’t love it so much.

“Obviously I’m a big strong man. I’m not scared of anything,” Deacon began. “I’m just worried about your poor feminine sensibilities. I’m not sure they can handle this place. Women’s brains just aren’t wired for this sort of thing.”

Sole narrowed her eyes at Deacon, sizing him up. She knew he was joking, but she still took the opportunity to take a step closer to him, her voice low. “I think we both know who the brave one is in this partnership.”

She was much too close to him. He swallowed hard and tried to play off his discomfort with a laugh, but it sounded wrong.

“If you’re so brave then why don’t you go into the funhouse first?” It was a lame dare, but he needed any excuse to get her away from him. All he wanted to do was crush his lips to hers.

“”Watch and learn, stealth boy,” she said, using her favorite nickname for him.

Sole walked confidently through the funhouse doors, swaying her hips as she did so. Deacon hated the way his eyes automatically roamed over her curves when she wasn’t looking, but he couldn’t deny that the view was impeccable.

“Are you coming?” Sole asked over her shoulder.

Deacon gave himself a little shake and ran into the funhouse after her. “You know, if you wanted to die, there are much quicker and less terrifying ways to do that.”

“But where would be the fun in that?” Sole asked, taking Deacon’s hand in hers and leading him through the first set of doors they found.

The two were immediately set off balance by a black and white room with a spinning floor. Sole collapsed into Deacon’s arms, knocking him against the wall as he held her up with his arms around her waist.

His plan to limit their physical contact wasn’t off to a great start.

Carnival music played in the spinning room and when Sole regained her footing, she didn’t pull away from Deacon like he thought she would. Instead, she leaned her weight against him, pushing his back more firmly against the wall.

“Thanks for the assist,” she said, wrinkling her nose up at him in a smile.

Why did she have to be so adorable?

“Any time, Charmer,” he answered, his voice as unsteady as he felt. “You need help getting back on your feet?”

He was trying to get her away from him again. But she didn’t move. Instead, she only leaned against him more firmly with a devilish grin on her angelic features. “I actually like where I am right now.”

Deacon tried as hard as he could to keep his cheeks from flushing. “I can’t say I blame you. I tend to have that effect on women.”

When in doubt, default to joking.

“I spend most of my life breaking hearts. It’s a gift and a curse.”

Sole bit her lip as she looked up at Deacon through her eyelashes. “More gift than curse I’d say.”

Deacon was incredibly grateful for the sunglasses that hid the fact that he was openly staring at Sole’s lips now. They had a cherry tint to them from the lipstick she’d been rationing since leaving the vault. And they looked even fuller when she took her bottom lip between her teeth.

It took Deacon a moment to regain his senses and when he did, he desperately thought of some way he could joke his way out of this. “Just imagine how hard it is for the people who don’t get to see this beauty up close? All they can do is fantasize. But you? You’ve got a front row seat to this walking piece of art.”

“A front row seat?” Sole said with a challenging raise of her eyebrows. “Is this an interactive show?”

The room was still spinning, though Deacon wasn’t sure how much of that was the actual funhouse anymore.

“It could be,” he said.

Why had he said that? He was trying to keep his distance.

Sole let a tiny grin tug at the corner of her mouth as she stared at Deacon in the spinning room. She almost looked like she might pull away from him and at the mere thought, panic rose in his chest.

He didn’t care how complicated it would make things. He didn’t care that he had sworn off personal relationships. He wanted to be close to her.

Without another thought, Deacon pulled Sole tightly against his chest and pressed his lips to hers. She instantly melted into the kiss, moving her lips over his softly at first. Her softness, however, was quickly replaced by more desperate kisses as she pressed herself against him. Sole took a handful of Deacon’s Cappy shirt to pull him closer, even though they were already incredibly close. She tangled her hands in his hair that he’d grown out and dyed dark, just because he knew Sole liked it that way.

She inhaled him as they both moved together, fitting like puzzle pieces. Deacon didn’t even care that the room was still spinning and that there were probably ferals nearby. All he cared about was this moment with Sole. This perfect moment where he was finally taking what he’d wanted for so long.

When Sole moaned into his mouth, he got chills all over his body. He’d thought making Sole laugh would always be his favorite accomplishment, but this sound he’d just elicited from her had just topped the list. It only encouraged him to deepen the kiss, hungrily moving his hands over her hips, across her waist, up her back, and into her hair.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, but that was the last thing he cared about right at that moment. He’d happily die like this. Sole continued to kiss him like she’d wanted this as much as he did, even though he had a hard time believing that.

Deacon wasn’t sure they’d ever break apart, until a raspy voice rang out over a scratchy loudspeaker in the room, instantly causing Sole to jump away from him. “While I appreciate the show, I’m usually the one providing the entertainment here.”

Even though Sole had broken the kiss at the sound of the mysterious voice, she still held Deacon close, her arms around his waist.

“Who was that?” she asked in a panic.

He wasn’t sure if she was panicked because some mysterious person  was apparently also in the funhouse with them, or because they’d been caught in a compromising position.

“Just thought we’d be an opening act,” Deacon said to the otherwise empty room. He was trying to play it cool when he was internally losing his mind over the kiss he and Sole had just shared. “What can we expect from the main attraction?”

Deacon kept a protective arm around Sole in the spinning room, his eyes darting all over to try to find the source of the voice.

“I am Oswald the Outrageous, and you two are trespassing in my territory.”

Spotting the loud speaker overhead, Deacon took Sole’s hand in his and pulled her through a nearby red door that led to a hallway full of spinning tunnels. If he hadn’t been dizzy enough from the kiss, this room was sure to do him in.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Deacon began, making sure to speak loudly enough for Oswald to hear him over the hum of machinery in the funhouse. “We were just looking for a friend of ours. Goes by the name of H3-56.”

“You weren’t looking very hard, were you?” Oswald asked, his voice sly and suggestive.

Had Deacon not been worried about how much of a threat this stranger posed, he might have been embarrassed by the man’s words.

“H3-56 wandered into my territory, much like you two did.”

“And did you give him the same warm greeting?” Deacon asked.

“We need to find out where this person is,” Sole whispered to him, her eyes full of concern in the green glow of the hallway.

Deacon nodded in understanding but didn’t respond.

“Turns out H3-56 is a freak like me,” Oswald said. “He understood what it’s like to be cast out by the rest of society… so I let him go.”

Sole gave Deacon a surprised look. “Well, we appreciate your hospitality,” Deacon began. “I guess we don’t need to keep searching. Thanks for doing our job for us. We’ll just be going, but don’t worry, we’ll visit your gift shop on the way out; pick something up for Dez.”

Deacon began walking back towards the spinning room with Sole’s hand in his, but the door instantly slammed in front of them, barricading them in the hallway.

“Not so fast,” Oswald said, his voice full of menace. “I let H3-56 go out of the goodness of my heart because they were a kindred spirit. As far as I can tell, you humans don’t have to deal with the same hardships as Synths and Ghouls. So I think it’s time we have a little fun.”

Sole inhaled sharply at Oswald’s words. “Listen, we came here to rescue H3-56, not hurt him. We’re sympathetic to Synths and Ghouls alike. One of my best friends, the mayor of Goodneighbor, is a Ghoul.”

“Oh, I see,” Oswald said. “So because you have one Ghoul friend, you’re sympathetic to my kind?” His voice sounded incredulous now.

“I’m not trying to say--.”

“Tell me, Vault Dweller, do you kill Ghouls out in the wasteland with that fancy gun of yours?”

Sole looked down at her holstered gun with a furrowed brow. “Only when they’re feral and I don’t have a choice.”

Deacon could see the regret in her eyes as she spoke. He knew Sole didn’t particularly like killing, even when someone deserved it. It was something she’d held onto from her pre-war days. Maybe because she’d seen the effect it had had on her former husband when he was in the military. Maybe just because she was a compassionate person. But the fact that this stranger was accusing her of being a heartless killer when Deacon knew she was anything but, set his teeth on edge.

“Listen, drama queen, Sole doesn’t need to defend her actions to you. Now either you let us go, or you can step out from behind your wall of protection and we can handle this one on one.”

“I think you’re forgetting about the third option,” Oswald said, his voice now much happier than it had been only a moment before; almost manic. “The one where I show you that anyone is capable of being a monster. Even your sweetheart.”

Deacon didn’t have time to ask what Oswald meant before the hallway filled with green noxious fumes. He let go of Sole’s hand to cover his mouth. At first he worried that it might be aerosol radiation, but the sweet smell of the gas only gave him a headache.

“HalluciGen?” he asked, coughing slightly as the gas continued to fill the room.

Deacon looked over to Sole to make sure she was okay but the look he saw in her eyes terrified him. Her wide green eyes were darting around the room in pure abject horror.

“Sole?” Deacon asked, stepping closer to her. But the second he moved towards her, she lunged at him, her hands finding his throat and squeezing tight. “Sole!” Deacon choked out, trying to wedge his fingers under her surprisingly strong, nimble grip.

“Amazing, isn’t it? What the HalluciGen gas can do to ‘good’ people.”

“Sole,” Deacon choked again, trying desperately to pry her fingers away from his throat.

Her eyes were crazed and watery and she tightened her grip on him. And while he had been reveling in their close contact only a moment before, this wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind.

“Sole, you have to let go,” he choked. “I’m on your side… always have been.”

At the familiar words he’d said to Sole a million times before, her grip loosened ever so slightly. Her brows were still knitted together in confusion and terror, but the moment of clarity was enough for Deacon to forcefully pull her hands away from his throat and pin them to her sides.

Sole almost immediately began fighting back against him again, trying to break free from his grasp. Deacon wrapped his arms around her middle, sure to keep her arms pinned in place as he lifted her off the ground and unceremoniously carried her to the opposite end of the hallway, where a door stood open, leading back out to the lobby.

Once they were away from the green HalluciGen gas, Sole’s fighting grew weaker. She still struggled against Deacon’s grip, but her heart wasn’t in it. Instead he held her tightly while she whimpered, her eyes opening and closing rapidly as she came back to herself.

“You back with me, Charmer?” Deacon asked. “Or are you still going to try to pop my head off with those tiny little hands of yours?”

Sole’s eyes met Deacon’s behind his sunglasses as she blinked a few more times. “Deacon?”

“There she is,” he said, his smile returning. “You must really be into some weird stuff in the bedroom,” Deacon joked.

“Deacon,” she warned, her voice low.

“No, I mean it. I enjoyed our kiss too, but that escalated quickly.” He puckered his lips at her as he smiled.

“It’s not funny,” she said. “I… I couldn’t tell it was you. I couldn’t even tell what I was doing. I just knew I was trapped and needed to get away.”

Deacon’s face fell at her words. Maybe joking wasn’t always the best default. “You’re safe now,” he said.

“Is she, though?” Oswald asked, though now his voice sounded clear; unchanged by the static of a loudspeaker.

Sole and Deacon turned to find the Ghoul standing near the entrance to the funhouse in all his dramatic glory.

His scarred skin glowed green between the cracks, only making his suit and top hot that much more impressive.

“Pleased to meet you both,” the Ghoul said with a deep bow and a grin.

Deacon didn’t know whether he should be furious at the Ghoul or impressed by his showmanship.

“Dude, I appreciate a dramatic entrance as much as the next egotistical narcissist, but you could have really caused some damage in there,” Deacon said. “Also, I totally love your hat and want to know where I can get one as soon as we sort all this out.”

Sole hit Deacon on the arm, but he simply looked over at her and shrugged.

“It’s a killer hat,” he said.

“I feel like my reception of you was more than fair, given that you trespassed in my territory in order to hurt a Synth,” Oswald said, his voice much more impressive in person.

It had a dramatic quality that reminded Deacon of the old Silver Shroud radio show.

“I already told you, we were trying to save the Synth,” Sole said, her voice heavy with annoyance. “We thought he’d been kidnapped.”

Oswald regarded them for a long moment, his green glowing eyes moving between the two. “I don’t suppose…” his words trailed off as he screwed his face up in concentration. “Do you have a geiger counter?”

At his words, Sole’s face lit up. “Mine’s in the shop,” she responded.

The instant those two sentences were spoken, the tension in the room seemed to melt away.

“H3-56 told me to use that phrase if someone came looking for him,” Oswald said. “He told me it would help me know who was a friend and who was an enemy.”

“He was right,” Deacon said. “Although I wish you would have used the phrase before you tried to poison us with your Hallucigen gas.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Oswald said. “It wouldn’t poison you. It would just make you two kill each other.”

Oswald waved his hand as if this were an important distinction.

“Why didn’t it make Deacon go crazy?” Sole asked, looking over at the spy in confusion.

“Extensive Railroad training,” Deacon said. And when Sole gave him a look like he was joking around with her again he pressed on. “I’m actually serious this time. After Dez and I found the HalluciGen Inc. lab, we knew this stuff would be dangerous if it got into the wrong hands.” Deacon gave Oswald an accusatory look as he said this.

The Ghoul just shrugged in an unconcerned way.

“Dez had the field agents work to build up an immunity to it,” Deacon went on. “It’s not easy to do, but it’s not impossible.”

Sole gave Deacon a guilty look at his words. “So you were totally lucid while I tried to kill you?”

“Like I said, if that’s the kind of thing you’re into, I’m not going to shame you. I’m an open-minded guy.” He gave Sole a grin that made her cheeks turn a dark shade of red.

He loved that he could make her blush.

“Okay, well this mission has been sufficiently awkward,” Sole said, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked over at Oswald. “Thank you for… not killing us… I guess.”

“My pleasure,” Oswald said with another deep bow.

“And thanks for the intel on the Synth. I’m happy he was able to get out of the Commonwealth safely.” Sole gave Oswald a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Deacon? You ready to go find Danse and MacCready?”

“Sure thing, boss” Deacon said, giving Oswald a nod.

Sole began walking towards the exit of the funhouse, careful to avoid Oswald’s eyes as she walked. When Deacon followed her, he stopped just short of the door and turned to the Ghoul with a grin.

“Okay, but seriously, where did you get that hat?”

[Part 5]

[literaila]

these memories live with me

spencer reid x reader

summary: a collection of letters the reader writes to spencer :D

warnings: fluffy. kinda cute. there are memories. some inferences to death. nothing too bad. and bad writing.. but yeah

****

Spencer, 

Do you remember the time we went to the beach? 

You swore to me, over and over, that you weren't going. 

“Y/N, there is an average of 3,536 fatal drownings at the beach each year, not to mention the boat accidents. We aren't going.” 

I just laughed. I was pretty sure you’d never actually been to the beach before that. It didn't seem like it, seemed more like you were trying to protect us from danger that wasn't there. I’m not sure if it was for me or for you. 

Do you remember laughing? Do you remember how much fun we had? How sunburned we were the next day? 

Do you remember me running away from you, throwing me in the water? Do you remember that little boy coming up and asking you to build a sandcastle with you? Do you remember getting dinner later that night and spilling sand onto the booth? You hated that. Do you remember the glow we had for days after? The cold showers we had to take? 

I don't think anything could’ve wiped the smile off of your face that day. Before that, I don't think I’d ever seen you have so much fun. 

You’re usually so reserved, usually, you throw out facts to fill the silence, and explain to me everything about everything. Except for you. You never really told me anything about you before that. But that day, god that day you just lit up. Suddenly nothing had to be kept secret, suddenly you weren't afraid to be yourself, weren't afraid to tell me about the books you were reading, the thoughts you were thinking, the interesting little things that I didn't know could be so interesting. 

That day you told me about your Mom. You told me how you’d always felt guilty, guilty for not being there for her, guilty for letting her be alone all the time, you told me that you wished you could visit more, that your Mom deserved more visits, more time with her only family. You told me that you could never get the image of her begging you not to go to the hospital, to stay home, out of your head. You told me that was the one thing you wished you could forget. That having a memory like yours was only good when you needed to be a textbook. 

You told me that you felt really tired. 

But you were smiling. You were telling me all these things about you, all these things that would break a normal person down, that would crush anyone else's bones in half, but you were saying all of these horrible things, all of these things I wished I could erase from existing, and you were smiling. 

I still can't imagine how you were still smiling. 

I can't imagine how you could tell me all of that and still have fun, still mention loving the beach after we left. I can't imagine how that could be a happy memory for you. But I’m glad it was. I’m glad I was the first person to introduce you to the joys of the beach. 

You have always been stronger, been so much better, so much more than everyone else. I will never know how you turned out to be such an amazing person. I will never understand how good you are. I will never understand. 

But I still know that I wouldn't change a thing about you. 

You always smiled with me. I’ve never known why. 

That day at the beach you introduced a new side of yourself to me, you decided to tell me the truth, but you also didn't allow me any room to feel bad for you. You decided to smile instead, and ask me if I wanted to go swimming. 

That's one of my favorite days with you. One of my favorite nights. 

I wish we had taken more pictures. Wish I could look at you smiling all the time, and wish that I had more memories of that day. 

Do you remember going to the beach? 

That was fun. 

She sighed and dropped her pen. She rubbed her eyes. Maybe it was time for bed. 

*

Spence, 

Do you remember going to that pottery class? 

From our bed, I can see the distorted pot that we made together. 

You were the one who set up the date. We wanted to try something new together, something that wasn't just a movie. You said pottery was the perfect thing. And while I complained before going, secretly I was happy to go with you. Mostly because you were so excited.  

You explained it all to me before we were there, told me about the proper way to make a clay pot, the best way to spin on a wheel, you explained everything to me before we even left the car, crammed all that information into your brain for that one date. 

It was adorable. 

Your eyes were so bright that night, you looked so excited to be able to learn something new with me, even though you basically already knew how to do everything. You were practically buzzing in anticipation on the way over, you were jumping up and down in my car and you were still smiling. 

I love your smile. 

Have I ever mentioned that? That I love it almost as much as I love you? It's one of my favorite things about you, one of the only things that never ceases to make me amazed- besides your brain of course -because it's so beautiful. I hope you know that. 

But once we got there you pulled me out of the car, barely letting me get the keys out of the ignition. You begged me to hurry up, 

“This is exciting Y/N, come on!” 

And once we were in there, we had no idea what we were doing. 

Apparently, reading and watching videos is not the same as doing it. 

I think you were upset about that. 

I think you wanted to impress me, wanted to show me what amazing things we could make together. But, when we finally got to sit down, both of us were not really paying attention. I think it's partly your fault we weren't listening to the instructor because you told me you knew how to do it, but you’ve always disagreed and said it was my fault. 

In the end, we left with muddy hands, dirty clothes, and what looks like an oval-shaped vase. 

I love that vase. 

You got mad at me for putting it on display. Secretly I think you love it too. 

I can feel how warm you were even while writing this, I can still imagine your soft breath on my neck, the kisses you gave my neck and cheeks when we did something right together. I can still feel your hands on mine, trying to intertwine but never quite making it due to the slick. 

I still smile when I think of the pout on your face when the wheel stopped spinning. 

Although we have a terribly made pot sitting in our house due to your idea of a date, I’m glad we went. I’m glad I got to spend time with you. I’m glad that we have this memory, one that isn't perfect, just for the two of us. I’m glad we can look back on that night and laugh at it. I’m glad you decided that making pottery was a good idea. 

I’m glad that you enjoyed it as much as you did. Before and after. 

I’m glad you got the chance to plan something for us, I’m glad we found time in between your busy schedule. I’m glad I still have the pot. 

But I will admit, my favorite part of that night was sitting in your lap. 

Her head was falling from her body. Nothing could keep it up. Maybe some more sleep would help. 

*

Love, 

Do you remember our first fight? 

Do you remember how scared I was, how used I was to all of my boyfriends leaving at any sign of danger, how terrified I was of you leaving me? Of you changing your mind. 

Because I was, I was so terrified. 

I will admit I don't have the best taste in men, that I choose guys that are bound to hurt me because I’m afraid, I’m afraid that I’m unloveable, I’m afraid that everyone will leave, that I’m not good enough for anyone to stay. I’m afraid that no matter what, nothing will last for me because that's just how I am, that's just how it's supposed to be. I was always afraid that the cards I had would never change. 

So, when you got mad, when I got upset, when we decided that it was time to fight, that not everything could be perfect for us, I froze. 

We were fighting over some silly little thing, about me going out late, being out too late for you. And looking back, I can see that you were just scared. I can see that it didn't matter how safe I could be, that you knew what kind of evil was in the world, that you understood all the bad people more than I could ever imagine. I can see that you just wanted me to be safe, that you just didn't want anything bad to happen for me. Looking back, and seeing the expression that remained on your face, the little bit of concern, the frustration which I now know was directed at yourself, rather than me. You were always so frustrated with yourself for wanting to keep me safe. 

I can see why you were upset now. I can understand it. But, I can also see myself, and I can see how annoyed I was with you taking care of me, I can see how annoying it was that you thought I couldn't take care of myself. 

I think that's why we started fighting. 

I think that even though my past was a big part of my fear, I think I was also scared because I knew you were just trying to protect me. I knew that you were only doing whatever you could to keep me from all the bad things you saw every day. 

I think I was scared that you would leave, that you would see I didn't want to be controlled, that one of us would leave and that would be it. 

I remember crying. Do you remember that? Do you remember the sobs that came out of my mouth once I saw what was happening, once I realized that we were actually fighting, that we were not perfect like I thought we were? 

I remember you being scared of my tears. I remember your face turning from irritation and concern to shock and worried. I can still hear your voice begging me to stop crying, that I didn't need to cry, that there was nothing wrong. 

I can still see the hurt in your eyes at my fear. I can still see how much it hurt you that I was upset. 

I can still hear you saying “I’m not going anywhere baby, shh, I’m not going anywhere without you beautiful.” 

I’m not sure how you knew exactly what to say, but you did. 

Sometimes, when I’m upset, when I don't feel good, I play your voice, your words on repeat in my head. I listen to your calm reassuring voice, I listen to the warmth that masked everything you said to me even then when our relationship was so young. 

I’ve always chosen bad guys, always picked from the bunch of people I knew would leave me, the people I knew I wouldn't get too attached too because I didn't want that. I didn't want to make a commitment and then lose it. I’ve always thought like that, always picked the people I decided to love like that. 

Except for you. 

I chose to love you because you were worth it. Because I knew that even if you left, even if we couldn't be together forever, that you were worth it, that even a day with you was better than nothing at all. Even when we didn't know each other well, I knew that. 

I’ve always thought you were so much better than everyone else. 

I was right. 

I’m so glad that our small fights taught us so much about each other. 

She yawned and looked at the clock. It was too late. She wasn't supposed to be up. She went to bed before anybody got there. 

*

Pumpkin, 

Do you remember the first time I told you I love you? 

Because I do. Because I still live in that moment sometimes. My epiphany. 

I remember driving with you, for twelve hours, because that's what we liked to do. We liked to spend all day in the car together, all day just talking and listening to music and watching the world pass behind us. I remember that. 

Sometimes, I still want to go on long drives with you like I used to. 

I loved that so much. 

I remember you complaining about the music, I remember you looking over to me and covering your ears, I remember laughing. 

I remember you smiling at my laugh. You always smiled when I laughed. 

I remember asking you if you wanted something if there was any place you wanted to stop before I started driving home. 

At that point, I already knew I loved you. Before that moment it was clear to me that I loved you. It was the feeling of stars bursting in my stomach, the intense want to be around you whenever I could, the tears in my eyes at your pain, the laugh in my voice at just your smile. 

It was your warmth, your undying kindness, your much too willing acceptance of who I was. It was everything about you that I loved. There was nothing that I didn't love about you. 

But, in the end, I think it was your smile. 

Your smile always paved the way for me, always brightened up every day, always made me feel better, always filled my heart with nothing but bold emotions, with nothing but everything that I was feeling at once. 

Your smile was always so intense, always so loud and bright, always there when it could be because you rarely stopped smiling. 

I think that's what I loved most about it, that you never stopped. 

And, at that moment when you smiled at me, your happiness was as plain as day, at that moment, I couldn't stop myself from telling you that I was in love with you. 

Spencer, I know you’ve denied this before, I know that you’ve always said that you were never shocked, that it wasn't too fast because you loved me too. 

But you were surprised. Your face was frozen for a moment, and you looked at me, not in a bad way, no you never looked at me in a bad way, but this was an expression that I had never seen come from you before, this was something entirely new. 

You looked like you were in awe. 

Like you couldn't believe I could love you like you had just imagined the words in your head like they weren't actually real. 

And no matter how much you deny it, I know the truth. I don't need your words to confirm it. 

But after I blurted out the words, looked shocked at myself, after that, you looked at me and finally asked 

“Is it because I don't like this song?” 

And I laughed again. And you smiled again. 

I love you. 

I will always love you. 

The tears running down her face were nothing. The hand rubbing her shoulder was nothing. 

*

Spence, 

My shoulders hurt today. 

I’m not sure why. I haven't been doing much. I never really do much when you aren't here. 

But my shoulders hurt. 

I wish you were here. Whenever my shoulders hurt and you’re in bed, you always offer to give me a back rub, always persist at my initial refusal, always tell me that you just want to be close to me for a little while. 

And you’d always whisper little things to me, always telling me how beautiful I was, how amazing I looked without any makeup on, how incredibly harsh I was on myself. You were always telling me just how proud of me you were, just how much work you’d seen me do, you always made sure to let me know that I was appreciated. 

As if I wouldn't know that by the look in your eyes. 

I wish you were here now so I could feel that again. So I could feel your hands rub up and down my back, so I could feel the warm pressure you always use to get out the knots. I wish I could hear your voice in my ear, the breath on my cheek. I wish I could ask you to rub my shoulders, not take it for granted this time. 

I miss you, Spence. 

My shoulders are sore without you. 

Come back soon. 

She didn't utter a word after that. 

*

Dr. Reid, 

When we first met, when you first explained to me about your job, you persisted the fact that you weren't going to be there all the time, that I wouldn't get you whenever I wanted like a normal boyfriend. You told me that we were going to have to work to be together, that our relationship would take work, that you understood if I didn't want to do that if it was too much for me. 

And I don't think you ever understood. 

Although I knew that you were going to be gone a lot, that it would be hard nights alone, cold nights waiting for you on the couch. That there were going to be nights when I might regret it, nights that I might miss you so much that I’d wish that we had never known each other in the first place. I knew that there were going to be days where I was lonely, days that you couldn't help me with my feelings, days when you had to be an agent first, and a boyfriend second. I knew that my attachment issues were going to be a struggle, that it was going to take more work on my part to be okay with you leaving all the time, that it was going to be hard to be so far apart from you for so long. 

I knew all of these things. 

And you’d warned me about them, you’d looked at me with hard eyes and explained everything, explained everything as if it would matter to me. You frowned for the longest time, and all I could remember was wishing for your smile. 

You didn't understand then, and I still don't think you understand. 

I could never leave you. I could never ever let go of you. 

Almost as soon as we’d met, you became like a drug to me, so relaxing, so amazing, so perfect. I knew that I was obsessed with you far too quick, that my addiction was too intense too fast. I knew that, but you never did. 

You never understood how much I tried to resist, tried to keep myself apart from you so that I couldn't become addicted, you never knew how much I had failed at doing that. 

Two months in, and you warned me, but it was too late at that point. Your warning wouldn't do a thing because you were a drug I couldn't get off of, you were something that was permanently attached to me. 

You never understood that. 

I wish I understood more. 

She fell asleep at her desk. Pen in hand. 

*

Spencer, 

I remember the first time you told me you loved me. 

I remember how elated I felt, how high my heart had soared. 

It was a couple weeks after I told you, a couple of weeks of pretending I wasn't hurt by your hesitation, a couple of weeks of trying to come to terms with the fact that you didn't love me yet. 

It was a rough couple of weeks for me. 

But you erased all of it, every inch when you mumbled the words while we were watching that movie, the one I can't remember the name of because I was so distracted by you. 

You have always been so amazing to me. 

Always so loyal, always so devoted. 

There has never been anyone who has loved anyone as much as I love you. I don't think any amount of words, any synonym for love will compare with how I feel. 

It's unfortunate I can't tell you exactly. 

I’ve always hoped you could feel it. That you didn't need words when you had me. 

I remember never being hesitant to say it again after you told me, I remember not being afraid anymore once I knew that you loved me back. 

It was a breaking point for us, the start of a new chapter. It was almost an entirely new book. 

I’ve always been sure that I loved you more. 

But, I think that as long as you loved me even a fraction of an inch as much as I loved you, it would be enough. 

It was enough that you loved me. 

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She lifted her head slightly. 

*

My love, 

They think I need to go someplace else. They think I need to getaway. 

Emily says I should stop writing. 

They all think that it isn't good for me. 

I love you. 

*

Spencer, 

Do you remember the time you forgot about our anniversary?

Do you remember how tired you were? How exhausted you had been when you got home and I was waiting for you on the couch. 

You seemed so disappointed in yourself, so upset for disappointing me. 

I was worried about you that day. 

Because, no matter what I did, no matter how many things I had planned, that day there weren't enough smiles. 

It was okay though. 

Because the next day you made up for it. It was a day late, but it was perfect. 

Thank you for tying yourself to me. 

Thank you for devoting yourself to me. 

Thank you for remembering everything I’ve ever told you. 

I wish I could remember. 

When she handed over the journal, they all pretended not to notice the tear stains ratted along it. 

*

Reid, 

I unpacked some of your boxes today. 

I moved. 

I don't like it in this new apartment. 

It's too cold without you. It doesn't smell like you. It doesn't have the bookcases. It doesn't feel like ours anymore. 

I unpacked our vase. 

And the seashells we collected. 

And the movie ticket.

And the polaroid pictures. 

And the scrapbook. 

I found the ring today. 

*

Spencer, 

I love you. 

I’ve always loved you. 

*

She sobbed as she pulled at her hair, as she fell to the floor, battered in scars and bruises that would never show up on her skin, battered in nothing but imaginary marks that she didn't think would never go away. 

She hated black dresses. 

*

Baby, 

You used to call me that. 

I miss it. 

I went to your funeral today. 

I don't think I’ll ever remember you the way I want to. 

I wish we had taken more pictures. 

*

Spencer, 

This is the last letter for now. 

I’m not allowed to write anymore. 

Everyone has insisted I get out. So I’m going to. 

I’m moving even farther this time. 

It's been a year my love. 

I miss you. I love you. 

Please don't forget about me. I’ll never forget about you. 

She slammed the car door. She put on his jacket. She had a long way to drive.

***

Sorry! I was an idiot and something happened while editing. 

Heres the taglist (again): @missdowntonabbey @your-eternal-muse @qonble @bisoner @purelypanicking 

masterlist here

[hanahaki-neko]

Across Millenia | Venti x Reader

He never once forget about her. Even after so long. But Venti never expected to meet her again,after all this time

note : reincarnation AU. again this is a work from wattpad but i hope y’all enjoy it. this is from my early days so excuse me if the fic is bad lmao

Windwheel aster. That was her favourite flower. Even as a little wind spirit he'd keep a breeze blowing through the field to ensure that they don't wilt. Sure he was just a tiny insignificant being in the world with little to no power over the whirlwind surrounding the city,but at least he made sure the flowers where she would often go was always there to greet her.

Y/N and the bard would make their way through the city. She would smile in delight whenever she sees the little windwheel asters. True that they only grow in places that has gentle breeze. One without or one with too much fierce would kill them. The girl and a few others that had one of these flora on their windows or balcony never really did realize that the tiny spirit was the one who made sure they're still alive.

He cared about both of them so much. They had grown so close and even spend almost every hour together. Talking about the most trivial of things and doing everything together

"You two are just like twins." She laughed when he tried to shift and look like the bard.

"Well maybe he can sing with me by the tavern sometime in the future."

He loved her. He loved her so much. He didn't care if a little wind spirit and a human can't be together,or did he know if this was okay. But he never really had the guts to tell her properly. The bard knew of his feelings and was completely on board. He'd go to where she'd usually be and spend time together,sometime leaving him be with her while he went to get some drinks. He loved the bard for his supportive nature and he loved Y/N for her kind and gentle soul.

Watching the windwheel aster spins gently,and watch the dandelions scatter around when blown. "They're just like you when you float around." Said the girl,and he giggles in response. He loved the look of peace and serenity in the comfort of those flowers,despite the tyrant's rule.

Whatever would made her happy,he would do. Bringing cookies when she's feeling peckish,to visiting her during sleepless nights and keep her company. Comforting her when she feels sad. He would make sure that she keeps smiling everyday.

He would watch over both the bard and Y/N to ensure their safety. He would also support their decision and wishes. So when the bard voiced his objection against the tyrant's control over the city and seeing the girl also agreed,this little wind spirit too decided to join the rebellion. Rallying up the citizens to overthrow the tyrant,the chaos that came over,it was pretty overwhelming.

He did his best with his powers to assist them. Many bloods were drawn,many lives lost. They were separated as he went with the bard. Swords clashed and screams of pain an agony echoed throughout. But for freedom, nothing is too much of a price.

Is it?

He watched in horror,as the arrow pierced his chest. The bard fell to the ground with a thud as others rushed to his aid. The tower crumbled down as the tyrant is no more,but in the fight to obtain freedom, the bard had lost his life. Just as he thought this couldn't get any worse,the little spirit noticed that the girl was nowhere to be seen. He flutter around in panic,already crying his tiny heart out. And it just shatter into a million pieces when he saw her underneath the rubbles of the building. He cried and pleaded for others to save her. But no one could as the damage had been done. Cuts from swords and a stab wound by the spear was the end of her.

"No,no,no,this can't be happening!' He knew he should've told her to stay out of the fight. She shouldn't have grabbed that sword and fight alongside the others. She smiled weakly with grief hidden underneath upon knowing the fate of her friend the bard. She tried to reach out a hand to the spirit,which he could only held a finger with his tiny body.

"Make sure the freedom stays with them,okay?"

He did his best to keep that promise. He knew that both the girl and the bard would be glad to know that their effort weren't in vain. Their funeral was held and weep he did for a period of time unknown to anyone. How long had it been. Almost over three millenia by this point? It's been so,so long and yet it's one of the memories that stuck with him.

Fly fly away

Like the birds in the sky

See the world on my behalf

To the heavens you may fly

The song never once left his memory. The ones sung by the bard and the girl. Whenever he walks the land of Mondstadt and hear the people drink and party,Venti couldn't help but feel just a bit nostalgic. He toured the city and the land that he should've been govern, simply singing and telling tales to those who would listen. Just doing anything other than reigning over the city.

He was taken back to reality when Aether called him. Venti stood beneath the tree in windrise as he looked to the windborne traveller.

"Shouldn't you be on your way to Liyue by now? You're going to miss the rite of descension if you don't hurry." He said.

"Well we should make if it we use the teleport points. It might take only a few days and the rite is probably still a week away." Paimon replied.

"And i kinda want to spend just a bit more time with you before we depart,if you don't mind? And you know maybe take a commission or two." Aether asked.

Venti smiled,"Might as well visit Mondstadt and pick up a few audiences." They all walk back to the city where once again he sings and tells many tales. The tale of how Mondstadt becomes the city of freedom it's known right now. How the people of old times fought the tyrant. The memory of his past clouded his thoughts,and he almost cried during his performance.

Aether treated him to lunch at good hunter afterwards and they had quite the uneventful day,really. The traveller was talking to Katheryne about some commissions when Venti felt someone approaching them. He glanced over to see who it was and he was,how to put it- surprised? Dumbfounded?

The same silhouette and appearance, the h/c hair might have been a different length in the eyes,but everything else was exactly the same. Venti kept starring at her,lost in time gazing into her e/c eyes. She looked back at him and smiled a little greeting them.

"Hi. I'm Y/N,the one who commissioned for the whopperflower hunt?"

"Oh,yeah. What's up with that?" Paimon asked.

Vent completely tuned out the entire conversation. Was it possible? Is it the same person he knew back in old Mondstadt? Just being able to see her brought back the abundance of memory he had. 'Get it together,Venti. At least say something to them.' he thought to himself. He jumped a bit when Aether tapped his shoulder,asking him something he didn't quite catch.

"H-huh? What?" He looked at the traveller.

"I said can you accompany Y/N while me and Paimon check out the horde of whopperflowers and get some nectar?"

"Oh! Oh,yeah,sure."

"Geez,he's been spacing out a lot today. What's wrong with that tone-deaf bard." Paimon sighed before the two of the left the city.

Venti is now left alone with Y/N,with both of them not really knowing what to do or say to each other. "I don't think we've officially been introduced. I'm Y/N,an alchemist." The girl said trying to break the silence.

"I'm Venti. Though you might know me if you've come and listen to my performance before this encounter." He replied to which she smiled and nodded a little.

"Say,you..want to take a walk around Windrise? The weather's nice today." He offered.

"Well,i can't progress my research until i get the materials needed."

She accepted the offer and he took her hand and led her to one if his favourite spot. Holding her hand felt exactly the same as it did all those years back. Her hands felt small against his, though it would've been the opposite in the past. The two sat down under the tree and exchanged stories. Time flies when you're having fun.

"You like flowers?" He spoke after noticing her holding a certain set of them.

"I guess? I like windwheel asters most, though." She smiled in reply.

He couldn't help but think 'just like her' as she went on to tell about how she grew some of these at her house. How they only grow in places with gentle winds blowing through. He of course knew of this fact,but he didn't mind listening to her rambling about them. He'd listen with a small smile plastered to his face the entire time.

"So, you're an alchemist..but what's with all those bandages?" He asked this time after seeing her wrist wrapped in one.

"Oh, it's just some accidents on the lab and some scars i got from foraging for materials." She said,a nervous laugh followed after.

He felt a slight pain in his chest at the thought of her getting hurt. Even back then she would sometimes ger her knee scratched or fell down and trip every now and then. 'Still as fragile as ever', He said to himself. He told her more about what he saw during his travel across the land,but sometimes he noticed that she's blankly starring at him,

"Hey,Y/N. What's wrong?" He asked.

No response.

"Hello? Teyvat to Y/N?" He called again.

That seems to get her out of her little world,she shook her head a bit, regaining focus,"o-oh,what is it?"

"You've starring at me for quite a while now. Were you charmed by my good looks,perhaps?" He said teasingly.

"Wha- no! That's not it." She stuttered back,her hands up in denial and face blushing a deep shade of red.

"It's just...i feel like i know you well before meeting you here."

"I feel like i've known you for a long time."

This time Venti was the one not responding to her words. If he wasn't sure,he sure as heck is now believing she was the same Y/N he knew and loved. Perhaps she didn't have the memory her past self had,but that didn't matter to him,he was overjoyed at this point.

"Well, maybe you've seen me perform before and just didn't remember." He said, looking away and hiding a soft smile.

"Or maybe you've known me from way before." He whispered under his breath.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"No,i was just thinking about putting on a show tomorrow in front of the statue for others to hear yet another heroic tale." He smiled at her.

"I hope you would come and watch me sing,dear Y/N."

"I won't miss it for the world." She smiled back,chuckling.

His eyes soften as he grabbed her hand which surprised her at first. He leaned in and kissed her lips,earning a gasp in response and a blush as well. He stood up as his smile curved into a grin.

"Then i shall look forward to tomorrow." He said putting the windwheel aster over her ear.

Venti bid farewell and without waiting for a response took his leave while she was still shocked,trying his best not to blush in front of Y/N. When he got far enough he just crouch down and mumbled something incomprehensible to himself. It was bold of him to do something like that in the first place, especially when they just met earlier today. Sure he knew her from like 2600 years ago but she had no recollection of him.

Still,somehow she was once again here before him. He'll protect her and made sure she's safe. He will never let anything bad happen to her. It will take some time for them to get to know each other all over again,but he didn't really mind.

He's really looking forward to her coming to see him perform tomorrow.

Y/N on the other hand was still recovering from the entire information overload. Face still a bit red from the entire oreal. From afar she could hear Aether and Paimon calling out to her. "Heeeyy! We got that nectar you waanted!" "Oh,t-thanks." She pulled herself out of her own little world to take the materials she asked for and paid them for their works. But just as soon as they left looking for the bard,she once again was lost in her own thoughts.

They just met today,but it felt like she had known him forever. Some of his 'old' tales felt all to familiar. And she was beyon surprised when he suddenly kissed her.

But somehow she didn't mind.

The sense of familiarity she had when talking to him put her at ease,and she felt like there's nothing to worry about. She felt safe when she's with him. And a part of her couldn't help but want to know him better.

She put a finger over her lips, still not reall over the fact that he kissed her so suddenly,then to brushing against the flower he put on her. But she smiled, thinking that he's way bolder than he looks.

She can't wait to come and watch him sing tomorrow.

[fakeloveaskblog]

Yay lasertag!!! Janus you should totally go visit Remus on the weekend and hang out! Also, maybe invite Remy too, if they wanna come. Then (specially if they don't show) you can plan with them both to maybe go on another hangout with Remus but to somewhere you like and let Remy tag along for the ride if they wanna while u're at it.

(Words: 3153 words)

Janus: "Ah yes! I will let you know that after hanging out with Remus I managed to use my incredible totally very good texting skills to ask the Rems if they wanted to go to an art museum and they both for some reaosn, maybe they are being blackmailed, said yes! I hope it will go g-"

He cut himself off as he saw the two Rems come towards him. He had been waiting outside the museum. (Honestly half the reason he had choosen it was because he knew Remus liked art)

Remus waved at him while grinning. He had on sweatpants, a way too large t-shirt and a necklace made out of animal bones. Remy had their arm swung around him. Even though they had sunglasses on their eyebags were still visible.

“Aight gamers! Are we ready to do an epic art heist!! I got my sunglasses ready!” Remus exclaimed. He didn’t, he was planning on stealing Remy’s sunglasses.

“Partner you’re forgetting that we must first observe the security measures of the museum before we can even start to plan the heist” Janus replied.

“Oh!!! That’s what we’re doing today isn’t it??”

“Correct partner!”

“Babes I dunno why you gotta steal art when I’m standing right here” Remy added while posing.

“Good point. Good point” 

Janus had on a yellow bowtie he’d gotten from Logan, a loose purple shirt and black dress pants. People had to look fancy when they went to museums right? Remy had a skirt short enough to fool god and their boyfriend’s hoodie on (it looked oversized on them but with how skinny they were Everything looked oversized on them).

As soon as they got in Remus started to bounce up and down as he looked at the posters showing all the different exhibitions. There was a modern art one, classical and one smaller exhibition for specifically mosaic works.

“So whatcha you wanna look at Snakey?” Remus asked.

Janus was caught of guard “Why are you asking me?”

“Well you chose how we would hang out. C’mon you deserve to choose this too”

He looked over to Remy who shrugged “Uhm okay. Well. The classical paintings would proably give us the most money on the black market so lets look at those”

“Yay!” 

Remus quickly took on his noise canceling headphones and a chew necklace before doing thumbs up. He firmly took Janus’ hand in his. He sent him a soft smile which made Jan’s heart spin before dashing of with him into the exhibition.

A few big paintings from the renaissance hung on the wall. Remy came a little later since with the cane they walked pretty slow. Remus eyed the paintings from a distance before squinting at them up close. He flapped the hand he was hoding Janus with around.

"Oh!!! This is so cool!!!! This is from the renaissance but it's not using the chiaro oscuro technique like everyone did 'cause Da Vinci would eat their newborn if they didnt!”

"Is that why it's looking flatter than me?" Remy asked.

“YEah!! Augh I love the renaissance!!! Mostly because they were dissecting bodies so much!! sometimes for the sole purpose of drawing anatomy better!! I wanna do that! Or watch someone do that! Getting to see one of those old classrooms where they dissected corpses would be so awesome!”

“Huh good way to get rid of bodies. Great time for serial killers” Janus commented.

He let out a dreamy sigh “It truly was. They’re doing serial killers dirty nowadays”

They went through some more rooms of renaissance paintings. Janus made sure to hold Remus back a bit so Remy could keep up with them. The duke kept rambling about different shading techniques.

They stepped into another room and the style changed. Remus continued to flap his hand nonetheless. Janus was definitely going to have pain in his wrist tomorrow. It was worth it if he could hold his hand though.

Remy leaned their elbow on top of Janus’ head “This is like the baroque time right?”

“YEah!” Remus’ eyes went huge “Bean you didn’t tell me you were into art history??! Do you know about Ruben too?? I like how he paints butts!”

“What? Nah. I just- I can like see it on the clothes in the paintings. Can’t you?”

“Do I look like a time traveling fashiong guru” Janus replied sarcastically “That is honestly impressive”

Remy sunk in on themself and a hint of red appeared on their cheeks “No. Nah. I’m like a total airhead! Completel idiot! hehe I’m like tots sure everyone knows this stuff. Y’all are just bad at fashion. I uh anyway Rem you were gonna rant?”

“I was?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh....Okay!!” He looked around the room before getting caught on a small painting in the corner. He dashed over to it “HANds!”

The painting depicted 2 bloody hands over a table. They were holding onto each other. the red stuck out against the dark background. It was hard to see if they were supposed to belong to two people who were fighting or in love.

Remus looked down at Janus’ hand while playing with his fingers “I think my favorite body part are hands” He mumbled “I mean they’re horseshit to draw but they can do so much”

Janus looked away from the painting as well. He let his crush do whatever he wanted with his hand as long as he kept holding it. the way he held him so lightly but kept rubbing his thumb up and down his skin made him melt.

“Yeah they can do a lot of fucked up shit” Remy butted in. Jan nearly jumped. He’d completely lost himself in adoring his crush.

“Well hands can also be used to give snakes small berries! And to make coffee!”

“Girl I wasn’t starting an argument. But you sure did won it!”

Remus was staring down into the floor as he said “When I become a cannibal I would wanna try eating human fingers first. I’m sure they would be tasty”

“Why was there a when in there?” Jan asked in a small amount of terror.

“Oh yeah babe totally. I will like actually eat a dick” Remy agreed.

“Why is there a will in there? What kind of time tenses are you people on?? Does english grammar mean nothing to you heathens!?”

Remy got a smug look on their face. They poked their finger right into Janus’ chest “C’mon say what you will eat when you become a cannibal”

“Yeah Snakey” Remus squished his cheeks “Say it! Say it! Say it!”

The two of them kept going on while Janus looked like a sour lemon until he finally caved in.

“Fine. I would either eat the stomach or....the buttocks since they would have the most fat and sustain me the longest”

The Rems looked at each other before bursting out into laughter. “He said butT!” Remus cackled out. The other Rem nodded along and pretended to wipe away a tear from laughter.

“Aight babe let’s put the guy out of his misery” 

They motioned for Remus to go ahead. He happily skipped into the next room and grabbed Jan’s hand to take him with him. The snake couldn’t help but notice how Remy stayed behind for a monent.

“Oh cool!! We’re onto impressionism! The first real art style!” He sighed “From impressionism to cartoon furries. How magical the journey of art is” 

(Jan who had a scaley phase in high school chose to not reply)

“I love the music as well. Crazy lads. My favorite lad?” Remus snickered “De bussy!!”

“That’s my porn name” Remy instantly replied, coming up behind them. “Hey that paint lady kinda like looks like Terra” They pointed at a painting.

“....Hey YEaH! I guess my art is timeless!”

Janus looked between them “who’s Terra?”

“Well girl” Remy playfully ruffled Remus’ hair “She’s just Rem’s tots cool like cartoon character. She’s like all over his sketchbook. Makes it look kinda straight if you ask me but she does have like a very cool design so I get it!”

“Oh......Yes...Sounds very....cool”

The group kept going around looking at art. While it felt like lead was filling Janus’ chest. He’d never heard about Terra. He’d never seen his sketchbook. Meaning they had spent time with each other without him.

He pierced his nails into his palms to stop the thoughts. He refused to be some jealous person who didn’t allow his friends to hang out without him.....Still he wish he could have seen the drawings as well....seen them smile together...heard their shared laughter....

Oh. Oh what if they thought he was annoying. What if they preferred being without him. What if he’d forced them to come here today. What if-

“Hey snakey wanna look at the modern art as well?” Remus interrupted.

“What?” 

Without realizing they’d gone through all of the classic art. Now they were in the last room with not much more than a giant painting the size of one of the walls and a bench.

“That sounds horrid!”

“Yay!”

Remus quickly continued of into the next exhibition. Janus still had the taste of lead filling his throat as he went to follow. Until he realized Remy wasn’t there. He turned around and saw them sitting on the bench in front of the painting. They were leaning their arms on their cane.

“It would probably give us a lot on the black market” Jan said while sitting down beside them.

“Mhm. It’s pretty. I just like wanted to look at it some more” They lied.

“Understandable” 

The painting was pretty much a big flower field with a summer sky shining down on it. Janus noticed how Remy forced deep breathes through their gritted teeth. Their brows were furrowed and their hands kept shaking.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course!” 

“I have some painkillers with me. Would that help agains the pain you’re totally not in?”

They glanced over to him “Girl what you doing walking around with painkillers?”

He looked at them with the most deadpan expression “Remy I’m overweight. You can not phantom how often I get knee pain" He took out a pill and held it out to them "Here"

"There's really like no need! I can like handle it"

Even more deadpan "You shouldn’t have to ‘handle it’. It's 1 painkiller dear. I'm not exactly becoming a saint because of this"

They hesitantly took it "Thanks"

He did fingerguns "No problemo"

They stayed sitting for a bit so the pill could kick in. Jan shuly glanced over to admire them every now and then. Remy kept looking down into the floor while picking at their skin.

“I’m sorry” They said it in a much quieter voice than their usual high pitched one “I tried to do everything right so I wouldn’t ruin everything. I even went to bed early so I wouldn’t get tired....I...I really looked forward to getting to be with you two”

Janus heart beat faster. He pulled himself together to comfort them “You haven’t ruined a thing”

They hid their face in their hands “I’ve been tired and out of it all day. I keep like slowing you down. Don’t think I haven’t like noticed how much you have to hold Rem back from going faster! I’ve just been making this all much worse than it should have been”

“Well you’re here aren’t you? I for one appreciate you simply being here. You don’t have to do anything to make me appreciate you, don’t even have to talk. I hope you know that”

“....really?”

“Oh no darling I totally expect you to win the nobel prize while in a kind of pain I can’t even imagine being in on a daily basis”

Remy chuckled “Thanks”

“There’s really no need for that. I am at any and all times doing the absolute minimum to be counted as a decent human being”

“Sure snakey-babey” They had a soft smile on their face.

They moved to hug him. Their arms wrapped around his back and they muffled their head right between his man titties. Janus sat still for a few seconds, too flustered to think before moving his arms around them as well. A hand on the back of their head, another on their lower back. Their skin felt so cold against his.

Remy closed their eyes and let themself calm down. They could feel Janus’ breathing against their hair.

“I think my fav like human part is the chest” They mumbled out “‘Cause I can hear the heart beat. It reminds me I’m- we’re still like alive”

“Like a bloody biological seashell”

“Exactly” They pressed themself closer. “I like being with you” It was nothing more than a whisper, like it was a secret “When you’re here I feel a bit less like a rotting corpse”

Janus held onto them harder “Well I-I try my best”

“I know babe”

His heart was beating out of his chest. The people around them must think they were a couple. He closed his eyes and focused on Remy’s touch, on Picani’s words from their last session. He managed to push enough of the shame away and focus on the happy butterflies in his stomach instead.

Remy moved away. The moment broke.

“We should probs go find Rem before he starts like eating the art”

“haha yeah” Janus did thumbs up but kept sitting. He’d gone full idiot.

It wasn’t until he saw Remy straining to stand up even with the cane his brain kicked back in.

“Is there some way I could help?”

They didn’t answer. But they did lean their arm around his shoulder to let him carry some of their weight. They slowly but surely made their way to the modern art exhibition.

Remus was sitting crosslegged in front of a weird statue, he was doodling in his sketchbook but shone up into a smile when he saw them.

“There you are! I was starting to think that either the zombie apocalypse had started or you were making out somehwere”

“Oh yeah babe. Full tounge” Remy joked back. Jan let out an inhumane noise.

He closed his sketchbook “I think we’re done here. You’re looking tired beanie. We can come back some other day”

Remy held back the urge to lie that they were fine. Instead they weakly nodded.

The gang left the museum. Right beside it was an ice cream shop. Remus got 3 scoops of a worryingly weird mix of flavors. Janus got 1 scoop of lemon. Remy didn’t feel like eating.

They sat down on a couple of benches right outside. Remy laid down with their head leaned onto Remus’ thigh. He chewed his ice cream while calmly moving his hand up and down their back.

Soon enough they were deep asleep. Janus quickly laid his jacket over their legs. He didn’t want to accidentally see anything under their skirt without their consent.

Remus stared at him like a blood sucking eagle while smiling “Soooo now when beanie is in dream land.......Do” He stopped to giggle “Janny. Janny. Do. Do you like someooooonnneee??”

Janus just blinked at him for half a minute. This was too much. This whole day was too much. He was a wreck. His crush was asking him THis?! While his other crush was laying in his crush’s lap?!?

“Why- Why- What- Who are you working for?! The fucking FBI??? Are they after me?” He desperately tried to joke it away.

“No. No. But seriously JanJan!” He wiggled his shoulders around in a stimmy way “Do you happen to like anyone with a name that starts on R????”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Janus kept glancing between his two crushes while his blushing could be seen out into space. He wanted to lie but his mouth wouldn’t move.

Remus leaned closer and whispered “You’re into Remy right?”

He nodded. A breathe of relief went through him. At least Remus didn’t know he liked him.

“OH I KNEW IT!” Remus yelled out in excitement while flapping his hands.

“Shh! Shh!” Janus scrambled to cover his mouth as Remy stirred for a moment. “Shhhh!” They cuddled closer to their friend and fell back asleep.

“I knew it!” He giggled “Or I mean Remy knew. They told me they thought you were into them”

“WHAT?!” 

Now it was Remus that covered his mouth. He was full on cackling “Yeah! They said it was really obvious! But good for you snakey! I’m sure if you murder their boyfriend you can get them in no time! Or you can become a fab homewrecker!! I can help you buy a nice sexy dress and all!!”

Janus paled in terror “How- In- What- In what way did they say it was obvious?”

“Oh y’know-”

The notif on his phone went off. He checked and his eyes went wide. He carefully moved Remy’s head onto the bench before standing up.

“Sorry snakey! Ro needs super duper emergency help! Gotta go!! See you later! Don’t die!”

Remus left him just like that.  Right after dropping THAT bomb on him. Janus sat unmoving. His mouth was slightly agape in shock. His thoughts were runnig around screaming nonstop.

He sat like that for over 20 minutes until Remy let out a yawn and slowly woke up. They took off their sunglasses to rub their eyes. Just seeing their vibrantly green eyes made Janus panic even more.

“Did Rem disintegrate?” Their voice was hoarse from sleepyness. Janus pinched himself to hold back the uhm feelings.

“He- he uh he went he went he sure did went yeah”

“....Cool!”

They stretched their joints, they all cracked. They looked to Janus and moved closer. He couldn’t breathe. They knew. They knew. They knew.

“Girl are you feeling okay?” They pressed their palm to his forehead “You’re like super hot. In both ways! Maybe you should like go home and rest. I gotta get home before my boyf gets home anyway”

“Y-yeah” Was all Janus could get out.

“Cool. OH! By the way! Girl!!! We haven’t like hung out just the two of us right?? We should tots do that! Just like tell me whatever you wanna do and we can do it!”

“Yeah”

“Awesome! Well I’ll see you on that hang out then”

They hugged him for just a few seconds but for those seconds Janus felt like he was in heaven.

They got up and left. Janus slumped over on the bench. His heart was going crazy. They knew. They knew and now they wanted to hang out alone with him. He turned to you. His eyes were wide and panicked.

Janus: “W-what am I supposed to do? I don’t know any good hang out plans! Do you know any??? I’m- this is all- how did they even know I like them! Oh I’m sounding like an overdramatic 13 year old.....This totally isn’t really overwhelming. I would hate getting Logan cuddles right now!”

[utterlyinevitable]

After seeing ur explanation for that anon i really want to see a fic or a hc of ethan as a dad and becca as mom can u please do it??

omg okay ahhh my babys having babies. this is gonna be long and idk if it’ll make sense bc imma jot down everything i know about domestic e&b.  

[just finished and... this is long and broken down into 6 categories........... enjoy!]

Ethan & Becca as Parents

The Pregnancy 

They didn’t plan on having children, it just kind of happened. Becca and Ethan took a day for the news to settle before they jumped into excited, expecting parents mode.

The most exciting part was renovating the condo to make the most perfect nursery and shopping for decorations and mentally planning all the traditions and things they’d love to give to their little family. 

All of the happiness couldn’t mask the struggles of pregnancy. 

Becca hated being pregnant. She was sick and nauseous constantly, and her back and feet always ached. 

Throughout the whole thing Ethan doted on her; holding her hair back and learning how to tie it up in the way she likes, rubbing her back, running out to get whatever she was craving. 

He even made copious amounts of notes about her eating patterns. Enough to keep two of everything in the condo. 

If she was having a restless night, he would too; even if she was restless for non-human-growing reasons. 

They were in this together.

And even when she was huddled over a garbage pail, dribble running down her chin, she never looked more beautiful to him. 

There was just something about all this that made him feel all weird and fuzzy inside. 

When her symptoms barely settled throughout the second trimester she overhauled her entire birthing plan. There was no way she was making it to 42 weeks. She was absolutely miserable. So she made a c-section appointment for 40 weeks. 

She had an entire argument with Ethan one evening (she really was only yelling while he nodded his head). Her main points were:  “It’s my body and the baby will be fine. I was born 6 weeks early and I turned out fantastic!” and  “Once the baby’s out of me I’m still going to have to pee. Omg what if she rips me open!? How am I supposed to use the bathroom without worrying about my stitches?”  

All he kept reiterating was:  “I love you. I trust you and your instincts.” 

Becca felt better as he held her face in his large hands, his calming azure eyes boring into hers and letting her know everything will be alight. 

But deep down she spent the next few weeks since making the appointment wondering if she should have given vaginal birth a try. She didn’t want Ethan to resent her for chickening out of her body’s natural function. 

The Birth 

Becca made it to her c-section appointment. Happily rubbing her large belly and glowing:  “I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore! Never do this to me again.” 

All Ethan did was chuckle. 

He was happy she was getting color back and that her symptoms finally settled enough for her to spend the last few weeks enjoying their daughters kicks. But oh my god was Ethan Ramsey terrified of being a father. 

He wouldn’t tell Becca though. She was emotional and worried enough as is. Any and all his concerns were saved for the short conversations he had with his father.  “Don’t overthink it, son. The moment you lay eyes on your daughter you’ll know what to do. It’s instinct. Biology. That was your best subject in school, wasn’t it?” Alan would joke.  

The surgery went off without a hitch. 

All of Becca’s hatred for the phenomenon of pregnancy vanished the second the nurse placed their daughter on her chest. 

Rebecca was in awe. She made that! This little person came out of her! This little pink person that looks like a plucked chicken with a tiny tuft of brown hair was here and she was beautiful. The perfect combination of her and Ethan. 

The embodiment of their love.   

Dakota Dolores Ramsey was completely unplanned. Unplanned but not unwanted.  

The first time Ethan Ramsey held his daughter time froze. The universe needed a minute to process the broad grin and full heart thumping rapidly from this stoic and reserved man. 

The earth was about to spin the wrong way but then Dakota opened her eyes.

Everything was the way divinity had planned it.  

At Home

Although Ethan and Becca lived a 10 minutes drive from Edenbrook, nearly a straight run, Becca forced him to drive as slow as possible. 

Dakota was asleep and she needed to keep it that way. 

Due to her stitches, Becca was forced to take things easy. No matter how many times she argued with Ethan that she was capable of menial tasks around the house. 

Ethan would not let her lift a finger. 

If Dakota needed a change he’d happily do it. if Becca was hungry he’d make her favorite. 

“You had her to yourself for nine months. Let me take the next few days.” Becca went to retort, all she wanted was to hold her baby for the rest of eternity. She’d never tire of looking at her scrunched up potato face and watching as her features changed every moment of every day. “I promise to share.” “You better,” she kissed him as he tucked her into bed for a much needed nap.

The only thing he was forced to share with his partner was feeding duty - Becca was adamant on breast feeding. A bottle would not touch their daughters lips for months to come. 

That in itself brought its own challenges. 

Most nights Ethan laid in bed with Becca curled up at his side in one arm and Dakota resting on his bare chest. 

Parenting was weird, but an exhilarating change. 

Ethan couldn’t diagnose what he could have possibly have done right in his life to be this wholly happy. 

The Second

Once Ethan and Becca had one child they were both itching for a second.

“You know what say: ‘if you have one you have to have two’.” “Is that so?”  “You don’t want Dakota to have a sibling?”  “I was an only child and look how I turned out.”  “Emotionally stunted and certified loner?” she teased. 

Truth be told, Ethan wanted another. He’s been thinking of giving his pride and joy a few siblings for weeks now. He just didn’t know how to tell Becca. 

Becca complained frequently about how happy she was to not be pregnant, and often about how her scar healed funnily. 

All of the signs pointed to her not wanting another. And Ethan was okay with that. He never expected to have one child. He’d cherish every moment of what’s been placed right in his fingertips. 

He’ll let his soon-to-be wife choose their path. She’s dictated everything else thus far. Ethan was elated she chose him to be along for the ride. 

After Dakota’s first birthday, when they made the decision to have another, they tried desperately to conceive.

“I really don’t want to have to deal with diapers for five years,” was Becca’s main reason for keeping the kids close in age.  “We can try surrogacy.” Ethan offered, knowing how much she hated pregnancy. He didn’t want to push her into anything.    “No. I have to do it. I’ll do it for our kids. But you owe me big time.”  

And 14 months later Caroline Marie Ramsey made her grand appearance. 

And Becca got her first push present. 

The Last 

It’s fitting that four years later Ethan and Becca were blessed with another surprise. 

Her pregnancy with James Jonah was the smoothest of them all. 

Of course that meant something had to go wrong. 

At 34 weeks Becca went into premature vaginal labor. 

Within six hours their baby boy arrived. 5lbs 2oz and looking like an alien. 

Ethan almost lost them both after the fact. 

Becca lost too much blood with the placenta and JJ was so tiny.  

But the Lao’s were fighters and they pulled through. Ethan cried at her bedside once the harrowing 24 hours were up. 

Becca stayed at the hospital for a week, Ethan and Alan bringing the girls to visit every single day. 

JJ had to stay a few days longer and Becca refused to leave until she could bring her son home. 

She went through her first experience with postpartum depression. Becca didn’t think anything could be worse than the mental toll her abortion had on her years earlier. But she was wrong.

She was so wrong. 

All their friends chipped in to help take care of the kids while Ethan devoted his time to helping his wife. The couple went to therapy, sometimes together, other times Ethan sat in the waiting room as Becca worked through her emotions. 

Months later, the parents were sitting at home. Ethan held their son and their daughters were curled on their laps: He muttered into his wife’s hair, “I’d like to have one more.”  “Not with me you’re not,” she scoffed. “We’re outnumbered as is.” 

JJ began to cry and the girls stirred. Dakota mumbling, “Tell the baby to shut up, I’m sleeping here.” 

They couldn’t help but laugh and pull apart to put their whole world to bed.  

Old and graying and spending more time at home with his kids, Ethan wanted just one more baby. Four was a strong, even number. He could have a whole daycare full of them - each one the best variations of him and Becca. 

Becca had spent a large portion of her 30s childrearing and she’s done. Done with diapers and formula, especially. She loves her children more than anything but they’re exhausting. She can’t wait for them to be in school full time and she can have some more alone time with her husband. It’s been so long since it’s been just them too.  

“Don’t hate me...”  “I could never hate you,” Ethan said as he brushed a few strands of hair from his wife’s face.  She swallowed and confidently said, “I want you to get a vasectomy.” 

He agreed without further consideration. She made a very compelling argument.  

Parenting 

Ethan is the doting helicopter dad and Becca is doctor drill sergeant. The kids get away with nothing under their mother’s watch. 

Ethan is very soft and adores his children. The grumpy attending could have a whole gaggle of them. He spoils his daughters rotten, picking up the newest doll and toy they’re obsessed with, and making them promise not to tell mommy. 

The women in Ethan’s life get away with everything and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When the girls were born, Ethan stepped back at work letting the better Dr. Ramsey have her career defining moments.

He took half days to pick the girls up from preschool and would bring them to the park or museums. He’d even try to teach them to cook their favorite recipes on cold, rainy days. He’d tire them out so that he and mom could tuck them in after dinner.

Ethan’s afraid of his son. He’s afraid the tot is going to turn out exactly like him - he’s the spitting image, except that his hair curls like his mother’s. 

Instead of putting JJ in fulltime daycare, Ethan chose part time preschool. The girls were in primary school now and he’s taken a bigger step back from the hospital after the baby was born. 

He devotes all his free time to teaching his son about all he knows and learning all he doesn’t.  

Becca complains about the state of her vagina and stomach all the time. Never in front of the children but often enough Ethan knows the look on her face right before she says the same two lines.  

Her favorite activity is building forts and taking the kids to the beach. 

The holidays have never felt more alive with the full house. Ethan even became a Christmas and Valentines Day lover. 

Becca loved watching him change over the years. Every new first they celebrated with each child, every one of their kids passions, Ethan would adopt them all and make it his mission to be a connoisseur of every facet.

Dakota sat her parents down one day with a serious topic of conversation: “Mommy, Daddy. I’m going to be a fashion designer.” “Will you?”  “Yes. And I need to dress myself.” “As long as it’s weather appropriate, consider it done.”  “And we need to get supplies.” 

The conversation went on for 15 minutes with Ethan and Becca asking questions and Dakota making demands. Once they’ve settled on an agreement on how to make their daughter’s dream happen, Ethan retired to his office. He taught himself the basics of sewing.     

Even with all the struggles of raising three children in a suburb of Boston while balancing very demanding medical careers, Ethan and Becca wouldn’t have it any other way. The life they carved out of all their complications was worth it.  

All of this was inevitable. 

And they wouldn’t take a moment for granted.    

________________________________________

Um... this became bigger than intended... If you made it this far, thank you ♥

Masterlist

Perma:

@rookiemarsswiftie @lucy-268 @binny1985 @thegreentwin @queencarb @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble e @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @adrex04 @maurine07 @mercury84choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @theeccentricbibliophile @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @kaavyaethanramsey @mvalentine @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine @lifeaskim @otherworldlypresents @therookie @aylaramseycarrera @angela8754 @fireycookie @stateofgracious

Ethan:

@udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @hutchereverlark23 @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy @claredal424 @caseyvalentineramsey @rookieoh @openheartthot @senseofduties @lilyvalentine @tsrookie @kalogh @aworldoffandoms @takemyopenheart t @casey-v @ramseyandrys @peaceinmidstofchaos

[procrastinatorimagines]

Okay Part 6

Fandom: Chicago Fire / One Chicago

Series: Okay

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Pairing: Matt Casey x Halstead!Reader

Warning/s: assault, murder, kidnapping

Word Count: 1,369

Summary:  After narrowly escaping certain death you decided to turn your life around and become a firefighter, and although it wasn’t easy, you survived your first week at 51. Now, the strange circumstances of your very first fire lead you to a second, deadlier act. As you dig deeper, aided by your brothers and your new firehouse, you begin to realise just how in over your head you might be.

Tags: @alievans007​ // @louiselikeswriting​ // @killjoys-make-some-noise-na-na​

Lily may have been missing, but the world kept turning. 

Sat in Casey’s office only half way through the longest shift of your life you nervously bit at your nails, something you hadn’t done since you were a kid. You’d been in and out of Boden’s office all day, discussing what to do and comparing notes with Adam and Kim when they came to reinterview both you and Casey about everything you knew. 

The dodge charger had been found torched, no evidence left and no cameras in the area. It felt like the world was working against you. 

Casey had let you stay in his office most of shift, too distracted himself to properly focus on his paperwork in between the few calls you had. You actually wished you’d had more, at least then you could put your mind to something other than the worry that had gripped you. Why would her own father do this?

“This is a recovery isn’t it? Not a rescue,” you blurted out, the thought bouncing around painfully in your skull all night and day, unable to contain it any longer. Casey looked up from where he was trying to write out the same report he’d been filing since the last call, surprised by your out burst.

“We can’t think like that Y/N,” he shut you down immediately, turning his chair around to face you where you sat crosslegged on his bunk, probably a little too casual for your Captain’s office, but these were unusual circumstances. 

You swallowed, knowing he was right, but unable to do anything else but think like that. So you decided not to tell him that you were going to ask Jay for some time alone with the guy when Intelligence caught him. 

“I asked a friend at the SA’s office to look into the divorce,” Casey revealed, fully grabbing your attention as your hand dropped from your mouth. “Anna Valdez, she told me that the dad, Paul, was the one that filed for divorce, accused his wife of not being faithful, that Lily apparently wasn’t his.”

“What, that’s why he’s doing this? I don’t condone adultery but murder? And how would that be Lily’s fault, she didn’t chose to be born?” Your outrage was growing with each new question, probably mirroring how Casey had felt when he’d heard the news. 

“That’s the thing,” Casey continued, “there was never actually a DNA test done, it was all just his speculation and paranoia by the sounds of it, Lily’s mother got custody because he was becoming more and more... unhinged,” he explained.

“How does he still have parental rights?” You asked.

“It’s not that simple, her mom didn’t want to take it too far, she got full custody but he still had visitation rights, and he’s legally still her closest family, he just chose to move out of the state,” Casey informed you, shaking his head about the whole situation. 

A silence followed, having a lot to think about now. This was... what? Revenge? He blamed Lily’s mother for betraying him, but why go after Lily? Could a person’s resentment really be that strong? You still had a lot to learn, but you couldn’t image dealing what Jay did everyday, seeing the worst of humanity like this all the time would be too much for you.

“We need to go back there after shift, turn over every stone again-” you began, basically juat rambling your thoughts at this point, not even entirely directed at Casey, as you stared off into the middle distance.

“Y/N, the police are already on that,” Casey tried to get your attention, sympathy creeping into his voice as he looked at the bags under your eyes and the worry unmasked on your face.

“Well then we’ll go back to the scenes of the fire-” you kept going, not listening.

“Y/N-”

“-or the hospital-”

“Y/N-”

“-maybe the dad has friends in Chicago we could talk to-”

“Y/N!” Casey snapped, raising his voice and grabbing both your shoulders, making you jump as your rambling stopping in its tracks. Your eyes snapped to his, looking into each others eyes for a second before Casey continued.

“You’re tired, we both are, maybe you should focus on taking care of yourself,” he said softly, continuing as you opened your mouth to protest, practically reading your mind, “Jay will call if he has anything, you know he will.”

“I can’t do nothing,” you protested weakly, shoulders deflating.

“You’d done a lot Y/N,” Casey insisted, “you haven’t even been on this job a full two weeks yet, you need rest.” There was a silence as you took in what he’d said, breaking when Casey realised his hands were still on your shoulders, dropping them quickly and moving back in his chair as he cleared his throat.

The bell went off before anything else could be said, both of you making your way to truck, glad for the change of pace and much needed distraction.

-

You were out of the firehouse the second shift ended, barely acknowledging anyone else, even Casey, as you waved a general ‘goodnight’ to everyone. 

Casey’s advice may have been sound, but you were a Halstead.

As soon as you reached your car and sat down you paused, trying to sort out your full head of thoughts. Where would Paul go? If he blames Lily for everything going wrong in his life, maybe he’d take her to where it all went wrong? You reasoned, cogs spinning in your brain.

You reached over to passangers seat, the files for the case organised and on hand should you need them. A quick check of background information told you that there was a previous house listed, the first house they’d bought together just before Lily was born, and it wasn’t too far from the station.

Intelligence had surely checked it out, but it wouldn’t hurt to swing past, and then you swore to yourself you’d follow Casey’s advice and head home to try to get some shut eye. Try being the key word. 

One quick stop, you reminded yourself as you drove off, soon finding yourself pulling up on the otherside of the road to the property. At first you didn’t see anything, just a quiet house, and were about to pull away when you caught movement in the front window. Just a glimpse, and the flick of a light, but it was enough to make you double check the file. 

The property was supposed to be vacant.

The sun had basically set, so you had some cover of darkness, but still you made sure you were careful. Quietly stepping out of the car and moving your way slowly towards the side of the house with that genetic brand of Halstead common sense, you told yourself you’d just take a peak, just to confirm if you even saw anything, and definitely if it was Paul and Lily.

Then, then you’d make a call. Your phone was out of your pocket by the time you reached the side of the house, careful not to be seen as you crouched slightly on the otherside of the window. For some reason your mind had gone to Casey before Jay, thumb hovering over the dial button as you peered inside. 

You didn’t see anything, but you smelt it. It was that same smell, the smell that took your mind back to that basement, to Lily in her little room in the wall, a smell that had you taking steady breaths to try and keep calm as you call Casey.

It was still ringing quietly when you head a crunch behind you, whirling around just as you felt a sharp pain on the side of your head, crumpling to the ground as you phone eventually clicked on. You wanted to speak, call out for help, but all you could do was lie there as you vision quickly faded and unconsciousness took you.

-

“Y/N? Y/N? Is everything okay? Are you there?” There was only silence in response, followed by a crunch as the line went dead, an automated voice telling Casey that the number he was trying to reach had been disconnected. 

The silence that followed was deafening.

[lilyharvord]

Would u consider writing a marecal fic where Mare gets pregnant without knowing in the middle of everything and then has a miscarriage during like a battle scene and she’s all confused and hurting and Cal is freaking out and then he helps her through it??

May I... may I interest you perhaps in Cal not knowing at all?... And it’s sort of in the middle of everything sort of not.... and she loses the baby while she’s alone? Um...so yeah, for some reasons I couldn’t stop thinking about that scene in The Help while I thought about this ask, so here we are...  wow this shit was sad... ): 

Closing the door as softly as he could behind him, Cal smiled to himself before softly setting his bag down next to the end table that took up more space in the tiny hallway than necessary. Edging forward to glance around the corner at the living room, his smile slowly died when he realized it empty. 

There was a set of schematics on the beat up coffee table, and a cup of tea next to it though. 

Stepping completely into the room, he ran his hands along the worn back of the couch, and glanced at the papers. They appeared to be a set of battle plans for an assault on a Lakeland stronghold. Tyton’s name was even signed at the bottom of them. Cal flipped the folder closed, not to stop him from looking at it though. The door was unlocked, which meant anyone could have been here. Gisa could have walked from her shop a few blocks over, or Ruth could have swung by and dropped off the tea leaves from the little terrace garden she kept. Neither of them had clearance for those files, and if they had seen them it put them at risk.  

“Mare?” Cal called softly, and regretfully. He hoped that his visit would be a surprise. He had a whole evening planned. First he’d surprise her here, then they’d take a walk into downtown Ascendent, and then he’d buy her dinner at her favorite restaurant on the lake. Plan never lasted the first ten minutes of battle. He found himself repeating that phrase more and more lately. 

When there was no reply, he walked back into the hallway and poked his head into the kitchen. The tea box was open, and he took the two steps it always took him to reach the counter. Mare’s shoebox apartment sometimes drove him insane, simply because it was so small they were always on top of each other when he stayed here. But it felt oddly empty without her loud personality filling it right that second.  

He set his hand on the kettle and lifted the lid. It was still practically full, and the water was hot. She had just poured her tea and sat down... he smiled and then gently closed the lid and spun around to search the kitchen. 

“I told you once that I was a good hunter. I still am a very good hunter, and if you want to be found...” trailing off with a smile, he edged back into the hallway and walked towards her bedroom. Opening the door quickly, he almost jumped into the space. The bed was mussed, she obviously hadn’t made it this morning, and her sleeping clothes were thrown on the chair near the window, but there was no sign of her. 

Now he just felt stupid for calling out like he did. 

Something clattered in the bathroom, something heavy. It almost made him jump out of his skin. “Mare?” He called to her. When she did’t reply, he crossed the room to the worn bathroom door. He remembered having to sand it down when she first moved in because the last tenant had left it a mess. 

The handle stuck when he turned it, and he tried it twice more before recognizing that it was locked. Knocking softly and calling through the wood, he tried to keep his worry out of his voice. “Mare are you okay?”

“Yes. Fine. Just need... a few minutes. Go to Gisa’s shop and wait for me.” 

HIs brows drew together when he heard the strain in her voice. Turning away from the door he crossed to the nightstand on the other side of her bed where he thought she kept the emergency key to unlock any door in the house. The landlord had warned her it was an old house and the doors tended to lock on their own and that it was best if she kept that key on her at all times just in case. 

Before he could open the door, there was another heavy clatter followed by a something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Spinning on his heel, he dropped his shoulder as he hit the door as hard as he could. It splintered under his weight and he ended up almost spilling onto the ground when he fell through. 

He managed to catch himself on the sink but the first thing he still noticed was the metallic reek of blood that permeated from almost every direction in the bathroom.

“Get out! Get out Cal!” Mare screamed as she threw part of the towel rack that had fallen to pieces around her at his head. He barely managed to dodge it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the puddles of blood around the tiny bathroom. His heartbeat was practically in his throat as he slowly raised his eyes to see Mare curdled up on the floor against the edge of the bathtub, her face red and tear streaked. She looked terrified, or perhaps sick. All the color was gone from her face, and that scared him more than anything. 

Hesitantly, so he didn't touch anything around his feet, he slowly crouched down, searching Mare for a wound. There’s wasn't a visible one that could have possibly spilled that much blood. 

“There’s so much blood. I didn’t think there’d be so much.” Mare hiccuped before gripping her hair in one hand and clenching it into a fist. When she closed her eyes, more tears rolled down to the join the others in neck of her thick sweater. 

“Hey, okay, it’s...” was it going to be okay? Cal didn’t think that was best thing to say anymore, so he slowly rose to step over the blood and join Mare on the other side of the puddles. 

“I lost it.” Mare whispered as he slowly sank down onto the floor with her. “I lost it.” She repeated once more when he slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brought her towards him so she could bury her face in his neck.

 Her face was burning against his still wind kissed skin. Glancing around the bathroom once more, Cal slowly began piecing things together. His stomach dropped to his knees when he reached the obvious conclusion, but he didn’t dare say anything in case it made this whole thing worse for Mare who seemed to have finally quieted in his arms. 

“I barely had it,” she croaked, “I didn’t even know if it was a boy or--or a girl. It didn’t even have fingers or toes.” 

He ran his hand up and down her back slowly, trying to keep her sobs at bay. She didn’t seem in danger of dropping into hysterics, but then again, Mare had always been spectacular at hiding how close she was to the edge. 

“I told Gisa... and she told my mom.” This time a tiny sob escaped. “I told Sara I was coming to see her tomorrow.” 

“Let’s get you in a warm bath.” Cal whispered against her temple. He pulled a hand away to stretch and turn the bath on when she didn’t protest. She only curled his jacket into her fist, but didn’t say anything else, not even when he slowly lifted her to remove her shirt and the remainder of her undergarments. Tossing them into the corner, he slowly wrapped an arm under her legs and lifted her off of the ground. Steam rolled out of the bath and around the room, fogging the mirror. The room was horrible at ventilating, it always had been. It drove him insane when he showered because it was like stepping out into a muggy Archeon day when he finished. 

Setting Mare in the water, he picked up a towel and set it over the largest puddle of blood before grabbing one of the small washcloths. When he turned around, Mare had drawn her knees up to her chest and was staring blankly at the other side of the bath. 

Dunking the cloth in the water, Cal sank to his knees outside of the bath before pressing it to the base of Mare’s neck. Squeezing it to run the water down her back, he whispered, “The next one...” he swallowed, realizing the mistake, and ended up biting his tongue. After this traumatic incident, he highly doubted there would be another one ever again. 

“I dreamed it was a boy two nights ago,” Mare’s spoke as if she hadn’t even heard him. Then again, maybe she hadn’t, because her lips had curled up at the edges into a whimsical smile that made him pause from wiping the cloth up and down her back. She closed her eyes and expelled a long sigh along with one more tear. He tracked its path as it rolled down her cheek, counting the long seconds that she sat in silence. The last thing he wanted to do now was say something that pushed her deeper into this terrible moment. 

When she spoke again, it was with a crushed whisper. “I’d already named him Shade.” Her shoulders caved with the name, and she dropped her head to rest it on her knees, as if suddenly the weight of that idea, or dream had become too much. Dropping the cloth into the water, he replaced it with his hand on her neck, caressing the heavy branching scars there. 

 “Then we’ll bury him by the lake. Near your favorite tree.” He whispered, and she finally turned blank eyes on him. He’d seen a similar ache in those eyes before, when she’d lashed out on the Blackrun, and when she’d stared him down on a balcony after making a decision that had almost ruined his life. It was a bone deep sorrow, an ache for a future that could never exist. 

He gave her a halfhearted smile in response, and she nodded before reaching out with a dripping hand to cup his cheek. Water rolled down and droplets landed on his pant leg, and still he couldn’t pull his eyes from her face. She returned his smile, but that look didn't leave her eyes. 

Reaching up, Cal closed his hand around hers and slowly brought her fingers to his lips. “I’m here. For as long as you need me to be, I am here.” And in that boiling bathroom, surrounded by smoke, he let unspoken words hang between them. 

And I will be there long after you no longer do. 

[batarella]

The Commander - Part 11 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

This part has the most character development for our Commander here. the good stuff is about to begin. BUCKLE UP.

WORDS: 3356 WARNINGS: DEATH. AND JASON FLUFF BECAUSE WE ALL NEED THAT

Masterlist

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

The sun never shined this brightly into her room before.

Beauty. Perfection.  Bewitching, captivating beauty.

Y/N couldn’t help but run a finger across his stubble. Jason was still asleep, facing her. He never looked so peaceful with his mouth slightly parted and the muscles on his face relaxed. It was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes.

It was like waking up in a lone bed by a lake. A clear, turquoise lake with a silent waterfall at the far back. With so much green around her, she couldn’t breathe any speck of corrupted air. There would be no one else but her, and she’d jumped into the cool waters. Nothing else in her mind, but the feel of it calming her skin.

She didn’t want to get up. Not even if she needed to.

And today, she really needed to.

Today, the wretched, horrible day.

October 31st.

Their last day at the barracks in Venezuela. By noon, they’d have cleared the building. By sundown, all units should have boarded the jets.

By 19:00 tonight, they arrive at Gotham.

But Jason. Jason. Jason. Jason. He was still asleep. She didn’t want to just wake him up. The last time he spent the night, she woke up alone in a wrecked bed.

Jason’s eyes slowly parted open, and immediately, he smiled at the sight of her like she was the sun.

God, he had her heart in such a twist.

Y/N inched nearer to him and placed the softest kiss on his lips. He groaned, with the same sexy voice he always had after waking up.

And it was like the waterfall fell harder into the lake, the sounds becoming more eminent and the water so much colder, sinking into her flesh.

He reached for her hair, letting her locks tangle into his fingers. Y/N closed her eyes with her nose touching his lips. Jason kissed her again, and very slightly pulled away.

“I’d love stay in, but we have to go,” she reluctantly said.

It was over too soon. The five minutes she had, an escape from who she was, what she had to do to live. This was all it was. He nodded and sat up. Jason swung his legs over the bed and grabbed his pants on the floor.

Y/N did the same, walking over to her closet and picking out a fresh set of clothes. “I’ll go out first. Wait a few minutes until everyone else had cleared the quarters then you walk out.”

Jason laughed, like what she said was just adorable. After placing both arms through the holes on her jacket, she walked up to Jason, still sitting on the bed, and he craned his head to look up at her. Y/N held his face.

“Tonight, I’m just the commander.”

He slowly stood up, “You’re never just the commander.” His lips met her forehead and he walked over to pick up his shirt and hoodie, putting them on. Y/N walked to the door, barely opening it just to squeeze herself up.

She took one last look at Jason.

“Ten minutes.”

He gave her the best smile she’s seen in her life, with his teeth showing and his eyes all crinkled up at the corners.

Jason was the best thing that ever happened to her.

Y/N smiled back and closed the door.

Xxxxxx

Five hundred, seventy-two soldiers.

Five hundred, seventy-two rifles strapped to their upper bodies.

The Knight’s insignia, painted over their arms, and their uniforms the same red as the sirens. And on their faces, a gas mask covering the whole of their faces.

Five hundred, seventy-two units, in ten straight columns, all facing the platform where the woman in command, the Militia Commander, was standing.

She waited for the siren to come to a halt. This was their last assembly, a little past noon. A short while after this, they board the jets.

“PORT ARMS.”

The rifles were brought to the front of their bodies. The Commander’s arms were behind her back. She watched for any movement out of place. So far, there weren’t any.

“RIGHT SHOULDER ARMS.”

All arms parallel to the floor, the rifles were brought to rest on their shoulders.

“PORT ARMS.”

“ORDER. ARMS.”

The rifles were brought to the floor, with their one hand holding it up.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

This was her biggest task to date.

Fifteen thousand dollars a day. For twelve weeks. That was what Jason promised her, to be given at the end of the night.

The Militia Commander’s face never faltered when her voice echoed throughout the halls.

“SIXTEEN COUNT. MANUAL ARMS.”

Five hundred seventy-two men. And not a hair out of sync.

At the front lines were the soldiers, including the checkpoint commanders. More than three hundred of them. Behind them, the brutes. Then the combat experts armed with swords. Finally, the medics stood at the far back.

Everything they’ve done, the build-up from the weeks of training. It all boils down to this night.

It started with Scarecrow releasing his first dose of the toxin in Pauli’s Diner, where a police officer shot five people and the rest dead from being mauled by their own friends and family. Then Crane sent out his warning. ‘Tomorrow, this will seem like child’s play.’

By now, the whole of Gotham will have been evacuated, save for the criminals, the thugs, the people with no other places to be.

They had the whole night. And with the five hundred soldiers in front of her, Gotham City will be theirs.

Jason stepped beside her. By the time the rifles came at a halt, the commander smiled. He turned his head to her, nodding.

“SQUAD ALPHA, AT EASE. ALL UNITS REPORT TO THE JETS AT 15:00 HOURS.”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

Like a final battle cry, her soldiers moved in orderly lines to the gates. They only had two hours and they leave the barracks for good. This morning they boarded all the drones and weapons caches left until the building looked nothing short of abandoned.

She stepped out the platform and grabbed her duffel bag sitting on the floor. There was a slight buzzing, coming from inside the biggest pocket. Placing it back on the floor, she opened it and dug out her clothes.

A sudden tightness came from her chest when she pulled out her phone. It was vibrating.

No.

Fucking no.

Before she flew to South America, she’d blocked her location, any tracking that could possibly affect her or the militia. She blocked every number possible. No one would be able to reach her no matter how much hacking had to take place.

All except one contact.

And she told that person never to call unless she absolutely had to.

Her fingers were shaking when she pressed the button to answer it.

“Susan?”

Jason went up to her, and she kept her eyes on him as she spoke. He pushed his visor open. He could tell something was wrong.

Susan, her uncle’s ex-wife. Y/N could hear her breathing on the other end, and she heard sobs. She knew her aunt could hear her.

“Susan, what’s going on?”

She heard her cry her name, in the softest voice. Like it would break if it were any louder. She heard Susan take a deep breath, and for a while, she was silent.

“Floyd is dead….”

She couldn’t see her own face.

And every word her aunt said after that, she couldn’t hear.

The marching of five hundred men, she couldn’t hear.

Her own breath, she couldn’t feel.

Like the clouds had stopped moving, and the air sucked into a vacuum. It was a messy blur, and the noise that just kept blowing into her ear. An empty, horrible noise. Like an inaudible screaming that sounded much like her own voice.

Susan was bawling at the other end of the phone. Eventually, Y/N heard a dead ringing. She dropped her phone to the ground.

Jason must’ve heard, because he looked just as distraught as she did.

“Y/N-“

“I have to go…”

To the empty rooms. To the abandoned training grounds. Anywhere. She just needed to move. Anything else and the ground would shake beneath her feet and pull her to the mantles. The floor wouldn’t stop spinning, and she had to keep herself up with her hand against the wall. Move. Move. Move. Where the noises wouldn’t reach her and the colors weren’t so loud.

She should have known. Floyd’s thinning hair, his boney physic, the slightest limp when he was escorted into the visiting area in Belle Reeves. And even before that, how he narrowly missed a shot, he wouldn’t stop beating himself over it. How he talked to her like it was the last time, how she never visited him again.

It was all there. How did she not see it.

‘A tumor. Right in the temple. There was no way he could have been saved. Not even if he wasn’t in prison.’

Her feet wouldn’t stop moving, not even when the walls looked crooked, moving closer together like it was to trap herself within them.

Y/N found herself in the combat grounds.

And by the doorway, her body sank. She took the rifle from her back and slammed it against the steel grounds.

And she released the same wordless cry that was inside her head, but much louder. Her cracked voice bounced off to the walls, louder and louder in search for any release of the painful tightness in the pit of her chest.

There was so much noise, yet so much silence. It was all at the same time. Like the wind was blowing right into her but she couldn’t find any air to breathe.

Her hands gripped on the rifle, her tears landing on the muzzle as her screams faded into echoes. She screamed again, and again, so much the twisting reached her throat. Her voice gave out and no longer could she cry. She fell to the floor, silent.

‘Breathe in. Breathe out.’

Her uncle’s voice, the same one she hears every time she fired a shot.

‘Breathe in. Breathe out, Y/N’ Floyd said. ‘Fire.’

She did as he would have told her. She slowed her heartbeat. She counted her breaths. She focused on the wall opposite of her. Farther. Focus. Focus.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Two arms wrapped around her, pulling her head onto his shoulder. Jason buried his head into her neck. She laid there, close to lifelessness, and stared at the ground. Jason pulled her even tighter.

“I’m here…”

Y/N let the tears fall, even on his armor. But she didn’t move. Even for a long while, none of them moved.

“You two kids done?”

Deathstroke. He was behind her.

“Slade-.”

“Squads Alpha through Foxtrot have boarded the jets. We need to go. Commander-“

Jason unwillingly pulled away. “Lawton. He’s dead.”

Her eyes stayed on the floor. She couldn’t see Deathstroke’s reaction.

“Deadshot?”

Jason nodded. He took both Y/N’s hands and slowly pulled her to stand up. “Come on, Y/N, we have to go.”

“Get over it, kid,” Slade said. “Your mentor had it coming.”

And her next move, no one even predicted. Jason didn’t move fast enough when the Commander charged for Deathstroke – fucking Deathstroke- holding his neck with her arm against the cement wall.

“Y/N!”

“He was my uncle, you son of a bitch.”

“I thought you hated him,” Slade said, pushing her away. Jason stood between her and Deathstroke, but even he wasn’t so sure if he was protecting her from Slade, or the other way around.

“Enough-“

“He raised me.”

Slade didn’t have an ounce of empathy. “Did he raise you? Or train you? There’s a difference. You barely have a life outside your firearms.”

“I kill only when I have to-“

“How many lives have you taken, huh?” Deathstroke was provoking her. “The same as I have.”

“That’s because a third of the people you’ve killed are innocent!”

“Commander! Slade!” Jason pushed her from stepping too close to the old man.

“Get your head back into the field, Commander,” Slade said. “We’re not about to drop everything because of you.”

She threw Jason’s hand away, then stormed out of the combat grounds.

“Where are you going?”

The Commander walked to the dark meeting room. The floor stopped spinning, and the walls stopped moving. Everything was silent now. Even Jason’s footsteps trailing just behind her. She walked into the room and Jason caught the door before she’d slammed it behind her. She sat on the chair, her head in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry…”

Jason kneeled in front of her and took her hands away from gripping her own hair too much. She was shaking, and her flesh felt dead cold. He took her face in his hands. “I’m here. Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry.”

“He was dying. The last time I saw him- God, I can't get his voice out of my head.”

“I know. I know,” he pulled her close and she had it in her to hug him back. “Don’t worry about the militia. Don’t worry about Slade. Just look at me. Look at me.”

She did, and she felt his lips against her forehead, so soft she could break from it.

“You can stay behind if you want. You don’t have to force yourself. We can handle this. You’ve done more than enough, Commander Y/N.”

She pulled him closer and sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m sorry-“

He shushed her, then let her cry in his arms.

He was dead. Floyd Lawton was dead. Her phone blocked any of his calls. He could have called her days ago. Yesterday. Calling to say goodbye. And she didn’t let him.

Her mentor. Her Father. The one she wasn’t born with. The man who took her in after his sister, her mother, didn’t want her. The man who raised her and loved her in his own way.

Jason didn’t let her go. Her tears had soaked his shoulder. Never, not even by herself, has she cried so much. She’s never experienced death, not when she never had many people close to her to begin with.

Is this how people feel? The friends and families of the hundreds of people she’s killed. Is this how they cope? After she’d fired the shot?

Has she caused hundreds, maybe thousands, so much pain? The same she felt right now?

His hand stroked her back. “Here,” Jason slightly pulled away. He handed her phone with a slightly cracked screen. “Call her.”

Her.

Of course.

Her. She grabbed her phone, and Jason nodded. He sat beside her while she found the contact and called.

The light of her life. The only good, most precious thing in the world before she met Jason. The one thing she always fought for. The one person she will never let darkness touch. Her.

She’d have heard the news by now. Every ring on her phone made her heart beat a little faster. Then she heard her sweet voice.

“Y/N?”

“Zoe…” Y/N cried, and she felt Jason’s hand wrap tighter around hers. He kept his eyes on her, and whenever he did, she calmed. “Zoe, I’m here…”

Her little cousin, who should be twelve years old by now. Who wasn’t much of a cousin as she was her sister. Zoe looked up to her like she was the best, most perfect woman in the world.

It was the other way around. Zoe was her happiness.

“Zoe…”

“Dad is gone,” she heard her say. Her voice was deeper, no longer the child she’d endlessly play with.

Y/N closed her eyes, the tears never-endingly dropping down her cheeks.

“Zoe, I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“You never visit anymore…”

“I know, monkey.” That was what she called her. Monkey. “But I’ll be there. And I’ll visit every week from now on.”

“You said that last time.”

She felt Jason’s thumb rub against the back of her hand, and she held it even tighter. His lips found her temple.

“I know. But I mean it this time. I promise.”

Floyd would want that. He loved his daughter more than anything. He’d want Y/N to take care of her.

“Promise…”

“Yes,” she said. “I promise. And I’ll buy you any toy you want. Every single week. You name it.”

“I’m twelve, Y/N. I don’t want toys anymore.”

“Of course,” she coughed a laugh. “Of course. Anything you want then. Books. Clothes. I’m rich now,” she glanced at Jason, who also managed a smile.

“You are?”

“Yes,” she wiped the tears away. Just the sound of her voice, everything felt better. “I have to go now, monkey. Can you give your phone to your mom, please?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Zoe.”

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

There was ruffling, then she heard her aunt’s voice.

“Susan. Where are you?”

“We’ve evacuated the city. We’re in Bludhaven.”

Jason just watched her, and she went on telling her aunt what was about to happen. It was difficult to ask that from them. Especially right now.

But they had to go.

Y/N hang up on the phone. And instantly, she went back into Jason’s arms.

“Wait for me at the jet. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Jason cupped her cheek. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be okay.”

He kissed her forehead, then her lips. Just one sweet kiss. He held both her hands and squeezed them tight.

“Don’t take long.”

She nodded, then Jason left the room, closing the door behind him.

And there was silence, save for a voice whispering into her ear.

It was what he’d want. What he always wanted for her.

Y/N breathed in, then her eyes darted over to the duffel bag.

He was preparing for this moment. That’s why he gave it to her. He knew he was dying.

With the slightest hesitation, she pried the pockets open until she reached the deepest compartment, one she hadn’t touched unless she absolutely needed to.

Floyd never gave her an alter ego. He taught her everything he knew, and made her do it exactly as he would.

He always called her his heir.

She opened the pocket, and a deep red peered out.

Y/N emptied the contents, took everything with her and went for the locker rooms. He gave these to her before he was arrested. She told him she didn’t want it, but her uncle was persistent.

It was the least she could do.

Dull red leather, a suit specially made for her, and silver plates for her shoulders, chest, arms, and lower body. Tight black boots, strapped up to her leg. A gun wrapped around her wrist, this time big enough to fire the same bullets as an M99 sniper. Another gun on her other hand, her rifle.

She faced the mirror.

Then she pulled the white mask over her head.

And staring at her reflection was the bright red light, glowing from the gun optics attached to her right eye.

Floyd Lawton never wanted her to be a sidekick. He wanted Y/N to be HIM after he was gone.

She stormed out the building, out into the hangar where the final jet was about to take off. The aircraft’s exit gate was wide open, leading up to the back where thirty of her men were strapped to the seats.

The Arkham Knight and Deathstroke awaited her at the entrance. The moment she stepped in, the gate folded back up and the jet prepared for take off.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Three hours, and she could feel the jet descending. The Arkham Knight, Deathstroke, and the Commander stood at the front lines where the gate at the back of the jet slowly descended.

She was the woman who led an army of five hundred seventy-two units, mercenaries recruited from all places around the world.

She was the woman about to take control over the City of Gotham, to take Batman head on.

She was the Commander to the Arkham Knight’s Militia.

The red on her optics burned bright at the first taste of Gotham’s darkness.

She was Deadshot.

-----

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

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Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo 

[triggerlil]

Drarry, fluff, 27 please! 😍

This was so fun to write Rae!! Hope you enjoy :) 

--

Scorpius puffed out his cheeks, rolling a muggle toy car across the ground petulantly.

“What’s the matter, Scorpius?” Harry asked, laying on his stomach next to the blond boy. Toys were strewn around the room, the two of them having gotten up to large amounts of havoc while Draco did work in the kitchen. Scorpius had turned five recently, and had been a bugger to deal with, so Harry had agreed to come keep him occupied. Give Draco a few hours of peace to get through his ever-lengthening to-do list.

The world from the ground felt different, everything huge and looming, yet not in a threatening way. He tried to remember what it had felt like to be this small naturally, but could only dredge up images of mangled toy soldiers and dust. Laying down on the hardwood floor felt like the opposite. It was relaxing, his cheek resting on his crossed arms, glasses skewed, as he let Scorpius occupy himself. Occasionally, he would lazily turn a building block on its head, flick the bristles of Scorpius’ toy broom, but he was happy doing absolutely nothing.

Now though, it was obvious that something was on Scorp’s mind, his pale brows furrowed, tiny pink lips pursed in an imitation of his father.

“Why do you weave?” Scorpius asked, and Harry felt his heart soften.

“I can’t stay here all the time Scorp,” he said, “I have my own home.”

“Where?” It always surprised Harry how curious he was, he wondered if Draco had been the same, constantly badgering his stuck up parents with questions about the world and its many surprises.

“In a house, you’ve been there.”

Scorpius huffed, pushing the car harder into the floor, “wonewy house.”

“I live alone, but that’s why I come visit you and your dad.”

Scorpius looked at him, his grey eyes piercing, “Why don’t you wive with us?”

“Because this is your house, for you and your dad, he wouldn’t want me here all the time.”

“He would!” Scorpius insisted, “He’s sad without you!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbows. “What do you mean, Scorp?”

“Papa is sad when you weave, and always dress up for when you come!” He said it as if this was it, the words that would convince Harry to move in. He could hear Draco sifting through paper in the kitchen, but then his chair scraped back, and his feet were padding towards the living room.

“Well I wouldn’t want your handsome dad to be lonely, now would I?”

“I heard that, Harry!”

Harry looked up as Draco entered the room, his hair swept back from his forehead, almost golden in the afternoon light streaming through the window. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing his pale chest and a small slice of silver peeking out from behind the fabric. That inch of torn skin caught Harry’s breath in a way it hadn’t before. 

He grinned. “You were supposed to.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, walking forward and sitting down cross-legged on the floor, carding his hand through Scorpius’ hair.

“What have you been telling Harry? Hm?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

Scorpius shrugged, as if he would somehow get in trouble, and Harry laughed.

“He thinks I should move in, because apparently you’re lonely without me. That true, Draco?”

Harry wanted to bask in the pink blush that was creeping up Draco’s neck, the sliver of silver even more noticeable against his flushed skin. If Harry didn’t leave, if he never left again, would he be allowed to undo the rest of those buttons? See where the scars led, trailing down Draco’s chest and abdomen, potentially running farther, down his hips and thighs. If he asked to stay, would Draco let him?

“I just like hosting guests.”

“I didn’t realize I qualified as a guest.”

“Right, because you’re here so often, like a little vermin.”

“Says the little ferret…”

Draco pushed his shoulder lightly, a playful movement, something that should have been casual. Draco’s hand lingered on Harry’s shoulder, as if feeling the bone and muscle underneath, his eyes stuck on Harry’s torso. Was he wondering what would happen if Harry stayed? Was he wondering if Harry would let him put his hands under his shirt, feel his skin beneath his fingertips? Because he would let him, if he was allowed to stay.

Suddenly Scorpius lunged himself at Harry’s lap, nuzzling into his chest, pushing Draco’s arm away.

“I won’t gwet up,” he said, “unwess you stay!” He looked at his father with a devilish grin that Harry hadn’t thought a five-year-old would be capable of, and Draco rolled his eyes, now the petulant child in the room. Suddenly Harry saw the Scorpius in Draco, as he so often saw Draco in Scorpius.

“I’ll sleepover, if it’s alright with your father…” Harry grinned, looking at Draco over the top of Scorpius’ head, wrapping his arms around the boy and hugging him close. Being Scorpius’ favourite person after Draco and his late mother was about to have a lot of benefits.

“I suppose… if Harry would like to, he can sleepover.”

“I would indeed like to,” Harry smiled, “we could watch a movie, I make good popcorn.”

Draco rolled his eyes, he had bought a TV at Harry’s request, and watching him try and use it brought Harry endless joy.

“Are you going to get off my lap, Scorp?” Harry asked, and the glare that Scorpius shot his way reminded him so much of Draco in first year that he had to laugh, a full belly laugh, as he picked Scorpius up and swung him around the room.

Draco watched from the floor with a tender smile on his face, and it made Harry’s heart swell to know that it wasn’t just for Scorpius, but him too. He was sure of it, as he was now sure of many things. Such as that, although Astoria would always be a part of Draco, Harry could be too. He knew better than most that losing someone didn’t mean you were closed off forever. That grief’s edge faded with time, no matter how much it tried to stay alive, aching under your skin like an old friend. He also knew, with absolute surety, that he was in love with Draco Malfoy, and that Draco loved him too.

“Scorp, want to hear a secret?” Harry asked breathlessly when they had stopped spinning (though the ground kept going), and Scorpius giggled as Harry leaned into his ear, “I think I’m in love with your dad.”

Scorpius giggled wildly, sticking out his tongue at Draco.

“What did you tell him?” Draco asked, getting up to come over to them, “you’re filling my boy’s head with useless fluff. One day I’m going to wake up,” he pounced, ruffling Scorpius’ hair as Harry tried to keep him safe, “and he’s going to have a cotton ball for a head!”

“No! No!” Scorpius squealed, holding onto Harry’s neck for dear life, as Draco attacked the both of them.

“I am the fluff monster,” Draco roared, “I eat all fluffballs!”

“Save me Hawwy, save me!” Scorpius yelled, punching out his tiny fists in Draco’s direction. Harry couldn’t stop laughing. Draco’s eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, his face in a mask of comical aggression. He had rarely looked happier. Harry wanted to snapshot this moment and frame it, perfect domestic bliss, no end to the night in sight. Maybe Draco would let Scorpius stay up past his bedtime, watch a movie with a little more action, eat buttery popcorn with chocolate M&Ms (Draco’s favourite muggle snack), all while snuggled in between the two of them. Maybe Draco would let Harry put his arm around his shoulder.

Draco came forward, looking like a tiger ready to pounce, and then he slipped his arm around Harry’s waist, in between Scorpius’ tiny body, and pulled Harry towards him.

“You can’t escape me now, you little devil,” Draco growled, smothering Scorpius in kisses. Draco’s hand felt like fire through the thin fabric of Harry’s shirt, it rested so easily on his lower back, felt so natural.

“I want a group hug!” Scorpius yelled, trying to pull Draco in, and Harry shrugged. They wrapped Scorpius up, Draco’s arms encircling both of them, both hands pressed into Harry.

He poured every ounce of love he could into that hug, every bit of warmth and affection, and he prayed that Draco would feel it, would understand that he loved him, loved Scorpius, cherished every moment they got to spend together. He wanted to keep watching Scorpius grow; his first growth spurt, his letter to Hogwarts, teach him how to play Quidditch, how to cook, how to clean, how to live and learn and play and be himself. He wanted to help, in any way possible, to alleviate the challenge of being a single parent. He wanted… he wanted Draco. Wrapped up in the hug, Scorpius wriggling between them, Draco leaned back just enough to look Harry in the eye.

Harry was close enough to see the different shades of dark grey streaking his irises, the subtle changes in his pupil, the soft fade of his eyelashes from brown to blond, and the way he was searching Harry’s face, shifting his head to the side.

I love you, Harry mouthed, as Scorpius finally squirmed free from their embrace and dropped to the floor, running around them and shouting about popcorn.

Draco understood, he stepped ever-so-slightly closer, his eyelashes fluttering, hand moving underneath Harry’s shirt.

They closed the gap between them, love sparking on the tips of their fingers, Harry’s glasses bumping into the bridge of Draco’s nose. He smelled like lemons and lavender, his lips were soft, and Harry had been wanting this for so very long. 

“Ewwww,” Scorpius yelled, jumping onto the couch, but Harry barely heard him. He pulled back from their chaste kiss, brushed their lips together, lingering.

 “You can sleep in my room tonight,” Draco whispered, “if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Harry replied. How long will you let me stay, he thought to himself, because he wanted to stay forever.

--

This is also posted on AO3! 

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