#it came out of nowhere and has been patiently waiting to be discussed

[blu3cl0v3rs]

I have a Ninjago AU.

If you didn't expect it already, it's Morro-centric. Also it is half an idea and a bag of funny quotes to go with it, none of this is laid out and, if I post about it again, the lore will probably change a lot.

But anyways, it kinda goes like this:

• Morro gets revived

• He maybe runs into Wu and the Ninja??

• If he does, he says fuck that and runs away (because avoidance is his "solution" to all of his problems)

• He eventually stumbles upon these children

• SURPRISE!! It's Brad and Gene! (And maybe Sally and possibly little Lloyd. I'm still trying to decide all of this)

• Morro's immediate reaction is "whose kids are these and why won't they leAVE ME ALONE???"

• Forced Found Family Moment TM

• Morro kind-of-but-not-really adopts the gaggle of children

• Said children decide to drag him through a redemption arc, and so now he goes around just helping people around Ninjago, mostly in Ninjago City.

• They become known by the locals as the "Unhinged Community Service"

• The name sticks and the kids start recording their weird bullshit and post it on social media

• The Ninja/Wu find the account and visit Morro bc conflict (I'm I'm a sucker for Wu and Morro content-)

• Therapy ensues

• Happy ever after(?)

(At least until I decide to ruin it >:) )

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Surprise Visit Pt 2 (Thor X Son!Reader)

Characters: Thor Odinson X Son!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: None

Pt 1

Request: Hi, I'm just finish Poco's udon world, and right of the batch I thought what if Poco is Thor's son, Poco has some of his feature too and I remember your fic Surprise Visit. Can you please do a Part 2 of it?🥺 reader is like Thor but he quite shy and always bring with books that his mother read before bed they bonding by activities together Thor bring him to Asgard to meet his grandparents Loki read them books, tell them stories, show and teach them magic (Harry Potter) with Freyaa and all fluff❤

The first few days after finally meeting your dad had been awkward to say the least. You were spending almost every waking moment either with him, or your uncle. You had expected that Loki would be a lot more awkward with you- or straight up wouldn’t like you from the get go, but it ended up being kind of the opposite. Thor had been a bit too eager from the get go to play the fatherly role, and you found it unnerving, and when Thor realised that (with help from Clint and Steve pointing it out for him) he backed up and started to just try and get to know you, your interests, your dislikes, and take things a little slower. Loki, on the other hand, was nowhere near as pushy, gave you space, and didn’t force conversation on to you. Eventually though, you ended up finding something to bond with Loki over; Books. 

You had been interested in the books he read, even if you couldn’t read the language, and worked up the courage to ask him about it, and after an explanation, he asked what kind of books you liked, and it was a start of an actual long and meaningful conversation. Loki took that, and hinted that Thor should look into those books. The next day, Thor showed up to your room with a pile of books in his arms and a grin on his face. 

Things since then had got a lot better between you and your dad. Instead of forcing it, or acting the part for the sake of it, Thor had naturally fallen into the father role that made it a comfortable change for you. Thor had little interest in books, but you had the ritual with him now of him buying a book for you, you read it, and after every chapter, you give him a rundown of what happened in detail, and you’d discuss it. You’d opened up a bit with him over the weeks, about what your life was like growing up with mum, holidays, key memories for you, and the rituals you two had- including reading books before bed together, which was where your love for books came from. Thor soon got you some of the books you mentioned, so you could do it with him. You got into a nice rhythm of living with and being around your dad and uncle, to the point where you were expecting it when an advancement was suggested. 

“How do you feel about going to Asgard with Loki and I, tomorrow?” Thor asked, as you were tidying up after another late night discussion about a book you had been reading- this one actually a recommendation from your Uncle Loki. You stopped what you were doing, and looked over at Thor, who waited patiently. 

“Uh… sure. Okay.” You agreed hesitantly, and immediately his face lit up. You had long guessed this conversation would happen, so you had time to prepare for it, though you knew that was actually impossible. What could prepare you for going to the land of gods- where you know you didn’t belong, even if Thor was your father? “Do… Do they know about me?” You asked cautiously. 

“Of course!” He immediately answered. “As soon as I returned to Agard after we met, I told mother and father about you, and my friends! I wanted to tell the entire kingdom, but mother- your grandmother, insisted we wait till you met them all first before telling the rest of Asgard. Freya, your grandmother, is the most eager to meet you.” He gushed to you. You’d heard a lot about your grandparents through both Thor and Loki. Admittedly, Thor was the only one who talked about Odin, and while Loki didn’t talk much about them, when he did, it was always about Freya, about how she was also a bit of a bookworm, and how she taught him magic.

You got up early the next morning, mostly due to struggling to sleep from the anticipation, and you didn’t have to wait for either your dad or uncle to be ready either, though you couldn’t tell if it was due to excitement or nerves, or maybe they were both feeling those things- your dad the excitement, and Loki the nerves. It didn’t help that your dad was a raving optimist, and your uncle was a pessimist, so you couldn’t tell who was feeling the right way, so you just adopted a bit of each of their emotions. Cautiously excited.

You honestly wasn’t sure what to expect when you actually got there, or even the process of getting there in the first place, but as soon as you left the Bifrost, you were in awe. Sure, they had told you all about Asguard- the rainbow path that led to it, the great kingdom, the beauty of it all, but none of that was in comparison to what you were actually seeing. You remained in stunned silence the entire walk up the bridge, actually entering into Asguard, past the several hundred people who came to welcome them back and ask about you, up until your father actually called for you, after seeing you distracted by something else further away. You turned, seeing several people stood with your father and uncle, looking at you smiling. “Y/N, these are my friends, Fandrall, Hogun, Volstagg, and Sif.” Your father introduced you.

“So this is the little prince?” Sif questioned with a smile. 

“Little? Thor, you said he was a boy! Give it a few years and he’ll be ready to be king!” Volstagg laughed, though the mention of such a role made you look at Loki quickly, and then your dad. 

“He is a boy! The very idea of being king is still a long way away- you make it sound like he’ll outlive me.” Thor defended. 

“Speaking of Kings.” Loki spoke up, placing  hand on Thor’s shoulder. 

“Right! Haven’t had the chance to introduce him to the rest of his family. We’ll pick this up later, promise.” Thor told them motioning you over, and guiding you deeper into the kingdom, down several expansive corridors, before you turned a corner, and spotted a group of women talking in the hallway ahead, and your father and uncle stopped. “Loki, stay here with Y/N.” Thor requested, before going towards the group, and you looked up at Loki confused, who patted you on the shoulder. You watched as your father approached the group, made some small talk, before all the women except one left down another hallway, and Thor stepped to the side, motioning the woman towards you and Loki, and you realised who she must be. Freya. Your grandmother. 

As soon as she saw you properly, she smiled warmly, hands clasped and pressed against her chest with excitement, and any fear you had- fear of not being liked, or not meeting their standards, of being a disappointment, being looked down on for being half human- it all faded. You could feel the love and acceptance radiating off the woman as she reached out her hands, and took your own. “Y/N, words cannot describe the absolute joy I feel to finally be in your presence finally after all of Thor’s descriptions.” Freya told you, gently squeezing your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile too. 

“I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you too from dad and uncle Loki.” You told her, and her smile grew, before she pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around you. 

“Thor- Loki, go tell your father that you’re here with Y/N- I’ll give Y/N a tour of the palace- we’ll be in the library when you’re done. We have a lot to talk about.” Freya decided, already walking away with you, and you didn’t fight it, leaving with her. 

Thor and Loki did as ordered, finding their father, letting them know they’d also brought you, and after a bit of back and forth questioning where exactly you were, and Loki explaining their mother had already stolen you away herself, and Odin simply sighed, and got up to follow his sons to head to the Library. 

By the time they met back up with you and Freya, you and her were already getting along like a house on fire- she’d asked about your mother, her health, your childhood, her own expieriences that related when raising Thor and Loki, and when she heard about your little tradition with Thor with books, she picked out a book for you to take home to read, and to keep. You felt comfortable enough with her to ask about Loki and Odin’s relationship, the comment Thor’s friends made about being King one day and how you weren’t big on the idea, and also how according to how your dad and Loki talked about Odin, you were much more worried about meeting him than her. Freya had answers your questions, reassured you of your worries, and promised Odin would be on his best behaviour, and she helped your first meeting with Odin a lot from the get go. 

As soon as Freya saw her husband, she stood first, smiling. “Odin, thank you for joining us. I was just about to ask Y/N if they’d like a private family dinner. What do you think?” Freya asked him, wrapping an arm around you again, and you smiled nervously at your grandfather, who was a lot more intimidating than you had anticipated. Odin didn’t talk at first, stepping a little closer, and you panicked internally, not knowing what to do, if you were supposed to do something- but Freya had kept her arm around you, gently rubbing your arm in reassurance. 

“That can certainly be arranged. It’ll let us get to know our grandson. Thor, will you come with me to make the arrangements?” He asked, of his oldest, who nodded. “See you at dinner, Y/N.” He told you, before making his leave, Thor smiling at you, before following after him. 

“In the meantime.” Freya spoke up once the two were quite a distance away. “Y/N, want to learn some magic?” She asked. 

“Mother, I don’t know about that…” Loki fussed. 

“Just beginning spells, nothing serious… we’ll save that for later. Maybe you could mentor Y/N as well when back on Midgard.” She suggested, and you realised that maybe, just maybe… Loki got some of his mischief from his mother. 

“Am I able to do magic? Since I’m half human?” You questioned. 

“I believe so, it’s worth a try. You coming Loki?” Freya questioned her son, who simply sighed, and followed after, deciding to be apart of his mother’s antics, knowing that Thor might lose his mind when he finds out about this. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my Gif

TAGS: @insanityismysanity12345 @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort  @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

[muji-milk]

diff anon, but i’m wondering if the immediate referral to (potential) medical service has anything to do with the fact that access to that service is related to why many young trans people attempt suicide. the medical community knows the statistics and knows that it’s life saving care for many young trans people, so even just referring them there could be life saving. that doesn’t necessarily negate your point about needing more counselors involved in the process, though. perhaps there should be psychological counseling during the waiting process. i’d imagine that might lead them to be vulnerable to the not-always-impartial whim of a psychologist though. (also i’ve been following you since your gender confusion era and even *I* nearly unfollowed you at first because putting ‘affirmation’ in quotes is big terf energy. figured i’d give you a chance to explain.)

I put affirmation in quote marks just to emphasize the word, not to show a disbelief or dismissal of the service. I agree that it can and has saved lives.

However, I also think that viewing my words as terf energy is....ridiculous. TERF rhetoric is a very specific thing, but this acronym is used so frequently to quiet someone who raises a concern about gender issues that doesn't immediately align with 100% support for affirmation, that it has become diluted. We should reserve terf for what it is - some chronically online feminists who do not believe trans people are sane/real and would rather ignore/eradicate them. A terf is not anyone who wants to discuss shortcomings in the current medical approach to dysphoria. The more we bandy around a word like terf when someone attempts to discuss an alternative view, the more people are going to give up and go "yeah well then i am a terf". And we get nowhere.

Anyway!

I do agree the waiting process is flawed. Even when someone is a fully prepared and intentional, they still just have to wait for sometimes 1-2 years; and in the meantime there's nothing really provided. I think that this waiting period can be what drives some people to a more dysphoric state, because their desired outcome is almost in their grasp and they may get tunnel vision towards it.

I also think that the constant reference to affirmation service as 'lifesaving' puts so much pressure on everyone; the clinics, the young patients, the parents of young patients. It makes it look like the only option if you want to be happy and not die. And if you don't send your child there, they will die. You know what was life saving for me? Not transitioning. Spending lots of time thinking and realising things about myself. Going to counseling to talk through other things unrelated to gender. Getting out of my solitary bubble.

But, big but; because I never formally began the medical transition process (only socially) I am not a measurable statistic. I never became a patient to a clinic, so my experience is not traceable. Those who medically transition are a quantifiable group. Those who commit suicide are also a quantifiable group. We can use these 2 data sets to show the correlation; affirmation = lifesaving. But there's is no data on the amount of people like me who went through phases and changed their minds and are happier because they came out of that phase rather than following through. It shouldn't be controversial and 'terfy' to tell young people "sometimes it is just a phase" - phases are valid and help us discover things about ourselves, and the end result after the phases can be something we didn't expect.

So to constantly present 'affirmation' as the only lifesaver creates very loaded ideas in the individual's mind; you feel this is the route to your true self, you see older people saying they wish they'd done it sooner, you read encouraging statistics about people's life after transition, and you read depressing statistics about those who kill themselves because their family wont let them access transition when they're a teen; and then you have to sit around waiting for 2 years, getting more desperate to reach that 'lifesaver' with all this info in your head potentially blinding you to other possibilities of growth and expression and the lives you could lead if it does turn out to be a phase.

[noseblxxd]

"Has anyone seen Turners lately?"

The mood had shifted to a quiet concern since she was last outside the tent. It felt a bit silly, having a ranger posted to their station. Sure, Freeside wasn't the safest place to be at times, but this felt like overkill. A few troopers would have been enough, and the medic team all agreed that all it seemed to do was intimidate residents. Military presence, medical or not, was bad enough; nobody was going to approach them with special ops standing beside the tent. As a matter of fact, they got more patients whenever their appointed ranger was away from their post. Feedback for higher-ups, definitely.

Wasn't a problem anymore, seeing as they were nowhere to be seen. An hour ago they stepped away for a smoke break, and hadn't come back yet. When Bev rejoined her collogues they were discussing what the best course of action should be, in terms of locating them. The plan was to return back to base tomorrow for shift change, but nobody felt all that comfortable leaving with someone unaccounted for.

Bev came back into the tent with the food she promised, and a plump red cactus fruit cut down the middle. The concern on her face was obvious, brow furrowed and eyes down. For a moment she considered asking him if he'd seen their missing comrade, but it felt like a long shot.

"Sorry for the wait," She set the food down beside him. "If you feel better after eating, I'll check back in twenty minutes and we can check if you're good to head back out."

noseblxxd​:

Christ if only she knew how big of a mistake this was. How badly she fucked up.

The tears really got to her. Anytime a patient or colleague found themselves overwhelmed, her first instinct was to try and fix it. That stress was isolating, and if there was anything Bev wanted to insure the people she worked with knew, was that she was in the corner.

Once more she tore off a square of gauze, this time handing it off the the other as a makeshift tissue. From the silence it was clear this was an uncomfortable conversation, but the eye contact was a good sign. Hopefully. Had his eyes been cast downwards she’d think differently.

“There’s no obligation to go, it’s completely your choice.” Bev started the third and final line of stitches. “But I felt compelled to extend the offer. I know the last we spoke I mentioned the Republic helping me out when I was struggling, so I guess I’m paying it forward, in a way.”

With one last tiny knot, it was finished. Still bruised and battered, but no longer actively bleeding. She got back to her feet, and patted the back of his hand before approaching the tent’s entrance.

“I’ll just be a second, just stepping out to get you something to eat. We picked some cactus fruits before we set up camp, I could bring you some of that as well.”

It took him a moment to accept the gauze, letting a choked ´thank you´ slip through the cracks of his frown. Gabban was an awful person and the weight of that truth would someday burden his heart. But not then, not when he had just scored an invitation to Aerotech. He wondered how Picus would feel if he knew. 

“Thank you, Bev. I mean it.” Gabban shot her a pleading look, the way a pup grovels at the feet of it´s master and paws at their trousers. Nobody would have suspected him, looking so vulnerable over the cot, to be full of such malice. 

It took all of his focus not to smile the second she left, instead resuming that air of sadness he´d drawn up for himself. Gabban wiped away the tears and laid back in thought. Beverly didn’t deserve a betrayal like this. A voice in the back of his mind told him this was the same kind of cruelty he´d been stabbed with for years. But that voice was quickly chased away by the sound of mongrels wedged even deeper at the back of his mind. 

Gabban breathed in and shed another tear despite himself. He was too good at his own game. 

[anonquack]

| His Merch |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 4256

Warnings: None, just some curse words. Fluff :]

Summary: Being such good friends with Quackity leads to the inevitable; catching feelings. In fear of ruining your friendship with him, you kept quiet about your feelings. Although usually good at that, after a merch drop and a slip-up on stream, you prepare yourself for the worst. Queue the incoming call from Quackity himself.

Today had been a productive day, in your opinion. You'd woken up earlier than usual, ate breakfast, cleaned around your apartment, and managed to get started on editing a video you'd recently filmed.

That's why you considered yourself very deserving of sitting down and enjoying your friend's stream as you ate some snacks.

Quackity had a fun stream planned, and had hyped up a 'big announcement' on Twitter, and the whole timeline was already speculating what it could be as they awaited for Quackity to start stream.

Being his friend had some perks though, contrary to popular belief. He'd discussed with you what the big announcement was as you sat on call with him a few nights prior to the big day. It was merch, and according to your past experience with Planet Duck products, it was sure to be soft and super comfy. You were very much looking forward to getting your hands on some of his new merch.

He'd brought up sending some to you, one of the previously mentioned perks of being his friend, but you politely declined. Much to his surprise. He'd asked why and you'd simply stated that "It was fine," and perhaps it came off as a bit rude. A 'no thanks' to his merch that you hadn't even seen.

But you had plans of your own, you wanted to acquire said merch on your own, and support him financially in the process. He didn't have to know that though, so with a small 'Oh' from him as his response, you swiftly changed topic of conversation.

Now here you sat, watching the stream as Quackity explained what he'd be doing with his friend John Smith. Riding go-karts around what looked like a storage unit. You couldn't help but worry as you watched them zoom around, occasionally getting close to crashing, and eventually doing just that.

The stream itself was rather fun to watch, but you kept your debit card beside you. This was in case he decided to drop the merch announcement out of nowhere. And that was exactly what he did. Another perk of being his friend was you grew a 6th sense for these type of things. Always had a feeling for what was about to happen when it came to Quackity.

You watched as the chat freaked out, watched as the notification from Planet Duck went out, notifying everybody that the merch had been released. You quickly typed into your computer, and the internet seemed to be taking its time to redirect you to Quackity's merch site.

After some time, it finally loaded and you began to look at all the options. The merch was wonderful, Quackity had been hyping it up to you (you'd asked for no reveals, wanting to wait like everyone else) and he had been absolutely right.

Most of the designs were new, except for the iconic Planet Duck logo, and were all very cute. You had Quackity's stream playing in the background as you maneuvered your way around the site, finally deciding on which merch you'd be buying.

As you went to purchase, a red sign alerted you that there was no shipping to your location. To which you quickly raised an eyebrow, panic starting to rush through you. Maybe you should've accepted his offer.

After refreshing multiple times and watching the Twitter timeline freak out as well over the inability to ship to several locations, it finally seemed to work, and the payment finally went through. A big "Thank you for your purchase" appearing onto the screen.

You let out a sigh of relief, clicking back onto the tab where the stream was, a small smile on your face. You'd actually managed to get it on your own. It was nerve-racking, when it seemed like you wouldn't be able to get the shipping to work, when it seemed like it'd sell out before you had the chance to buy some.

Now you finally understood what it felt like, the stress of getting your hands on merch before it sold out. It'd been an exhilerating experience.

You relaxed into your seat as Quackity's laugh filled the room. He was recreating bits from Fast and Furious, and zooming all over the place. You watched with a fond smile as he drove around, throwing random Spanish profanities at John Smith here and there.

The funky heart glasses he had on did nothing to ease the warmth that was spreading through your chest at the sight of him. You were suffering due to your confusing feelings towards your close friend, but nobody knew, or at least that is what you told yourself.

You tried to focus on something else, something that wasn't solely him. The go-karts were going pretty fast, and you remembered the scene they were recreating from the movie. Whichever random thought came to mind, you'd focus on it instead, too scared to let your thoughts wander elsewhere.

When it came to and end, you were conflicted. You were glad your heart would be able to catch a break, but you also missed him almost immediately. Sickening, really.

You took some time to reflect on what you'd done so far. Cleaned, ate your meals, worked on some editing, got some Quackity merch, and enjoyed a fun stream. It was rather productive, to say the least.

But there was still some time left in the day, and you figured you'd put the energy coursing through your body to use.

Taking a seat at your desk, you turned your monitor on before opening the twitch app. An alt stream would be perfect right now. After going live and sending out a tweet letting your followers know you were live, you patiently waited for the viewers to start coming in.

Considering this was an alt stream, you figured you'd play some random game and just chat for a bit before heading to bed. As the viewers came in, you gave your greetings before opening a tab for roblox, getting on a random server to play an obby game as you talked to chat.

There was a content smile on your face as you asked chat how their day had been, how they were feeling, your little character jumping around and passing through the beginner levels on the obby game.

"I'm actually in a really good mood, chat. My day has been going so well." You began, glancing at chat here and there, smile growing at the memory of the adventures acquiring Quackity merch.

After the chat was flooded with questions asking about what had happened, you indulged. "I was watching Quackity's stream earlier today, and it was so much fun!" The smile grew before softening as you focused on the obby. "I was also able to get some of his new merch."

The chat erupted into bits of 'friends supporting friends' to 'y/n in quackity merch???' and people yelling that they had been or weren't able to get merch.

Seeing the chat made you laugh, nodding your head a bit. "No because I was so nervous I wouldn't be able to get some-" you admitted, attention now focused solely on telling the viewers about your own experience.

"I was trying to purchase, and there was a line, and then it said it wouldn't ship to my location?? I was so worried I wouldn't be able to get some. But it finally worked. I'm excited for it to get here." You finished your small rant, a content smile on your lips.

Chat consisted of people agreeing with the technical difficulties occurring at the time of the merch drop, others saying they were too broke to buy anything. It felt nice, to see something from their perspective and also have shared an experience like this.

"Big Q actually offered to send me some, but I told him no because I wanted to get it myself.. Wanted to get it fair and square." You said as you refocused on the obby in front of you, fond smile on your face as you thought about how nice he was. He was willing to send all of his friends some of his merch, free of cost.

"Also wanted to give him my support by actually purchasing it, you know?" You added, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as it leaned against your desk. You took this time to read chat, which was exploding with what you thought was a combination of Quackity's username with yours, and 'bffs ur honor!!'.

You smiled at that, hands finally moving your character around. "Really, he has been such an amazing friend, extremely welcoming, always fun to be around. And just.. life is never dull when he's around. He's always been there for me when I needed it and well‐" A pause. "I'm glad I was able to support him in some way." You hummed softly as you finished up yet another small rant about Quackity.

At the realization that you'd been talking about him for far too long, and that he was not meant to be the focus of your alt stream, you cleared your throat and began focusing on the obby game once again.

You shifted the topic of conversation to the video you'd also been editing today, and that quickly took everyone's attention away from how affectionately and fondly you'd been speaking of your dear friend. Everyone was now excited about the new video.

Seeing how easily the chat's focus changed made you ease up a bit, and you were able to enjoy the rest of your stream playing random roblox games and discussing some stuff with chat. It lasted for a bit longer before you finally decided to end stream.

Some goodbyes and after stream officially ended, you found yourself on Twitter. Everything seemed pretty peaceful on the timeline, up until the trending page came up.

Your name was trending, along with 'QUACKITY IN CHAT' and the infamous combination of usernames. A monstrosity, really.

You heard yourself audibly gulp as you clicked on the trending topic 'quackity in chat'. Much to your dismay it was true. There was screenshots that showed Quackity was watching your stream. That meant that he'd heard you talking about him in that sickening tone. That tone that was unnecessarily sweet and fond.

You didn't know who was freaking out more, the so-called shippers, the timeline, or yourself. You gently bit at the inside of your cheek, scrolling and reading all the tweets of people trying to guess how Quackity must've felt while hearing all that. Others raising an eyebrow at how long you'd gone on about Quackity and how 'perfect' he was.

You'd fucked up, that was for sure, and it wasn't even intentional or fan service of any kind. It was an alt stream, it wasn't planned in any way, shape, or form. He'd been brought up, and you'd accidentally spilled all fond thoughts you held of him.

Your cursor hovered over a specific tweet that read, 'want someone to talk about me the way y/n talks about big q'. It was sweet, and perhaps made you smile just a little bit.

As you read it over in your head, a notification popped up on your screen, the discord notification ringing in your ears as you read who the message was from. Quackity.

You messed around with your mouse for a bit before finally closing the Twitter tab, and instead opting to open the unread message.

Quackity

hey (:

You stared at it for a bit, blinking in disbelief at how normal the message came across. Perhaps he'd tuned in during the last half of the stream. Perhaps he hadn't been able to watch while you rambled about him, and perhaps he hadn't been on Twitter either. One could hope.

y/n hi (:

It showed that he was typing almost immediately after, and you tried your best to calm your nerves.

Quackity call?

You felt yourself tense at the message. Maybe he wanted to let you down kindly. 'Hey! Saw your stream, and I just wanted to ask if you could chill the fuck out. That was kind of creepy. Maybe never speak of me ever again. Do not perceive me any longer, thanks!'

Something along those lines for sure. That's what probably awaited you if you said yes to this. But what exactly were you supposed to do instead?

y/n ofc

It only took a few seconds for the call to come through. Stalling wouldn't help, so you answered by the third ring.

He greeted you, and everything seemed normal. The calls were normal between you two, but you were just on edge due to twitter trending and the stream that took place less than an hour ago.

"How are you feeling, Quackity?" You asked with a small smile, today was a big day for him, and you were sure he'd enjoy talking about how fast the merch sold.

"I'm doing great. Really happy that the fans liked the designs and just.. we sold a lot. I'm happy." He restated the last bit, the smile was obvious in his voice. You didn't have to be seeing it to know. Another perk of being so close to him. You had a clear visual image of what he probably looked like right now. Cute smile plastered onto his equally cute face.

"I'm really happy for you, Big Q. You deserve all the success that is coming your way and more." You hummed softly. Everything you were saying, you meant wholeheartedly. There was silence for a bit before he finally spoke again.

"I watched your stream."

Fuck. There it was. You should've expected it but it still hit like a ton of bricks. You felt your mouth turn dry, could barely manage to get out the word, "Yeah?"

"Mhm." Straight to the point. There was a bit of silence, you were unsure of what to say. Why had he brought it up? It was bound to happen, but what was the reason behind bringing it up? To tease you, let you know he wasn't interested, or because roblox obbies are just so much fun?

"You didn't have to buy it, you know?" He finally said, breaking the silence.

"I wanted to." You reassured, "the merch is really pretty. Worth every penny."

"I could've sent you whichever you wanted." He stated bluntly. As if it was weird of you to have gone and bought it on your own.

"Thank you, but I wanted to buy it myself. Let me? Please?" Let me show my support this way, is what you meant to say. It came out softer than intended, and you could feel your heart beating against your ribs. You really needed to watch your tone around him.

"Of course." He responded, just as softly. He'd drive you crazy one of these days. They'd have to lock you up, and you'd never see the light of day again.

"Did you have fun riding the go-karts?" You asked, a small smile on your lips as you wandered back onto the Twitter tab, a clip of his stream now on display on the timeline.

He let out a small laugh, "I did. Did you enjoy watching it?" You nodded before responding, "Of course. Was concerning watching you crash into walls though."

He hummed softly in response, possibly contemplating what to say with how long he took before he spoke again.

"Did you really mean all the things you said on stream?"

Somehow, even with your own attempts to change topic, the focus was back on your stream and the things that had been said. You wouldn't be able to dig yourself out of the hole you'd dug.

It was entirely your fault, for even allowing yourself to consider him as anything but a great friend. It was your fault for taking the late night calls, the sweet tones, and messages the wrong way. Your interpretations were all wrong and now you'd have to sit here and apologize for practically outing yourself on stream. For letting the whole world know that you had romantic feelings for a good friend of yours. You'd probably made him so uncomfortable.

You felt yourself cringe slightly at his words, already gone quiet for far too long. You had to speak up, even if it lead to a good friendship ending a few minutes from now.

"Of course I did. You're great, Alex." The use of his name was meant to assure him you meant it wholeheartedly. It made the moment feel more intimate, too. Much to your own dismay, yet again. You couldn't help it.

The possibility that your friendship with him could come to an end real soon made you act on your feelings. It left you unhinged. If it was all going to end here, maybe you'd allow yourself to act on impulse. End it with a bang.

"Thank you, really. I know I probably wasn't meant to hear all that, but it was really nice. Made me feel nice as well. And just, seeing that you didn't accept the merch from me because you wanted to support me directly.. thank you."

His voice was soft, felt like warm honey to your taste buds. You could almost hear your heart melting inside your chest, could feel it dripping down and touching your diaphragm, oozing into every single crevice in your body. You'd never understand how he had such effects on you. How he was able to make you so fond of him.

"I meant every single word. You deserve that and so much more." You reassured yet again, a small smile on your lips. You heard him let out a small chuckle, which made you laugh as well.

Moments later, he had turned his camera on, wanting to show you all the merch. You'd asked for him to put it on, since you were a 'visual learner' and had to see it on him in order to fully understand what it looked like. He had playfully rolled his eyes, but hadn't really argued against it.

So there you were, watching as he changed from hoodie to hoodie, moving out of frame to change into the shirts. You could feel your heart thumping harshly against your rib cage at the sight of him. Some looked bigger on him, some looked just right. They all looked wonderful, and super comfy. Perhaps that was simply because they were on him, and he looked so comfy.

He looked like he could give the best hugs.

"You really think so?" His voice came out a bit sheepish, and the light pink that dusted his cheeks was becoming more and more evident. Huh?

"What?" You said, a dumb look on your face as you tried connecting the dots.

"That I could give the best hugs." He stated slowly, as if he was testing how it sounded before adding, "Do you really think that?"

Had you really said that out loud? Fuck. It took acting on impulse to a whole other level. This wasn't something you two usually did, but I guess it was okay since everything might be ending soon. Ballsy moves.

"Yeah. You make the merch look so cozy." Your throat felt dry, eyes glued to his face, wanting to catch every single second of his reaction. Wanting to see each movement of his facial muscles, to find out what it could possibly entail. "Makes me wonder what your hugs feel like." You admitted.

Your eyes scanned the entirety of his face, perking up slightly at the sight of his face flushing, leaving him with the softest tint of pink to spread across his cheeks, almost matching his pretty lips. What the hell did that even mean?

"Maybe you won't have to wonder for too long. With guidelines being lifted and all." The line. Blurred at that very moment, for sure. His eyes were glued to you as well, which only made you hesitate every single movement you could think of doing at that moment.

"And in the meantime? What am I supposed to do?" Risky. Crossing lines, jumping over hurdles. This all had to be against friend rules or something. You could feel your sanity decreasing each second this call went on. But he wasn't stopping any of this either.

"I could send you a hoodie." The sentence brought you out of your Quackity-induced haze, making you quickly shake your head. What? Before you could protest or ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, he explained.

"My hoodie. Y'know. Mine. One I wear. You can give it back when we meet up, perhaps."

Your mouth went dry again, shocked at the domestic feeling it gave. He was suggesting he send one of his hoodies. It would smell like him. It was the closest thing to giving him an actual hug. It would be paradise.

"You'd really do that?" You asked, still in disbelief, but he quickly nodded his head. "Oh." You said softly, before a smile appeared on your face. "I would like that, then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'll send it then." He hummed, smile spreading on his lips as well. Everything going on was making you feel dizzy. It felt so surreal.

You'd mentally prepared yourself for the worst, but instead were met with a flirtatious Quackity. He'd said sweet things to you before, but you never allowed yourself to take it seriously, not wanting to get your hopes up. And it never went to this extent.

It seemed he realized what just went down, a loud laugh escaping his lips. "Holy shit. You're gonna have one of my hoodies soon."

"I am." You chimed in, smile on your lips as well.

"And you'll wear it around." He added.

"I will."

"You'll look good, as always."

You could feel the heat rush to your face. What was going on? Was this real, or just a very cruel dream? Alex Quackity was fucking flirting with you.

"Are you flirting with me?" Bewildered tone, raised eyebrows. Your brain couldn't even begin to progress what was being said.

"What the fuck does it look like I've been doing?"

"Have you really?" Warmth spread across your chest at how blunt he was being. The line was gone. It'd been erased, never to be seen again. There was no shame in him. Admitting he was flirting with his whole chest.

"I have. Why are you so surprised though? I've subtly flirted with you before.. and I mean, were you not confessing your undying love to me on stream?" He raised a brow, feigned confusion on his face. He was teasing. You let out a groan, covering your face with your hands as he let out a laugh.

Surreal. He confessed to having flirted with you in the past. So you weren't delusional, nice to know. "Are you done?" You asked, face still covered by your hand in shame.

"I saw a tweet that was saying they felt like third wheels since I was in chat, and you were just going on about everything you liked about me." You kept your face covered. He was not stopping. Now he was the unhinged one.

He was visibly scrolling through the timeline at this point. "Oh, and one saying they want what we have. What do we have?"

You finally uncovered your face. "I don't know. Whatever the fuck this is, I guess?"

"Well, what is this?"

"Mm... whatever you want it to be." You finally answered, and there was a surprised look plastered on his face at that.

"Whatever I want?"

"Yeah." You paused. Would he regret this after he got out of this haze? What if it had just been flirting for fun? But he wouldn't play with your feelings like this, would he?

Alex Quackity was perfect though, and perhaps he had a sixth sense about when stuff was wrong with you, because he caught on to your hesitation.

"Hey." He called out softly. The teasing, flirtatious tone was gone, now replaced by the softer tone reserved for late night calls, or when everybody else in the vc had left and it was just you two.

You look at where his face was on your monitor, relaxing a bit simply by his tone and the soft gaze he held on you.

"I know everything sort of progressed pretty fast tonight.. but your stream really helped me realize a few things. I do like you, y/n. Not fucking around or anything." He said it in a firm tone, one that told you he wasn't messing around, but still felt oh so intimate.

Everything he was saying was exactly what you wanted and needed to hear. Reassurance that your feelings weren't unrequited. You couldn't believe your rambling on stream had lead you guys here.

"I like you, too. If that wasn't obvious already." You mumbled out, eyes averting before glancing to see his reaction. He had the biggest, cutest, grin on his face. Charming, and extremely contagious. You couldn't help but smile back.

Holy shit.

"Is this real?" You asked out loud, smile never leaving your face.

"It is. All thanks to your ranting on stream. How cool is that?"

You couldn't help but still feel rather embarrassed that he'd heard all of it, but it had brought you two here. All embarrassment was worth it. Especially if it meant it opened up a whole new world of possibilities for you two.

"Very cool." You mumbled, before a smile appeared on your lips. Today really couldn't have gone any better.

[folklorelise]

Squad Leader Mom is pregnant!

MASTERLIST

Since all the baby incidents that had happened with you, Levi or the cadets, Levi and you had been thinking about having one of your own, but you never actually talked about it. Then one night, as you were reading before going to bed, Levi sat next to you on the couch ready to have that talk with you.

“Y/N.” Levi called your name seeing that you were not paying any attention to him.

“Hm?”

“I want to have–.” Levi started but then stopped.

“What’s wrong?” you asked worried, putting down your book.

“Remember when the kids were turned into children? We said that we would talk about having a kid. I want to talk about it now.” he told you staring at you. “If you want.” Levi quickly added.

“Oh right.” you said mumbled.

To be honest, since you joined the survey corps – having a baby never was an option for you. For Levi, having a child at all was never an option, but since he met you, he felt like anything could be possible.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine too.” Levi said.

“I don’t know.” you admitted. “I loved having the cadets around. It was a lot of fun and I loved them as kids. But a new-born is different.” you paused. “I remember my neighbour; they had one and it was constantly crying and screaming. It looked exhausting. Also, what about my job here? I cannot– I… I can’t go on expeditions knowing that our child could become an orphan.”

“I would never let that happen.” Levi assured you, taking your hands. “I know our situation is not ideal, but can you imagine how great it would be to have a tiny version of us running around. I like that thought. That maybe one day, we could finally retire with our own little family.”

“It does sound nice.” you smiled fondly at Levi. “If that makes you happy, then ok.”

“Really? Because I don’t want to pressure you.”

“I’m sure. We’ll figure it out.”

The more you thought about it, the more you were sure about your decision. You had the possibility to give Levi another chance at having his own family and that was what made you certain of your choice. The next few months were spent in bed with Levi. It was intense – Levi was intense which resulted in making the both of you exhausted for trainings and expeditions.

Eight months into trying to get pregnant, yet there was still no baby in sight. Your doctor reassured you and said that getting pregnant is not an easy task.

You get easily sick during winter, so when a week before the expedition you started to feel nauseous, you just shrug it off. Which you instantly regretted the second you felt like passing out in front of a titan outside.

Eren from far away saw you falling from the sky and did not hesitate a second before transforming and running toward you. He caught you in time from hitting the ground and Mikasa from behind killed the titan that was ready to eat you.

“Mom?” Eren tried to wake you up once Mikasa got him out. “Mom, wake up please.” Eren cried.

Every squad were running toward where Eren transformed, not knowing why he did it. Levi and his squad were the first one who arrived.

“Eren!” Levi yelled at the boy but stopped when he saw you in his arms. A million questions were running through Levi’s mind. He could not move – he wanted to see if you were fine, yet his feet would not move toward you. What if he saw a wound, what if you were already dead?

“Captain,” Eren cried, “I– I saw her falling and I came. She’s not waking up!”

“What’s happening here?” Erwin finally arrived. “Levi wha–.” he asked the captain but stopped when he saw you. “Is she d–?”

“NO!” Eren yelled. “She can’t be, I– I caught her.”

“What happened then?” Erwin asked a member of you squad.

“We don’t know. We spotted a few titans, and we were all going to take care of them. Then – squad leader Y/N was just behind us!”

“She is still breathing.” Erwin checked your pulse. “Levi’s going to take her back, and the rest of us will continue the expedition. You can go too.” Erwin told the cadets.

Every other squads were leaving the scene. Erwin slowly approached Levi.

“She’s ok, you can go and take her back.”

“Ok.” Levi breathed.

Levi slowly approached where the cadets where and took you in his arms. Once you were back, Levi rushed you to the infirmary. The cadets were all patiently waiting outside the room. Every one of them was worried, but Eren was even more.

“What if it’s my fault?” Eren said.

“You saved her!” Mikasa protested.

“When I caught her, maybe I squeezed her without noticing?”

“She is fine.” Jean shouted.

Levi was sitting with them, silently. After just a few minutes of waiting, a doctor came out of the room. Everyone stood up hoping for good news.

“Y/N is doing great. She just needs to rest now.”

“Thank you!” Sasha shouted hugging the doctor.

“Is she waking up soon?” Jean asked.

“She should be up in a few hours top. But from now on she should stay here as the pregnancy is already three months in or something.” the doctor said before leaving for his office.

“The pregnancy?” Levi repeated confused.

“Mom’s pregnant?” Jean asked Levi.

“Mom’s pregnant!” they all shouted excited.

“We’re going to have a little brother or sister!” Connie burst excited.

While the cadets were shouting, Levi was still trying to process the news.

“D– Captain!” Jean quickly corrected himself. “Can we go in and see her?”

“She’s still sleeping, I’ll go and find you once she woke up.” Levi said entering the room alone.

Levi was sitting next to you, waiting patiently for you to wake up. An hour or two later, the cadets could not wait any longer and came into your room.

“Please, can we stay?” Sasha begged the captain.

“Fine, but shup your months.”

A few minutes after the kids came in, you finally woke up. Levi was the first to notice it. He quickly stood up and came near you.

“Y/N, are you feeling ok?” Levi asked.

“Water.” you grunted.

“I’ll get you a glass of water!” Armin volunteered.

After drinking the whole glass, you instantly felt better. You asked Levi what happened and when he explained to you that you fainted due to the pregnancy, you started to cry.

“Don’t cry. It is good right? We’re happy about this.” Levi asked.

“It’s happy tears.” You confirmed laughing slightly.

Levi then left to bring some food. The second Levi left, Eren came and hugged you. Then very quickly everyone else joined the hug.

“You scared us to death earlier.” Eren told you.

“I’m sorry I made you worried.”

When Erwin came back, Levi and you were waiting for him in his office.

“Y/N’s pregnant.” Levi announced it to the commander. “Obviously, she won’t be going to the next expeditions, right?”

“What? Congratulation!” Erwin shouted happily. “That’s really great news.”

“Erwin – the expeditions.”

“Right, of course. Y/N, you have to rest from now on.”

“But I can’t do nothing.” you protested. “I’ll get bored.”

“You’re pregnant.” Levi argued. “You just have to take care of you by staying here. Erwin agrees with me.”

“I–. Y/N if you want to go home and rest, you can.” Erwin agreed.

“I don’t. I’ll stay here and work with you on paperwork, I’ll do everything as usual except going on expedition.” you stated firmly.

Levi knew how stubborn you were, so he did not continue to argue. What mattered to him was that you were not going on expedition. After announcing the news to Erwin, Levi and you went to see Hange to tell them the news. The scream Hange uttered was so loud that Moblit came in running.

“What happened?” Moblit asked worried.

“Y/N is pregnant!” Hange shouted.

“Oh! Congratulation!” Moblit hugged you.

The next person to know about it was Mike, then soon enough the entire survey corps knew about it. After a few days, you decided it was time to go and tell your family about it. You proposed to Levi to come with you since he never met them.

“I’m busy.” Levi told you.

“It’ll just be a day.”

Your parents used to live inside of wall rose, but as your father’s business became more and more successful, they moved inside of wall Sina. You had a brother in the military too. You joined at the same time – he was a year older than you – he ended up being first and chose the military police brigade.

The next morning, you and Levi took a carriage to your home. Your parents made you and your brother promise to visit at least once a month, and you both decided to visit the first Sunday of every month – which was today. You knocked on the door and it was your mother who opened the door.

“It has been so long. Ah, and you must be Levi, right?” your mother welcomed you in.

“Yes.” Levi answered.

“Come in.”

“Your brother is not there yet.” your mom told you. “Do you want to drink something?”

“Tea please, black tea. For the both of us.” you told her.

“I feel uncomfortable here.” Levi whispered once your mother was gone.

“Let’s just tell them the news and then we can go.” you reassured him.

Your mother brought back the tea and she sat on the couch in front of where you were. Your father was nowhere to be seen – he was buying groceries at the market – and your brother was probably still sleeping.

“I heard a lot about you Levi.” you mother finally said.

“Levi’s very popular.” you answered seeing that Levi did not know what to say. “He is humanity’s strongest after all.”

“Good, then I know my daughter is safe beside you.”

“Y/N is strong, and she doesn’t need me to protect her.” Levi insisted, “But that does not mean I won’t do anything in my power to protect her of course.”

“That’s good to hear.” your mother smiled gently.

Just when you wanted to continue to talk, the front door opened, and your brother and father came in. You brother hugged you, then went to hug your mother.

“Captain Levi!” your brother burst out. “You have been going out with captain Levi this whole time?” he asked you.

“Yeah, don’t be jealous.”

“It’s an honour to meet you.” (Y/B/N) told the captain, ignoring you.

Levi quickly started to relax around your family, and you were all chatting together, talking about the military and what your day looked like. After a few hours of discussion, you still did not find the right moment to tell them about your pregnancy.

“When are you going to tell them?” Levi whispered to you.

“I don’t know how to, it feels weird.”

“Do you want me to tell them?”

“No, I’ll do it. I can do this.” you cleared your throat loudly to bring their attention to you and stood up. “I came with Levi today because we had something to tell you.”

“Yes?” your mother smiled.

“I am pregnant.” you announced with a big smile.

“Oh, my dear, that is wonderful!” your mother cried happily.

Your family congratulated the two of you and asked a ton of questions about when it happened, and what you planned to do once the baby arrived. After telling them that you were planning on staying at the survey corps after the baby came. You would probably be less involved, but you could not leave your second family. At night, after taking the extra food your mother had prepared, you left.

“Why aren’t you guys sleeping?” you said seeing the cadets at the entrance.

“We were waiting for you.” Armin said.

“Is that food for us?” Sasha asked excited.

“No.” Levi answered. “Y/N is tired, so leave.”

“I’m fine, I’ll take the food to the kitchen and we can eat this together tomorrow.” you told them. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you won’t be able to wake up tomorrow.” you warned them leaving with Levi.

—————

The first few weeks of the pregnancy were going well – you worked in the office with Levi mostly, but you would also help Hange with their paperwork. Being pregnant as a survey corps soldier meant being able to have extra food during meals, being able to skip cleaning duties. You could sleep in late in the morning and no one would say anything to you.

When your baby bump started to show and you could not fit into your pants anywhere, you would go around in either dresses or in Erwin’s pants that you cut so it would not be too long.

When you were seven months pregnant, Levi started to become more and more protective of you. He would not let you carry anything, not even your food tray. He forbad the cadets to come even near you knowing how reckless they were. Only Mikasa and Armin were allowed to come and help you. Which obviously upset the other cadets.

“But dad that’s so unfair! I want to help mom too!” Jean pleaded.

“Fine, Jean you can help.” Levi finally accepted only because Jean called him dad which was one of Levi’s weak spot.

“Me too then!” the others shouted which only made Levi walk away.

When you heard about it, you reassured them that it was ok for them to stay around you. Around that time, you also stopped wearing your shoes since you could not put them on, on your own. You walked around in your slippers all the time.  

Nine months into the pregnancy and Levi never let you out of his sight. He would rest in bed with you the whole time.

“What do you want to name our baby?” you asked him one night.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it much.”

“I was thinking about naming her after your mother if it was a girl.”

“What?” Levi asked.

“If you don’t want to it’s fine too!” you quickly shrug it off. “It’s just–.”

“I’d like that. It’s a great idea.” Levi cut you, “I just thought… I didn’t think you would like that name.”

“Of course, I do! What if it’s a boy?”

You both brainstormed all the ideas you had before falling asleep.

You were outside with Levi during his training sessions with the cadets with a book. They were all taking a break, so you decided to join them, but when you stood up you felt something weird between your legs.

“Captain! Mom just peed herself!” Eren yelled panicking.

“Her water broke you idiot!” Sasha yelled at Eren.

Levi was definitely panicking like Eren, but he would not show it. You took a carriage with Levi direction your doctor’s house. After a few hours of labour, the baby was still inside of you.

“I can’t do that anymore.” you breathed heavily. “Just take it out!” you yelled, taking Levi hand in yours.

“It’s here, just push one last time.”

You let out a last scream and pushed as hard as you could before you heard cries.

The doctor cleaned then wrapped the baby in a blanket before giving it to Levi.

“Hello.” Levi whispered to his child.

“Is it a girl?” you asked weakly.

“It is.” Levi said looking into your eyes lovingly.

“That’s good.” you smiled when you heard a knock on the door.

“Hello.” Erwin came in with Hange and the cadets behind him. “They insisted on coming with us.”

“We bought you some flowers.” Connie handed you the bouquet.

“My favourite, thank you so much.” you teared up.

“You idiot you made her cry.” Sasha hit Connie behind the head.

“Mikasa’s the one you picked the flowers.” Connie defended himself.

“I love the flowers you guys. I’m just very tired and extra emotional.”

“Do we have a baby brother or sister?” Armin asked.

“You have a sister now.” Levi answered. “This is Kuchel.”

“Can I hold her?” Erwin asked.

“Well,” you started, “you are the godfather, of course you can.”

“Me too.” Hange exclaimed.

“You, maybe later.” Levi stated. “In a year or two, so when you drop her, she would be fine.”

“It happened once when you taught us how to hold babies.” Hange mumbled.

They were all around the new-born while Levi was laying down next to you, your head resting on his shoulder.

“You have the best mother in the world Kuchel, you’re so lucky.” Armin whispered to the baby.

—————

One night, at the boys’ dorm, a few months after Kuchel was born–

“Do you think it’s weird for us to call squad leader Y/N ‘mom’?” Eren asked. “Now that she has her own, real kid, what does that make us?” Eren continued. “We’re just a bunch of cadets again to her.”

“Why are you always thinking so negatively?” Jean sighed.

“They’re not our parents.” Eren stated sadly.

“Can you stop being so pessimistic for a minute?” Armin shouted. “She is the closest mother figure I had since I was a child, so stop this. Plus, it’s not like ever corrects us when we do. So just stop, please.”

  You obviously noticed Eren’s attitude changing towards you – you tried to talk to him, but he kept avoiding you. You asked Armin and Mikasa about it and Armin just told you not to worry about it which was not possible.

One night, as Eren was taking a walk on the training grounds, you approached him silently.

“Are you ready to talk now?” you asked him. “And don’t even think about leaving before telling me.”

“I’m fine.” Eren said avoiding your gaze.

“Eren.”

“Squad leader Y/N.”

“Since when do you call me that?” you retorted.

“It is your name.”

“If there is something wrong, you can tell me. I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“You have a kid now; you can’t worry about me– about us.”

“What?” you asked confused. “Why not?”

“Because!” Eren yelled.

“Because what?” you kept your voice calm and low.

“Because you’re not my mother! And I’m not your kid. We’re just a bunch of soldiers.” Eren cried out. “You have a real kid now, there’s no need to play family anymore.”

“Is that what you think? Is that what you all think?” you asked but Eren did not answer, “Eren… I may not be your birth mother and I would never dare to replace yours, but you are family to me. You all are. Seeing you all calling me ‘mom’ is fine, if you see me as a mother figure – it’s fine. Because I see you all as my grown-up children.” you teared up. “And that’s not going to change with Kuchel around.”

“You haven’t been spending as much time with us as you used too.” Eren guessed hesitating.

“I haven’t been sleeping much to be honest. Kuchel is crying a lot at night. That does not mean I forgot about you. Or you guys.” you turned around finding the rest of the cadets hiding behind the pillars.

“We weren’t spying!” Jean said. “We just… happen to be there.”

“I’m sorry.” Eren apologise. “I’m a terr–.”

“You’re not. You’re amazing Eren.” you hugged him which resulted in all the other boys joining the hug.

From the window of Levi office, he could see you guys hugging.

“See Kuchel,” Levi pointed at you while holding his daughter, “They are weirdos.” he sighed. “Your mother loves them though. I find them tolerable. I guess you can see them as your older brothers and sisters. You’ll grow up with a big family which is great. I’m sure you’ll love them as much as your mother do.”

—————

RANDOM FACTS ABOUT YOUR PREGNANCY

Levi would talk to your baby bump when you were asleep.

You would be often seen with vegetables in your hand – always eating them as snacks.

You would cry for absolutely no reason too. The first time it happened, Levi was worried sick. You had dropped your apple on the ground and started to cry. From then on, Levi would just hold you tightly until you stopped crying.

The first time it happened in from of Erwin was when he offered you a new baby blanket. He thought you did not like it, but Levi quickly reassured him that it was fine. “I– I– I looove it!” you sobbed.

The first time it happened in front of the trio – Armin, Eren and Mikasa – it was because Armin kept talking about what he read about baby stuff.

“I will be the best brother ever!” Armin promised with a big smile. “No, why are you crying?”

“This is too much for my heart!” you sobbed. “You are too sweet Armin!” you hugged him.

“I’ll be a good big brother too!” Eren said hugging you.

Mikasa from behind pushed Eren and Armin aside before taking you in her arms.

“You both made her cry, I did not. Obviously, I’m the better sibling here.”

When it happened with Connie, Sasha, and Jean –

Sasha and Connie were walking in front of you and Jean.

“This Sunday is a day off; I’ll probably go and buy something at the market with Connie and Sasha.” Jean told you, “Do you need anything?”

You tried not to let tears fall but it was too adorable for you.

“Mom! Why are you crying? I’m sorry!” Jean panicked.

“What did you do you idiot!” Connie slapped Jean on his shoulder.

“Mom don’t cry, please. Dad’s going to kill me when he’s going to find out.” Jean realised.

At the same time, Levi walked in.

“What’s going on?” Levi asked.

“Nothing!” Jean said hiding your face on his chest.

“Y/N?” Levi said. “Are you ok?” to which you only responded with a thumb up. “Are you crying again?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Jean hesitated, “I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine.” Levi said, “she’s been crying a lot these days due to the pregnancy.”

—————

RANDOM FACTS ABOUT KUCHEL

Kuchel first word is ‘clean’ – Levi is always talking about it when he is around her.

Kuchel favourite cadet would be Sasha. Sasha is only sharing her food with Kuchel and she loves food too.

Kuchel loves playing ‘to fly’ with uncle Erwin and uncle Mike – the giants of the survey corps.

You bought matching outfits for Levi, Kuchel and you which Levi secretly found adorable.

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Squad Leader Mom gets badly injured

[beels-burger-babe]

A Pain You'll Soon Regret - Pt. 2

Poly! MC Summary: MC and the demon lords get in a fight resulting in MC leaving. They planned on going to Purgatory Hall until things cool off, but they never quite make it there. Ft. Poly!MC

TW: Heavy Angst, Violence, I don't know what to tag this, but there is a pretty nasty verbal fight, Gore/Injury Vomit Part 1: HERE, Part 3: HERE, Part 4: HERE

Meanwhile at the House of Lamentation

Your leaving hadn't made the situation at the House any better. Asmodeus threw his hands up in the air and glared at the rest. "Great! Just wonderful! Now they've run off. Happy now?" venom filled his words, but he could feel his heart race in fear that he had just lost the one person who loved him for more than his looks. Satan scoffed, though he glanced at the door through the corner of his eyes. "Don't act like you're better than us. I didn't see you standing up for them." Levi growled and went straight to his room as Satan and Asmodeus began to argue. Beel took a step towards to door you had just marched out of and glance between it and his brothers. "Should we go after them? It's dark and they're drunk."

Lucifer lifted his chin as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Why should we? It's like they said, they don't want to depend on us anymore, fine. Let them see for themself how far they get without our protection," with those words, Lucifer turned on his heel and stormed to his office.

Beel sighed and looked at Belphie, "What do you think? We can go get them together?" Belphie stared at the door for a minute, a guilty look in his eyes, before he shook his head. "Give them space, Beel. They're probably heading for Purgatory Hall. Simeon and the others can take care of them for tonight. Right now we all just need to calm down before facing each other again," he patted his twin's shoulder before heading to their room; regret swirling in his stomach as he thought of how he betrayed you once more.

Mammon stood frozen staring at the door like he still hadn't made up his mind on what he wanted to do. His instincts screamed at him to get you back in his arms and keep you there. You were his human, reckless or not, and he had a duty to protect you both as your assigned protector and as your boyfriend. But for some reason, he couldn't seem to move his feet. His mind replayed the discussion in his head over and over again. He had once told MC that if they couldn't be saved by him, to make sure that they died. That he was the only one allowed to protect them. Tonight, as everyone was fighting, MC needed him to protect them, but instead, he pushed them towards the wolves. He let his greed get the best of him. "Fuck," Mammon cursed to himself as he shook himself out of his thoughts. He glanced over to see Beel restraining Satan from pouncing onto a sneering Asmodeus. He sighed and shook his head. They hadn't fought like this in a long time. You had always been there to put them into their place. Now look at them. Mammon groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Will you guys cut it out? MC is gone, okay? Ain't nothin' we can do about it now," to his surprise, his younger brothers actually stopped and seemed to be listening to him. Mammon huffed and began walking towards the stairs. "It's like Belphie said. We ain't in no place to make things better right now. Fightin' like this is what got us in this position, so quit it. Get some sleep. We'll figure it all in the mornin'." Beel, Satan and Asmodeus blinked at their older brother as he disappeared upstairs. Seeing Mammon mature and take control of the situation like that, was strange, but not unfamiliar. Asmodeus massaged his temples with one hand and fixed his hair with the other. "Ugh, all this fighting is going to be horrid for my skin," he glanced at the door one more time with a defeated look before heading towards his room. Satan clenched and unclenched his hands a couple of times, taking a few deep breaths, before silently nodding at Beel and walking away. All alone, Beel stepped towards the door. He opened it and looked out at the dark vast of the Devildom before him. With a heavy, guilty heart, he closed the door and pressed his forehead against it. He used one hand to lock the door for the evening, while the other pulled out his D.D.D. The others didn't want him going after you, but a message couldn't hurt, right? He opened your contact and wrote out his text, "Hey MC. I'm sorry for how things happened tonight. Things got out of hand, and I'm sorry for not doing anything to stop that. I know you and the others are upset right now, but I was hoping that tomorrow, once we're all calm, you could come back home and we could talk about it?" Beel sat by the door for half an hour waiting for a response, but none ever came. He frowned and glanced up at the locked door handle before shaking his head. "Maybe they left it on silent for a bit," he mumbled to himself before picking up his phone once more. "Text me when you get to Purgatory Hall. You don't need to say anything else. I just want to know you're safe." With that, Beel headed towards the gym. He wasn't tired. He wasn't hungry. He just wanted you home, but he couldn't have that. So in the meantime, he'd stay awake until he at least knew you were safe.

Only the morning came and went, and there was no word from you. The brothers were starting to get concerned. No matter what was said last night, they still loved you. You all needed to talk, yes, and things needed to be worked out, but that didn't change how they felt for you. They would never want to see you hurt. Lucifer had reached out to Simeon, while Asmodeus contacted Solomon and Beel texted Luke. Only Beel received a response. "Never contact me again. If you come anywhere near Purgatory Hall, I will not hesitate to smite you in an instant, you foul fiend?" Satan read out loud as he passed the phone back to a very confused and worried Beel. "What in the world did you do to him?" "Nothing. At least, I don't think," he thought about for a second. "I've stolen his baked goods on occasion, but besides complaining about as I did it, he never seemed to hold a grudge." Lucifer frowned deeply. "This is clearly about MC. Luke has taken to them as though they're his older sibling."

Levi scowled and pressed a few buttons on his game. "Sure they aren't dating him too?" he yelped as Asmodeus smacked him on the back of the head. "Stop it," Asmodeus growled. "I know you're the Avatar of Envy, Levi, but MC was open and honest with us. They told us that they loved us all and that they wanted a relationship with all of us. We all listened to what they offered and agreed. You agreed to this!"

Levi huffed and put down his game. "Because it was better than not having them at all!" he sighed and put an arm over his face. "I know that they love me, and them being with a-all of us doesn't change that, but it's so hard sometimes. I-I-I just-" "Want 'em to yourself?" Mammon provided. Levi blushed and nodded in response. Mammon shrugged and sat down beside him. "We all understand that Levi. This is somethin' new for all of us. When I see MC bein' sweet with you guys I get this urge to just rip 'em off ya and hold 'em tight in my arms where ya guys can never touch 'em again," he sighed and put a hand on Levi's shoulder, "but then I see MC smile at me the same way they smile at Beel or you or Lucifer. I know that when I'm holdin' them, they're thinkin' of me and they're there with me because they treasure our time together. It's hard sometimes, and it hurts to admit, but you guys make MC happy, and I can't take that away from them." He nudged his younger brother gently, "Neither can you." Everyone sat quietly as they thought of Mammon's words. "They always bring me snacks after my workouts," Beel said with a small smile. "They always seem to know when I'm hungry and would just whip out snacks out of nowhere." Satan leaned onto his knees from where he sat on his chair. "They ordered me their favourite books from the human world on Akuzon. They wanted to do a trade. I'd read their favourites and they'd read mine. That way we could learn a bit about each other just by reading something that the other loved and would understand one another a little better." Belphie tiredly rubbed his eyes and leaned against Beel. "They wake me up after all class and before any meals," he chuckled softly at the memory. "No matter how much I snarled or insulted them, they'd just put their hands on their hips and patiently wait for me to wake up so that I wouldn't miss any of my classes or any meals."

Asmodeus giggled and smiled brightly. "That alone proves how much of an angel they are. Your demon side really shows when you're woken up." The others laughed as Belphegor stuck his tongue out at Asmo. "They would always give me their opinion on my outfits. I know it seems impossible, but even I get torn between which outfit I should bless the public with sometimes. MC would always be the voice of reason to help me choose," his eyes softened, "Though they always said at the end that the most beautiful thing about me was my heart, something no one could see but radiated from the outside-in." Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes as he put aside his pride, and spoke. "They check on me in the middle of the night. I swear they have an alarm. They'll come into my office to see if I'm still awake. If I am, so long as the work isn't truly urgent, they'll poke my cheek and play with my hair until I give in and go to bed."

Everyone turned to Levi. The otaku's face was bright red as he avoided everyone's gaze. "Your turn, Levi," Mammon ordered. "Come on. I know that MC's super gentle with ya. Ya have to have somethin' to add." Leviathan pouted before mumbling. "They'll hold my hand when we're in crowds and in public because they know how anxious it makes me. If I start to freak out, they'll just gently squeeze my hand and pull me along until they can find a quiet space where I can calm down a bit," he groans and glares at Mammon. "What's your point?"

"His point," Satan began calmly, "is that MC loves us all equally. They take special care to do the little things to ensure that we all know that we are loved by them." Mammon nodded and pointed and Satan. "Exactly!" Lucifer hummed in thought. "Though this doesn't fix the problem of MC having no regard for their own safety." Everyone winced. There was no denying that. You admitted it yourself. You were reckless, and in a place like the Devildom, that kind of behaviour would get you killed one day. What would happen if you weren't with them one day? Just like you currently weren't. Memories of your storm out swirled in all of their heads, and concern pooled heavily in their stomachs. "Has anyone heard from them yet?" Belphie asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous. But then again, he was always protective of you as he never wanted you to get hurt again, especially since he had been responsible for so much of your pain in the past. Beel opened his mouth to respond when Asmodeus's D.D.D. went off. Everyone eagerly stood, as Asmo pulled out the device and answered it without checking. "MC? Are you alright?" "Put it on speaker!" Levi snapped, crowding as close to his brother as he could. Asmodeus nodded and quickly did as told. The voice that answered wasn't you, as they had all hoped, but rather Solomon. "I'm afraid they're not," the brother's felt their blood freeze at Solomon's words, as time seemed to stand still around them. Solomon's voice was cold and stern, showing his obvious anger at the demons. "I apologize for not contacting you all sooner, but I was spending every last second of my time and energy on trying to keep MC from dying of blood loss. That, and Luke is quite determined to keep the lot of you as far from MC as possible. If it was up to him I wouldn't even be calling you all right now. I, however, figured that you should at least be made aware of their condition." None of them heard a thing after the words "dying from blood loss" reached their ears. Lucifer took the D.D.D. from Asmo's shaking hands. "What happened? The last we saw them they-" "Presumably walked away from a fight with all of you and was trying to come to us. Yes. I'm aware. I read Beelzebub's texts on MC's phone," everyone glanced at Beel. His brows narrowed as he kept his eyes fixed on the D.D.D. "To answer your question, MC didn't make it to Purgatory Hall last night. They were jumped by a group of three demons who seemed to think that human would make a delectable midnight snack. What do you think, Beelzebub? Is that true? Is the taste of human flesh, really so delicious? I think I've heard you comment as much once or twice before you all began your relationship," Solomon spat the words accusingly. Fury danced on his tongue as though he was Wrath himself. Beel winced back and put a hand on his stomach as flipped inside of him. Belphie growled at the mention in his defence. "Stop dancing around the subject and get to the point. What happened? Are they okay?" The demons were surprised to hear a snarl come from the other end. "I already told you, they aren't. Luke had opened a window to air out some of the kitchens after he failed a new recipe he was trying out when he heard their screams. By the time we got there one of them had eaten half of their right leg, while was one biting along their shoulder, and the other was trying to choke them to death. Simeon and I were able to get the heathens off of them and incinerated them on the spot, but MC was already unconscious. While we were fighting the demons, Luke was just barely able to cast enough healing spells to stop the bleeding and stabilize them. Simeon and I have been working ever since on using every spell, charm, and potion that we know to keep them alive and somehow attempt to heal their injuries." At the mention of MC's leg have been mostly eaten, Beel turned and threw up on the ground. No one moved to comfort him, as they were too distracted by their own states of shock. "A-Are-" Mammon began to choke out before clearing his throat. "Are they

alive? Please tell me they're alive." The answer hung just out of their grasp. Waving dangerously above them like a deadly knife held up by a string. No matter what the response would be, all the brothers felt as though they may faint. "They're alive. Simeon had to use all his power to bring their blood count levels up to a healthy level, and their shoulder was dislocated, they most likely have a concussion going off of their head injury, not to mention their right leg was unsalvagable and had to be amputated, but yes. They are, at the very least, alive." Mammon joined Beel. Satan stood still, though he had changed into his demon form and the aura of pure wrath filled every cranny of the room. Asmodeus held a hand over his mouth as tears streamed steadily down his face. Leviathan had stumbled away from the group and was in the beginning stages of a panic attack. Belphie stared at the phone with a bewildered expression, his eyes pricked with tears, as though he couldn't believe the words coming from Solomon's mouth.

Lucifer was doing everything he could not to hurl the phone across the room.

Solomon continued. "Luke is currently watching them and making sure that they remain stable, while Simeon and I rest. As such, you will have no luck if you try to see them right now. I'll text you when I wake up and then you can come to see them," with that, Solomon hung up. Anxiety, grief, and remorse clung to each of the brothers like a new skin. Earlier they were arguing that all of them had your love, and because of that, all of them had nearly lost you. ***Duh duh duh!!! Part three to come. Part three will probably be the final part, but I don't know. Haven't quite figured out how this is going to end yet. Though a heads up, a may fill out another request before pt. 3 is up just to give me a break from the heavy angst. Thank you all so much for supporting me! And thank you to @millenniumofpain for the request!***

[heliads]

Deserve You

Based on this request: “Bucky imagine where you're dating but you're not an avenger, so you sometimes feel not good at all for him even though he loves you more than anything. one time he comes from a mission to you waiting in his room, doubting again but he immediately tries getting this thought out of you and gives you his dog tags to prove he's yours forever and it's all cute then? :)”

masterlist

You open your eyes gradually, the last remnants of sleep being dragged away by the brightness of dawn. You allow yourself one final moment of lingering silence before sitting up with a yawn. A brief spurt of panic flashes across you when you realize that you’re alone in your bed, but then you hear a quiet noise from the kitchen and your pulse begins to settle once more. Bucky must have already gotten up, there’s no need to worry.

You keep having moments like this, where you turn to find yourself alone and keep thinking that this is it, that he’s finally left you. Then you mentally chide yourself for thinking that way- every single one of the Avengers that you’ve met on your trips to the old Stark Tower keeps talking about how Bucky’s head over heels for you, so why would he ghost you out of nowhere? You always smile for a second, thinking about your boyfriend, and then the doubt creeps back in and you glance around to find him. Every single time, without fail, those lurking remnants of doubt always worm back into your mind, and sometimes it feels like there’s nothing you can do to get rid of them.

The only available option is to find Bucky and put your mind at ease by knowing that he’s still here. So, you slide your legs out of the still-warm blankets, grimacing at the shock of the cold air, and pad over to the kitchen. Sure enough, Bucky is holding a mug of some hot beverage, maybe coffee or tea, and staring out the window at the city below him. He does this, sometimes, just watches the city like he could do it for hours. You have a feeling that he’s studying the city for any last lingering resemblance to the New York he’d grown up in, when the most pressing news was World War II and he didn’t see himself in Siberia for anything more than a ski trip, if he could put together enough pennies to afford it. However, life has a way of throwing you for a loop, and all of Bucky’s plans for the future evaporated as soon as he plummeted from the train all those years ago.

Bucky turns when he hears you approach. “Good morning.” You smile, joining him by the window. “Good morning yourself. Are you up early for an assignment or because of a nightmare?” Bucky frowns. “The latter. Did I wake you? I thought I was quiet.” You shake your head. “No, I was asleep the whole time. I just knew because you have that same look on your face after you have your nightmares.” Bucky laughs quietly. “And here I thought I was supposed to be the spy who knew everything. Sure you don’t want a job at S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not sure that paying attention to my boyfriend really qualifies me for FBI: Avengers Edition, but I’ll keep it in mind.” You head over to the fridge, starting to pull out some items for breakfast. Bucky leaves within a few minutes, mumbling something about an early morning meeting, and you head to work yourself soon after. Your own workplace is no Avengers Tower, just a typical office building, and you slide into your seat just in time to start the day.

The morning itself is fairly uneventful, and you’re just starting to think that it’s going to be another boring day as usual when you head off to your lunch break. As you’re waiting in line to use the microwave, you hear a pair of women talking at a table near you. You had no intention of eavesdropping, but although their voices are fairly loud your attention was hooked from the beginning when you realize they’re talking about Bucky. More specifically, they’re talking about Bucky’s girlfriend, or lack thereof.

Ever since you started dating Bucky, he had been careful to keep you out of the public eye. When you work as an Avenger for long enough, you learn to keep everyone important to you out of focus, out of danger. If a HYDRA agent got word of the former Winter Soldier’s girlfriend, you’d be on a train to Siberia with handcuffs and a blindfold within the hour, a ransom request already placed on your head. That’s if they were patient- if not, they would just shoot you to send a message. By making sure nobody heard about you, Bucky could keep you safe.

The downside of this is times like now, when you have to listen to two of your coworkers discussing how strange it is that a man as attractive as James Barnes would still be single. Obviously, you can’t say anything, and you’re not sure that they’d believe you if you tried, but it’s still slightly uncomfortable to hear the conversation swirling around you even as you have to stay silent. 

One of the women clicks her tongue in confusion. “I mean, isn’t it weird, though? He’s a friend of Tony Stark, there’s no doubt he’d have a shortage of girls who’d be willing to go out to a bar or something on a weekend.” The other woman laughs. “I bet that surplus of girls includes you, right?” The first woman grins cheekily. “I wouldn’t say no if he asked, but even I don’t have a chance. I mean, he’s an Avenger, and one of the hottest ones there. No one here could hold a candle to him. He saves lives on a daily basis and what do we do, sit around all the time? The only woman I could see him with is an agent or maybe Black Widow. At least then he’d be dating someone who’s his equal.”

The words feel like shards of ice threading through your heart, and you turn to go back to your desk, hunger suddenly forgotten. As you stare at your work, though, you find you can’t concentrate. You keep hearing what the women had said, that no one in this miserable office could be worthy of dating the famous Avenger Bucky Barnes. They’re right, aren’t they? Bucky was saving lives all the time while you complained and acted so needy. You sigh to yourself, feeling your spirits dampen by the second. Why did Bucky see in you anyway?

Bucky’s shoulders feel like they’ve been carved from stone. He’s been tense for so long that he’s certain he’ll never be able to move again. Today is the day that he has to begin reviewing case files from his time as a Winter Soldier. He’ll have to come face to face with photo and video evidence of all the wrongs he’s done, of all the killings and blood shed by his own damaged hands. He’s been trying to avoid it for a while, but S.H.I.E.L.D. needs his input on all of the past Winter Soldier missions in order to proceed with the ongoing investigations into the last HYDRA strongholds. Bucky has no choice but to confront his past, he knows that, but it doesn’t make his job any easier.

It’s not like he’s alone, though. Natasha is here, because her experience with the Red Room could prove useful with putting together some pieces of the HYDRA-Siberia-Soviet puzzle that’s been plaguing them for some time now. Steve is also here, one door down, looking at his old medical files that detail exactly how some brilliant scientists turned a scrawny kid with a death wish when it came to standing up to bullies into the strongest man of the century. 

Bucky clenches his jaw, and turns back to the manila file folder in his hand. He flips it open, taking out the diagrams and security camera stills and laying them out onto the table before him as he reads. He’s flipping through the rest of the contents of the folder when he pauses, staring at the images awaiting his acknowledgement. Natasha sees him freeze slightly and glances over to see what’s troubling him. Her brow dips in understanding.

Lying before him are photo after photo of death and destruction. Bucky remembers this day now, after it was buried so long under HYDRA mind wipes and his own crippling want to forget. The bodies of the dead line a small street, buildings reduced to rubble. He can see the dead, so many of them. There aren’t just the few military commanders he was sent to exterminate- no, HYDRA wants no witnesses and so Bucky had killed everyone in sight. There are children in pools of blood, their mothers reaching over them as if to shield them from the inevitable bullets coming their way. He tells himself that their deaths were quick, efficient, maybe even painless, but it is not enough. There is no way to justify this amount of bloodshed.

Natasha puts her hand on his shoulder. The gesture, meant to bring comfort, startles him and it takes all of Bucky’s self-control to not flinch. Bucky swallows hard. “I did all of this. I killed every one of them.” Natasha’s voice is low and quiet. “It wasn’t you. You had no choice in any of this.” Bucky laughs, thought it is heavy with horror and breaks in upon itself. “It’s easier to say that, but it was still my hand pulling the trigger.” He leans back against the wall, trying to steady himself.

“How were you and Steve able to convince anyone to trust me? Why did you even want to save me in the first place?” Natasha stares at the photos, taking in the broken bodies of the dead. “Steve knew the real you, the one who’s standing here right now and would never attempt this sort of carnage. I knew what it was like to lose all control and feel like your hands would always be stained with blood. Second chances are more powerful than you might think.”

Bucky shakes his head slowly. “I don’t deserve that chance. I don’t deserve any of this.” He closes his eyes for just a second as if by blocking out the world he can block out the memory of the methodical shudder of the rifle in his hands, the recoil as he fired again and again. “I don’t deserve Y/N. She-” Natasha cuts him off smoothly. “Y/N knows what you’ve been through, and she knows that you are not that same man. I’ve spoken with her before, and she knows the full extent of what you did.”

Bucky’s eyes cut back to the photographs. “Then why does she stay?” Natasha’s gaze feels like a leaden weight, unflinching and unyielding. “She stays because she loves you. She stays because she knows that the real Bucky Barnes is a hero, someone who is willing and able to move on from their past. Y/N is one of the most important parts of your life, not because she’s a good kisser but because she’s one of the only people who can see straight through you and know that you’re a good man.” 

Bucky nods. “I don’t need you to tell me twice.” Natasha’s right, though, and even the barest mention of Y/N brings back a wave of good memories to fight against the bad. She’s like an anchor, someone holding him in place even when all of the darkness he’s had to endure threatens to pull him under. It astonishes him sometimes that he still wakes up beside her every morning. She’s so perfect, so wonderful. What does Y/N see in him anyway that would make him so lucky to have her with him?

You’re in a despondent mood for the rest of the day. You slump home, not even bothering to turn on the lights but discarding your coat and bag in the dark of the room. The faint light still shining through the windows is all you’ll need. You stare unthinkingly at the apartment for a while, then head to your bedroom. As you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you stop with a sigh, leaning your hands against the dresser underneath.

You stare at yourself, at the dark circles under your eyes. Who are you, anyway? Who are you to think that you would ever be good enough for an Avenger? At this point, it’s only a matter of days before he breaks up with you. No wonder he keeps waking up before you- he’s trying to leave without seeing you that often, as a way to lessen the blow of the eventual goodbye.

The problem about gloomy thoughts is that they tend to wrap around you, pulling you away from everything else. You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the front door open, and you don’t notice Bucky enter the apartment until he knocks softly on the wall of your bedroom as he stands in the open door. You turn around with a flash, plastering on a smile, but your reaction is too late and his brow furrows. “Are you alright?”

You try for a smile, reaching out to kiss him in greeting. “Of course I am. How was your day?” Bucky is not to be deterred. “I saw your face, Y/N. You looked really upset. Is everything okay?” Maybe it’s that velvet tone of his, or the concern laced in his eyes, but your few fragile defenses break down. You turn to him, fighting back tears. “Why are you still with me?” Bucky frowns. “What?” You hold your hands up uselessly. “You’re an Avenger and you’re out there saving lives all the time. Why would you ever be interested in some girl from the city? I’m not half the person you are.”

Bucky stares at you for a second, then wraps his arms around you, drawing you close. “Y/N, love, why would you ever think that?” You look away. “Because it’s true. You should be dating some other superhero of a woman who could be your equal.” Bucky’s frown tinges slightly with anger. “Did you hear about this on some news show? I told that one news outlet that if they said a single thing about me I’d shut them down, and I’ll do it-” You cut him off. “It’s not like that. It’s just- You’re an Avenger, Bucky, and you deserve someone equally as brave as you are.”

Bucky guides you gently over to the bed, and the two of you sit down on the edge. He pulls you into his arms. “I don’t want some superhero. I want you. Y/N, I love you because you’re the only one here who sees me for who I really am, not just some soulless Avenger but a faulty person. Honestly, if anything I’m surprised that you’d still stay with me.” Your tears dry up as you stare at him. “What?” A quiet smile spreads across Bucky’s lips. “Every single day, I come home and you make a difficult day a thousand times better. You know me better than I know myself, and even despite everything I’ve done and the monster I’ve been, you still make me feel like a good man again. You’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met, Y/N, and you deserve someone equally as good as you are.”

You shake your head slowly. “That’s not the same. Anyone can be nice.” Bucky cups your cheek in his hand. “Nobody else knows that I always get up in the mornings and pace around because of the nightmares. Nobody else knows that I always stare down the alleyways on the walk home because I keep thinking I’ll see Steve in there getting beat up, or help me pick out jackets based on how easy it will be to remove the left sleeve. You’re the only one for me, doll, and I wouldn’t trade you for a heartbeat.”

He reaches into a pocket. “Here, I’ll prove it.” He takes out something silvery, like stamped metal. With a jolt, you realize they’re his dog tags, the ones he had from fighting in World War II all those years ago. He gestures for you to turn around and you do, feeling the weight of the metal around your throat as he fastens them. When you look back at him, he’s smiling. “See? You can’t get rid of me, love. Not in a million years.” 

You smile, running your fingers over the faded lettering. “Won’t you want them? You know, as a memory of your old life?” Bucky shakes his head, a content expression lingering in his eyes. “I don’t need them to remember. I’ve got you, and you’re the only home I’ll ever need.” When he kisses you again, you can feel the dog tags right over your heart, like a promise that he’ll always be with you, no matter what.

[thegeminisage]

wait go on i unironically want your thoughts on john calling the car vs dean saying "she"

okay.

firstly, we are discussing the tags on this post

secondly, i want everybody to know that this meta is the reason i ended up cracking open john winchester’s journal last night and became patient zero for this whole damn website spiraling about dean killing dead gay nuns. it’s all because of this! this is why we’re here today! stupid car pronoun meta!

anyway.

this is jumping off the idea that the car is not just an extension of dean’s soul but his body and hhhhholy fuck when did that get that many notes. alright! anyway to recap: the car is an extension of dean - he lashes out at her in his moment of ultimate self-loathing (2.01), she becomes dirty and neglected when dean is in emotional turmoil (1.21, 13.01), she’s damaged when he’s hurt (in 2.01, in 5.22, just to name a couple of the most iconic examples), she was kept under a tarp (shroud!) during the year dean was emotionally dead (season 5/6 timeskip) and after dean ACTUALLY died for good in the accursed finale (she even showed up in heaven because obviously she’d go wherever he did), he is able to kill monsters with her, making her body a weapon just like his is (11.04), she and dean even get stolen/kidnapped at the same time (also 11.04). she’s full of personalization and personal items - sam and dean carved their initials into her, the legos and the toy soldier in the ashtray - this is akin to dean wearing sam’s amulet and his father’s jacket. he’s picky about who drives her (because there are a very limited number of people he trusts with his physical safety), he knows her inside and out the way one knows themselves, etc. 

dean also frequently refers to the car as both his only worldly possession and his home - she gives him a place to sleep, eat, and fuck when there’s nowhere else available. she gives him shelter in a world where there is none, privacy in a life that affords very little personal space.

dean, for the above reasons and more, treats the car like a person. he refers to her as “she” (almost exclusively - he used “it” when convincing a young john to buy her during 4.03, and there might be some early season examples i’m forgetting, but for the most part his pronoun usage is solid), he takes care of her better than he takes care of himself, devoting the kind of time and effort to her upkeep that he only devotes to family. she’s the woman of the family, so to speak, kind of the way dean is - they’re both acting as the stand-in for the missing mary, and he cherishes and values her. (the way a healthy individual might value themselves and their own physical well-being, if they didn’t have dean’s self-loathing attached.)

john, on the other hand, calls the car “it.” which isn’t really that weird by itself because most people use it pronouns for cars (sam calls the car an it too, it’s not necessarily an indicator of anything malevolent), except for the fact that john is a mechanic. much like a sailor is more likely to call a boat “she,” you’d think a mechanic would be similarly inclined to humanizing cars. considering that john was the one who TAUGHT dean how to care for a car, you’d think dean’s usage of “she” was yet another learned behavior, along with dean’s jacket and music and hypermasculinity. 

but john never refers to the car as “she,” only “it.” john may place some emotional value on the car, just the way he places some emotional value on dean, but NOTHING comes before his quest to avenge mary. (if you were wondering, this is what sam was doing while dean was killing dead gay nuns.)

the car is important, but her biggest importance lies not in her being part of the family, but in her being part of the hunt. she’s a tool, a blunt instrument, just like dean. john uses her to get places and cart his kids around the country and sleep when he has nowhere else to go. 

a good example of how john only sorta-kinda values the car can be found in his journal entry for dean’s 18th birthday:

john wanted to give dean SOMETHING, and while he was reluctant to part with the car (“i’ll still be driving it”), but when push came to shove and he couldn’t find anything else, she did just fine in a pinch. 

could you imagine dean EVER giving away his car? every time he has, it’s been prior to his own death, or what he thought would be his death. and aside from the times when no family was around (2.10 comes to mind), she was always given to a member of his family, blood or otherwise - usually sam, who dean knows best and trusts above all others.

since the car is dean’s body, you can pretty directly compare this to john holding dean’s own physical freedom and autonomy over his head well after he reaches the age of traditional adulthood. that john only truly let dean be in charge or the car and keep it for himself once john ABANDONED him speaks more to john’s interest in controlling his tools than it does to him wanting to do something kind for dean.

the car is dean, and dean is the car. for dean, this means she is the only way he is able to take care of and love himself, even if in a very roundabout way. for john, that means caring a little - but not caring about anything more than mary. in the end, everything, even dean’s own humanity, comes second to revenge. no matter how perfect and powerful your tools and weapons are, no matter how much you may care about them, they’re made to be used - and, when they’ve outlived their usefulness, to be discarded.

[spn masterpost]

[inkybinkyboink]

hjsfhjdjd forgive me father bc i have stooped so low as to write hond grocery store headcanons bc thats what its come to

k so clopin right like it’s been discussed how this man is with strangers so i dont think hed be super endearing but i think he definitely understands how shitty kind of blue collar jobs can be, how the cashiers and managers are actual people with lives so he says hello and bags to make it a little easier. he’s the saint that actually leaves the heavy stuff in the cart or lifts it up for you to scan instead of crashing it down on the belt. man buys a lot of fruit, no pun intended he strikes me as a very fruity person. that and a lot of cooking and baking supplies, tomato sauce, spices, lemons and limes, flour, eggs, that sort of thing. coupon king like this man pulls them out of the weirdest places its insane. gets really excited when he has like points to redeem. also came up with the headcanon that even if hes not directly friendly to the person behind the counter, he’ll get up to defend them in the blink of an eye. like if someones visibly stressing them out he’ll straight up tell them to fuck off like hes ready to fight.

then we got esmerelda who’s kind of the opposite, she’s super nice to the cashier, uses endearment terms, SUPER patient if she’s buying like alcohol and the cashier is underage, like doesnt mind it at all and tries to make small talk while they’re waiting. lets people who have more stuff in line before her, just like a really calming presence but also the prettiest person you’ll see the entire day. gets a little bit of everything, lot of bakery stuff, frozens and stuff, drinks, ahh i wanna see her getting like birthday party supplies because i feel like id just be really excited for her know?

oh my god phoebus my man ok so like dude is the king of the deli section, he’ll pick up dinner a lot on his way back from work and pull up in uniform with like a bunch of food or whatever. on a warm day he pulls up in like just a tshirt tucked into pants or whatever, his hair finally tied back and out of his face. i feel like he’s also really chill, very kind but so awkward at making small talk, and he feels bad about it. he does his groceries groceries during the quiet hour days, i think that loud noises stress him out, i will die on this hill. just like your average guy, doesn’t say much, BUT, if you have like a button on your uniform that he recognizes, or like a reference or something, he fucking breaks the silence and points it out of nowhere and “hey i know that!” and then you immediately lapse into silence again because he’s too sheepish to continue the conversation, and you laugh about it with your friends later.

quasimodo’s fun bc he gets a lot of cooking supplies but then tells you what he’s using them for. like he’ll get berries and pectin and be like “im making jam :)))” or “i’m gonna try baking bread with the special flour.” like it’s really cute and he’s all polite and bags his own things and uses the cashiers name and compliments them very formally like “you did a lovely job, (name)” and then is on his merry way like he’s such a homie. definite;y comes in multiple times a week bc he keeps forgetting like one thing, and then he needs something else, etc etc. has definitely come in with both esmerelda and phoebus and theyre the best friend group you’ll see all day.

claude frollo is the worst he would buy like one thing, and its like clam juice, and still manage to stress me out about whether im ringing it in properly. if he’s buying more stuff he stares at the monitor and will immediately point out the slightest mistake. he’s a karen, he wants his deal or nothing at all. but then when you do give it to him because “the customer is ALWAYS right” he becomes really falsely nice and u just gotta grit your teeth and try not to tell him off. is absolutely that bitch who complains about the slightest thing. throughout your entire transaction you’re waiting for him to verbalize some sort of insult towards you as a queer person. claude frollo is the guy clopin tells to fuck off 100% like thats the dynamic we’re going for here.

jehan frollo is hella chill, always goes with florika, like couples coming thru the cash is stressful bc why are they SO judgmental, but then he’s like “hey i like your pronoun button” and all is well with the world. he’s like “yeah, my nephew’s friend is gay,” and then just starts rambling abt cool gay ppl and florika very gently goes “babe i need to pay” and scoots this 6ft 1 guy a few feet to the right while he keeps talking about drag shows or something. theyre both just very friendly and they’re the kind of people who remember you and say hi again if you run into them again. somehow the groceries they buy are cool? they buy like breezers and limes and avocados, and like soup ingredients if that makes sense. like you know theyre boutta cook up something GOOD for a friend gathering. 

thank you for coming to my brainrot/way of processing work with me.

[lololova]

Beyond the words - 47 reasons

Prompt: “Fic prompt I’m throwing out there: 47 Seconds arc - Beckett receives the DC job offer during the time Castle starts shutting her out.” Tweeted by @/bunysliper

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Until next time, xxxx

----------------------------------------------------------

Kate Beckett looks down at her phone, still not sure if she should call or not. How is she supposed to make a decision like this? She thinks back to the conversation with the agent from F.B.I. who’d said she’d be a great addition to the bureau if she decided to make an appointment for a job interview. She thinks back to how badly she’d wanted to tell her partner but he’d been nowhere to be seen. She thinks back to the case and how he’d all of a sudden literally been nowhere to be found every time she wanted to discuss a new lead with him. She can’t stop thinking about the glances of - what? Hate? Disgust? - that he’s kept throwing at her the past week. And she can’t think of a reason why.

“It’s like he’s pulling away,” she’d told dr. Burke no more than a couple hours ago.

“What are you most afraid of Kate? That he won’t wait for you, or that he will?” he’d asked back and she’d held back a groan.

The therapist was of no use when it came to the talking about her partner. He never gave her a straight answer when she asked something. And today has been no different.

“Argh,” she groans as she once again puts away her phone. She wants to smash something, anything. But she also knows it won’t actually help.

One part of her just wants to make the call, do the interview, get the job, move and never look back ever again. But another part of her can’t even fathom the thought of leaving her partner to never see him again. Not when they were so close! Which brings her back to the constant thought screaming in her mind for the past week. WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THEM?! Why has he pulled away? Why doesn’t he text her anymore? Why doesn’t he answer when she calls? Why is it killing her? You know why it kills you. She shrugs the voice away, tries to ignore it and pretends she didn’t hear it. But you did.

Kate feels the tears prickle her eyes as she picks up her phone once again. But instead of calling the DC-number she touches the screen until she has the photo of him covering the entire screen. It’s a photo she took not that long ago. She’d actually taken it without his knowledge, even though he’s staring at her she’d managed to take it without him figuring it was a photo she’d taken with her phone, and he just looked so relaxed and so in love with her that it made her sick to the stomach. He hasn’t been looking at her like that since their bomb case. What did she do?

Before she can do anything about it her cheeks are wet from the tears and she can’t stop the crying no matter how much she tries. Can’t stop feeling the pain of her heart aching inside her chest. It’s worse than she thought at first because suddenly it’s also hard to breathe. She tries taking deep, calming breaths, but she has a feeling it won’t help fully. What she needs is confirmation from her partner, any type of confirmation. She needs to know if he still loves her or if she’s screwed it up completely. Without thinking she’s calling his number, phone to ear as she hopes he’ll answer for once.

“Hi, you’ve reached Richard Castle. Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now but please, leave a message after the beep.” Beep.

Kate doesn’t know what to say, and so she just hangs up. Instead she goes to messages, and starts to type one out. Before she knows it she’s clicked “sent” and can see the message turn delivered before freezing. She actually sent it.

-Please give me a reason to stay in NY.-

To her surprise he answers within seconds.

-What do you mean?-

She takes a deep breath before typing out a reply. -They want me to do a job interview in DC. And right now I can’t see a reason to stay.-

She waits patiently, hoping he will answer soon.

-What makes you think I have a reason? You’ll do whatever you want anyway.-

Ouch. She sighs, thinking about all the conversations she’s had with dr. Burke about her partner. -You’re the only reason I want to stay.- She writes it and sends it before she can regret anything.

When he still hasn’t answered after ten minutes she feels disappointment in the pit of her belly. She lets her phone fall out of her hands before she sets her steps towards her bathroom. Once in there she starts to strip her clothes off. If she showers it won’t be as obvious that she’s crying. He doesn’t want her anymore and he can’t even find the words to say it.

“What are you most afraid of Kate? That he won’t wait for you, or that he will?”

That he won’t, she decides. Everything had been going so great and she knows it’s her fault it’s all falling apart but she can’t for the life of her figure out what she did. It’s killing her not knowing, but she has a feeling that even if she’d get the courage to ask him she wouldn’t get an answer. She’d just get an “We’re fine”.

Kate’s so focused on her thoughts, on trying to calm down her crying and take deep breaths, that she doesn’t hear her phone ring. She doesn’t hear the knocking later on either. It’s not until she’s walking out of the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around her body that she’s realizing she’s not alone. When she sets her foot inside the living room she lets go of a yelp when she sees her partner stand by her front door.

“I-sorry! S-sparekey,” he says as he clenches his eyes shut. “You didn’t answer,” he adds and she holds the towel a little bit tighter around her.

“What are you doing here, Castle?” she questions with a hoarse voice. She hopes he doesn’t figure out it’s because of her crying.

She observes him as he puts his hands over his eyes as if he’s making sure he won’t accidentally look at her.

“You can’t leave New York,” he says and she feels her pulse quicken.

Is he going to say what she’s hoped for during the last week?

“Why not?”

“You’re needed here, your dad is here, Ryan and Espo are here. How are they going to keep their jobs if you’re not there to help them keep the closing rate up? You already have forty-seven reasons to stay so why did you send that text to me? I don’t mean anything to you so why send those texts to me?”

She takes a step back, what makes him think she doesn’t care for him? Again, what did she do?!

“What are you talking about?” she asks, her voice raspy and she can hear the desperation herself.

He sighs and she can tell he’s about as irritated with her as she is with him. Maybe even more. “Call your dad and ask him what to do, you listen more to him than me anyway.” He starts to turn around and she sees his hands go down to reach for her apartment door again.

Oh no. She’s not going to let him get away that easily. Not when he’s the one to come to her apartment. She takes quick steps to put herself in front of him, and therefore in front of the door, blocking his way out. And she’s suddenly well aware of their height difference.

“What are you doing?” he asks and she sees his widened eyes flinch down to her chest before they focus on her eyes.

“What did I do?” she asks, emotion raw in her voice without her intention.

She’s standing here, right in front of him, literally open and naked. Completely vulnerable. With only a towel separating his eyes from seeing her body, her scar.

“Nothing, let…”

“No.” She stops him by putting one hand on his chest. “Don’t lie to me. Castle, I’m… sick and tired of this behavior! Rick, just tell me what I did to make you hate me so much!” she can’t stop the anger and frustration and pain from starting to spill from her eyes as she starts sobbing again. And here she thought she didn’t have any more tears.

She hides her face behind her hands, grateful she’d fastened the towel before she went out to the living room. Her knees start to give out and so she simply lets them, slowly moving down to a seated position on the floor. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to do, if she’s supposed to do anything else.

“Beckett?” she hears his hoarse voice ask before he clears his throat. “Kate, what… what’s going on?”

She shakes her head, she can’t form words anymore. She’s just focusing on her breathing and her attempts to stop the breakdown she’s feeling. Why is this happening right in front of him?

“Hey,” she feels his hands land on her shoulders, his thumbs electrifying against her naked skin. “Deep breaths, Kate, deep breaths,” he says in a slow soothing voice which she finally recognizes as his. The real him.

And so she does what he says, she starts taking deeper breaths to calm herself down. He keeps mumbling the mantra as she feels her body start to relax and find strength again. When she’s breathing normally again she feels his hands let go of her as he’s slumping down on the floor in front of her. She carefully looks through her lashes to glance at him.

“You okay?” he asks when his blue eyes meet hers.

She bites her lower lip before she shakes her head slightly. “No,” she tells him honestly. “One part of me wants to take that job interview to get away from you.”

He gulps. “And the other part?” he asks carefully.

She takes in a shaky breath. “One part of me… just wants… you.” She just whispers the last word, too scared to say it too loud. She’s still scared he’ll leave her and never talk to her again.

“I don’t think I can do this partnership anymore, if you only want me as a partner in crime I… I don’t think I can do it,” he tells her and she feels her insides clench.

“What do you mean? I don’t only want you at the precinct,” she whispers as she looks up at him.

He’s avoiding her eyes, concentrating on the fiddling of a piece of the rug that’s been crippled for months now.

“I heard you,” he confesses and she wrinkles her forehead. “In interrogation you told a suspect you remember everything from your shooting. You heard me telling you that I…” he sighs, “that I love you. And I assumed the reason you haven’t told me is because you don’t feel the same way. I can’t…”

Kate shakes her head violently. “No, that’s not… I was not ready to… hear it or deal with my feelings for you just yet.”

He looks up at her and she looks down as her hand runs through her hair, only to stay at her forehead, leaning against it.

“Your feelings?” he asks and she nods.

“I like you Castle,” she confesses. “I really like you. And the thought of losing you…” she has to stop to try and get the lump down her throat as she sniffs. “Just tell me now if it’s too late for us, because I can’t… I can’t…”

She feels her eyes tearing up again and isn’t able to stop them from going down her cheeks. She knows she won’t be able to talk without breaking down again.

“I still love you, I’ve tried not to but I do,” Castle confesses and Kate feels her heart skip a beat before her insides start to melt with relief.

Without missing another beat she crawls over to him and throws her arms around his neck in a hug. She’s surprised to find herself falling as he’s losing his balance, ending with Kate laying on top of him with his arms around the middle of her body.

“Sorry,” she mutters but doesn’t move away. In fact, she snuggles even closer with her head into his neck.

She hears him gulp as his hands don’t seem to know where to stay on her back. That’s when she realizes she’s still in her towel. Only her towel. She starts to roll off of him, carefully placing her hands to keep the towel from falling off. As soon as she’s off she’s sitting up, eyes on him as he, too, sits up.

“Sorry, I should probably go… get dressed,” she says with a blush exploding on her cheeks. “Will you stay?”

He nods without a word and she has a feeling it’s because he’s surprised about everything. She moves to stand and goes to her bedroom, quickly putting on some clothes, including some black yoga pants and a gray N.Y.P.D. shirt. She picks up the speed as her mind starts to wonder if he’ll actually stay or if he might’ve changed his mind and gone again without saying anything. What if he decides it was a bad idea coming here? The second her shirt is on she’s leaving her towel on the ground to go and find out if her partner is still here. When she returns to the living area she does find him in her kitchen, brewing coffee for the two of them. He looks up at her almost immediately, as if he can feel her coming into the room, or he just heard her.

“You stayed,” she breathes out in relief and he nods.

“I made coffee,” he says as he pours the black beverage into two cups. “Figured we could use some if we’re going to talk.”

“Yeah,” she says in a breath as she nods. “Good thinking.”

As she comes closer he holds out one of the cups for her to take and she accepts it with a smile and a thanks. Once he has his own cup in his hand she’s gesturing towards the couch and they both go there to sit down.

“So,” he says as she takes a sip of her coffee, “you’ve gotten a job offer in D.C.?”

She feels a blush come on. “It’s only an interview, but yeah,” she says.

“And you’re planning on…?” he asks and she looks at him with fear in her eyes.

“No,” she quickly says. “I want… I want to be with you, I want you. I don’t want to leave, I don’t want our partnership to fall apart.”

“I don’t want it to, either,” he says and she smiles. “But,” he says and her smile falters a bit, “does this mean you’re willing to give us a chance?”

She bites her lip as she looks down in her coffee for a second before he looks up again to meet his eyes. “Yes.”

“Good,” he mumbles as he takes another sip from his coffee but keeps his eyes set on hers.

She licks her lower lip and sees his eyes spark in that way they usually do when she flirts with him, or he observes her and she does those little extra teasing acts she does sometimes. Now that she knows he still loves her, she can’t help but feel the want to tease him even more. She pulls up her knees on the couch, setting her arms around them with her cup on top in order to take sips a bit now and then.

“So, do you want to stay for the night?” she asks, stretching her foot towards him to nudge his thigh with her toes.

His eyes widen a bit before they narrow with his lips turning into a smirk. His free hand, the one that doesn’t still hold his cup to his lips, sneaks down and lets his fingers run up and down her foot, making her shiver.

“If you allow me to, I will,” he promises in that deep voice he’s used so many times without even knowing the effect it has on her. He will soon.

She nods, taking the last sip of her coffee before setting the cup on her coffee table. His soon joins hers and she locks eyes with him as soon as his fingers climb from her foot to her knee along with his body growing closer to her. She sits up and meets his lips halfway, the kiss a lot more passionate than either of them had intended. Probably because of all the tension between them that went unanswered for so long. Too long. His hand on her leg doesn’t stop at her knee but keeps stroking its way up to the hem of her shirt where it continues to slide under to end up at her hip, his hand slightly touching her naked skin at the hem of her yoga pants. She gasps at the feel of his thumb stroking her skin and his mouth immediately takes advantage of her parting lips by letting his tongue find hers. As his taste fills her senses she finds herself moaning and one of her hands lands on his cheek, her fingertips moving into his hair as she holds him close. She deepens the kiss which makes him groan with her and she smiles at that, their lips pulling apart.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” she whispers against his lips, her fingers caressing his scalp.

He pulls slightly back in order to look at her and he smiles. She giggles when he kisses her nose carefully. “Always,” he says their promise to her and she feels such relief to hear it once again.

She runs her teeth on her lower lip again as she lets go of his cheek to reach for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m staying,” she says and sees his eyes fill with relief of its own. “I can’t say it just yet but I really want you. Just you.”

“I understand,” he assures her and she nods.

“Good,” she mumbles before she stands up and pulls him with her. “What do you say we go to bed?”

He smirks, but it’s so much more than just a smirk. “Lead the way.”

And so she does. And she doesn’t regret sending that text, desperately needing a reason to stay. She didn’t need the 47 other reasons he suggested she had, she only needed one. Him. And looks like she got it.

The end

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 17: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team)

for both my incredible birthday twin jenny (@laelipoo) and a little bit for myself! i hope you are having a wonderful, wonderful day and i wish you all the love in the world. i'm so glad we became friends and i cannot tell you how glad i am for our conversations 🥰🥰🥰

many, many, many thanks to jenny as well for helping me out with the plot!

ao3 | 3.1k | firefighter carlos, hurt/comfort, pining, developing relationship, major character injury (two of them 😌)

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the soft blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

The thing about Carlos Reyes is that he isn’t only stupidly hot; he’s also just plain nice. TK can’t even make up a flimsy excuse to keep his distance. Carlos is, quite literally, perfect.

He shares recipes and book recommendations with Paul, he spars with Marjan, he discusses superheroes with Mateo, and Judd has had nothing but good things to say since before Carlos even joined them. Apparently they’d worked together a lot before the explosion, when Carlos was with the 116, and he’s ‘one of the best damn firefighters’ Judd has ever seen.

He even makes time to hang with the paramedics, which...isn’t a new development, exactly. But it is recent, and TK is willing to bet they’d still be pretty divided if Tim hadn’t suddenly transferred back to Maryland and he hadn’t taken the leap to be a full paramedic.

Even after that… His friends were hardly going to abandon him after he switched, but Nancy had still only been semi-included at best. She’d called him out about it during their first week working together, but fixing it had been a slow process.

Until Carlos came along, that is. Excluding Judd, they all regularly hang out at his place now, and Nancy’s inclusion had never even been a question. Safe to say, Carlos has charmed everyone in the firehouse, including both captains, and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it.

He’s perfect, from his freakishly toned body to his infuriatingly sweet personality to his incredible skills in the field, and TK does not have a crush, goddammit!

One morning about three weeks after Carlos’s arrival, TK is greeted in the firehouse by the sound of a long, beautiful laugh coming from the kitchen. Three weeks is an embarrassingly short amount of time to admit that he’s memorised everything about him, but he instantly recognises the noise as coming from Carlos, even if he can’t see him yet.

He saunters into the kitchen, where Carlos is standing with Paul, and leans up against the counter. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Carlos turns with a winning smile and holds out a steaming mug of coffee, clearly freshly made even though TK only got in two minutes ago.

He blinks. “How—” Then, taking in the slight pinkness to Carlos’s cheeks, “Are you seriously offering me your own coffee, Reyes?”

Carlos shrugs, forcing the mug into TK’s hands. “I only just made it so technically it belongs to anyone, and I can always make another,” he says. “Besides, you look like you could use it more than me.”

His grin has TK narrowing his eyes and stubbornly refusing to drink even though Carlos is right—he really, really needs it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an insult.”

“Who says you do know better?”

TK splutters, momentarily left speechless in the face of Carlos’s smile and the twinkle in those goddamn eyes. He turns to Paul for help, but Paul...has disappeared. Huh. TK honestly hadn't noticed him go.

He shakes his head and looks back to Carlos, only to be stunned silent again by the way his smile has softened into something else, something more.

TK’s heart skips a beat or two and he swallows, staring down into Carlos’s coffee. “Whatever, Reyes,” he mutters.

It was too late for a witty comeback anyway.

Carlos’s laugh follows him out of the kitchen, and TK wonders when, exactly, he let himself fall this far.

*

“Earth to TK? Hello?”

TK is rudely snapped back to reality by one Nancy Gillian’s hand waving violently in his face. He scowls at her, to which she responds with an eye roll.

“Stop drooling over your man and come help me with inventory.”

“I’m not drooling,” TK argues, following her over to the rig. “And he’s not my man.”

“Right,” Nancy drawls, folding her arms over her chest as she leans against the ambulance. “So you’re just going to deny that weird energy around you two that makes the rest of us feel like we’re creeping on something?”

“Exactly.” TK nods emphatically, then frowns. “Wait, what?”

Nancy casts her eyes heavenward. “You know,” she says, “you’re a lot of things, Strand, but I hadn’t pegged you for oblivious.”

TK’s next words are reflexive, said without thought for the consequences—the story of his life, really.

“I’m not oblivious!”

The grin spreading over Nancy’s face rams home just how much he’s fucked up with those three words. TK drops his head in his hands and groans, unable and unwilling to look Nancy in the eye.

“Not a word,” he warns, which Nancy appears to respect, for now. TK is well aware that there will be words—several of them—later, whether he wants them or not.

The thing is, he really isn’t oblivious. He knows perfectly well what Nancy is talking about and he has often fantasised about all the things he’d do to Carlos given half a chance. TK likes Carlos, way more than just in the physical sense, and he’s pretty sure that Carlos likes him right back. It would be so easy to start something between them and, god, TK wants to. He just… He can’t.

One year—that’s what he promised himself back in New York. One year on his own to sort his head out and figure out how he fits back into the world after the overdose. Granted, his sobriety anniversary is only a couple of months away now, but he refuses to give up on his promise, especially when he’s so close.

Maybe in a couple months, if Carlos hasn’t gotten bored of something that’s clearly going nowhere.

But not now.

*

“He did not ask me out!”

“He totally did, dude, and you know it. You want to say yes, I can tell.”

“No, I don’t. I—”

“Children,” Tommy interrupts from the back of the ambulance. They’re heading to a callout, and Nancy has not let up the entire way about something TK is certain never actually happened. “Either of you want to enlighten me on what the argument is about this time?”

“TK’s too chicken to go out with Carlos,” Nancy jumps in, before TK can stop her.

“I am not!” he protests. “Plus, he wasn’t asking me out, he said we should go over to his place for dinner sometime, which Carlos does all the time. So there.”

“Strand, you are not this dense,” Nancy snarks, probably rolling her eyes. “His exact words were, ‘You should come over sometime’.”

“We were all there! It was obviously the plural you.”

“Oh my god—”

“Alright!” Tommy sighs wearily. “Nancy, can we keep from provoking TK until we’re back at the firehouse and he’s no longer driving?”

“Ha!” TK exclaims, but Tommy’s not done.

“TK, if I weren’t your captain, I’d be telling you that Nancy is right and you should pull your head out of your ass before it’s too late, understand?”

Now it’s Nancy’s turn to be triumphant as TK struggles to form a coherent response. Thankfully, he’s saved from further torment by them finally pulling up at the scene—a warehouse where one of the workers had become trapped after parts of the upper level walkway had broken and fallen. Apparently, the falling metal had caused some of the machinery to malfunction, turning the call from simple to beyond complicated in a matter of minutes.

“TK, grab your turnout gear and your bag; I’m sending you in with them,” Tommy informs him as soon as they’re out of the rig. “Normally, we’d just talk the firefighters through it over radio, but given your training it’ll be quicker and safer for you to deal with our patient.”

TK grins; he’s missed the adrenaline rush of running into emergencies more than he can say. “Got it, Cap.”

“Maybe try and look a little less happy about a serious injury, too.”

“Copy that.”

*

The noise when they enter the warehouse is deafening, an ugly screeching cutting right through TK’s skull.

“Shouldn’t they have shut the machines off?” he shouts, fighting to be heard.

“Apparently they can’t,” Judd calls back. “Something wrong with the control panel, I don’t know exactly what.”

TK groans—just what they need. The sound is lost in the din, but Carlos still looks over and gives him a sympathetic grin, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ motion. TK can’t help but grin back, the mere sight of Carlos easing the annoyance he feels and the headache already beginning to build behind his eyes.

Their patient, when they reach him, is pinned under a large, heavy-looking sheet of metal. He’s bleeding from a gash on his temple and his skin is worryingly pale, to the extent that TK can tell even from a distance. He jogs to the patient’s side and kneels down, pressing his fingers against his neck.

“Cap, I have a pulse,” he reports into his radio after a few seconds. “But he’s unconscious with a head wound, and I think there are probably injuries I can’t see yet. Possible spinal damage, but I can’t tell until we’ve got this metal off him.”

“Copy that,” Captain Vega says. “Get ready to run a line; he’s gonna need it as soon as he’s free.”

TK nods and moves to secure a c-collar around his neck. “We need to cut this thing off of him,” he says, addressing the team. “Quickly, but carefully.”

Judd steps forward, brandishing the saw. He hands TK a couple of spare turnouts and kneels on the patient’s other side. “Couple of you need to cover him, and yourselves.”

TK doesn’t even have to ask before Carlos appears next to him, taking one of the turnouts from him. He smiles gratefully before arranging himself to provide maximum protection to all three of them as Judd starts working on the metal. The vibrations from the saw are unpleasant, and TK dreads to think what effect it’s having on the already unstable machinery, but it’s the only option they have to get their patient free.

Fortunately, everything seems to go off without a hitch, and soon the team are able to remove the metal. TK immediately gets to work, feeling for any damage. As he suspected, there’s a pretty large gash on the man’s leg which is bleeding badly, though thankfully it seems to have missed any arteries. He also seems to have a broken wrist, but he should heal.

TK quickly wraps his leg, then gets Carlos and Judd to help move him onto the spine board. It feels like, for once, the call has gone as smoothly as possible, and TK allows himself a breath of relief as they prep to get the guy outside to the ambulance.

Naturally, that’s when everything goes to hell.

The machine closest to them lets out a threatening groan and shudders before there’s a loud roar and it explodes. On instinct, TK folds himself over the patient as shrapnel rains down on them, and he sees Carlos doing the same in his periphery.

The downpour seems to last forever, but eventually it slows and comes to a stop. TK cautiously lifts his head, his heart pounding, and sags in relief as it seems that the worst is over.

They need to get out of here, now.

He stands, a brief stab of pain running through his back—probably because of his awkward position over the patient—and turns to Carlos, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Only to see Carlos’s face tight with agony, and then the cause—a jagged piece of shrapnel running right through his hand.

“Carlos,” TK breathes, horrified. Carlos looks up at him, his breathing carefully measured and his eyes wide, and TK drops back to his knees, reaching out for him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Carlos swallows and nods, his eyes squeezing tight. TK’s heart rate skyrockets, and he’s barely able to keep his cool as he signals to the others to get their first patient out of the warehouse.

“Cap, the team are bringing him out, but we have a problem.”

“Talk to me, Strand, what’s going on?”

“It—It’s Carlos.” TK breathes out shakily and takes a moment to steady himself before continuing, “It’s not serious, but some of the machinery broke apart and some shrapnel impaled his hand. I’ve got to stabilise the shard before we come out to you.”

“Alright, but hurry. I don’t want you guys in there for longer than necessary.”

“Copy.”

Stabilising the shrapnel with rolls of gauze and wrapping Carlos’s hand should be a matter of course—it’s an easy process that TK could probably do in his sleep. But this is Carlos, so his damn hands won’t stop shaking and he almost fumbles and drops his supplies.

He manages though, and soon he’s helping Carlos up, instructing him to hold his injured hand above his heart. Carlos sends him a wobbly smile, which ends up turning out to be more of a grimace, but it’s a comfort nonetheless. Things could have gone so much worse today; TK could have even lost him, and he would have never been able to—

But that’s not important. Carlos is okay, or he will be, and they still have plenty of time to figure out whatever this is between them.

Everything will be okay.

TK’s back and side twinge again as they make their way out, but he brushes it off, too focused on getting Carlos to the hospital as fast as possible. Tommy shakes her head as they make their way over, her eyebrows raised despite the concern clearly in her expression.

“Never a peaceful moment with you, Strand, is it?” she asks dryly, hissing as she inspects Carlos’s wound.

“In my defence, Cap,” he says, more at ease now that they’re safe, “it’s not me who’s injured this time.”

Tommy hums, then directs Carlos into the back of the rig, jumping in after him. “Get back here, TK. Nancy’s driving.”

She has a teasing look in her eyes that instantly makes TK suspicious, but he moves to comply, shrugging off his turnout coat as he does. The movement hurts, which is weird, but he thinks nothing of it.

At least, until Tommy’s eyes go wide and she stands from her seat, holding her hands out towards him. “TK, do not move,” she instructs, her eyes firmly fixed on his right side.

TK frowns, then follows her gaze down, and— Oh.

His grey undershirt is stained with blood, and it’s difficult to miss the large piece of metal sticking out of his side. He has no idea how he missed it, but now that he knows, the pain slams into him full force, causing him to stagger.

“Oh,” he gasps, eloquently.

Then, his legs buckle and the world goes black.

*

TK wakes up to a steady beeping sound, which only exacerbates his pounding headache. He groans, scrunching his face up, before slowly peeling his eyes open, almost slamming them shut again after getting an eyeful of obnoxiously bright fluorescents.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, sounding surprised, then the lights suddenly dim, the room lit by the gentle glow of a lamp. TK sighs in relief and shifts to look at his saviour.

It’s Carlos.

“You… You’re here,” TK states, confused. His gaze drifts down Carlos’s body and lands on the white bandages around his hand, the memories of the warehouse suddenly hitting him all at once. “Shit, you— How are you?”

Carlos shakes his head and comes to sit in the chair by TK’s bed. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that.”

“I’m a paramedic, it’s my job.”

“Not when you’re the one in the hospital bed,” Carlos counters, sighing. “If you must know, I’m fine. They gave me some pretty good drugs, so…” He shrugs, and TK can’t help but laugh, which proves to be a very bad idea.

His side lights up, an unnecessary reminder that TK is very much not on the good drugs, and he moans softly, slowly settling back in the bed. “I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

“You love me,” Carlos says, and TK’s heart seizes in his chest.

The silence after his words is deafening, so TK forces himself to crack his eyes open enough to look at him. Carlos is frozen in his chair, biting his lip hard, and he looks like he either wants to bolt or be swallowed by the earth.

TK thinks he should probably be feeling the same. They’ve been dancing around this issue for weeks now, and he’d thought he had it under control. That he could last that little bit longer until his one year was up; that he could ignore these feelings that have been steadily growing since he first laid eyes on Carlos.

It was a hopeless endeavour; he recognises that now. TK remembers the fear he felt when Carlos was injured back at the warehouse, the desperation for him to be better, and now with his own injury…

He could have lost this chance before he ever got it, and TK isn’t about to let it slip through his fingers now. He reaches out and takes Carlos’s good hand, startling him into meeting TK’s eyes.

“Yeah,” TK whispers, just loud enough for Carlos to hear him. “I think I do.”

The smile Carlos gives him lights up the room, and he doesn’t waste any time in leaning down to kiss TK. And it’s… It’s everything TK had hoped and imagined it would be and more. It’s soft and sweet and gentle and perfect, and he never wants it to end.

But end it does, though Carlos doesn’t go far. TK smiles at him, squeezing his hand with all the strength he can muster.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” he says.

Carlos frowns. “What?”

TK’s smile widens and he flicks his eyebrows at Carlos. “To dinner. Or were you not asking me out after all?”

Carlos huffs a laugh, and the look in his eyes when they lock back onto TK’s melts his heart and makes his entire chest ache. “Does Friday work for you?”

He nods, tugging Carlos down for another kiss. “It’s a date.”

[drxwsyni]

Always, and Forever

Pairing: Yandere Koushi Sugawara x f!Reader

Synopsis: Koushi has taken care of you for so long, by now it’s something you’ve come to find solace in. And so it pains you to have to part from him on purge night, forced into the outside world in hopes of quelling your lingering embers of desired independence, however that may happen.

a/n: This is my fic for the Yandere Purge AU writing collab, hosted by the Lovesick Discord server! Here’s the link to the m.list where you can read the other fics members have written for this collab! I really didn’t mean for my part to get this long, but alas I have zero self control. 

Thanks you so so so much to @yanderart​ for beta-ing this fic, you literally always work wonders for me while also being the sweetest human being ever. Many kithes for you my dear friend.

9.7k words

Warnings: Dubcon, heavy stockholm syndrome, infantilization, attempted assault (when Daichi makes a brief appearance), injury, depictions of violence, gaslighting, manipulation.

_____

He felt like home.

Koushi’s embrace, his words, his smell―the stability he surrounded you with.

The love he surrounded you with.

You felt light around him. Mind in another place, floating off into feelings of quietude. A swell of comfort bloomed in your chest at the sight of him. His warm and familiar smile, adoration for you shining in his hazel brown eyes. The way his fingers ghosted across your skin, gentle, as if you were made of the most delicate glass, and any move too unintentionally harsh would break you.

It’s why he took such good care of you. Making sure you were safe, out of harm from the dangers of the outside world. Tucked away in his home a small ways away from the outskirts of the city. He held a certain pride to it all―the knowledge that you were protected from all that could ail you, and all because of him.

You doubted that there was anyone else on the planet who would do the same. Who would learn every single little thing about you, know you better than you knew yourself. Nobody else existed that would dedicate so much to making sure you never had to worry your pretty little head over the stresses of everyday life.

There was nobody but Koushi.

As he held you close, your back pressed into his as the two of you lay in bed, it was obvious that he was all that you needed.

His arms wrapped around you, and with the lulling sensation of sleep slowly washing over you like a rising tide, it was easy to melt into his embrace. If you relaxed enough, let your inhibitions escape you, just how he always urged you to do, you might just feel like all is right in your small world with him.

“...You know what day tomorrow is, right?”

But that was why you couldn’t relax.

Koushi keeps you on your toes, biding his time for you to step out of line. He waits patiently, observing, but not compelling you more than normal on any given day. Your lover keeps with routine, fearful that changes will be too much for you to handle. Only, you wish there was a change, anything to stave off the mental consequences that repetitive actions brought.

You couldn’t relax, because even if he felt like home, it was still not your home. You lost that a year ago tomorrow.

...Purge night.

Free reign given to those like Koushi, and for those such as yourself. To have and to hold, or to run free. Two opposing forces in a race against the clock to fulfill their desires.

But you didn’t even make it past the first five minutes.

• • •

Seated on his couch, TV mantled above the fireplace, a warm glow dancing across the room.

You were nervous―painfully so.

That dreaded letter came in the mail. You were selected to be a participant, the government mandated notice read. Unfortunately for you, it didn’t read who you were selected by. It was why you were scared out of your mind, and why you went to the only person who could calm you down.

At his side, his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, Koushi soothingly reassured you that everything would be alright. With his words, low and gentle, softly spoken in your ear. Or with his actions, a welcomingness that you could never refuse. His home being a safe haven, his touch coaxing you to let yourself accept that you had not a single thing to fret about with him.

He offered protection for the night. And you knew that you wouldn’t make it out there by yourself, so of course you obliged.

You obliged when he said to make yourself comfortable, when he offered to put on some music to ease the tension, whatever could assist your shaken soul. Your nerves were quite clearly running rampant― “Nothing a good cup of tea can’t fix.”

Koushi was right, it did wonders for your state, subdued more and more by the second.

Soon, the announcement played across the screen. Words in bold urging caution for some, and sparking adrenaline for many.

For you, things felt...strange.

The task of placing who had signed you up for this dreadful night was mind boggling. You thought to your coworkers, childhood friends, even lingering acquaintances that had entered and left your life in the span of a single day.

Still, nobody came to mind…

Not until the announcement ended.

Or the sirens outside ceased their countrywide alerts.

It wasn’t until you lost the feeling in your limbs, did you know where your mistake lay.

Taking the form of your always caring friend, never the one to leave you unguarded. Constantly checking up on you, ensuring you were looking after yourself. Doing everything he could to take responsibility for all those little things you couldn’t handle, just to lift that extra weight off you.

But really, Koushi didn’t think you could handle anything. Not like he could. Your struggles weren’t something you, a fragile and vulnerable thing, could ever possibly manage. In his eyes, you just weren’t made to take care of yourself.

That’s what he told you as he shut the television off, and as he laid you down on the couch.

He spoke so lovingly, “It’s alright, my sweet girl.”

By then it was too late. You were reduced to being completely defenceless, at risk of quite literally everything.

...That’s not how he saw it, though.

To Koushi, you’d never been safer.

That was the reality―you in his home away from modern dangers. Then, and now still.

• • •

A year had just about gone by. You no longer thought for yourself, for the most part. Koushi tried to force you into a state of complete dependence, and you couldn’t deny that he did a good job of it. You knew this because mostly, your memory was in shambles. From days upon days upon weeks where you let him do all the work, things didn’t really stick. And what significant thing was there to remember in the same laid out and unfaltering routine?

He would always dote on you, not once have you needed to ask him to do so. “It’s my responsibility,” he would repeatedly tell you. It wasn’t your place to fend for yourself―that was his job.

With how thorough he was with that agenda, not letting you slip up for a second without reprimanding you, Koushi had molded your mindset to fit his ideals. A year of reminders, of insisting submission upon you―all serving one purpose.

To make you see, make you understand that he was the only one for you.

But he knew just as much, if not more than you, that still there remained the flickering flames of autonomy. The need for it dim, but its light still a beacon of strength that fueled you to resist him.

Koushi waited for an answer, an acknowledgement to his question that no doubt stirred conflict in your mind.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, a seed of dread planted in your chest. Just slightly, you nodded your head in confirmation. Of course you knew what tomorrow was.

The day where, only because it’s illegal not to do so, those like you were given a chance at freedom. To make up for failing last year, and to obtain that independence you once held.

You didn’t even know if you completely wanted it though...

Behind you, Koushi pulled you closer into him. Carefully, he leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss against your temple. His hand intertwined with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

And nothing more was said on the matter.

_____

You woke up in his arms, a safe cocoon under the sheets with the morning daylight seeping through the cracks of the closed blinds. Of course, Koushi was already awake.

Sometime throughout the night, you shifted into your current position―head resting on his chest, arm thrown over his torso. You sighed happily as you were met in your waking state with the feeling of his hand on your waist, holding you against him as he thumbed the soft and nightgown clothed skin soothingly, a repeated back and forth.

His morning voice always made you feel different. A little raspy, but still coated in his loving tone, creating butterflies in your stomach. “Mornin’, pretty girl.”

Still wrapped in the comfort of a post sleep haze, you nuzzled your face into his chest. “Mmmn...mornin’.”

If you were looking at him, you’d be able to see his expression that was practically dripping in admiration. You might find his tiredly intimate words and motions endearing, but he found that of yours to be nearly enough to stop his heart.

Really, everything you did had that effect.

...It was a shame he’d have to go without it later tonight.

For now however, he’d let you sleep in. It was the weekend after all, and you needed your beauty rest. That, and he wasn’t about to ruin this moment by discussing the inevitable.

_____

Neither of you had yet to speak of what was soon to come, but that didn’t matter. Not when, even from the moment he got you out of bed, that reality was already having an influence on your day.

Normally, Koushi would opt to dress you in something a little more delicate. He liked the sight of you in a silken nightgown, an earthy pale pink, or pastel blues. Something to represent how fragile he thought you to be. Of course, it was never a practical outfit. But you had nowhere you needed to be, remaining inside his home your only job.

This morning's upgrade of a real dress, one with pockets, double lined and long sleeve, was the first reminder of tonight’s main event. All in all, it was pretty. You liked it, you were grateful for it.

But it only made your chest tighten, an indescribable hint of trepidation taking hold of your being.

The day goes on, you once again settling into routine. It wasn’t hard doing so, especially since now you’ve grown used to how unwavering it is. You actually find it quite nice.

If you forced yourself to step outside of your adopted headspace, it was just barely possible to pinpoint when you became this docile. When the rules Koushi had both mentally and physically beat into you became automatic actions. Or, when they didn’t seem like rules, but more so guidelines for a healthy routine that you genuinely wanted to complete.

Because you did feel healthy. You got plenty of sleep, since you always went to bed when he told you to. You had a balanced diet, because even though Koushi was busy with work, he always managed to prepare you a proper meal. You felt at peace, because you forgot why you were here in the first place.

So, separating from that compliance, and forcing yourself to remember your reality―you’d say it’s been roughly three months since you started to enjoy living with Koushi. And now that you’ve memorized the routine he’s set up for you, you know that when he sits you down on the couch, while he remains standing in front of you before speaking―these are special circumstances.

It’s just after dinner, a little past 5 o’clock. He has yet to help you switch into your evening routine, which normally consists of giving you a task such as reading or drawing to pass the time, until you have to get ready for bed.

You know that he’s looking down at you, but you can’t bring yourself to return his gaze. When you caught a glimpse of it, it only stirred anxiety inside of you. He wasn’t tense. He wasn’t upset. He seemed...casual.

Too casual for the conversation you were about to have.

“I know this is stressful for you, sweetheart. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Your hands are folded on your lap, nails digging into the skin in an attempt to distract you from the developing worry encasing you.

Much to your dismay, Koushi crouches down in front of you, a hand placed gently atop your knee. Like an adult trying to get on the level of a child, which honestly is what he makes you feel like sometimes when he speaks in such a soft tone. It forces you to look him in the eyes.

He’s right―you could always say no.

Mandatory by law, those like you who are bound to your ‘lover’ by their legal ownership over you must be given a chance to regain independence. However, you’re completely within your rights to deny the offer. Of course, this would mean that for another year you would be stuck with them.

The problem is, many of the individuals who deny the offer no longer find it as being stuck.

You don’t know what you would define it as.

What you do know is that if you go, the odds of making it out with that sense of freedom aren’t very encouraging. Your stamina is all but entirely depleted, given how the most activity you get is by walking throughout the house to either the bathroom, living room or kitchen.

On top of that, you have zero clue where you’d go. Being in the same spot for a year hasn’t exactly done anything for your sense of direction, or your understanding of the city’s layout. And the last time you went outside, the most you saw was the same view from the living room’s window.

Because you only got about ten feet from the back door before Koushi caught you.

That experience didn’t give you anything to help you in trying your hand at tonight’s offer. In fact, it only made things more difficult. The mere thought of what had ensued after he dragged you back inside his home was immobilizing.

It was likely the very reason as to why deciding if you wanted to attempt to leave Koushi was so debilitating. When even thinking of taking a single step outside struck fear into your core.

...

You should say no.

But of course, things would never be that simple. Not now at least.

Those embers of resistance still burned inside of you. Albeit dangerously fleeting, you could just barely recall the indulgences of your past life. A time where you still held that independence, when you could choose to do things for yourself. Small things you took for granted, like fast food or staying up late and binging shows―while the memories were clouded, you could still recognize the feeling they gave you.

Of warmth, or of the mindless pleasure that you used to never think twice about seeking.

A pang of guilt shot through you, realizing how selfish you were for wanting to leave Koushi over that. He’d been so good to you, making sure you barely had to lift a finger. Yet here you were, yearning for things that would only do you harm, a fact he’d repeated countless times in the early days of living with you.

But, tonight was the only night of the year when you got to be a little selfish. The prospect of earning those little independent privileges was strangely like fuel to the nearly burnt out fire of your lingering resistance.

You looked back at the grey haired man, still calmly awaiting an answer.

“N-no, no...I want to do this, I think…”

And there was that smile again, all too soft and gentle for what you could only guess was some well contained detestment for your words. He looked understanding, and to anyone else the way he regarded you would be endearing.

What a loving boyfriend….

If only they knew.

With that, he let you remain on the couch, waiting patiently for his return while he moved momentarily into another room. Soon he returned, and for the first time in a whole year, he let you watch television that wasn’t dumbed down animated shows, or wholesome animal documentaries.

Koushi put on the news, or more specifically, the countdown broadcast to the purge.

_____

You could almost laugh at how rattled simply watching the news made you. It would be amusing, accept your heart was beating too fast, mind racing with worrying thoughts to realize the irony of the situation.

This night was supposed to be your only chance of gaining legal custody of your own independence. You should be beaming. Yet here you were, anxiously bouncing your leg, bottom lip between your teeth as the announcer went on with scripts of how people across the country were preparing for when 6 pm hit.

And Koushi, the one who should be stressed with the possibility of you slipping out of his grasp―he was doing fine.

For the most part, at least.

Sure, a small hint of dread for the highly, and he means highly, unlikely was present in the back of his mind. But Koushi knew you. He knew every single little thing that made you who you were.

Of course he did, he loved you after all.

So that flicker of dread remained almost nonexistent. Because he also knew how this night would end, and that was more than enough to calm his nerves.

Unconsciously, you leaned into Koushi’s side. He was seated right next to you on the middle of the couch. An arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your left hand in his and placed on his lap, his fingers not so absentmindedly drawing soothing circles into your skin.

You didn’t see, but his eyes never left your troubled and practically shaking form.

He felt bad for taking pride in the sight.

It meant that you were terrified of leaving him. And you should be, it was so dangerous out there. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself, it’s why he did it for you. So, seeing this proof that in less than ten minutes, you’d be going out into the night alone, had you shivering in fear―it only told him that what he was doing was right.

Yes, it did hurt him to see you so distressed, but you needed to learn your place.

Which was next to him, always.

And when he thought about it, this is how his lessons always went. Koushi would never hurt you unless you deserved it. Unfortunately for you, you tended to do a lot of things that warranted punishment. And he was eager to help you see things his way. Tonight was no different.

You’d never be in any real danger.

He’d never go as far as to permanently damage you in any way.

If you deserved the punishment, then he should be allowed to have a little fun with it.

Both of you were brought out of your respective intense thoughts as the room was bathed in red. The television screen, now vibrantly pigmented in the colour, began playing the annual emergency broadcast, alarms blaring from the speakers.

Koushi saw how you flinched, and like the loving person he was, he reached for the remote to turn down the volume. You were still shaking like a leaf, stare fixated on the bolded words rolling across the screen.

In an attempt to console you, Koushi gently moved a hand onto your shoulder, urging you to lean back into him. Your heart skipped a beat as he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, lingering there for a moment.

He spoke in a delicate whisper, just loud enough that it would drown out the automated announcer from the last broadcast to be had tonight. “...Shhh, you’re alright sweetheart.”

Unconsciously, you nodded with his affirmation, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

Information continued to dance across the screen. You would have twelve hours, starting at 6 pm, which was in two minutes, to do whatever you needed to obtain your ideal outcome. So would those opposite of you in nature, which didn’t exactly help your chances of fighting for your freedom.

A myriad of other rules and such were listed, most of them being useless to you. It was more so meant for those of the bolder type. What weapons you could use, who you could injure, and how far you could take things.

You didn’t want to hurt anybody. You just wanted to go back to how things were before naively falling for Koushi’s trap―or at least that’s what you thought. The whole decision still felt a little cloudy in your mind, even now.

Abruptly, the television stopped it’s recount of the mandatory notice. The red returned to black, because for one, there was nothing more to and. And, because Koushi had turned off the TV, the resounding click bringing you back to reality.

Neither of you moved as the countrywide sirens rang out. The fixed speakers outside sounded off, letting everyone who wasn’t tuning into the news segment that finally, the purge had begun.

Your gaze remained fixed on the floor, feeling like it was taking an eternity for the roaring noises to cease. Eventually they did, leaving you and Koushi with the silence of the living room, the hushed sounds of a crackling fireplace being the only thing to meet your ears.

Naturally, he has to do everything for you. And, naturally, he doesn’t mind.

“C’mon, sweet girl.”

Carefully, so as not to scare you more than you already clearly were, Koushi pulled you off the couch. Not moving too quickly, he kept your hand held firmly in his as he led you to the front door.

You couldn’t remember the last time you got this close to the entrance. His various methods of reprimand doing wonders to keep you from drawing near it. Sometimes, even looking at the door was something you feared.

But now, here you were, standing right in front of it.

You followed Koushi’s movements, your hand falling at your side as he released it to begin undoing the excessive amount of locks.

Not excessive to him of course, anything to keep his perfect little girl safe.

The quiet beeping of the door’s alarm was the only thing to be heard aside from the noise of your heart beating in your chest, the sound reverberating in your skull. Then came the manual locks, Koushi’s hand reaching into his pocket to grab the keyring.

With each lock coming undone, your mindset continued to spiral.

You can’t do this. It’s too much to handle. You have no clue where to go, or where to hide.

And the comfort that he provides―you really do like it.

How he touches you, tender and lovingly, able to feel with every movement how much he cares for you. When he wraps you in his arms, that familiar and comforting smell that’s so undeniably Koushi sedating those thoughts at unease. He speaks to you, always saying the right things, so softly.

You realized that lately, there was nothing to worry about with him.

But you would lose all you earned the second you stepped out of his home.

Yet, as he finishes with the locks and turns back to you, it doesn’t feel like you’ll lose anything.

Not as in, once you leave, his presence will be gone, and that you’ll never have to experience it after you make it out of this night with your freedom.

Rather, once you fail, he’ll be waiting, ready to snuff out those pangs of anguish you’re feeling right now, just like he always does. That kind of comfort didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

The thought alone was enough to quell many of your concerns.

Koushi stepped towards you, his hands reaching for you, finding their destination in gingerly cupping your face. Nervously, your eyes flitted from his frame to the door’s handle.

The man in front of you sighed slightly, taking in the details of your expression. The furrow of your brows, how you had trouble focusing on any one thing while a plethora of thoughts raced through your mind.

He liked knowing how much this was bothering you. Showing that at the end of the day, you were more dependent on him than you realized.

Koushi was the first to speak, you tensing at the startling noise.

“I’m not forcing you to do this, sweetheart. You know you don’t have to go out there.”

He studied you intently, and you felt the urge to shrink from his focused gaze. It would be so easy to just stay home. To curl up with Koushi in front of the fireplace, relax into his arms as the night went by.

But as you looked back to the unlocked door once more, you knew that wasn’t an option.

“I do have to, I’m sorry…”

You didn’t know if you were apologizing to him, or to yourself.

Koushi smiled, a thumb momentarily caressing your cheekbone before pulling away.

“Well, then―I’ve got something for you.” His hand once again fished around in his pocket before pulling out the object in question.

Your eyes landed on it immediately―a burner phone.

It was simple, a black flip phone, old model and with little use aside from calls and texts that took far too long to type out on its inconvenient keyboard.

Koushi stood next to you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he flipped the device open. The artificial glow of the screen illuminated your face while he held it open for you to observe.

“My number is on speed dial, just press here―” he went through the motions slowly, letting you follow the steps he was taking, “―and you’ll be able to call whenever you need me.”

Slowly you nodded, amazed at the prospect of using an electronic, even an ancient one. You hadn’t touched a phone in so long.

Koushi slipped the device into the pocket of your dress, choosing to face you once again. This time he gripped your shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze to grab your attention. “If you can’t handle being out there, promise that you’ll call me.”

For the first time this night, you looked him in the eyes. Those full of compassion and care, you not knowing the feelings they hid from you.

“...I will, Koushi.”

A moment of silence lingered in between the two of you, and before you could make any first move, his lips were softly connecting with yours.

An action full of devotion, you had no choice but to melt into it. Because now, it no longer caused discomfort to eat away at your system, but the exact opposite.

When his lips parted from yours, instead of immediately letting go, Koushi pulled you into his embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist, your head settling into the crook of his neck.

You finally realized that there had been tears slipping down your cheeks this whole time.

His voice sent shivers down your spine, spoken against the shell of your ear. “I love you, so much…”

Your hands gripped his shirt tightly in response.

“...But, you won’t stand a chance out there.”

An odd choice of words, while although it did send an icy fear throughout your body, it still made you want to go out there and prove him wrong.

Whether or not he realized that fact was beyond you.

Koushi pulled away, not before pressing a final kiss on your cheek. His hand reached for the doorknob, turning, and swinging it open.

The cold air of the evening hit your body, the sun rapidly setting on the horizon. It brought about a new sense of coldness to go along with that which was stirred by your anxieties. Breaking your attention away from the outdoors that lay just a few feet away, Koushi voiced his plans.

“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll give you an hour as a head start, sound good?”

Silently, because you couldn’t form the words to make a response with an impossible lump in your throat, you nodded. But you still remained in place.

Waiting for his permission.

He smiled at your expectant behaviour.

Koushi waved a hand, gesturing to the outdoors. “...Go on, now.”

Hesitantly, still greatly unsure of your own decision, you did as he said. Feeling almost light, with your body seemingly moving on its own, you stepped through what, up until now, was a forbidden threshold.

The breeze in the air made your dress flow, the feeling of the forceful chill against the bare skin of your legs a foreign sensation after all this time. You could hear the sounds of crickets chirping in the grass, many living past the tree-line of the forest surrounding his home.

The sun was what you were least expecting.

Just barely managing to peek through the mostly overcast sky, its intense rays landed upon your skin. You could feel its heat, a warmth contrasting the fall temperatures. Tilting your head up slightly, you closed your eyes to bask in its natural gift.

But as soon as it came, the sensation was gone.

The sky fully clouded over, leaving you in the cold, and in a darkness threatening to grow worse as each second ticked by. Still battling an inner turmoil to go through with your wants, you turned around to face Koushi one last time.

Still at the front entrance, he was bathed in the inviting warm light coming from inside the house. He made no more moves to sway you in any which direction. Instead, he simply stood in the doorway, casually leaning against it with his hands in his pockets.

That’s when it dawned on you.

You were wasting time.

No wonder he was so calm. Letting you spend precious seconds getting nowhere.

Your eyes met his. Koushi gave you that signature smile that suddenly wasn’t so comforting.

And then, you were gone.

_____

Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest, desperate gulps of air entering and exiting your already exhausted system. Previous calculations on the few strengths you’d have going for you, and the many weaknesses holding you back were correct.

After less than two minutes of running, you already had to reduce yourself to a walking pace.

Your limbs felt increasingly strained at the sudden exertion, calves aching and lungs burning. Once you slowed down and your wits returned, you noticed the particularly painful sensation in your feet.

Koushi failed to give you proper shoes for the night's events, instead leaving you in your fairly thin lined slippers that now weren’t even good enough to keep out the chill.

Or perhaps, he did that on purpose?

Those facts didn’t quite matter at the moment. You had finally reached the edge of the city, making good time as you didn’t have the need to make it there under the cover of the forest. A quick glance at your burner phone would tell you that you still had fifteen minutes of free time, so there was no problem being out in the open as you took to the road to reach your destination.

The stretches of trees were replaced with encroaching buildings, starting out small and changing into impressive structures as you ventured further into the city.

Overall, it was quiet. Aside from a few stray pieces of litter blowing in the wind, there was nobody out on the streets aside from yourself. Really, many people didn’t have a reason to be out. Not everyone had someone to be running from, or oppositely, had someone to be running after. If you didn’t fall into either of those two categories, then you had no reason not to stay inside.

After all, getting in someone’s way could mean risking your life.

This constant and looming reality, that the only reason why you were out was because of these special circumstances―it didn’t exactly make you feel any better.

Even as you caught your breath, your heart remained beating rapidly inside your chest. Your feet stumbled awkwardly along the sidewalk, wincing with each shot of pain that ran up your legs.

You only paused when your eyes landed on red and bolded graffiti on the side of a boarded up shop.

“KNOW YOUR PLACE.”

However, you failed to understand what that was anymore.

The sudden noise of a shrill scream sounding from some indiscernible place brought you startlingly out of your focus on the graffiti. The noise bounced off of the brick walls of buildings around you. Your head whipped from side to side, trying to understand where it was coming from.

Only, it felt like the screams were all around you.

Your hands were clenched into tight fists, nails indenting crescent moons into the skin of your palms. The wails lasted for a mere five or so seconds, but it felt like minutes with how your distress was only amplifying your panicked reaction.

In that state of immense internal torment, you unable to think of any one decision for yourself, your body once again acted on it’s own. Fight or flight senses kicking in, favouring the latter, you bolted away from what you were most sure was the best direction away from the screaming.

Really it was all you could do. Staying in one spot, frozen with fear that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, wouldn’t do a single thing for you. Even if you didn’t know the exact destination of your travels, all you knew was that you had to put as much distance as possible between you and Koushi’s home.

So you ran, only to once again forget just how ill equipped you were.

The street lights went by in a blur, wind whipping past you. The first bead of sweat trickled down your face as you willed yourself to keep moving. Not even a minute in and you were slowing to a stop, leaning against the side of a building.

You could’ve passed out right then and there, with the weight of your exhaustion, and your weakening mindset crashing down on you. But if you stopped, you knew that you’d likely never be on the winning side of this night.

Still trying to catch your breath, you used this time to pull out your burner phone. Flipping the small device open, you winced at the bright and artificial glow that you were so unaccustomed to, especially in the darkening light of the evening.

Your eyes landed on the clock, front and center of the compact screen.

7:00 pm.

The head start was up.

_____

A quiet playing of jazz music lingered in the background of the kitchen, the pinks and oranges of a setting sun behind the clouds casting part of the room in a warm hue. Methodically, and humming to himself, Koushi was drying the dishes from the dinner he had with you, fondly recalling how breathtaking you looked in your new dress.

He took a quick glance at the clock after putting the last cleaned dish in the cupboard, making sure to lock the small door shut. The device mounted on the wall told him it was nearing quarter to eight.

Expectantly, his phone rang in his pocket, him not even needing to look at the caller ID before answering. Especially not when the voice on the other line spoke before he could even get a word out.

“You still need me for tonight?”

Koushi slung the cup towel over his shoulder, leaning against the granite countertop. “Daichi, I’d really appreciate the help if you’re still up for it. I understand if you can’t though―”

“You had my back last year, the least I can do is return the favour.”

Softly, Koushi laughed a little to himself, remembering how frustrated his friend was, unable to control his other half.

He nodded, gazing out the window as he spoke. “Well then, do you remember what I said or should we go through it again?”

On the other line, he heard some indistinct rustling, paying to mind to it. “That’s alright, I know how important this is to you. Couldn’t forget it even if I tried.”

That brought a chuckle out of both of them, Daichi continuing soon after.

“I’ll get going then, gotta handle a few things first.”

This time, Koushi could make out the distinct noise of a car trunk slamming shut. Meaning his friend was already on his way to set up.

“...Of course. Thanks again, by the way.”

He heard what sounded like keys jingling, “No problem, talk to you later.”

With that, Koushi ended the call. Phone still on, he was left to look at the last app he had open, the screen still giving him live information by the second. Satisfied with what he saw, he excited the tracking software, swiftly pocketing the phone.          

Grabbing the still somewhat full wine glass on the countertop, Koushi made his way to the living room. Relaxing into the couch with a relieved sigh, he resigned himself to a waiting game, knowing it’d only be so long until he had you back, safe and wrapped in his arms.

Just where you should be.

_____

There weren’t many options: either hide in the shadows, and be at risk for unsuspected attacks, or remain in the safety of the street lights, exposed to any and all onlookers. Looking over your shoulder, not quite eyeing any one thing that meant certain danger, you chose the latter.

When the screams around you finally died down, fading into the background as you left it in the dust behind you, the sound of a distant rumbling came to the forefront. With a quick glance up, you could see that, even in the dimming light of the evening, the clouds above were growing thicker. Darkening and swirling in the sky, you knew that soon a storm would be upon you.

As the earthy aroma of approaching rain permeated your senses, your heart longed for the comfort back home. If it weren’t for that nearly indescribable need to keep moving away from Koushi, you’d be back there. Probably relaxing on the couch, a sedating melody coming from the record player. Another perfect Saturday night spent in your lovers presence.

You could practically feel the heat of the fireplace on your face if you focused hard enough.

However, that heat wasn’t coming from such a sanctuary, one who knows how many kilometers away by now. Rather, from the burning building in front of you.

Snapping out of that reminiscent trance, you came to an abrupt stop. Squinting a bit at the bright and flaming scene, you could just barely discern that the building was a police station.

The sight only brought a small quirk to your lips, knowing how useless they were to those like you.

Turning away from the building, you trained your goals on moving in the same direction, fearful of getting turned around and accidentally heading back towards home. Things once again fell into silence, only the sound of a looming and encroaching storm meeting your ears every ten minutes or so. Fatigue had set in long ago, leaving your steps sluggish, fighting every muscle in your body to keep up a consistent pace. Even if you weren’t moving fast, you were still moving.

Except, that too grew nearly impossible to reasonably manage.

The further you walked, the more disturbing sights you came upon. It seemed like all at once, things were hitting the fan. Corrupt scenes unfolding around you being horrifying to no ends.

Exiting an alleyway, the first thing you saw was a man stuffing a body into the trunk of a car. You couldn’t tell who the person was, or whether they were even alive. But those details weren’t remotely feasible, as the perpetrator caught you in his gaze.

Seeing your frozen stature, face riddled with fear, he only laughed to himself.

You were no threat to the claims of the night, so he dismissed you with ease. Leaving you in his wake as he drove off, you stayed put for an unknown amount of minutes.

The terrifying truth of what you were was unavoidable, and damn near immobilizing. Weak in everyone’s eyes, often your own included.

At some point you found the will to start moving again, only to soon pause for a breather. Mostly to ground yourself, you checked the time on your temporary phone.

It read just half past nine. In normal circumstances, you’d be in bed; or getting ready for bed, at the least. As a few droplets began falling from the now pitch black sky, you longed for safety under the covers of your bed. Bundled in soft blankets, a dry nightgown, and the soothingly mellow voice of Koushi next to you. Every night, without fail, he’d always remind you of how much he loved you, helping you fall fast asleep under the calmness he provided.

A shiver wracked your body, heart aching for his safety. Your finger hovered over the call button, one movement away from being scooped up by your saviour.

Your body was jolted out of the thought before you could bother with such a surrender.

Someone―a young girl, maybe in her early twenties, desperately clutched the sleeves of your dress. She looked up at you, expression riddled with a bone chilling dread. “Please help me! He’s...he’s trying to―”

Yet, just as she was about to finish, another set of hands painfully grasped your shoulders. A split second later and you were being thrown into the side of a building.

A man was yelling at you, quite loudly at that. Or maybe he was yelling at the girl―with the way you were sobbing, panic shutting down your better senses, it was too hard to tell. You couldn’t quite hear any one thing, the world falling into silence as the anxieties resting in your system spiked violently.

Your brain didn’t even register that you had bolted into a sprint. Not until, sheerly because your body couldn’t handle taking another step until you gave it at least a little break, you stopped, almost falling to your knees with how drained you were. Barely, you managed to keep yourself upright by leaning against a lamp post.

In that moment, there was only one thing going through your mind.

You wanted to go home.

Koushi’s home, which just as much belonged to you as it did him. That’s where you were meant to be. Not out here, by yourself in the middle of the night, rain coming down around you. Even if it was light, the slight dampness in your clothing had you convulsing in cold bodied trembles.

The phone was still clutched tightly in your hand. You knew what you needed to do.

And as the noise of gunshots rang out in the direction you came from, your plans shifted to do just that.

Shaken to your core, you shuffled into an alleyway. Seeking the refuge of a shelter to make that fated call, you blindly ventured deeper into the narrow passage. The saving grace that were streetlamp lights disappeared behind you, remnants of its glow doing little to help you see where you were going.

Doing nothing to help you see the trap you were walking directly into.

All at once, your knees buckled under you, a net you had stepped into lurching upwards. A shriek escaped your being as the intertwined rope cased around you, hoisting you into the air. Suspended only five five or so feet off the ground, the height wasn’t what sent terror coursing through your veins.

It was the fact that you were trapped, no amount of struggling enough to free you. And, because your phone had slipped out of your hand, through the holes of the net, and onto the pavement beneath you.

Out of reach, leaving you helpless to the whims of your sudden captor.

Just like that, the repeated calling for your lover spilled from your lips. Petrified in every sense, you wailed for Koushi to come and save you. Pleading cries for help were repeated until your throat grew hoarse. You only stopped when you physically couldn’t catch your breath.

But even that ceased as well, when a tall figure came into view.

You blearily wiped away the wetness pooling in your eyes, body uncomfortably folded by the sinch of the net as what looked to be a man stalked towards you.

“...Little things like you really shouldn’t be out on a night like this.”

As he drew closer, you could make out the short cut of his hazelnut hair, chiseled features, a broad frame shielded from the downpour by a waterproof jacket. Slowly, the stranger leaned down, picking up your fallen burner phone.

A small whimper escaped you, “Please…”

The deep baritone of his voice shook you as he spoke, “What, looking for this?” Mockingly, he waved the flimsy device back and forth, just out of arm's reach from you. He lowly chuckled to himself at the severely distraught look you gave him, and at the lifeline that was your phone.

The phone that, taking it in both hands, he snapped in half with ease.

Eyes blown wide, you watched in silent horror as the man tossed the unusable device aside, the noise of it clattering to the ground bouncing off the walls of the alleyway. Before you could even register what had happened, what was going to happen, the man was right in front of you.

You couldn’t even think of what to do or say as his hand reached through an opening in the net, harshly gripping your jaw and forcing you to face him.

His lips were pulled into a small and menacing grin, unspoken notions of his intentions laced into the way he regarded you as prey. A quiet hum resonated from him, scanning your features intently. Not before turning your head to the side ever so slightly, seemingly confirming what he already knew, he spoke up once again.

“...No wonder he loves you.”

The glint of a pocket knife flashed before your eyes, and a second later you were crashing to the ground. With the ropes holding you up now severed, the net fell down around you. As soon as you could stretch out your limbs, you were mindlessly scrambling away.

Your better intuitions were completely clouded over, escape once again being the only thing your body could try to achieve.

“Stop fucking struggling.” The words met your ears as an iron grasp wrapped around your ankle, roughly dragging you back to that spot a few feet away from your position, where you’d only just crawled from.

The assailant flipped you onto your back, “What the hell are you gonna do anyways? You’re not made to fight people like me off.” Strangled sobs left your system as he settled in between your legs, his hand gripping your throat. “I could snap your bones like a fucking twig, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.”

You attempted to sputter out a response, anything to deter the man who was unashamedly handling your much weaker body. Yet, the second your lips parted, a sharp sting bled across your cheek.

“What a dumb little girl you are―dumb enough to walk right into an obvious trap.”

As the glint of a blade returned, you could do nothing but lay there as the sharp edge ripped through the fabric of your dress. The front of it fell open, leaving your bare chest exposed to his eyes, save for the bra being the only thing to defend you.

You didn’t see the knife disappear, only knowing it had gone somewhere when his now free hand groped your breast.

“I mean, what the fuck did you think was going to happen coming out tonight?” The man above you laughed to himself, knowing you were too scared out of your mind to respond.

Meaning his orders were playing out as expected.

The grip on your throat tightened, leading you to space out as he continued the one sided and condescending conversation. “I bet you could’ve avoided this too. Poor thing―too stupid to get out of her own way.”

The pleading request repeated over and over in your mind, but you couldn’t force yourself to speak it. As another smack collided with your cheek, hearing going out in the ear that was affected by the force, those spiralling thoughts got worse, a nauseating feeling rolling in your stomach.

Pleasepleaseplease just stop.

All you wanted was to go home. You should’ve never left. You should’ve never tried to leave Koushi.

Why would you ever want to do that?

Finding yourself growing lightheaded, unable to take in enough oxygen to keep yourself conscious, you felt something inside of you disappear.

If you could describe it, the sensation would be like a sudden dislodge. Relieving, a weight on your body, one that wasn’t caused by a man pressing into you, vanishing entirely.

You still didn’t feel calm, system remaining corrupted with a near crushing fright in your drifting state. But whatever familiar sense of trepidation you once suffered from was now gone.

Hands falling limp at your sides, exhaustion finally getting the better of you as you no longer had it in you to fight off the stranger choking you out, your eyelids fluttered shut. You didn’t want to stop struggling, to give up against this seemingly unstoppable force, but you didn’t have much choice, did you?

Only, a violent and haggard fit of coughs spewed from you as the suffocating force pinning you down disappeared.

Breath quick, your intake and outtake of much needed air stuttering, you heaved weakly against the wet pavement. The first thing that flooded your senses was the patter of the rain hitting the ground around you. Then, it was the feeling of that rain landing on the skin of your face. Cold and cooling, easing the burning ache of your cheeks that had been repeatedly battered just moments ago.

As your eyes closed to bask in the relieving sensation, the droplets against you left, yet still the sound of rain falling down around you remained.

Upon opening your eyes, a swell of emotions ran over you. Tufts of grey hair hung above you, a deeply worried expression of the man you loved regarding your worn out and still shaking form.

“...K-Koushi?”

If it weren’t for the rain, both of you would know full well that the water streaming down your face wasn’t from the night’s downpour. But the hitch in your voice, the tremble in your lower lip―both served as clear displays of the anguish you experienced.

His hands cupped your face, gentle as always, especially now so as not to put pressure on the tender skin. Even with the commotion of the storm beating down around the two of you, his voice was as clear as day.

“I’m right here, pretty girl.”

_____

The silence that the sanctuary of Koushi’s home, your home, brought about was like balm to your oversensitive state. It wasn’t a deafening silence, per se. Because here and there, it still carried symphonies of the outside world, while the world right at your fingertips brought ones of safety inside such sturdy walls. Whether it be the muffled noises of overhead thunder, or the soothing sounds of rippling water as your fingers danced mindlessly underneath its surface.

The heat of the freshly drawn bath was doing wonders for your strained muscles, now feeling limp in Koushi’s arms as he held you from behind. With a deep sigh, lungs still burning from previous exertion, you leaned into him. It was easy to melt into the secondary warmth he provided, your partially bruised back pressing into his chest.

With the night’s activities washed from your bodies, you needed only to bask in the presence of the man you once feared you lost. The shift from one extreme to another, immobilizing terror to heart wrenching relief―nothing had ever made your head spin faster.

Now, while you let the humidity of the bathroom seep into your skin, the sweet scent of body wash meeting your senses, the invisible weight of guilt remained burning. Your eyebrows stayed knitted, a look of worry that Koushi couldn’t see.

But little did you know, he knew it’s what you felt. He knew everything about you, right down to the last little detail. So he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when your meek voice broke through the silence, spoken in a volume just barely above a whisper, purely because your vocal cords were shot from when he heard you calling for him only an hour ago.

“...I really am sorry, Koushi.”

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, thumb running back and forth against the bare skin of your arm. “If you’re sorry, then you’ll let me take care of you. No more messing around.”

...

It’s not that you didn’t want to let Koushi do as he pleased, it was that you didn’t know why he wished to do it in the first place. Even after all the time he’d spent devoted to tending to your every last need, the reasons as to why he did so could never quite stick.

You never asked him for any of this. He just assumed the role of your caretaker without batting an eye. It was obvious he cared about you, but still you had issues accepting his motivation for it.

Letting out a shaky breath, you spoke once again. “I just...I don’t understand why you want to so badly. It doesn’t make any sense, and―”

“I do it because I’m in love with you, isn’t it obvious?”

The playfulness in his questioning tone didn’t go unnoticed, but it still didn’t exactly calm all of your anxieties. At least, not until he continued with his speech, his actions following up with affirmations.

Your head rested against his shoulder as his hands wandered, mapping out the sensitivities of your body, starting where they rested near your chest.

“I have been since the moment I laid eyes on you, sweetheart…”

When his hands found purchase on your waist, tenderly squeezing the plush skin, you harshly sucked in a breath of air. He kneaded the tense muscles of your body, speaking low, but still sending shivers down your spine at it’s proximity.

“All of your little quirks, your gentleness, how delicate you are...You’re so impossibly perfect.”

Pausing, Koushi pressed a light kiss against your temple, “...Of course I want to take care of you.”

With each word spoken, every syllable filled with innate devotion, your mind of worrying thoughts surrendered to him. Not given much choice in the matter, and not wanting to choose any alternative if there was one, you let his admiration slowly consume you whole.

“I wanna make sure nobody can hurt you, make sure you get what you deserve…”

Koushi’s hands drifted lower, deft fingers lightly trailing your body, teasing touches only serving to stir another type of heat inside you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him cup your heat, middle finger gently pressing in between your folds.

“...And, that you get what you need.”

You softly whimpered as the pads of his fingers came into contact with your clit, the exhaustion you felt amplifying your sensitive nerves. Applying just the right amount of pressure, and in the perfect spot that had you yearning for more, Koushi skilfully circled the puffy nub.

He smiled to himself as you weakly squirmed in his hold, knowing that in your state, this was the finishing touch to his game. One that he’d been playing since the day he met you, and that now was about to reach its end. Where he’d finally have you right where he wanted you, and you’d both be happy for a long time to come.

Removing the pressure from his ministrations, he bowed his head so that his lips were just ghosting the shell of your ear.

“Tell me what you need, pretty girl.”

Tears pricking in your eyes at the carnal desire you felt from even the slightest of touches, you found yourself near immediately calling for him, begging for his help without a hint of recollection from the memory that held resemblance.

“Please Koushi...I need you.”

With those small and desperate pleas, Koushi found that there was nothing he wanted to hear more in that moment. The desperation laced in your tone was the sweetest thing he’d ever listened to, and so he vowed to himself that he’d make you repeat those wanton admissions time and time again. As often as he needed them, and as often as you needed him. Which would be in your every waking second from now on, finally.

He couldn’t help but encourage you even more, the sound of your whimpers as his fingers worked you over being the most addictive drug.

“That’s it...I’ll give you everything you need. All you have to do is let me―you can do that, right?”

Only wanting to please him more, full body acceptance gripping your being, you responded by quickly nodding, incoherent words escaping you without thought.

Koushi could only laugh at your reaction, adorable in every sense. But, he wanted to hear you say it, ever the demanding one, and always wanting you to play by his rules.

Knowing you were teetering on the edge of release, his fingers slowed their pace, relenting to an achingly teasing method of feathered touches. He spoke one last question, something to finalize his long maintained agenda, goals set on crystallizing your reality for the both of you.

“Promise that you’ll let me care for you, no matter what.”

At his question, the only thing more powerful than the feelings burning inside of you from his sinfully skilled movements was how you felt about him.

The way he made you feel safe, even on the darkest of nights. How he wrapped you in an embrace that would snuff out the flames of self-doubt without fail, each and every time. He never missed a single thing about you, from the obvious outward traits, to the hidden emotions that suddenly didn’t seem like things you needed to conceal―not with him.

There wasn’t a single think about Koushi that you could bring yourself to hate.

Because right then, you loved him, just as much as he loved you.

Koushi felt like home. He was your home.

A home you never had until now. And one you never wanted to leave.

Resigning yourself to him completely, leaving not a single thing that would keep you from submitting to his passion, you held nothing back. Forever and always, you would give yourself up to him, content at the knowledge that you hadn’t a thing to fret over so as long as you were with him

“...I promise.”

[personasintro]

before you go | myg drabble

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; taking a step forward, you decide it's time to act after realization that you're worth much more than your boyfriend thinks, and you deserve even more

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: cheating au, mentions of sex, strong language, yoongi cries 

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2k

a/n: commissioned by the lovely @minyoongail​, who's been extremely patient with me! thank you again and I hope you enjoy this drabble!

𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | ☕️

It happened gradually, smoothly even.

Although, you’re not sure if the word ‘smooth’ is the right one to describe it. It happened slowly and gradually, that you barely noticed it but now that you look at all the clues and details, it makes a perfect sense and you come to think; how stupid were you? You should’ve seen it sooner. You should’ve focus on those details more. And most importantly, you should’ve never trust him the way you did.

Cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. But there was still a time when you ignored it, purposely tried to be blind about it and pretended that it never happened. But it broke you even more. How can it not?

It started with the lack of his presence. The usual excuse; the work got busy and they needed me. Funny how the word ‘they’ should’ve been in a singular form rather than plural. And at first, you believed that. Why couldn’t he be busy? Being an idol practically screams busy and unavailable but even then, you as a couple managed to get through that. You respected his profession just like he did yours, there was no reason to compare your two different professions. You were proud of him, fuck, you still are. Despite of what happened, you’re still proud of him for working so hard to the point the whole word knows who he is and they praise him for his incredible ability to comfort people with his music and lyrics.

It didn’t come weird to you when he started to stay nights somewhere else, rather than by your side and in his luxurious apartment placed in one of the newest buildings in Seoul, with a perfect view of Han River and center of Seoul. When he asked you to move in, you knew there’d be times when he would be just too busy but you also knew, it’d be a great opportunity to be closer to him. And a next step in your two year relationship. So naturally, you thought he’s just spending the nights in his studio and in the company. Oh, how wrong you were.

Then secret calls and messages happened.

Yoongi has always been a quiet man who liked his privacy, but not to the extent of changing his password and holding his phone for a dear life. It’s not like you went and snooped around in his phone, trying to find something suspicious or something like that. It happened randomly when you saw him unlocking it with a different password, when he laid on the sofa next to you. His Touch ID was broken and it was dark for his Face ID to work. If those two things didn’t happen, you’d never know or maybe you’d find out eventually. Regardless of that, maybe it was the universe giving you a first sign.

Yoongi always used to go to another room whenever someone called him, it was just his pet peeve. He wanted to go somewhere quiet where he could discuss an important business. But after he started to close a door and you couldn’t hear his muffled voice, so all you heard was a complete silence or whispered words, it started to become weird.

Third thing that caught your attention was the lack of intimacy in your relationship. Sure, Yoongi’s a busy man with a hectic schedule and life, but he used to find the time to appreciate you in more ways than possible. Even if it was just a quick sex to get a relief, and he drifted to sleep right away, he still whispered soft I love you’s into your ear. When days became weeks and weeks became months without him even touching you, you knew something’s wrong. He can be busy, but he’s still a man with needs like you’re woman with the same ones. You don’t have to mention dates, because those didn’t happen as well. And when Yoongi came home with a weird purplish mark on his chest, which you randomly saw because he started to shower alone and wouldn’t ask you to join him like he used to, you knew he’s getting his relief somewhere else.

It hurt. Maybe you have it all wrong, maybe it’s not how it seems. You desperately tried to persuade yourself, but things never got better and they just got even worse. So, you buried yourself into the work and distanced yourself just like he did but still, none of you voiced out the problem even though you both knew something’s wrong. Your relationship stopped having a future. But why can’t he just end it?

Why does he keep sneaking behind your back? He even started to be lazy with precautions, and left his phone on his nightstand one evening.

‘see you tomorrow, can’t wait x’, said the text.

The woman’s name almost burned your eyes but no, it was your tears that did.

And that’s how you’ve spent your nights, crying into your pillow and the person who was behind your crying was nowhere to be seen, and all you’ve had left was his empty side of bed. Where there were no tears left to cry, anger replaced the sadness and hurt. You were angry, but still holding yourself in your boyfriend’s presence. It wasn’t hard, he was barely present in your own presence. He made it easy.

But even anger didn’t last that long and you slowly became numb. Numb to the pain, to the anger and any other emotion. That’s what he’s done to you and he should’ve seen it coming.

Just like when he opens the front door, completely tired and worn out, met with the sight of two big suitcases. He knows they belong to you, his own are plain black but that’s not why he recognizes it at first. It’s because those are the same ones he helped you with when you moved in. Dropping his keys onto the small cupboard, he walks deeper into the huge apartment to find it just in the exact state. However, what’s different is you walking out of the bedroom with a bag in your arms, along with your phone. You don’t notice him, you’re too busy trying to check if you’ve packed everything and there’s nothing left of you. You don’t plan on coming back and if there’s something you accidentally forgot, you don’t want it. You’d rather lose that thing than to come here again and be reminded of the biggest heartbreak you’ve ever experienced.

“What are you doing?”

You almost jump at the deep and velvety voice, eyes widened at the sight of what used to be your boyfriend in front of you. He eyes your bag, a silent question decorating his features.

“Leaving,” you answer nonchalantly, almost scoffing at him. How the fuck does it look like? You surely aren’t going on a holiday.

“Why?” he asks, his voice suddenly getting more cautious and louder when he sees your distance, especially when you walk past him.

His footsteps are heard behind you, and you wish he’d just ignore you like he’s been doing for the past couple of months.

“We both know why,” you mutter, rolling your eyes before you stop at the picture frame that’s sitting on the dresser. It’s the picture of you and him, taken sometime when you started dating. It’s your picture and you’re the one who brought it when you moved in, it’s been decorating Yoongi’s apartment ever since.

That’s the one thing you’re willing to purposely leave behind, you don’t want that.

Feeling his eyes burning at the side of your face, he’s got the perfect view of it being expressionless before you walk past the picture like it means nothing. Because it does. It used to be one of the most precious things you've ever owned. It was decorating your home, a sweet reminder of your boyfriend whom you loved very much at that time. You missed him every minute but whenever you looked at that picture, it brought a warm feeling to your heart. It made all those moments when you finally were by his side, able to kiss him, even more precious. Now, that picture brings nothing but emptiness and irritant feeling instead. And it's only one person's fault and that person is standing just a few meters away from you with the most heartbreaking eyes. As if you're the one who broke him first.

“Come on, we can talk about this. Please, just let’s sit down and talk about this.”

The desperation that raises up in his tone is quite surprising to you, but you don’t react. Just when you’re standing in front of your suitcases, you glance at him. He stares at you with a hopeful gaze, but you just shake your head.

“What’s there to talk about?” you ask him.

It’s that unbothered tone and expression that makes him panic. Why are you so calm? He knew this day will come, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

“We both know this is not working out.” you tell him calmly.

“Baby,” he tries, causing the corner of your mouth to quirk up but it’s only for a second. It’s sarcastic that he remembered to call you that just now, when he barely called you anything in months. “Please.”

“Why don’t you go back to whoever you’ve been fucking behind my back?” you ask him, raising a brow at him.

He opens his mouth, a horrific expression decorating his pale face acting like it’s not obvious. At first it wasn’t, you were too blind at the beginning and then too stubborn to admit something your mind was telling you.

“Let me—“

“What? Explain? No, thanks. I’m done, Yoongi.” you tell him, turning around to grab your suitcases and just go.

When his hand grasps your wrist to keep you in place, your eyes snap to him ready to cuss him out but you’re speechless when you see the tears forming in his eyes.

“Please,” he begs, tears streaming down his cheeks. There were times when you’d cry at the sight, doing your best to comfort him but not now. Those times are gone.

Slowly, you pull your hand from his grip, ignoring his hurt face and how it scrunches both in pain and desperation.

Why is he suddenly acting so hurt over you leaving? 

“You should’ve seen it coming,” you tell him coldly, “Fucking someone behind my back— it was just a matter of time before I’d found out and I did. Long time ago but I’m done.”

Turning around, you take your suitcases and reach towards the knob to finally escape the suffocating air thanks to Yoongi. You don’t cry, you can’t and you don’t want you. You’ve already cried enough because of this man that proved to be someone that never deserved your tears. You’re numb to this.

“Before you go,” he speaks up, voice raising in panic when you’re about to open the door. “Is there something I can do to make this better?”

The regret in his voice is audible, but you don’t react to it at all. You see it written all over his face, he realized what he’s done and now that he sees you leaving from his apartment and life, there’s nothing but sorrow and pain screaming from him.

“Before I go?” you chuckle bitterly, “You went first, you went away first as soon as you decided to have sex with someone else.”

And that’s the final straw, he doesn’t deserve a second of your time and an ounce of your attention. Ending it with that, not answering him purposely because there’s nothing that could make this situation better, you take all of your stuff and leave out of his luxurious apartment. Before you fully walk away from him, you grab your keys — the ones he gave you before you even moved in — and you toss it on the floor. It lands right in front of his feet, tears streaming down his face as he looks at the keys. It still has the keychain he gave you.

The last thing he hears is the gentle thud of you closing the door, but to his ears it's the loudest sound he has heard. Along with his cracking heart but it just proves to be even louder.

[shatouto]

another sequel to @obiwanobi's ex-sith anakin au (here and here), and at this rate… yea. yea we’re gonna have to archive this on ao3 (soon)

anyway here’s 2.8k words of tonal inconsistency

et si les étoiles sont cachées

Obi-Wan barely sleeps a wink through the night. His mind turns and whirls as he battles between second-guessing his decisions regarding the former Sith sleeping in his bed and planning on what to do going forward. Anakin knows how to cloak his own signature well enough, that much Obi-Wan can observe, but he will not stand a chance if Masters such as Yoda or Windu search his presence. And then there is the matter of the elusive Darth Sidious’ death, as well - Obi-Wan can only assume that it would be classified information on the Confederacy side, but even then, the Force only knows what kind of hell would break loose once his body is discovered. It doesn’t help that he could barely pull his hand out of Anakin’s without him frowning in his sleep and stirring. He simply has to stay put, with Anakin’s very likely feverish body pressed up against his side in a bed that is only snugly enough for two.

In meditating all of those scenarios, he forgets to account for the hell that breaks loose in his own quarters upon the return of his apprentice.

“Master, what were you thinking?” Ahsoka hisses, eyes darting from him to the closed door of his bedroom, from where the sound of Anakin’s pacing is obvious. Her hand is still clutching one of her lightsabers, alert.

“He was an injured man who crawled to my doorstep for aid, young one.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Surely you cannot expect me to simply turn my back to him, can you? That wouldn’t be the Jedi way.”

“Yes, but…” Ahsoka pinches her own forehead, shoulders dropping in a harsh exhale. “He’s a Sith lord, Master. We’ve all seen what he has done and can do!”

“He was a Sith, Ahsoka. Leading him back to the Light means one less darksider for the galaxy, and no more lives lost. I have always been trying to accomplish this.” Obi-Wan realizes, all of a sudden, that he is trying to convince himself rather than his apprentice. “He came in a moment of need, with nowhere else to go. He no longer wants to remain with the Dark.”

Ahsoka blinks. “And you just trust him? Just like that?”

Well, Obi-Wan wants to say, you didn’t see him on his knees in the hallway with blood covering half his body and bruises the other half; and you didn’t see him hang his head as you took his lightsaber and then his ruined arm off before setting him to bed. Then again, nobody would ever see that: the exact devastation and distress the once-Darth Vader was in last night, at his door. “That is the case, Ahsoka. I would like to trust him, for the time being.”

Ahsoka grumbles something about tried to kill me earlier, didn’t you see that? which of course inspires a twinge of guilt in Obi-Wan - because indeed, this borders on being a foolhardy venture, that his Padawan is dragged into solely by virtue of her sharing quarters with him. She shakes her head and speaks clearly again for him to hear. “...Fine, I get it. Where do you even plan to house him, Master?”

Obi-Wan pauses. He has had plenty of time in the night to consider this, and still he cannot find any better solution than the one he is about to suggest. “I suppose there is no place safer than here.”

“Here? You mean as in, your own quarters, in the Jedi Temple?” Ahsoka stresses on the last few words, incredulous.

Something crashes inside his room, followed by Anakin’s muffled curse. Obi-Wan looks his apprentice dead in the eye as he lets out a sigh, and says, “Yes.”

—

Anakin is strangely good at cooking.

Obi-Wan supposes he shouldn’t have presumed; after all, being a Sith apprentice should probably not interfere with the more mundane aspects of life. But not only is Anakin’s cooking distinctly above average (how did he learn enough skills to make a three-course meal out of the few basic ingredients in Obi-Wan’s pantry, and at what cost?), he also seems to undertake the task with zeal. It’s rather endearing to watch him shuffle around the kitchenette in warm beige pants that barely reach his ankles, and a left sleeve that doesn't need to be rolled up because it's already too short for his long arm.

It’s been less than a week since Anakin first comes to his door. He clearly doesn't like Ahsoka, but with one arm and no lightsaber and Obi-Wan firmly telling him to behave, he eventually, and clearly grudgingly, tolerates her presence, from time to time. The gleam in his eyes is still worrying, from time to time, but the most Anakin does nowadays when Ahsoka passes by is turn his back to her. He seems to be trying his best, which is why Obi-Wan feels immensely guilty for having to preface their meal with a rather somber question.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, as Anakin sets down before him a plate of steak that smells nearly the same as that one luxurious dish he once had while in disguise as a socialite at a prestigious fine dining party. It isn’t the materiality that is distracting, but the efforts that must have gone into it. “I would like to ask you a question.”

Anakin sits down opposite of him, balancing himself. Even with the Force, he’s unused to not having a weight elbow-down on his right hand. “What? Leftover is in the kitchen for your apprentice. If she wants it.” His voice still sharpens at your apprentice, defensive. “I didn’t mean to let her starve.”

Obi-Wan is torn between a smile and a grimace. “No, that isn’t my question, Anakin. I’ve been wondering if you knew of your allies’ plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Anakin’s eyes narrow, warily. “It depends. Dooku knew most. I just did battlefield strategy.”

“You don’t happen to know if there has been recent plans to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor, do you?” It has been on Obi-Wan’s mind ever since he was summoned to an urgent Council meeting days ago. Investigative teams reported that the Supreme Chancellor has gone missing; then midway through the meeting, another report came, and so they ended up discussing how to keep peace while the Senate would break the staggering news of the Supreme Chancellor’s death to the entire galaxy and organize an emergency election. The timing fit too well with Anakin’s arrival, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Oh, there’s never any.” Anakin shrugs, tension melting out of his shoulder. He begins to cut into his steak without a care.

Obi-Wan frowns. There has been plenty of attempted assassinations before, as well as kidnapping - he himself has been sent to protect the Chancellor on many occasions. He’s loath to contradict Anakin, though, so he asks, carefully: “And you are sure?”

“I’m sure,” Anakin says, swallowing a mouthful. “My mas—Darth Sidious, is Palpatine.”

It takes Obi-Wan a stunned moment, while Anakin just continues to eat.

Well, the Council had their suspicions, but it was never so direct. Some have speculated, very privately, that the Chancellor might be linked to a darksider in some way. Perhaps somebody who is in opposition to Count Dooku, another Master has raised. But for the Chancellor *himself* to be this elusive, mysterious Darth Sidious, seems downright unfathomable.

“You…” Obi-Wan pauses, rewording the sentence in his mind for the seventh time. “I would like you to be serious, Anakin. That was not a joke, was it?”

Anakin, unsmiling, turns his eyes up to him with a look of confusion as if saying What’s a joke? “Darth Sidious is Palpatine,” he repeats. “I’m not allowed—I was not allowed to call him that, though.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. The timing does line up far too well. “Anakin, that means you have... disposed of the Supreme Chancellor.”

Anakin scoffs, scrunches up his nose, and shrugs again. “If you put it that way,” he mutters, slouching down even lower as he pointedly eats his food.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then closes it again. He sighs at the ceiling, and picks up his fork and knife. Might as well enjoy a good meal before the migraine sets in.

—

To his own amazement, Obi-Wan is getting used to the way Anakin follows him around like a hatchling, whenever he is home.

During the first few days, it took Obi-Wan a considerable amount of patient explanation to convince Anakin not to sit on the floor at the foot of the door frame until he came back. His reasons ranged from “It’s rather undignified for you” (to which Anakin said, “I’ve done worse,” at which point Obi-Wan had to switch subjects immediately, putting a pin in it for future unpacking), to “You might catch a cold, sitting here for so long” (to which Anakin answered, “It’ll go away on its own,” which prompted Obi-Wan to check his temperature immediately, only to realize that Anakin had been cloaking his fever for at least a day, and - well, that was another pin on the board). In the end, it was only the allowance for him to use the kitchenette that kept the former Sith from waiting at the door like a hound, rather busying himself at the stove instead. It was a great decision through and through, considering how much Anakin improved the quality of their meals.

But otherwise, Anakin still makes no secret of his immediate attachment to him. Perhaps there should be no surprise in that, considering the sort of upbringing he must have suffered through; not that Obi-Wan knows much of it anyway, considering how quiet Anakin remains and how reluctant he himself is to ask personal questions. Nevertheless, from the way Anakin acted - finding his way into the Jedi Temple and declaring his trust to a sworn enemy rather than relying on his own Sith allies - it isn’t hard to infer that this man has had precious little reason to put his trust into anybody in his surroundings. It also aligns with the Sith ways, Obi-Wan speculates - and could only dare speculate, because truth be told he does not know all that much of the Sith outside of his research on ancient texts. Contemporary Sith are few. The Master might just make his own rules, and Darth Sidious - the Supreme Chancellor, Force have mercy - seemed like the type to play cruel games. So he has every reason to understand and empathize. And he truly does extend his most heartfelt compassion to this wayward Force-wielder.

That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with Anakin’s irritability whenever Obi-Wan comes back from a mission.

He’s clearly unhappy about Obi-Wan being away, especially if he discovers that the mission has been with Ahsoka. He only grows more upset and quick-tempered as time goes by; it begins with him upturning the decorative datapad shelves in the living room, escalating to a series of broken glasses and plates in the kitchenette; finally one day Obi-Wan comes back home to knives lodged in the wall, Anakin in the midst of pulling them out.

Anakin has the decency to look sheepish, even just slightly, as he silently puts away all the knives and hides himself in the kitchen completely. He cleans up, at least. In fact, he was almost always in the middle of cleaning up when Obi-Wan caught him in the act, which prompts the question: How many other times has he done this while left alone?

Obi-Wan only sighs. It does border on cruelty to keep somebody alone in these cramped quarters for weeks on end. He also knows that whatever measures he has set up to keep Anakin safe here - from the world, and from Anakin himself, - it would be a fatal oversight to underestimate the ability of a former Sith. He has no doubts that Anakin, even while one-handed and saber-less, could escape if he truly wanted to. The fact that Anakin willingly keeps himself stowed away in a Jedi’s quarters while desperately and entertaining himself through destructive means only to then be embarrassed about it… is a testament to some budding virtue, Obi-Wan supposes. And it only intensifies his guilt: it’s as if he’s taking advantage of Anakin’s trust to confine him to solitude, while he himself pushes back and back the kind of work a true mentor would need to engage in to help Anakin. The fact that he is fighting a war, or whatever is left of it, is no excuse.

It is with resolution that he stands up and heads into the kitchen. Their eyes meet as soon as he steps in; clearly enough, Anakin has been watching him. Anakin’s fingers grip the counter, knuckles blanched. Obi-Wan holds up his hands, moving as slowly and unpredictably as possible, and cuts to the chase.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go outside, Anakin.”

Anakin’s brows shoot up, but he still doesn’t unclench his jaws.

“I believe it’s rather unfair to keep you locked inside,” Obi-Wan explains. “After all, cooking can only do so much to spend all of one’s pent up energy.” He gives a small, gentle smile, inwardly anxious because of the way Anakin still looks at him with his guards up, shoulders squared, halfway between fight and flight. “I am not suggesting anything much, Anakin. Only a walk in the park, if it suits you. The decision is up to you.”

A moment or two passes in thick, awkward silence. Then Anakin, hesitantly: “Will you be there?”

It’s the first pleasant surprise Obi-Wan has had in what felt like an age. His smile grows, unbidden. “Yes, I insist.”

—

Autumn winds reel through his hair before rushing off to rustle in the foliage. The nightly air is crisp on his cheeks, and Obi-Wan doesn’t even think to tighten his robes around him; he enjoys a nice, chilly evening. Silence is alleviated by the song of insects in the grass, as they make their way down the serpentine path, round fountains and beds of flowers. Their robes flutter, and their hands are firmly linked.

It’s nothing that cannot be explained by strict necessity, or so Obi-Wan reasons: He must be able to make sure Anakin never strays from his sight, for safety reasons; and he dislikes the thought of putting any kind of binding or chains or even just a simple tied thread on Anakin. As usual, when all else fails, undertaking by hand is the solution - hence Anakin’s hand in his own, their palms warmly interfacing, their calluses fitting together.

The contact is also enjoyable, but that’s beside the point.

“I like the sky at night,” Anakin says, sudden but quiet. Obi-Wan glances at him to find Anakin not looking back at him for once. Anakin’s hood has long since slipped off because of the way he tips his head back to turn his eyes to the stars. Most of them are shrouded by gathering clouds, but some of them still shine through the dark.

“I see,” Obi-Wan muses. “May I ask why?”

For once, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I like to look at the stars. They’re just suns, but far away. Can’t burn you, only blink at you.” Anakin’s hand tightens just a little. A patch of wildflowers gently glows when the two of them pass by. “When you blink back at them, you’re not alone.”

“And what if the stars are hidden?” Obi-Wan gestures, voice light, even as his heart sinks. He knows a lonely child, or one who used to be a lonely child, when he sees one. “What do you do then?”

The sigh that follows is lost in a gust of wind. There’s only the slightest of tremors in Anakin’s fingertips. They fall back into silence, deeper silence this time, as even the insects seem to quiet. The air feels earthy and damp with a coming rain. The sky blackens as clouds roil and thicken, and suddenly it’s dark as pitch and the comfortable coolness splinters into shivers under his skin. When the first drop falls, Obi-Wan reaches over to draw up Anakin’s hood for him. Anakin turns to him, eyes downcast.

“Then I’m alone,” he answers, belated and small.

—

“Maybe you’re right, Master.” Ahsoka picks up her steaming mug of tea, sinking comfortably into her amply cushioned seat on the couch. A strip of morning sunlight draws lazily across the room. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. He’s getting... nicer, lately. You should keep walking him.”

Obi-Wan chuckles at the turn of phrase. Walking him… “I don’t think it’s my doing,” he says, pouring a little more tea for himself. Anakin shuffles from one corner of the kitchenette to another, apron strings fluttering behind him. Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes a sip of tea, smiling. “I don’t think it’s my doing at all.”

[cosmiceverafter]

20 for the touch asks?

20. bandaging/stitching up an injury

@chamblerstara / @manesalex - sorry this took me so long, but I hope you enjoy it. It was wonderful writing for our boys again. Thank you for the inspiration. ❤

***

I'll take care of you.

Alex missed Michael, which was why he had picked up a 6-pack from the local market and was now standing outside of the alien's trailer even though a windstorm had just passed through Roswell.

They were both single, and any time they were together, the air seemed to grow thick with desire. It was undeniable. Not that Alex wanted to deny it, not anymore.

It was crystal clear at this point that Alex's heart would always belong to Michael. Whether the alien felt the same...well, that's what Alex wanted to find out.

Taking a deep breath, he commanded his feet to step closer to the metal door. With a tap, tap, tap of his knuckles, Alex waited patiently.

After a moment, he heard a shuffle and then something dropping to the ground.

"Michael?" Alex called out, suddenly worried. When he didn't hear a reply, Alex pounded with his fist. "Michael, are you in there? Are you okay?"

Finally, he heard Michael say, "Alex, I'm fine. Just...come back later."

But Michael wasn't okay—Alex could tell by the tone of his hoarse voice. "Open the damn door, Michael."

When he heard a loud curse, the door opened up by itself with the help of his love's powers. It always sent a thrill through Alex to witness it.

Alex took all but two seconds to maneuver his body into the airstream, and that was when he saw Michael huddled over his small bed, shirtless with blood trailing down his back.

"Damn..." Alex hissed out as he took in the sight of the alien's body. He rushed over to Michael.

"I've been working out," Michael quipped, shifting to give Alex a half-grin.

Alex ignored Michael's deflecting. "What the hell happened, Guerin?"

Michael winced as he sat onto the bed, "Nothing. Just a stupid accident. It's fine."

"I swear to God, Michael—"

The alien put his hands up, "Okay, okay, Manes. Don't get your blood pressure cookin'."

Alex frowned, raising an eyebrow, "Well? Tell me."

Michael smirked and tilted his head to the side, "Yea' know, you're pretty sexy when you get in protective control mode."

Alex's heart fluttered, but he shook his head, getting even closer to Michael. "Please, just tell me what happened."

Michael's humorous expression fell. He glanced down at his hand, which Michael had finally uncovered, "I went out in the middle of the desert to analyze my new equipment, and it didn't go according to plan."

"Which equipment would that be?"

"I didn't tell you?" Michael asked, confused.

"No..." Alex answered, feeling put out over that fact. There had been a time not too long ago, where they were working closely together side-by-side. What had changed? And why did it hurt so badly that it was no longer the case?

Michael winced as he twisted his upper body to grab a wet rag. "I am trying to build a device, well, a pod-like type structure to communicate..." He suddenly looked up, and if Alex didn't know any better, embarrassment was showing upon Michael's handsome scruffy face.

"With your kind?"

"Somethin' like that."

With a reassuring smile, Alex sat on the far side of Michael's tiny bed, "That's amazing, Guerin. Any success so far?"

Michael shook his head in disappointment, his curls swaying, "I thought maybe I had gotten somewhere with the damn thing...I heard somethin', but just before I could examine what I was actually catching, that damn windstorm came out of nowhere and blew one of the metal rods directly onto my back."

Shit. "Did it break?"

"Yes, unfortunately. It got pretty messed up." Michael groaned and rubbed his hand over his face, "I clearly won't be attempting it again any time soon."

Michael stood up with a hard sigh and attempted to reach behind his back to wipe the cut.

"Can I help you?" Alex asked before he realized the words were out of his mouth.

Michael tensed but acknowledged Alex with a stiff nod, "Sure. Thanks."

Alex took a deep breath and stood up, taking the rag from Michael, trying to ignore the thrill he felt at their fingers touching. Only Michael made his body come alive like this—Alex never wanted the feeling to disappear.

Gently, Alex touched the rag onto the deep cut, and Michael hissed. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Michael responded. "Here, let me turn on a bit more light." With his powers, a lantern slowly illuminated the small space with a glow.

It was the first time, in far too long, that Alex could observe Michael's body properly. In the light, Michael's skin shone as the moon covers the sand with sparkling dust. His beautiful curls twisted and turned, capturing the light as it touched his soft tan neck.

Alex swallowed and demanded his attention to Michael's injury. With deliberate action on his part, Alex wiped the blood away and could see Michael gripping at his jeans. "Maybe we should have Kyle come look at this. You may need stitches."

"Nah, it's late, and the good doctor probably has far more important patients to look after."

But you are important, Alex wanted to say.

"Besides," Michael added, turning his head, looking Alex up-and-down, "I'm obviously in good hands here."

"We'll see about that," Alex replied with a laugh. "It's been some time since I've had to put my first-aid skills to the test."

"But you learned the skills, right?"

"Yup, in the military, we're trained in all areas."

"Mmm," Michael murmured, "no wonder you're so talented with those hands."

This. This right here was what Alex missed. The playful banter between the two, with that suggestive flirting. It came so naturally to them both, and Alex wanted to soak it up like a sponge. "Hush, let me finish."

"Yes, sir," Michael laughed, swirling back around. Michael propped his muscular arms up against the wall in front of him and bowed his head down.

Alex had to keep reminding himself that Michael was injured and now was not the time to think what he was so desperately imagining at that moment. But it was challenging with Michael bent over like that, his backside so close to the front of Alex's pants.

It had been so long since they had been together like that. Only in Alex's dreams did he allow himself to travel into the memory of bliss once more.

"Okay," Alex said, breaking the silence, "can you sit back on the bed?" He cleared his throat, hoping Michael couldn't hear how low his voice had become. "I'm going to bandage you up now."

Michael glanced back at him as if he caught on to Alex's dirty ideas and nodded, "Yup, I can do that." He sat down and pointed to the dresser, "The bandage is in the first drawer."

"Thanks," Alex said, stepping in front of Michael to retrieve the bandage. When he picked it up, Alex noticed a picture underneath.

It was of them, younger in the desert. Alex was holding his guitar, and Michael was smiling as he stared over at him. Alex could remember the exact day, it had been a lovely day between them, and Alex's chest suddenly felt tight.

"You okay?" Michael asked from behind him.

Alex nodded, not trusting his voice as a wave of emotion came over him. The past connected them, and Alex wondered if the future was theirs for the taking or if they would forever remain in the memories.

"Alex?"

Gripping the bandage, Alex turned around, holding the photograph of them in his other hand, "The picture of us in the desert."

"Oh, yeah," Michael's mouth fell open in surprise. "I forgot I put it in there."

"You kept it, after all this time?"

"Of course I did," Michael replied with a shrug. "We don't have many together."

"Well, we should change that," Alex instantly responded.

"Yeah, I think we should." Michael smiled that beautiful smile of his and laughed, "Should we start now? This moment is quite the experience to share with the world—your incredible wrapping skills and my epic loss to the windstorm."

"It would give the people of Roswell something to talk about," Alex added as he joined in with laughter. "That's for sure."

"As if they need more to discuss. Hell, we have enough tourists trying to spot little green aliens!"

Alex smirked, "I'll just add the caption, 'Just wrapping up a cowboy alien, who's anything but green. How's your night going?'"

"Yee-haw! I like it!" Sharing a good laugh, Alex put the picture back into the drawer and closed his eyes, hoping for more moments shared such as these.

Beyond the humor, it wasn't a deep conversation of their future together, but it was, in fact, a door opening.

Feeling a deep sense of relief, Alex finally came back towards Michael and sat behind him. Letting his abilities take over, he started wrapping the bandage around Michael, allowing his fingers to trail over Michael's chest greedily. The light moment between them had shifted; now, another emotion took its place.

Alex pushed up closer to Michael's back, and he could smell Michael's scent: Bourbon, rust, and rain. It was 100% Michael, and it felt like coming home.

Michael sighed and seemed to lean back without even recognizing he was moving. Alex steadied him and peered down at Michael's back. The bandage covered the injury nicely, and Alex's lips hovered just above Michael's skin. He wanted nothing more than to press a soft kiss right there as he had so many times before.

The alien trembled as if he could sense what Alex desired. The invisible string that pulled Alex in was a smooth ride; pulling away was the challenging resistance.

"All finished."

Michael turned to face Alex, and his fingers grazed the back of Alex's hand. "Thank you. I appreciate those gifted hands of yours."

Alex beamed, enjoying the compliment probably a bit too much, "Anytime." He meant it. Alex would always be there for Michael.

They gazed at each other, which felt like an eternity and a flash of a second all in one. It was so easy to get lost in those eyes.

Finally, Michael shook his head and moved away, snapping Alex out of his trance, "Sorry, I didn't even ask why you stopped by tonight."

"I just wanted to see you," Alex answered truthfully. "I even brought you something you like."

"What is that? You?"

Alex blushed, but luckily it was still too dark in the airstream for Michael to witness, "A delicious elixir of sorts." He nodded towards the beer.

"Not as good, but a very close second," Michael laughed as he set his warm hand on Alex's leg. "You're so thoughtful, Manes."

"What can I say? I try to be," Alex said, raising an eyebrow. The flirting was strong tonight, not that Alex was complaining.

"Who knew you'd have to take care of an alien instead?"

"I didn't mind," Alex shrugged. "Truly."

Michael squeezed Alex's leg and bit into his lip. His expression was somewhat changing, "I have something to ask you."

"Okay...shoot."

"Will you help me?"

"I thought I already had." Michael narrowed his eyes, and Alex smirked, "Help you with what, Michael?"

"With my communicator? I can't do it alone, and with my genius of a brain and those magnificently talented hands of yours, I think we could create some magic here." Yes, they could. In more ways than one. Getting serious, Michael looked down at the blanket on his bed, "I should've asked you a while ago."

"You're asking me now. That's what matters," Alex replied. "I would love to help create with you, Guerin."

"That's what I was hoping you'd say."

Alex smiled, feeling love for Michael pour out of his heart. He would create it all with Michael if only given a chance to do so. "While you rest that shoulder of yours, explain your vision, and we'll go from there."

Michael returned the grin and started expressing what he imagined within that brilliant mind of his, never faltering and never losing the gleam in his eyes.

This moment was proof that even though they had been through hell and back, the two of them could face any challenge—weather any storm.

Together, Michael and Alex could conquer the galaxy as long as they had each other.