#it just feels like a. not. necessarily safe thing to announce also talk to me a few baby youll be able to tell dw

[femmefaggot]

truly cannot imagine what sort of audience pins that say "autistic" and such are for

[naughtyneganjdm]

On the Run - Chapter 13

Summary: The group goes ahead with Bill's plan of action to find out who is trying to kill Y/N, but things don't go to plan.

Characters: Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Negan (The Walking Dead), the reader (OC, third person), Bill (The Last of Us), Frank (The Last of Us), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47007172/chapters/124256413

Warnings: Swearing, angst, violence, etc.

Notes: One more chapter left after this one. Sorry it took a while for me to post this one. I needed to take some time from social media. Thank you you to those who read this!

“I don’t like this,” Negan announced with tension in his tone scooting closer to the desk that featured all of the screens that Bill had set up inside of the surveillance truck that he had. They were all sitting closely together inside of the truck after Bill had instructed them to park it down the street from the address to the warehouse that was texted to him. With the surveillance Bill set up, they could see inside the warehouse, outside and could also watch whatever Bill was seeing from the camera he had hidden on his jacket. Everyone was watching closely in anticipation, not sure what to expect next. “Sending Bill in alone doesn’t feel right.”

“I think Bill is very capable of taking care of himself,” Joel tried to suggest gazing over at Negan from where they were sitting cramped together watching the screens. “This was his whole idea. We know that he can take care of himself.”

“Not to be an asshole, but have you looked at the guy? Compared to you and me I don’t see him being able to hold up against a group of people if he has to,” Negan grumbled under his breath, his face tensing up and showing the visible stress that was flooding through his body. “Bill is the brains, not necessarily the strength.”

“You know I can hear you,” Bill huffed through the earpiece after Negan went off on the whole thing. “There is a reason all of us are wearing earpieces. So everything you are saying, I hear.” 

“We know honey, but you can’t be talking to us. Whoever is meeting up with you is going to think you are crazy,” Frank hushed Negan, waving his hand about while Y/N and Joel scoot in closer to the screens to get a look at everything. “Right now there is no one at the location. So take your time walking because you don’t want to show up early and get bombarded.”

“Now remember your safe word. You use it and the two of us will be there in no time,” Joel coached Bill, sliding in closer to Frank while he surveyed the video that was attached to Bill’s jacket. Deep down Joel knew that Negan was right. Bill going in alone just didn’t make much sense, but Bill insisted. “Negan and I will grab whatever we need. We’ll come in after you.”

“Ten-four,” Bill muttered, his deep breaths filling the air while he walked up the hill toward the warehouse. Every second that passed felt like an extraordinarily large amount of time. “Of course this place had to be on a fucking hill. I’m going to be passing out by the time that I get up there.”

“See what I mean?” Negan whispered letting out a grunt when Y/N smacked at the center of his chest. Throwing his hands up in the air, Negan knew that he wasn’t wrong about this whole thing. Sending Bill in alone was almost a death sentence for this guy if things went wrong and he didn’t want Bill to die.

“You’ve got this,” Y/N emphasized glancing back at Negan who was now surveying the guns they had brought with them. Of course they hoped they wouldn’t have to use them, but she knew that Negan was preparing just in case. Bill had several guns and knives on himself to keep him safe, but she knew that Negan was severely uncomfortable with this whole thing. Reaching her hand out, she placed her hand in over Negan’s knee and caressed over it. The motion made him look to her hand and his jaw flexed in uneasiness. Placing his hand over hers, he hooked their fingers together and swallowed down hard. “Just know we’re right here with you Bill.”

“I’m coming up on the warehouse. This is where I stop,” Bill informed them and Joel’s face was locked on the screen. Coming to a full stop, Bill looked around when he noticed that the parking lot was empty. “I’m still the only one here.”

“It’s not exactly the time yet,” Joel informed Bill looking to his watch that was on his wrist. Clearing his throat, Joel’s foot was tapping about a mile a minute showing his nervousness as well. “Just give it some time Bill.”

“We should have the truck closer,” Negan blurt out feeling tense about the whole thing. It made Y/N’s fingers hook tighter around his and he sighed. “It’s too far away.”

“It’s not that far away Negan. It wouldn’t look right just having a white van sitting there right next to the warehouse when nothing else is around. It’s like a sore thumb telling the person hey look we’re right here, come find us,” Joel responded which elicited a grunt from Negan’s throat. “This is to make sure that we are safe enough away to still get the reception of the video while hiding.”

“Would you two please shut up?” Bill scoffed on his end of the video showing that he was gazing around the area. The sun was starting to set and it was growing darker. “I need to have a clear mind to pull this off and you two bickering is not going to help.”

“We’ll keep them quiet,” Frank promised waving his hand about trying to get both Negan and Joel to shut up. Frank had to focus as well because he was the one in control of everything. Everything that Bill set up for him to be in control of that was. From one of the street cameras Frank could see a truck approaching. “Alright Bill, we have…” seeing that there was more than one SUV made Frank swallow down hard. “You have three vehicles approaching.”

“I told you this was a bad fucking idea,” Negan muttered under his breath, the tension growing in his body when the three large vehicles surrounded Bill. This wasn’t how the plan was supposed to go. They all knew that. Negan knew from the start they were never going to play fair. “Remember Bill, we are right here. You say the word and I will be there before you know it.”

“He’s got this,” Frank assured Negan, waving him down and Negan could feel his heart hammering inside of his chest. Bringing Y/N’s hand up, Negan deposited a kiss over the back of her hand before lowering it back to his lap. Y/N’s life really depended on this whole situation. If it fell through, she would never be safe and they all knew that. “I’m assuming the big dog is in the central car. Just keep your cool and we can get what we need. Easy peezy.”

“Really?” Negan snorted, his hazel eyes gazing over at Frank who gave a small shrug. Grumbling to himself, Negan scoot in closer to the screen, his eyes locked on the camera that was attached to Bill’s jacket. Waiting for the doors to open, Negan let out a shuddering, disappointed breath when a familiar face was revealed. Loosening his grasp over Y/N’s hand, he felt his arm go limp when the face became clearer in Bill’s footage. “That’s Simon.”

“I am so sorry,” Joel whispered knowing that Simon was Negan’s best friend. Upset filled Negan’s hazel eyes and it was obvious he was broken to know that Simon had something to do with this. Honestly? Joel wasn’t as surprised. “It makes sense Negan. It always made sense. After you told him about Poppy? How he sent a cleaning crew instead of someone to help. And then the people at the safehouse? Simon was always the obvious choice.”

“I know, I just…” Negan began finding himself losing the words. Stealing another glance at Y/N he felt guilty. Maybe this was his fault all along that he could never bring himself to believe that Simon was capable of something like this. Damn it, he hated that he was getting emotional over this whole thing, but he was. “I never thought he would do something like this. Not after everything we’ve been through together. I thought we were friends.”

Simon made an elaborate gesture that caught their eye pulling them to look back to the screen. Watching Negan, Y/N could sense that he was shattered to know that the one person he cared about other than her in his life was one of the bad guys. Like Joel, she wasn’t surprised to see his face. She was just curious as to how he made this whole thing happen.

“Are you the guy?” Simon arrogantly questioned pulling his black sunglasses from his face. Dramatically he bobbed his head about and Joel turned to look at Negan who lowered his head into his palm. Seeing Simon at the other end of the feed was hard for Negan to accept.

“I’m the guy,” Bill put emphasis on the word as Simon extended his hand out to Bill. Accepting the shake, Bill was obviously cautious when multiple men got out of the cars. Once their faces became clearer in the video, Y/N had recognized more than a few of the faces. These were all men that worked for Simon when it came to her father. “Are you the guy?”

“I’m not the guy, but I’m a guy,” Simon explained with a snicker throwing his arms up to give an over-the-top shrug.

“What does that mean?” Bill inquired, his voice changing when he gazed around the men that were surrounding him. “I requested that it just be me and the man in charge. This feels a bit much. Don’t you think?”

“For me? Oh yeah. Totally,” Simon reached out to pat Bill on the shoulder giving it a firm squeeze. “Trust me my man, when we go in, it’s just going to be me and two others. We’re waiting on someone else. But the rest of these folks? They are just here to make sure that things go smoothly. See, I didn’t know if I could trust you because I’m not used to fucking hackers getting in my business. You know what I mean?”

“I hate to break it to you friend, but when you offer that kind of money and you send the information out to multiple people you need to learn to hide things better,” Bill responded to Simon’s comment. Snickering, Simon almost seemed amused to hear Bill’s counter.

“Hmmm…just tell me how you actually did it,” Simon urged Bill to explain further, waving his hand in the air wanting more details. “How did you find this whole thing in the first place? You really have to understand how strange it is to be getting a text from someone…a complete stranger telling you that they did what no one else could. You have a gigantic sack for even trying this in the first place.”

“The future governor has a shooting at his house where his child goes missing and you don’t think you’re going to have people interested?” Bill replied in such a way where he didn’t seem worried at all. In fact it impressed Y/N with how good Bill was acting everything out. There was no fear in his voice. Bill seemed bored with the whole encounter. “I dug into everything. I’m a hacker. I was able to find texts, learn about those men that were killed at the first safehouse. You sent out a lot of texts. It wasn’t like you were hiding it.”

“I see,” Simon seemed to be scrutinizing Bill with his gaze.

“You know I know who you are too,” Bill informed Simon showing that he wasn’t afraid or backing down. It made Negan wonder if that was really the right approach to this whole thing.

“Oh?” that peaked Simon’s interest.

“You’re Philip Blake’s head of security, Simon. I guess I should have known that someone on the inside was in charge. It was too convenient,” Bill thought aloud causing Simon’s jaw to tense up while he stared out at Bill with curiosity. “I learned everything I could about Philip Blake and his family. Along with the three that were with Blake’s daughter. Tell me, did you just start to hate your job or…?”

“I thought you know everything,” Simon mocked, his eyebrows bouncing up when Bill took a step back to eye him over. “I mean go ahead. Tell me what you think happened here. I’m dying to hear what your theory is.”

“I never claimed to know everything. I just know more than the average person does,” Bill corrected Simon who gave a small smirk in response. “I just know you work for the man whose daughter went missing. And you were best friends with the big one.”

“Hmm…” Simon hummed in response making Negan tense up from where he was seated in the white van with the others. Instead of acknowledging what Bill said, Simon just folded his arms in front of his chest. The expression over Simon’s face was hard to read. There was no way to tell if Bill was right or not because Simon was giving nothing away. 

“My guess as to why you are doing this? You got sick of working for Philip Blake. You knew how much money he was really worth and you were getting paid scraps. Decided to take things into your own hands. While working for a man like that you are going to have access to all kinds of things and you took advantage of it. Philip had to have gotten rich enemies through the years willing to work with you to take advantage of his running for office and killing his daughter to make a point,” Bill deduced and his theory sounded like it could be right. It made the most sense. “I think your biggest mistake was the country singer. You just weren’t hiring the right people to truly get the job done.”

“Yeah, Half Moon got…carried away,” Simon tipped his head to the side letting out a tense sound when he sucked in a sharp breath of air. “It was a case of someone taking a situation into their own hands. But what I really want to know is how you found Y/N and the two men. They disappeared off the grid. No one saw them. At all and trust me, we were looking. So how did you do it when no one else could?”

“Because I’m not like anyone else,” Bill answered with a smug tone and amusement flooded Simon’s features. His dark eyes were hooked on Bill like a hawk and it was obvious that Simon was absolutely curious about the man that Bill was. “What I’m capable of is quite amazing.”

“A man of mystery, I like that,” Simon stepped forward and wrapped his arm firmly around Bill’s shoulders pulling him toward the front door of the warehouse. “So you just typed some things into your little computer and you were able to find out whatever you wanted?”

Frank shifted his seating when he adjusted to watch the screens where Simon was now walking into the warehouse with Bill and two other people. Like Simon said, the rest of them stayed outside while Simon and Bill walked over toward a container at the center of the warehouse. Simon sat down on top of it and threw his hands up in the air.

“I could find anything I want about anyone,” Bill was honest and they all knew that. Hell, Bill had something on every single one of them. Things that no one really knew, so Bill wasn’t lying to Simon. “After they left the motel, I was able to track their SUV by using traffic cameras. Following them after that wasn’t very hard. They were hiding somewhere in the woods. Thought they would be safe, but my father taught me to hunt when I was a child. I became very good at tracking. Super easy.”

“Look at you, Mr. Smarty Pants,” Simon retorted sucking in a sharp breath of air. “Smarter than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Well if this goes well, maybe you can hire me on so you can actually get your projects done right,” Bill snorted back and there was an annoyance in his tone. “I don’t really mean to press your buttons here, but if you’re the man in charge I’d really like to get my money now.”

“What’s the rush?” Simon scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air. A dramatic, over the top expression flooded his features before he chuckled. “The money is here big guy. You’re not going to get screwed out of your money.”

“Prove it,” Bill blurt out and Simon chuckled before tipping his head from side to side. Letting out a sigh, Simon got up from where he was seated and headed over to the far wall. Reaching for the large painting that was on the wall, Simon set it down on the ground and pointed to the safe that had been hidden behind the painting. “How do I know there is money in there?”

“You’re just going to have to trust me because I don’t have the fucking code,” Simon knocked on the safe letting out an amused sound before heading back over to where he was originally to sit down on top of the container again. “So where are the bodies Mr. Smarty Pants? You were supposed to bring them here.”

“Where is the man in charge? He was supposed to be here,” Bill replied back with a bit of venom in his tone. Simon threw his hands up and almost mocking Bill. The other two people that followed Simon into the warehouse were at the corners of the warehouse and when they shifted on their feet it caught Bill’s attention. “I’m not a stupid man, I knew that by coming here with the bodies I would have no leverage over this situation. You give me the money, I give you the exact location of the bodies. That way we both win.”

“I see,” Simon swallowed down, sucking hard at his bottom lip. “Let me see that photo again.”

Wiggling his fingers, Simon demanded and Bill sounded disgusted. Pulling out his phone, Bill looked through a few things before handing over the phone to Simon who survey the photo over letting out a tense sound.

“Are you going to keep fucking me around or are you going to actually give me the money so I can give you a location and we can get back to our regular everyday life?” Bill snapped finding himself getting uncomfortable with the fact that things were not working out the way he was hoping.

“We need to wait,” Simon asserted with a rumble as his eyes were still locked on the phone. “This looks legit.”

“Because it is,” Bill spoke swiftly making all of them tense from where they were seated inside of the work van. Was Simon questioning the validity of the photo? “The three of them are dead as can be. Waiting for you to go collect them and take care of this so we can get this over with.”

“I told you, I don’t know the combination to the safe,” Simon reminded Bill angering Bill even more. “What are you so damn nervous about? You are about to be a rich man. You can’t handle a little conversation?”

“I’ve never been a very social man,” Bill claimed, folding his arms out in front of his chest. “I like to get things over and done with.”

“Tell me how you did this,” Simon held the phone out showing Bill the photo that was up. “Tell me how you killed them.”

“I told you. They were hiding out in the woods and I was able to track them,” Bill recalled what he had already told Simon who was rolling his eyes in response. “I killed them, I got rid of their SUV and their bodies are waiting where I left them.”

“No, I want details,” Simon tossed the phone to Bill who fumbled to catch it before pushing it back into his pocket. “You’re a smart man. I’m sure you don’t forget details. Go over how you killed them.”

“I killed the big one first,” Bill explained coming up with a story and they hoped that he was able to work well under pressure. “Negan? That was his name, right? Put up a hell of a fight, but he never saw me coming. Took multiple gun shots to finally get him down. Then Joel Miller? Fought like hell to protect her. But he didn’t see me coming. I have my talents at being able to stay hidden. I gutted him. And then when it came to her, she was leaning over the side of Joel’s body trying to help him. She was the easiest. I came up behind her with my knife and I cut her throat. End of story.”

“Bloody,” Simon’s eyebrows bounced up and he stood up from the place he had been seated. Stepping in closer to Bill, his eyes were locked on the smaller man as he cleared his throat. His expression grew dark while he stared down at Bill. “You know the order was to kill just the girl.”

“And the country singer killed her friend, so I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” Bill snapped back and even though it was true, it made Y/N let out a saddened sound knowing that she still wondered what happened to Poppy’s body. Then again, Simon had to admit to being in charge of this whole thing. And once they had him in custody, he would have to be convinced to admit what he did with Poppy’s body. Part of her believed he wouldn’t even do that. “I couldn’t get to her without killing them.”

“You killed the strongest son of a bitch that I ever knew,” Simon informed Bill, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat showing that he was getting angry. Stepping in closer to Bill, the warmth of Simon’s breath was hot over Bill’s face. “He shouldn’t have died at the hands of a hillbilly like you.”

“Oh, fuck this. Give me my money,” Bill demanded before letting out a sharp breath when the sound of a gun going off was heard. Dropping to his knees, Bill grabbed a hold of his abdomen, his eyes big with shock. Standing before him was Simon with a gun that he had managed to sneak out in their discussion.

“You shouldn’t have killed Negan,” Simon snarled down at Bill. The other two men that had joined Simon in the warehouse had stepped forward beside him.

“Son of a bitch,” Negan stood up in the van not waiting for any kind of word from Bill. What they had just seen was reason enough to rush to go help Bill. Grabbing the guns he had selected earlier made Joel cuss out.

Scrambling to keep up with Negan, Joel reached for his supplies as well. Without a second thought, Negan hopped out of the van making Y/N panic. Joel cussed out trying to grab what he could, but he wasn’t keeping up with Negan. Instead of rushing out after Negan, Joel leaned into press a swift kiss over Y/N’s temple. Pulling back, Joel stared out at Frank who looked worried, “You keep her safe. Do you understand me?”

Giving a nod, Frank watched as Joel hopped out of the truck and slammed the doors shut behind him. Joel couldn’t think about Frank and Y/N in this situation. Joel had to be Negan’s back up. Trying to catch up, Joel could see that Negan was already running up the hill toward the warehouse. 

“Hey,” Y/N reached for Frank’s arm inside the van seeing that he was clutching to the table that was before him where they were doing surveillance. In the video she saw Bill fall forward on the ground and Simon lifted his gun to itch at his own temple.

“What the hell Simon?” one of the other men snapped looking down at Bill motionless on the ground. “You weren’t supposed to fucking kill him. We needed the location of the bodies. What are we going to do now?”

“I overreacted,” Simon tossed his hands up in the air looking down at Bill’s body and he dramatically shook his head. “I’m just supposed to be okay with some fucking loser killing Negan? Some fucking hacker hillbilly? I’m sorry, but I’m not okay with that shit. He deserved to go out in a way that fit. Not because of this loser searching the deep web to find the information. Fuck that.”

“What are we going to do?” the other man demanded an answer trying to reach down to check on Bill who was motionless. “I think you fucking killed him.”

“We see the picture. We heard the story. It’s believable,” Simon declared with a loud grumble trying to gather himself. “By the story he told they were in the middle of the woods. No one would be able to track their bodies at this point. Just let the bodies rot.”

As the conversation was taking place, both Negan and Joel were approaching the warehouse together. Joel hid behind one of the trucks that they had brought seeing the men that were surrounding the building. Multiple ones had gone around the back and Joel knew they would be up against over a dozen men.

“We need to come up with a plan in order to go get Bill and get the hell out of here,” Joel explained trying to get Negan to focus while he scouted out the area, his jaw flexing. “I’m sure we can be stealthy, take down who we need and…”

Without even listening to Joel, Negan stood up and started shooting. Because it was random and unannounced Negan was able to shoot several of them making them hit the ground hard while the rest of them spread.

“Son of a bitch! Negan!” Joel called out seeing that a few of them were popping out behind Negan in attempts to shoot him. Thinking quickly, Joel shot multiple times taking the men down with the rifle that he had grabbed hating that it was leading to this.

Inside of the warehouse, Simon had hid himself behind the containers that he had been sitting on previously, trying to keep himself hidden, “Holy shit. The hillbilly had a fucking group of people with him too. I did not see that fucking coming.”

“You shouldn’t have fucking killed him!” one of the other men in the warehouse stood with their gun pointed at the door. “This was stupid. This was so stupid!”

Outside, Negan and Joel made their way toward the front of the warehouse. The way Negan moved for the door like nothing could hurt him worried Joel. Negan was killing people easily without much of a reaction, but by the time they had gotten to the front door, multiple bodies were on the ground and Joel hid himself against the wall.

“The door is locked,” Negan pulled at the door letting out a roar looking back at Joel with frustration in his eyes. “Get Frank to unlock the door.”

“Frank, you have to get the doors unlocked,” Joel instructed moving away from the door to try to get Frank to respond to them. Bill had set everything up so Frank was in control of everything that had to do with the building.

“Joel, they are already unlocked,” Frank explained from where he was looking down at the buttons, confused to what Joel was saying. “They were never locked in the first place.”

“They are unlocked Negan,” Joel was confused when he turned to look and see that Negan had opened the door and was pulling it shut. Running forward, Joel tried to tug open the door but Negan had manually locked the door in his attempts to keep Joel safe. “Negan! No. You can’t do this whole thing alone. You’re just one man.”

“Keep her safe,” Negan demanded pointing in the other direction. It was clear what he wanted from Joel. Hitting the door over and over again Joel was determined to get in with the glass starting to crack, but not enough to make a difference. Instead of opening the door, Negan turned on his heel eliciting a hiss from Joel.

“He locked me out Frank! I need to get in,” Joel explained drawing Frank to let out a nervous sound and he felt Y/N moving around beside him in the truck. “Negan can’t go in there alone.”

“I don’t know what to tell you Joel, the back door is surrounded by them and you know that you can’t go there. Not after what we set up,” Frank looked for an option but there was none. Joel’s loud, frustrated breaths were heard while he continued to pound at the glass on the door trying to break it down. “Break the door down Joel. Use your gun.”

“It’s wasting bullets,” Joel reasoned before using the butt of the gun to hit at the glass until it finally shattered.

“What are you doing?” Frank questioned from where he was seated noticing the way that Y/N was digging through the supplies that was in the work van. When he saw that she had grabbed a handgun, he let out a frustrated sound. “You can’t go there after them Y/N! You know what the plan was!”

“I’m not going to let them get hurt further. Not for me,” she hopped out of the van sticking to her guns. Frank frustratingly breathed out. It looked like he was going to follow her out, but she threw her hand up in the air. “You have to keep them safe from here. You know what you have to do. You can’t leave.”

“Goddamn it,” Frank cussed when she slammed the doors of the van shut behind her leaving Frank inside.

Wincing out, Joel had managed to get his arm through the broken parts of the glass to get the door unhooked and at the same time Negan was approaching the room that Bill had gone in with Simon. When he stepped into the entrance way, he let out a grunt when one of the two managed to shoot him in the arm making him jolt back. Quickly gathering himself, Negan shot multiple times at the man who had shot him, hitting him several times before getting a kill shot in the head. Pointing his gun at the other man who was left standing, Negan cleared his throat and motioned them to throw the gun down.

“Throw it down, now!” Negan demanded seeing the other man shake his head immediately. It looked like he was about to shoot Negan, but another few shots filled the air. Looking back over his shoulder once the body dropped to the ground, Negan saw that Joel was standing behind him. Joel expression was furious. “I fucking told you to stay.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Joel snarled at Negan and it was followed by a surprised sound escaping Simon’s throat when his hand pressed in over the container so he could look back and over to see Negan pointing his rifle out at him. “Negan!”

“Back from the fucking dead,” Simon let out an amused breath making Negan’s face scrunch up in anger and Negan pulled the gun up further. “Was this your idea? You sent this idiot in to stage everything and you got him killed?”

“Don’t,” Joel warned when Simon slowly stood up looking between the two of them. “Don’t move. Or I’ll fucking shoot!”

“I can see that,” Simon was amused, keeping his hands at his hips while Negan remained silent. “You do know at any moment, the rest of the crew is going to come in through the back, right? I’m sure they are making their way there right now as we…”

A booming sound filled the air making Simon drop down and cover his head when debris from an explosion toward the back exit filled the small warehouse. Instead of reacting to the explosion, Negan kept his gun on Simon knowing that the explosion was caused from the explosives that Bill had set up just in case someone tried to sneak into the building. Frank had set it off showing that Simon was right and the rest of the crew was coming in through the back.

“Negan!” Joel called out seeing that a few people were still approaching. It became obvious that not everyone had been effected by the explosion that was set up. Immediately bullets were flooding into the room and Joel shuffled to try to get cover behind a wall. Negan had dropped down at the other end of the containers that Simon had scrambled behind again.

Trying to pop his head out, Joel scoffed when the bullets continued to graze by him. Dropping down onto the ground, Joel clung to the rifle and cussed out loud knowing that there was still too many men for them to take down at once in this situation. They had the upper hand.

Scoping out the warehouse, Joel saw the set of stairs that were at the corner of the room that led to the second floor overlook of the warehouse. That was the only way he knew that would work with him having an advantage in this situation. Stretching his fingers out, he reached for a piece of the debris from the explosion that had made it this far across the building. Tossing it aside, the gunmen shot at the area it landed giving Joel enough time to scramble for the stairs. They shot at him and he managed to reach the steps before he could be shot.

Once he reached the top, he paused to make sure that there was a safe spot for him to settle himself. They hadn’t stopped trying to shoot at Negan who could barely move and Joel knew he needed to do something. Propping himself up, he aimed at one of the men that Simon had brought with him, shooting and hitting the first one in the neck causing the blood to spray from his throat. It was something that usually would have made Joel uncomfortable, but he had to push through the emotions of this whole thing. Killing was never something he wanted to do, but this was a situation that he got stuck in. Taking another shot took another one down leaving Negan room to finally move away from where he was. Once Negan was safe, Joel dropped back down to give himself cover as well.

“Negan!” Simon called out from where he was still hidden. “What the hell are you doing?”

When the shooting stopped, Negan popped out from where he was hidden to shoot at the remainder of the men that were there. With them distracted on Negan, Joel knew that he could pop up again taking out a few more of them. During the process they had noticed that Joel was up on the second level and he had to hide himself. It gave Negan the opportunity to shoot at them. Heading back for the stairs, Joel knew that it would give him the chance to fool them with where he was. They were still shooting at the second level unaware that he had made it back to the first floor.

“Christ! Stop!” Simon screamed out while the bullets continued to be shot back and forth between both sides. Once another one of their men was taken out by Joel and Negan, the remaining three had dropped back. “You two are killing all of my men.”

“Good,” Negan snarled back, pressing forward toward the area they had run off in. It left Joel trying to go off after him, but Negan was already pulling out the handgun that he had, dropping the rifle on the ground. The way he shot the men with ease in the back as they ran away shocked Joel knowing that Negan was an incredible shot.

“Hey!” Simon called out drawing Joel’s attention since he was still partially in the warehouse. Letting out a worried sound, Joel saw Y/N moving into the building and before he could react Simon was scrambling from where he was to move in behind her to wrap her up in his arms from behind making her gasp out. Pointing his rifle out at Simon, Joel made his way back toward the situation seeing that Simon pressed the gun to Y/N’s head. “You step closer and I will blow her brains out all over the place.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Joel questioned with a frustrated glance seeing the fear in Y/N’s eyes while she stared out at him. “You were supposed to stay where you were.”

“I couldn’t let the two of you get hurt,” she answered letting out a wince when Negan had entered the warehouse and lifted his handgun to point it at Simon when he realized what was happening. “Negan.”

“Let her go,” Negan warned getting closer to the three of them that were already in a standoff. “You do something stupid Simon and you’re outnumbered. All of your men are dead. There is nothing you have over the two of us.”

“This is fucking insane,” Simon acknowledged with a bit of a maniacal laugh. Hiding his body behind Y/N’s, Simon was doing his best to keep himself from being shot. Simon’s arm was hooked around her throat, with the gun still pointed at her temple. “All of this over this dumb broad? The both of you?”

“Let her go now!” Joel screamed at Simon, his body shaking from his emotional outburst. Snickering, Simon buried his head against the side of Y/N’s neck. The sensation made her eyes shut tightly in fear.

“You must have a magic pussy or something,” Simon slurred making her let out a disgusted breath when his lips pressed in over the back of her ear. “You have both of these two suckers willing to risk their lives for you. What is it? I’ve known you your whole life and I just don’t see it.”

“You’re disgusting,” she shouted out at Simon trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but his muscular arm wasn’t letting her go anywhere. “I always knew you were a piece of shit.”

“Oh? Did you now?” Simon’s voice raised while pulling her tightly to him. “Do you want a fucking cookie for knowing that? God, you’re so fucking special, aren’t you? Did you think the men who were working for your father were good people?”

“Let her go Simon,” Negan demanded but Simon didn’t listen. It just made Simon smirk and he shook his head. “Why are you doing this Simon? Tell us who hired you and we can work something out with you.”

“Oh, you’re going to work with me?” Simon chuckled with his eyebrows furrowing and Simon nuzzled his nose in the back against Y/N’s neck.

“Do you trust me?” Joel inquired making Y/N’s eyes grow with fear. This was Joel asking Y/N for permission to do something and it made Negan let out a nervous exhale. “Do you trust me?”

“No,” Negan responded with a shake of his head seeing that Joel was lining up a shot. “We don’t trust you.”

“I need to hear it from you,” Joel begged of Y/N knowing that it was only her that could give him the permission to do this. There was doubt in Negan’s face, but she could feel the gun digging in further at her temple.

“I trust you,” she breathed out and a moment later a gun went off making Simon hiss out in agony showing that Joel had hit him. It made Simon release Y/N and Negan scrambled to grab a hold of her so he could push her behind him to protect her. Simon was holding the side of his face, clinging to it while blood seeped through his fingers.

“You shot off part of my ear?” Simon snarled, lifting his fingers to trace over the area that Joel had managed to shoot in order to get Simon to let go of Y/N. Tossing his handgun up, Simon pointed it at Negan. Joel stepped forward to make it clear that he was there with his gun. “Fuck, I understand why you hated the fucking professor.”

“Fuck you,” Joel swore at Simon making Simon laugh and gaze over in his direction. “Tell us what we need to know and I won’t put a bullet in your fucking head. And trust me, with that shiny ass forehead it’s not going to be hard to miss.”

“Oh, look at you. Big and bad. So terrifying you smartass,” Simon chuckled, gazing over to Negan and letting out an exhausted sound. “I can’t believe it got to this.”

“What does that mean?” Joel inquired letting out a groan when a gunshot went off, hitting his left arm. Hitting the ground hard, it felt like the breath left his lungs and Joel immediately clung to his arm. Quickly turning, Negan shot off a few rounds at the person who had obviously shot Joel. Once the sound of a body hitting the ground was heard, Negan turned on his heel and brought the gun back to Simon. Simon had his gun pointed at Joel and he had kicked Joel’s rifle away. “Fuck.”

“That’s what you deserve for shooting part of my ear off you prick,” Simon hissed at Joel who was clinging to his arm while blood seeped through his fingers. When he noticed the fear in Negan’s eyes, Simon chuckled to himself and shook his head. “You really are clinging to these two, aren’t you?”

“Hey,” Negan made sure to keep Y/N behind him to block her so that way Simon couldn’t point his gun at her. “Just tell us what we need to know.”

“Come on Negan, don’t you think it’s about time to give up the gig?” Simon pushed keeping his gun up and pointed at Negan while Negan made sure to push Y/N further behind him. “I think it’s gone on long enough at this point.”

“What are you talking about?” Negan tipped his head to the side noticing out of the corner of his eye that Joel was attempting to slide toward the gun that Y/N had dropped when she entered the building. She had dropped it when Simon had grabbed a hold of her. Trying to keep Simon’s attention he knew that he didn’t want Simon’s gun on either Y/N or Joel. “Stop fucking around Simon!” 

“Don’t play innocent,” Simon snickered looking between both Y/N and Joel who looked confused with his response. “I didn’t think you’d let it get this far. When you came up with the idea for this whole thing, I thought it would be a simple job, but you have dragged this thing out way too far.”

“What?” Negan snarled, his eyebrows furrowing when he shook his head. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“Y/N, this was originally just supposed to be Negan stepping in to be the hero,” Simon clarified, his head nodding slowly when he dramatically wiggled his gun out in the air. “There is no money in that safe. Negan wanted to be your hero to make you fall in love with him. He was so jealous that you had the professor that he tried coming up with a scenario of how to make you fall in love with him. I let him do it because he’s my friend and I thought after the first night it would be over. I didn’t think this would drag on for weeks. We were going to set up the shooting, Negan was meant to kill them and then he would be your knight in shining armor. You deserve to know that Negan isn’t the man that you think he is.”

“Bullshit,” Y/N snapped back at Simon making him look offended when he place his hand in over the center of his chest.

“Why do you think I was so fucking pissed that the hillbilly killed him?” Simon pushed further nodding over toward Bill’s body that was still on the ground. “This was just supposed to be something that Negan and I worked up together. After Negan lost Lucille, he just became so obsessed with the idea of you. You were this sweet, pure little thing and he just wanted you so much. And the professor was getting in the way. Negan is not the man that you think he is. In fact, he’s quite honestly the biggest manipulator I know. Hell, I fell for it too. I wanted my best friend to find love and even though it was a bit extreme, I went through with it. I didn’t think he was going to make a whole fucking action movie out of it. It was when Poppy got killed where I knew I had to straighten this shit up.” 

“Oh fuck you,” Negan snarled once he realized what Simon was trying to hint at. “I would never do something like this you fucking piece of shit. And you know that.”

“Oh?” Simon held his finger up on his free hand digging into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I thought you might pull something like this. So…”

Keeping Y/N safely behind him, Negan felt his whole body tensing up when Simon brought up something on his phone and the audio clip started to play, “I have to figure out a way to get rid of the boyfriend. All the guy fucking does is upset her. But she’s so goddamn in love with him that I don’t know what I could even do. It would have to be something big. Something that was a grand gesture. I wish I could just throw the guy in the fucking river and be done with it.”

A nervous laugh fell from Negan’s throat when he looked back at Y/N seeing her eyes gazing over him and he shook his head, “That’s taken completely out of context. I don’t even know why he recorded that. It was right after Joel asked you for money the first time and I was talking to Simon about it, I don’t…I don’t even know why he recorded that.”

“Negan, she loves you at this point. You got what you wanted,” Simon shoved his phone back into his pocket pointing over at Joel who had started to pull himself up from the ground. “I can tell by the way she ran in here guns blazing. You have both of these two wanting to protect you and keep you safe. You got between her legs, so let’s finish this shit up.”

“Shut up,” Negan screamed at Simon who simply shrugged his shoulders and lowered his gun about. “You don’t know when to stop lying, do you?”

“Do you?” Simon repeated pointing back and forth between Y/N and Joel. “You just can’t stop this whole thing you started. Joel has been shot for fuck’s sake. Poppy is dead. People are fucking dead. Lots of fucking people. And it was all over some girl? This is fucking ridiculous Negan. I helped you set up this building, I picked the men for you to kill to make sure she knew you were the one that loved her the most. What more could you possibly want? This is what you do to your best friend?”

“Negan?” the color drained from Joel’s face while he stared out at Negan who was shaking his head.

“He’s full of shit,” Negan declared shrugging his shoulders. “Why would I do this?”

“Because love makes you do crazy things. Your wife died and you were never able to get over it. I think it drove you kind of crazy friend. And I should have questioned this before you did all of it,” Simon retorted with a wrinkle of his nose making Negan’s face scrunch up in anger. “I’m sorry, it’s just time to be honest about things. Let’s just do what you wanted from the start with Joel. Let’s just kill the son of a bitch and get a move on because this is really fucking with her dad’s run for governor which is fucking with my job. You’re my friend, but enough is enough.”

“You’re trying to fuck with her mind and it’s not going to work,” Negan shook his head, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he felt Y/N’s body moving away from him. Looking back over his shoulder, Negan felt his throat tightening and he let out a tense breath. “You can’t actually believe what he’s saying, do you?”

“Come on Negan. She’s not stupid,” Simon pointed out waving his gun about when he saw her eyes staring Negan over. “How the hell do you think we knew where you were at all times? There was only one constant Y/N. And that’s Negan.”

“The tracker in my necklace,” she blurt out thinking to the tracker that she had destroyed previously from the necklace that her father had given her. “My father gave me a necklace when I was younger that had a tracker in it. That’s how.”

“You think that tracker would work across the fucking country?” Simon scoffed working to make Y/N question that very thing. Negan’s face had gone pale so much that when Y/N looked to him, Simon could tell that Negan was staring to panic. “Honey, Negan has been fucking obsessed with you since Lucille died. It was just supposed to be a show. Hurting people is not something Negan has a problem with doing. You think he just suddenly learned to be a good fighter? The guy was a baseball player and a gym teacher. Yet he can kill people point blank and easy? Were you guys with Negan every time that he called me?”

The look over Joel’s face answered it for Simon and he snapped his fingers showing that he was proving a point, “After the shooting happened at your birthday party, Negan realized that it was pushing you and Joel closer together. We were supposed to stop it, but he couldn’t handle you being with Joel. So he told me to keep things going. Begged me. The country singer was an accident. He had a mind of his own, Poppy wasn’t supposed to happen. That was my mistake not making sure that it was someone who understood better, but this whole thing happened because Negan wanted you for himself.”

“Why are you doing this Simon? You were my friend,” Negan reminded Simon, but it didn’t seem to effect Simon when he simply shrugged his shoulders. 

“How do you think I fucking feel Negan? I am your friend, I got you this job. I didn’t expect you to fall in love with Philip Blake’s daughter. You were just supposed to do your fucking job. I just can’t put up with this any longer. It’s gone on for too long and it’s fucking up my life. I’m sick of it and it needs to stop,” Simon interrupted Negan looking to Joel again who was just standing there staring out at Negan. Both Joel and Y/N were staring out at Negan looking for any kind of proof that this wasn’t true. “Listen, I’ll just kill the professor for you so that way he’s no longer competition for you. Then it can just be the two of you. We’ll clean up this whole mess and pin it on Ezekiel like we originally planned. Then our life can go back to normal.”

“No!” Negan called out seeing Simon lifting the gun to point it at Joel. Right when Simon was about to pull the trigger a shot went off making Simon jolt back. Negan had shot him in the shoulder to stop him from shooting Joel. A furious roar escaped Simon’s throat when he turned away from the group. Waving his hand out, Negan nodded toward the door and cleared his throat. “We need to get you help Joel. Come on, we can grab Simon and bring him with us.”

With a tip of his head, Joel cleared his throat and shook his head. Holding out his hand, Joel motioned Y/N to come to him. It made Negan lower his gun, looking back at Y/N who was staring out at him with big eyes. A shuddering breath fell from Negan’s throat when she moved around him to head over to Joel instead.

“Why isn’t anyone showing up Negan?” Joel wondered making Negan’s jaw flex with tension while he gazed back and forth between Y/N and Joel. “If someone was in charge, they would have shown up by now, right? Why aren’t they?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Negan stepped forward trying to reach out to Y/N, but she stepped back away from him. Joel urged her to get behind him and Negan could feel his heart pounding inside of his chest. “After everything I’ve done…this is how you two respond? Yeah, I didn’t like you at first Joel, but you didn’t like me either. But now? After everything, we’re a fucking trio. Remember? We all protect each other. Do you really believe I let myself get shot? That I allowed myself to get my ass beat so bad that I pissed blood for days?”

“I don’t know what to believe Negan. The person behind everything is your best friend,” Joel reasoned with Negan looking to Simon who was hunched over grabbing his arm. “And you are incredibly good at killing people. Simon isn’t wrong. For someone who claimed to never kill a person before, you do it really well.”

“So are you,” Negan reminded Joel with a shake of his head, lowering his gun when he spoke to the two of them. “I can’t believe this. After everything we’ve been through together, you really believe the shit that he is spewing? There are so many plot holes in his story.”

“Is there?” Joel questioned, his eyebrow arching up in curiosity drawing Negan to let out a hurt sound. “How did he know that we were getting closer after the shooting at her birthday?”

“I called him every fucking time we stopped and you know that,” Negan reasoned with Joel stepping forward. It made Joel raise his gun up further stopping Negan from getting any closer. “Why would I hurt Y/N? I wouldn’t. She was the only reason I was still here. I love her. And I…I thought the two of us…”

“Dear God Negan. You’re sinking the ship in both of them? You fell in love with him too?” Simon shot back at Negan making Negan’s hazel eyes narrow and he raised his gun back at Simon again who stood. “I can’t believe you shot me, for him. Of all fucking people.”

“Just put the gun down Negan so we can figure all of this out,” Joel suggested seeing the way that Negan looked to Y/N. “We’ll take Simon and we can figure things out.”

“You really think I had something to do with this?” Negan begged for an answer from her seeing the confusion that flooded into her features. “Y/N, I love you so much. I promise you, I would never do something like this. I’ve done bad things in my life. I have. You know that. But what I feel for you, I love you so fucking much. I would have died for both you and Joel. Why would I do this to protect the two of you?”

“Because you didn’t want them to find out,” Simon screamed at Negan seeing the way that Y/N was staring out at Negan. “You’re making it more obvious Negan. I knew you were fucking obsessed with her, but the begging. And wanting the professor’s approval too?”

“You’re fucking with the people I care about,” Negan snarled holding his gun up in Simon’s direction making Simon roll his eyes. Stepping forward, Y/N reached out to place her hand in over the side of Negan’s face getting him to look at her with his hazel eyes. “Please…”

“I believe you,” she whispered drawing Negan to loosen up before her. “There is only one person in this world that I’ve counted on my whole life to keep me safe and it’s you.”

“You mean that?” Negan inquired with a small quiver of his bottom lip and she nodded her head, tipping up on her toes to brush a kiss over Negan’s lips. It made him exhale loudly while she stroked over the side of his face. “I promise…”

“I know,” she reached for Negan, leading Negan closer to them. “Simon is trying to fuck with us Joel, but Negan’s not lying. I have never in my life felt safer with someone than I do when I’m with Negan. He just wants to keep us safe.”

“You are such a stupid little girl,” Simon called out from where he was drawing their attention to him from where he was holding his gun. Joel was moving toward them and Simon raised his gun. “This shit would have been so much easier with the professor fucking gone to begin with. If he wasn’t there on your birthday…”

Tossing the gun up, Simon didn’t wait this time. Joel tensed up hearing the gun go off and he gasped when Negan threw himself in front of Joel after shoving Y/N aside. The sound of the gunshot echoed throughout the warehouse when Negan fell forward against Joel. Clinging tightly to Negan, Joel felt his heart racing realizing what happened.

“Ah shit,” Simon snarled when Negan fell to his knees and he realized that Negan had taken the bullet instead of Joel. “You weren’t supposed to do that. You were the only one I wanted to keep alive you idiot. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hey,” Joel clung to Negan, his hand pressing in over Negan’s back feeling the blood that was against his fingertips. Dropping to the ground with Negan’s body, Joel let out a tremoring breath when he realized how much Negan was bleeding. “Negan?”

“Negan,” Y/N called out sliding down in beside them seeing Negan reaching out to her and she grabbed a hold of his hand.

“I made the choice for you,” Negan whimpered causing her chest to ache realizing that Negan was referring to the conversation that they had the day before. “I didn’t do this. I just want to keep you both safe. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, no,” she shook her head motioning to the door. “We need to get him out of here.”

“Come on,” Joel tried to pull Negan up making Negan cry out in pain and he fell back onto the ground. Crawling in beside Negan she pulled him into her arms and she tried to pull him up to the best of her ability. “We have to get you help.”

“I can’t move,” Negan shook his head with broken breaths, his hand lifting to see the blood that was covering his fingertips. There was fear in Negan’s eyes while she pulled him in closer to her chest. Burying his head against the center of her chest Negan winced and she kissed at his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” she shook her head feeling tears swelling at her eyes while Joel sat on his knees beside Negan. “We need to get help. Now. Call someone.”

“No one is calling anyone,” Simon asserted stepping forward raising his gun up seeing that Y/N was pulling Negan in closer to her body to hold him close. In her arms, Negan’s body went limp and Simon sighed loudly. “He wasn’t lying,” Simon informed them with a huff staring down at Negan in her arms. “As much as I love this fucking guy, we needed someone to fall back on and he was the perfect scapegoat. The bodyguard that became obsessed with the woman that he was watching over? It fit him perfectly. He already had pictures up of you at his apartment. I hate that he has to die, but now I guess it makes it easier to sell the story. Not that it’s going to be hard anyways. I mean look at how fast the two of you believed the story I was selling. He gave his all for the both of you and look at what you did to him. You turned your backs on him as soon as you could.”

Lifting his gun up, Simon pointed back and forth between the two of them before finally settling in on Y/N, “I wish you would have just died that first night. It would have made things so much easier. Instead you made this shit so damn hard for me. All of you were such a pain in the ass. Goodbye Y/N. You and Negan can die together.”

Closing her eyes tightly, she heard the sound of a gun going off and let out a shuddering breath when she realized that she wasn’t struck. Opening her eyes, she looked to see that Simon was looking down toward the center of his abdomen where he was bleeding. Looking beside her she saw that Joel had a gun that he had in his hand that he had obviously hidden previously. Dropping his gun, Simon fell backwards and his blood started to pool on the floor.

Motioning Y/N to move, Joel looked over Negan seeing that he was still breathing, but barely, “We need to get him out of here,” Joel announced picking up Negan from the ground in his arms with a roar. Carrying him toward the door, Y/N quickly followed after him only for the lights to go out leaving a small light from only the exit sign flooding the room. A few gunshots went off and Joel cry out followed when the lights came back on Y/N could see that he was on the floor with Negan and Joel got shot in the shoulder on the same side he had got shot in the arm. Scrambling to help them, she didn’t know what to do at this point. “Get out of here!”

Movement was seen in the back of the room and Joel shot off a few shots with his good arm making a body drop to the ground when it was obviously one of Simon’s men that they had missed previously when they entered the building.

“You fuckers,” a slurring sound was heard when Simon started to pull himself up showing the blood that was dripping from his lips. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to die knowing that you both are fucking gone.”

A gunshot went off and Simon fell to the ground in a thud and this time the gunshot was to the head so there was no getting up anymore for Simon. Lifting her eyes, Y/N saw that it was her dad standing behind Simon holding the gun that Negan had dropped.

“Dad?” Y/N muttered seeing the way that her father’s head slowly rose to meet her stare. Getting up from the ground, Y/N scrambled over to her father to wrap her arms tightly around him to hug him. “What are you doing here?”

“I had some men watching Simon because he’s been acting suspicious,” Philip explained hearing Joel wincing out as he pulled himself into a standing position trying to reach for Negan. “They found a paper that Simon wrote information on and I came as fast as I could.”

“I need help,” Joel called out with a desperate sound trying to pick up Negan with all of his might.

“Let’s get all of you guys to the hospital,” Philip suggested moving forward after putting the gun into the back of his pants. Leaning down to try to help Joel pick Negan up, Y/N headed over toward Simon’s body to pick up the gun that was there. “Come on honey, we need to get Negan help.”

Going to move forward, Y/N stopped when she spotted the safe that was still exposed in the wall. Swallowing down hard, she looked to Simon thinking about how he seemed to be waiting for someone the whole time. Stepping toward the safe, she shakily reached her hand out to the dial doing the combination that she had known for so long. Letting curiosity get the best of her, she knew that it should have been the last thing that she did, but she couldn’t help it.

“Come on!” Joel called out looking back over his shoulder seeing her standing at the safe. “What are you doing?”

Putting in the last number, the sound of the safe opening was heard making Joel and Philip both turn to face her while they were holding a limp Negan up by wrapping his arms around their shoulders. Negan was soaked in blood at this point and he should have been her number one priority, but when the safe pulled open she felt her heart sink. A shuddering exhale fell from her throat seeing the stacks of money that were inside of the safe. Involuntarily her body began to tremble and it was followed by a nervous sound from Philip.

“How did you get that open?” Philip inquired with tension in his tone. “It must have been left open.”

“It was your combination dad,” she informed her father swallowing down hard when she turned on her heel to stare out at her father. Uncomfortably Philip laughed. “It was the day you made your first million. I know because I stole mom’s necklace from your safe years ago. I’ve always known your combination. That means this safe is yours. This building is yours. Simon was working for you and waiting for you. You’re the person that put the hit out on me. Your own daughter.”

“Come on,” Philip grumbled staring out at Y/N with a look of disgust plastered over his features. “I’m a lot of things, but you think I would kill my own daughter? It had to be Simon that did it. He knew everything. He had all of my resources!”

“No, he didn’t know the combination. He was waiting on you to show up the whole time,” she snapped at her father making Joel’s gaze switch to Philip who was shifting uncomfortably at the other side of Negan. “Simon had no idea. Not once did he trash your name. It was you that he was working for.”

“Hell,” Philip scoffed pulling out his gun making Y/N gasp out when Philip shot Joel in the leg. Immediately Joel dropped to the ground with Negan falling in over him. Sounds of agony filled the air when Philip marched forward and Y/N attempted to lift the gun, but Philip swung the gun out hitting her in the face with an incredible amount of power knocking her to the ground. “Simon wasn’t wrong. You are an incredibly stupid little girl. How you have my blood running through your veins and you are like this is beyond me.”

Crying out, she pulled her hands away from her face to see that her nose was bleeding and there was an incredible amount of heat flooding her face. Slamming the door shut on the safe, Philip growled out and tossed his hands up in the air.

“You had to let your curiosity ruin everything. If you would have just kept your fucking mouth shut, we could be on our way to the hospital and both men in your life would be okay,” Philip alerted her waving the gun about in the air. “Instead you have to do what you do best and fuck shit up. It’s what you were always good at.”

“Why?” she pulled herself up into a seated position bracing her back against the containers that were behind her.

“Why not?” Philip responded, kneeling down before his daughter making her look up at him with big eyes. “You are a fuck up Y/N. I’m running for governor and honestly? I’ve never really liked you all that much. It wasn’t that hard of a thing to come up with. A tragedy often sways the public vote toward someone who lost everything. If you died, it was guaranteed that I would win hands down. Especially now that the news channel is suggesting that Ezekiel had something to do with that. But see, the media is easily corruptible. You hand them some money and they are eager to do whatever you tell them. Money fucking talks sweetheart. It’s what keeps me going. I need to win. You know that I’m projected to go all the way to the white house if I get elected as governor. I have this happen, Ezekiel loses by large amounts and I don’t have to worry about the wrong media focusing on the fact that I’m not a family man because I kicked my troublesome daughter out of my life.”

“All so you can win governor?” she blurt out feeling the world spinning around her while her father stared out at her with his intense blue eyes. “I lost my best friend because of this.”

“Poppy was never supposed to die. You were. Then Joel, Poppy and Negan had to get in the fucking way,” Philip snarled down at her, throwing his finger up toward Joel and Negan. “If you would have just died that night at the party, Poppy would still be alive. Negan and Joel wouldn’t be bleeding out.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” she whimpered seeing Phillip think about it before nodding.

“I am, you’re not wrong about that,” Philip shrugged letting out a tense sound as he stayed knelt before her. “Listen, we have two options here. Either I take Simon’s gun and I shoot you with it myself before killing both Joel and Negan or you take option two. And option two is very nice if you ask me. Option two is we pin everything on Simon. I allow you to keep one of the men in your life and the three of us walk away from this being able to live another day.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped at her father making him sigh out when he stood up from where he was to head over toward Negan and Joel. “Leave them alone.”

“You’re going to have to make a choice kiddo. Negan is still breathing. I see it. But barely,” Philip informed her swirling his finger over Negan. Blood was surrounding the floor around both Joel and Negan. At this point she wasn’t sure what belonged to who. “If we forget this whole thing happened, I’ll let you pick one to keep alive. If you want to pick Negan, I would suggest you do it fast though because he looks like he is bleeding out. Joel is slowly working his way there.”

“You want to just forget this whole thing happened?” she hissed out, pulling herself up into a standing position. Philip simply nodded, his eyes staring out at her when she cleared her throat.

“I’ll give you and whoever you pick all the money your heart desires. Just to disappear. You stick around long enough for the media and when it’s over you can leave. It will make sense because the media will play it like you had to get away from the catastrophic event that almost killed you and killed two of your friends,” Philip went off pointing the gun between Negan and Joel. “So pick!”

“Money doesn’t fix everything,” she stammered lifting her hand to reveal that she had Simon’s gun. Philip laughed when he saw it. “Money won’t make me a monster like you.”

“You’re going to shoot me?” Philip stepped forward, his eyes narrowing at his daughter when he stepped before her. When she didn’t pull the trigger, Philip wrapped his finger around the back of her neck and forced her forward. “Money can make anyone do anything. I fucking promise you. Watch…”

Snapping his fingers, Philip managed to get Joel to stare out at him from where he had propped himself against the wall. There was anger in his eyes while Philip pushed Y/N before Joel, “Joel Miller, if you shoot my daughter, I will give you two million dollars. I’ll fund your business, make sure your daughter and your brother get the best of the best. We will pin everything on Simon and Negan. Use the same story that Simon told you earlier.”

A shuddering exhale fell from Joel’s throat and Y/N felt her stomach sinking, “Joel?”

“See here is the thing honey. Money is more important than you. Money has always been the most important thing in the world. Money is what made this son of a bitch fuck with you in the first place,” Philip squeezed his fingers at the base of her throat making her whimper while Joel stared up at them with his intense brown eyes. “In fact, let me explain to you how important money is. When your mother left, it took her a year to settle her shit. To get help with the alcoholism, to get her own home…and then she came back for you. I offered her money to leave and never look back. And she took it. Your own mother picked a life of luxury and money instead of choosing you. I don’t care if you think Joel loves you, no one is going to turn down the kind of life that I can promise them. Well, no one other than you. And maybe Negan, but he’s not really in a position to be making decisions now, is he?”

Wincing out, she felt her father’s fingers digging tightly into her flesh, “So what do you say Mr. Miller? Do the kill shot and I’ll give you everything you ever dreamt of.”

Joel’s eyebrows twisted with tension, he was sweating and the color drained from his face. After a moment, he nodded his head making Y/N let out a whimpering breath, “Joel?”

“A man with common sense,” Philip motioned Joel to stand watching as Joel shakily pulled himself up and braced his weight on his good leg. Handing over the gun to Joel, Y/N cried out when Philip pushed her before Joel. “Come on Joel, one right between the eyes and your life gets incredibly better. You can start over new with your family.”

“Joel, please…” she begged seeing Joel lining up the gun, his dark eyes narrowing while the gun shook in his hands. “Joel…”

“You’re going to learn a lesson before you die sweetheart and that’s money is more important than you will ever…” Philip began letting out a wail when Joel swiftly turned the gun shooting Philip in the shoulder making him fall back onto the ground in a thud. Sliding back on the ground, Philip scrambled for the gun that he had gotten Y/N to drop pointing it out at Joel who stepped in front of Y/N to keep her safe. “I just offered you everything. What is wrong with you? I offered you your life back. And then some.”

“Some things are more important than money,” Joel declared with a shake of his head looking back at Y/N with a firm nod.

“I will destroy you. No one is going to believe what happened here today. They are going to…” Philip paused when he heard his voice echoing and he looked over his shoulder to see that Bill was standing behind him holding his cell phone out to show that his speech was being streamed onto one of the most popular news channels.

“I think it’s time to stop Mr. Blake,” Bill explained, tearing at the shirt that he was wearing to reveal that he was wearing a bulletproof vest. The bullet that Simon had shot him with had hit him so firmly that it had knocked him unconscious from the pain that it caused. “We weren’t the only ones here today. There was one more. And when you started talking about why you did everything, he started streaming out your confession to all the major news channels. Everyone knows what you’ve done now. Everyone. See, I came in here earlier today and disguised myself as an electrician. Said the powerlines went down and I made sure that I linked all of the cameras in here to my own personal computers. So you’re wrong. Everyone is going to believe what happened here today because they heard it from your own mouth.”

“You son of a bitch,” Philip raised his gun at Bill in attempts to shoot him, but Joel shot off once more hitting Philip in the hand making him drop the gun to the ground with a pained wail. Dropping out onto his back, Philip smiled and shook his head slowly. “You must feel big Joel Miller. Bringing down the man that ruined your life. Might as well take your final shot.”

“And make life easy for you by killing you?” Joel snarled, his dark eyes narrowing when he let out a tense exhale. Tossing the gun aside, Joel shook his head and glared down at the man who had done nothing but made his life hell. “I want you to be around to experience everything that is going to happen to you Philip. You’re not escaping this one…”

Sirens filled the air when the lights from the police cars pulling into the lot of the warehouse were heard making the color drain completely from Philip’s features. Shaking his head, Joel turned on his heel and reached down to grab a tight hold of Negan. Pulling him up in his arms, it took everything inside of him to get Negan up as he headed for the door limping.

Giving her father one final glance, she felt the police moving in around her and when they forced her father face forward against the ground, she shook her head and followed Joel out. Chasing to catch up with him, she knew that she wanted to be with Negan.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, please help him,” Joel explained with a weak exhale when he finally got Negan to the ambulance that was there. They grabbed a hold of Negan and put him onto a stretcher. Once they had Negan, Joel dropped down himself and felt himself being caught by Y/N who lowered down to the ground with him. Lifting his eyes, Joel stared out at Y/N letting out a tense sound. “You’re free from him now. You’re safe.”

There were tears in her eyes when she nodded and he reached out to stroke his fingers in over the side of her face, “If something happens to me, please take care of Sarah.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” she hushed him looking to see that his leg was bleeding badly as well. The paramedic reached for Joel pulling him from her arms making her let out a shuddering breath when she looked down at her hands to see they were covered in blood. It was undoubtedly mixed from both Joel and Negan.

“We need to get them to the hospital,” they informed her and she stood up to her feet approaching the ambulance.

“I need to go with them,” she asserted and they allowed her to get into the passenger seat. Once inside the ambulance, all she could focus on was the sounds of the paramedics in the back trying to help both Negan and Joel. By the sounds of what they were saying it didn’t sound good for either one of them. Nothing else mattered to her after tonight. Not her father. Not her father’s money. All that she prayed for was that both Joel and Negan would be okay. They just had to be. Or else this would have been for nothing.

[darling-i-read-it]

Would you be willing to maybe write Giles headcanons from btvs. Like about his love languages and how it would go? Much love 💕! Please and thank you ☺️.

angel? spike? no. giles. it'll always be giles. (ps thank you for this request im knee deep in watching buffy so this is on my mind lots)

this is love language headcanons or alternatively: different scenarios in giles house. (gentle warning for some insinuating jokes lol)

acts of service

Giles appreciates when other people do things without him having to ask. He's very used to be in charge and likes that position; it makes him feel important

but goddamnit it sure would be nice for someone else to shoulder the weight. it would be double nice if it was someone other than buffy who also never gets a damn break.

it also doesn't have to be big things. Setting the tea bags out for him, buying the kind he likes when he's low.

Bringing him books you think he'll like or putting away the ones he had left out.

This also goes for things like helping research or helping Buffy if she needs it. A lot of his life is surrounding helping her so if you help as well it takes some of the pressure of his shoulders.

Giles ran his hand through his hair as he left the bedroom. You had stayed over the night before but weren't in bed when his alarm clock went off. He looked around the corner, seeing only himself in the mirror coming down the stairs. He wanted to call out your name but didn't, out of sheer exhaustion.

When he emerged into the living room he could hear you. You were in the kitchen, gently humming to yourself. His eyes opened wide, the sleep leaving them, when he saw you.

"Mornin sleepy head. You forget to turn your alarm off?" He gave you a confused look. "It's a holiday today. No school." He looked back up the stairs, trying to find what day it was in his head.

"Why are you awake then?"

"Couldn't sleep." His eyes drifted down to your hands. You were making breakfast. You had pancakes on the counter already made. Bacon was sizzling.

"Breakfast?"

"Figured it was the least I could do. You were so generous last night," you teased. He smiled, shaking his head.

"This..this is a lot of bacon." There was a whole stack already made.

"I figured your scoobies were going to be stopping by sometime this morning with a problem. Don't want them to starve." His eyes floated to your face with the most adoring look. You met his gaze. "You okay?"

"I love you. I love you so much."

quality time

Giles doesn't have a lot of free time, at least not in the first few seasons. He was technically always running around and doing something with the library or with Buffy or with the council. Constantly stuck within a losing battle of his free time and his sanity.

Spending all the time he could with those he loves and appreciates is important to him. He attempts to make time.

It's just...not easy.

It isn't actually his fault necessarily but yeah...he can barely finish a book for pleasure.

But when he has that time he does not like to waste it.

"I've taken the phone off the hook," Giles announced. You looked up from the couch where you were sitting. He looked quite proud. "Buffy is patrolling with Angel. She'll be safe for the night."

"You don't have to convince me," you told him.

"I know. I was convincing me." You gave him a sly smile. He sat down beside you. He had a stack of books in front of him on the coffee table. You were cuddled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket and a mug. "Has your tea gone cold?"

You shook your head, no.

"Good." He picked up the stack of books and rested them on his lap. You watched him with big heart eyes. He was about to talk about something he was extremely passionate about. You were excited to listen.

"Which one are you going to read to me tonight Rupert?"

"I have options."

"Naturally."

physical touch

we all saw the episode where they reverted to their teenage selves

growing up, Giles had the tendency to be handsy in relationships. That wasn't something that exactly faded away as he grew older, he just became slightly better at hiding it

It was something you were surprised about when you started a relationship with him but it was something that was simple to ease into. It became natural fast

He likes to have his hands on you whenever you're alone. the whole time. all the time.

in public he's okay, he's sophisticated, he's borderline shy/timid. He does not want to traumatize the children he is constantly around. Even when Xander makes joke after joke after joke after jo-

Will pull you aside privately if he feels the need to though. Stern talking to. You look too good. That's literally not his fault.

but ALONEEEEEE

"Rupert," you muttered. He had his arm wrapped around you tightly from behind as you sat on the couch. He had his book up but was holding it with one hand. Everytime he turned the page he would set the book down and turn it so he didn't have to take his hand off you.

"Yes?" he questioned. You looked up at him. You sat between his legs, your back flush with his chest.

"I need to go to the bathroom," you said. He raised his eyebrows, floating his gaze back to his book.

"Can it wait?" You laughed.

"No." He let out a hearty sigh as though you had just told him grave news.

He moved his arm off you so you could get up.

"Hurry back," he said. You smiled, face scrunching. The warmth in your chest expanded out towards to your face as you walked away.

"I'm hurrying."

[gregrulzok]

What are your top 10 favorite media, like from books, anime/manga, movies, tv series, etc (if you feel like listing multiple) of all time? Feel free if you want to write the reasons or not of why you love them....

Now THIIIIS is way different from asking me my favourite characters.

When it comes to characters, I tend to be heavily analytical and critical. When it comes to media... Well, you'll see. Whatever the case please note that these pieces of media being my favourite doesn't mean I necessarily recommend them. There's things I love with my whole heart that I wouldn't inflict upon my mortal enemy. You've been warned.

I'm also purposefully omitting some of my favourite pieces of media to shine a spotlight on ones I don't really get to talk about, or just want more people to know about (sorry, Berserk)

I'll try and keep these ones spoiler free, since I'm thinking of them more as recommendations! NSFW media will be marked with a *, but I won't go into anything explicit here. Please look up media mindfully and with discression, some of these may be triggering.

Thank you for the ask and I'm sorry for the ridiculous lengths of information you're about to witness !

Dungeon Meshi

Lets start with a safe one. A simple one. An expected one.

Yes, Dungeon Meshi IS that good.

Dungeon Meshi is a beautifully drawn manga that starts out slow, whimsical and almost slice-of-life-y, and then descents into utter madness so slowly and skillfully that by the time you blink you're in another dimension.

The world building in this series is second to none - everything makes sense and nothing is handwaved. The genuine and honest passion in the way the world feels alive is palpable, and despite its realism it never loses its magical feeling.

The characters are charming, lovable, realistic, and complex. Each of them have an inner world to tap into, each of them feels like a real person you could hold a conversation with and would WANT to hold a conversation with. Here I'll also proudly announce that we get zero (0) gratuitous fanservice, zero (0) characters who exist as a punchline, and guaranteed Sexy-Lamp Free !

The plot... Fuck, man. The plot is the most honest and bare faced look at some of the most nuanced subjects in the world (desire, ambition, love, death, survival, trauma, neurodivergence) wrapped up in a way that feels simple, grounded and real.

It also sincerely began to heal my relationship with food. I don't think I've ever seen the subjects of cooking, eating, health, weight and body diversity portrayed so well in such an empathetic, understanding and caring way in any piece of media. Body positivity is not so much a focus, but rather an undercurrent in the whole manga.

Whew ! With one objectively good piece of media out of the way, let's move on to something more unhinged, such as ...

Honestly I can't begin to imagine what kind of person WOULDN'T enjoy Dungeon Meshi. Do yourself a favour and read it.

Cats (1998)

Cats. The Broadway musical cats. One of the longest running musicals in the world, award winning, famously bashed and hated, recently revorked into a horrible film that was even more bashed and hated, the beautiful, glorious wonderful disaster of my heart - Cats.

Specifically, the 1998 film version.

...It's so hard for me to explain this one.

At some point, while watching Cats for the second time (for a reason I cannot explain), some neurons fired the wrong direction in my brain and now I have a pathological obsession, to the point where I can name each and every single Godforsaken cat in this show, including the ones that don't even appear in the credits.

Cats. What am I even supposed to say here, like, genuinely. It's cats.

Well, here's the thing - the choreography and acting direction in this fucking musical is genuinely breathtaking. It takes a few watches for it to fully click, but once it does, I sincerely believe that Cats is one of the most endlessly fascinating pieces of media to analyze. What you have to understand about Cats is that every single character (with very few exceptions) is on screen basically for the entire show. And so while you're watching the dancing in the foreground (which is beautiful on its own), every single cat in the background is just ... There. Moving, interacting, portraying characteristics that are never stated, never so much as focused on - but you can see them. You can see the kittens playing with each-other, you can see the elders gossiping, you can see small bits and gags you won't catch your first time, or second, or fifth. You can see how rowdy Tumblebrutus and Pouncival are, you can see how excitable Electra is, you can see the quiet dignity of Coricopat and Tantomile, the friendship between Jellylorum and Jennyanydots. There's always new little bits of background characterisation you can catch, pretty much regardless of how many times you've seen it.

In that way, Cats is feels the most alive, the most ever changing and evolving. I'm completely enraptured by it and if you do want to watch it, I recommend watching it as many times as you can stomach, because your first time through it'll glide right off you like water off a duck.

Chainsaw Man (Public Safety Arc)*

The first time I finished reading Chainsaw Man, I stared at my phone for a straight minute, then started sobbing. The next morning, I drank alcohol for the first time.

I wish that was a joke.

I'll admit I'm not up to date on the second arc of Chainsaw Man - it honestly got away from me a little and I'm not entirely sure I'll be finishing it.

But that doesn't take away from the fact that the first arc is one of the most tightly written, beautiful, emotional stories I've ever read.

Sure, it's fun and funny. Sure, it's cool in it's action scenes. Sure, the art direction is absolutely breathtaking. Sure, the character design and worldbuilding are interesting and detailed.

But at its heart the core appeal of CSM, to me, is the way it speaks about trauma, abuse, assault, isolation, fear, and desire. Chainsaw Man is painfully down to earth in a gritty, real way, and while it is extremely dark, it's also uplifting and hopefull in a way a lot of dark media isn't.

Chainsaw Man makes you feel tiny, helpless in a massive world. Chainsaw Man puts you up against horrors both tangible and fantastical, and then it looks you in the eyes and says "Hey. You aren't weak. You aren't useless. The world is scary, the world is cruel, the world is harsh, but that doesn't mean you can't fight it. That doesn't mean there isn't hope".

I really don't know how else to describe it without going into spoilers. It's genuinely moving.

Arcane

Arcane is a beautiful tragedy that has no right being as impactful as it is for being a goddamn League of Legends adaptation, of all things.

The art direction in Arcane is absolutely insane - Taking a page from Into the SpiderVerse (which is another favourite of mine), it blends 3D animation with a 2D-esque art style and fully 2D effects to bring what I genuinely believe to be one of the best looking shows in the world to life. And that's not all !

Arcane is infinitely nuanced. Between it's multiple plots it introduces many, many characters, all of whom have their own wants, needs, goals, ambitions, fears, flaws and trauma, and it clashes them together beautifully. Nothing in Arcane feels like an afterthought to me, I think the most fantastic thing about it is how expertly it weaves all these different storylines together. Everything ties into something else, everything affects something else, the story changes based on every little movement of our main characters and by the time it unfolds you realize that there's nothing that could really be done to change it because EVERYTHING lead to this.

It's a tragedy in the best way possible.

Attack on Titan

I don't care what anyone says - Attack on Titan is one of the best Anime ever put on screen.

I am a person that grew up in a colonized, war-torn country. Part of our land is still occupied, and our occupants are currently seeking refuge in our city and acting like this is their vacation resort. My people have been marginalized, demonized, dismissed, our culture has been erased and we have been fed more propaganda than I can count.

And I say this because I think being in this situation lends me a pretty good perspective of what AoT is:

Propaganda. The first two seasons of Attack on Titan are literally an extended propaganda film, meant to trick and decieve the viewer into siding with the protagonists, and dismissing their enemies as mere monsters.

If I go any deeper into that statement, there will inevitably be spoilers, so I'll cap it off with this:

There are no easy answers in war. There are no heroes and no villains, there are no good guys and bad guys, and there are no winners. There is only deception, control, and death.

I've never seen a piece of fiction capture the true, real horror of war quite as well as Attack on Titan does.

Death Parade

Everybodyyyyyyy put your hands upppppp

Death Parade is the show I go to rewatch when I have nothing else to rewatch.

It is a soft, yet painful look at human nature. It's an exploration of what makes a person good or bad, and whether such things even exist. It brings into question the very nature of humanity, whether there's such a thing as being good or bad, whether our character is formed by our circumstances or our behaviour, and how those things should be judged. It asks what it means to have emotions, to have feelings, and how your own personal emotions and biased factor into how you assess other people - whether it's more unfair to judge someone objectively without empathy, or subjectively with your own narrow, biased worldview.

All of that wrapped in a beautiful aesthetic, and a somber, subtle love story. Not even necessarily a romantic one - just pure love.

Highly, highly recommend.

Oyasumi Punpun*

Oyasumi Punpun is the most direct, honest, unfiltered, unbiased look at a human being's psyche I've ever seen.

It's also one of the most triggering bits of media on here, so proceed with caution.

Oyasumi Punpun follows the life of a single boy from his childhood, through his adulthood. Every single hardship, every single setback, every victory, every memorable experience, is shown to us through the lense of his own eyes. His childhood innocence, his teenage cynicism, his adolescent hopelessness, his own naivete, his own trauma, his own biased colour the way we view the world around him.

It genuinely makes you feel like you are wearing his skin and living his life through him.

Its disturbing, uncomfortable, dark, scary, and it's funny, hopeful, and just plain bizarre.

Great Pretender

Alright, back to light-hearted things !!!

Great Pretender might be the funniest show I've ever seen, to me, personally. Its bright, saturated, expressive animation compliments the absolute insanity of this show perfectly.

The most basic premise is that Great Pretender is about two con artists desperately trying to out-con each-other, and then it all goes downhill from there. It sets up so much of its payoff in such tiny little ways that by the time I got to the end I'd be beating myself up for missing a completely innocuous detail like a characters fucking watch, because it was actually a hint towards the overall plotline.

Its clever, it's funny, it keeps you on your toes, and it can be genuinely heartfelt and delightfully homoerotic to boot !!

It's absolutely worth the watch. Please give us season two. Please. PLEASE.

Dark Heaven*

Dark Heaven is what I'd recommend to someone if they told me they liked reading BL.

As a gay man in an interracial relationship, I've yet to find a piece of media that is quite so open direct, brutal and honest about the kids of issues that gay people, people of color, and people in interracial relationships can face.

To that end - it's extremely triggering if you're sensitive to those particular topics, as well as some other things. I'd very much recommend looking up a list of triggers first if you want to read it because it does get very, very dark. (And very NSFW). (Right from chapter one)?

But yeah - Dark Heaven is a beautiful, engaging, and at times very fluffy and humorous romance between two men, that is heavily overlaid with real actual issues people face every day (and some people don't face every day, but are nonetheless very real). It's honest, soft, and uplifting where it needs to be, despite not sugarcoating absolutely anything. It also does us the wonderful favour of not fetishizing gay men, not playing into weird creepy stereotypes, and not turning their relationship into something to gawk at.

And now, the one, the only, the piece of media that captured my heart and soul and will never ever let go:

Warrior Cats

Fucking Warrior Cats.

I have read every single book in the series. The series with over 100 books (depending on how you count them). Every official piece of media, I have consumed.

I've been reading this book series since I was 11. I've loved, cherished, lived and breathed it. I keep up with them to this day. I recently completed a chronological re-read. I've made OCs. I've roleplayed it in person and online - in fact I've been a mod in a DeviantArt roleplay group.

I HAVE A GODDAMN EXCELL SPREADSHEET WHERE I ANALYZE THE STATISTICS OF THE WARRIOR CATS NAMING SYSTEM

"Oh wow, sounds like the series is really good" WRONG

Warrior Cats is one of the worst written series I've ever read. It's poorly paced, it's full of plotholes, most characters are pieces of cardboard with a furry coat. It's dumb, nonsensical, inconsistent, and infuriating. It preaches the worst lessons I've ever heard, it's full of nothing but wasted potential, and I could honestly count the number of books I'd consider to be genuinely good on both of my hands.

Out of a 100. I've read a fucking hundred of these. Send help.

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I read them?

Because I'm autistic and my brain is holding me hostage.

Against my better judgement, I have such a deep and genuine love for this series, for the characters, for the content mostly created by the fans, for the world building.

And every single time one of these fucking cats dies, I end up tearing up.

I love Warrior Cats and you can pry it from my cold, dead hands.

...

And that's IT !!!

Thank you again for the ask, and thanks if you read it this far !! You can really tell which ones of these I'm currently hyperfixated on haha.

Again please practice discression in looking these up - I have absolutely no triggers, and so don't think twice about consuming really dark and heavy pieces of media. This is also why I didn't just opt to put in my own trigger warnings - because I don't know everything that could be potentially triggering, and I don't want to give off the impression that you know everything you need to, in case i missed anything.

Be careful and be safe !

[curious-zigzagoon]

I want to know you. Pt. 1

Simon Riley x gender neutral reader

I’m doing it guys I hope you enjoy.

Summary: you and Simon get to spend a lot of alone time together thanks to work. It doesn’t go quite how you were expecting.

Warnings: none

Your code name is Fennec (like the fox)

Uhh yeah here it is :) (also first part is short still testing the waters with this whole posting my writing thing) not perfect but please enjoy.<3

“You and ghost have been tasked with scoping out an area that has a high profile target residing in it. In your free time you and ghost will be staying at a small and old safe house. You will be there for approximately three weeks.” Price announced with a small grin on his face. He knows me and ghost aren’t necessarily the best of friends. “When are we leaving?” I asked. “Tomorrow 8am.”Price said, Ghost nodded. I looked at the time at the clock behind Price, it was 6:47 pm. “Okay well I better start packing.” I stood from my chair and excused myself from the room. Well isn’t this amazing. I was thinking on my way back to my room. Just fucking amazing.

And just like that we were on our way to somewhere in Mexico. I spent a lot of time in awkward silence both on the plane and during our first few hours at the safe house. It was great. The grump had barely said anything to me at all this whole time, which is what I expected. I don’t think he’s ever really liked me that much. At least it feels nothing like how he is with soap. But soap is well soap it’s pretty easy to get along with him.

I was making some dinner for me and Ghost, beef and rice with steamed broccoli. Very bland. I was just about to plate the food when I felt a looming presence behind me. The ghost is very quiet but I know he’s there. “Do you need something Ghost?” He’s been quite cold to me, I tried to be nice for a while but I can play this game if that’s what he wants. “You can call me Simon now.” I turned around. He’s corrected me every time I’ve called him Simon and he’s never called me anything other than fennec even in non-strictly work settings. So this is strange. “Where is this coming from?” He was very close to me, I was almost backed against the counter. “Can I be honest with you Y/n?” Y/n? “Yes?” He came closer and I placed my hands on the counter behind me. He was so large, his figure was intimidating and this unusual behavior made me nervous. “I want you, I have for a while now.” Want me? Seriously. “You’ve been so cold to me Ghost, what are you talking about?” He sighed. “I’m sorry for my behavior, I’ve been trying to keep my distance from you, I don’t think I’m the kind of person you’d want to have relations with. But for some reason I felt the need to tell you” “I think that’s something I can decide for myself, and how am I supposed to decide that if you won’t let me get to know you?” He stood silently for a moment, he looked to the floor then back to me. “I will let you get to know me, but only if you let me have you. I don’t trust people so easily but I want to be around you.” “Okay well, Ghost I will not give myself to someone I hardly know.” He looked disappointed, and I’m sure me calling him ghost after he gave me permission to call him Simon stung. “I understand.” I thought for a moment “But it will just be you and me here for the next three weeks, and if you let me get to know you in that time I will consider it.” His eyes lit up a bit. “Okay.” Maybe he’s worth knowing is all that came to mind. I'm unsure of how this will end, but I wanna know.

[recoveringradqueerhub]

Cw cult related topic

I understand what you mean with the cult thing, but I assume you just had a different experience then. I've been in an organised cult and disorganised cult before, and to me radqueer feels the same as the disorganised one. There was always the "if you don't like it, leave" said but they never *actually* let you leave is the thing, not safely at least. Organised cult won't say that at all, they'll tell you directly that you need to stay with them. But disorganised ones will tell you that you can leave, but that's after telling you no one else will take you in, they're the only people you can trust, outside the cult is dangerous, etc. So while they say you can leave, they don't mean it and if you leave they send people after you. Same as the radqueer community. You're told you can leave but they've told you all this stuff to make you stay because you're unsafe anywhere else and if you dare actually leave they will make sure you're unsafe anywhere else.

I am a survivor of a disorganized cult yes, and I still don’t believe rq is a cult. A common thing in Radqueer (from personal experience) is that they, don’t care if you’re apart of their beliefs. And I’m saying this as a person who was really into the community for awhile.

And talking to Radqueers, interacting with them, I came to a conclusion, one that I still hold.

Most Radqueers aren’t even apart of the community, because there hardly is one.

Upon leaving the community, they couldn’t fucking care less about me “leaving the community”, they only cared about me “Becoming an asshole.”

It’s more like an abusive family then a cult, Radqueer does not use legitimate cult tactics, it’s mostly children, it’s horribly disorganized, they do literally nothing about people “leaving”.

A common thing that RQ did was: “People everywhere love and except you, it’s just how the world is.” (Most) Radqueers don’t say that all antis are necessarily bad, just “misunderstood”, they don’t make attempts to isolate people.

Another thing: Radqueer itself is not a cult, but it has immense potential to be the cause of a cult, smaller groups within the community are far more isolated and cultish.

Also, keep in mind that: (again, most) Radqueers don’t really care about “gray areas”, blankqueers and neutrals and stuff like that.

Something is allowed to have cult-tactics and cult behaviors without being a cult.

I mean I literally just saw a post going on complaining about how a individual inside of the community was tired of the community, and announced they were leaving, most Radqueers just kinda congratulated them and parted ways, as long as you still hold some/most RQ beliefs you don’t even need to be Radqueer.

[sophierequests]

heyy!! maybe something angsty/fluffy with Tamar?? hope you have a great day

falling apart without you

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Tamar Kir-Bataar x f!Reader

A/N: Tamar, my wife <333 This is my first Tamar fic and I am so happy that somebody requested it! I love her sm. Thank you for the request and have a great day too! Also, I used that Khergud attack scene from King of Scars and changed it, so there will be timeline inconsistencies.

Summary: Tamar isn't afraid of anything. But what if the people she actually cares about get hurt?

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Blood, wounds, bullets, death

“Scared?” the sudden appearance of Tamar’s voice right behind you startled you a bit.

You didn’t turn around, eyes still fixed on the menacing darkness that seemed to be a hundred miles away, yet so close. From where you stood, you had a more or less pleasant view of the looming Fold draped over a vast desolate mass of land. Just the thought of having to cross it again made your stomach drop. Behind you stood the cathedral of Adena, its glorious golden domes striking a huge contrast to whatever was expecting you out on the void of the Unsea. Your party was standing close to the entrance of the church, slowly preparing to return to where you were supposed to stay the night. Even though you had nothing to be afraid of yet, you couldn’t stifle the uneasy feeling settling on your shoulders

And apparently, Tamar seemed to notice your beginning anxiety, as she had quietly split up from the rest of the group to talk to you. She was one of your closest friends since you had joined Sturmhond’s crew, and remained in her position after you decided to join Nikolai in his advance against the Darkling. When Nikolai announced that you would be joining his little travel party to Adena, Tamar was more than against that, but she was just as aware that there was nothing she could do to keep you away - safe. You thought it to be almost endearing how she cared for your well-being, however, she didn’t quite like your readiness to get into dangerous situations like these.

What you didn’t know was, that under her supposed platonic worry lingered a different emotion. You had stopped being just a friend to her a long time ago, but she pushed these thoughts away. Love in the middle of a war is a fool’s game, and Tamar wasn’t willing to risk it.

“A little.” you broke the silence, turning your head only slightly to look at her - now standing next to you, “You?”

There was no actual need to ask that question. You knew her answer already. Tamar was never scared. Not of anyone or anything. It was one of the things you admired and hated simultaneously. You would never come even close to her level of fearlessness, not even if you tried. However, the recklessness that came with it managed to drive you mad sometimes.

“Never.” she smiled faintly, looking strained after the already lengthy journey, “There’s no reason to be afraid, Y/N. Right now, we’re still safe. And when it comes down to it, you’ll still have me to protect you. And Tolya - of course.”

You had to chuckle at that statement. Of course, the twins would be the first ones to keep the party safe. Even though you weren’t sure if that’s necessarily what she meant by saying ‘you’.

“I never doubted your willingness to fight, Tamar.” you replied, “And the willingness of your brother - of course.”

You both looked at each other, an amused grin on your faces. It could be difficult finding humour in times like these, so you appreciated it even more when you did. If you could've stayed in this moment forever, you wouldn't mind it.

However, the low metallic whirring of hummingbird-like wings caused your heart to stand still. Before anyone could even utter a word, you knew immediately what was going to happen.

"Y/N, Tamar! Get down!" Nikolai screamed, followed by Tolya having to yank him back.

Tamar and you whipped your heads around, only to be met with a horrible discovery. The previously blue sky was now littered with sickly-looking winged soldiers, that were set on killing you. The jittery noise their wings made echoed in your head like a diabolical rhythm.

"Khergud." Tamar whispered, pulling out the axe that was hoisted on her belt.

She advanced toward Nikolai and her brother, trying her best to not get grabbed by the attacking soldiers. You followed swiftly after her, your mind racing, as you thought about what to do next. They had already smelled that you and the twins were Grisha, hence why they were mainly trying to focus on the three of you.

With a strong sense of determination, you called for your power, almost instantly feeling the familiar warmth pulse through your body. In a matter of split seconds, you managed to call a burst of fire from the candles at the cathedral's entrance, managing to set two of the creatures aflame. You weren't aware of their ability to speak, so you could only feel shock shoot through you, when you heard the inhuman screech they let out as they went down.

Sadly, this didn't do much. There were just too many to fight at once. When you sent another wave of flames towards them, you couldn't even see whether you were able to hit some of them before a bullet met your side, and you violently got yanked off of your feet and pulled up in the air. One of these bloody creatures had caught you. The grip of its sharp fingers squeezed your arms, drawing blood at the spots where the foul nails met your flesh. If you screamed you didn't know it, the sudden change in events knocking out every ounce of air that had filled your lungs before.

"Y/N!" Tamar called out, an unintelligible mass of voices droning behind her.

The rest of the fight was a blur. You heard gunshots, shouts, the clanking of metal against metal, and most terrifying of all, the horrible sounds the Khergud made when they went down - either to die or to attack. You saw a metallic net being thrown over Tamar and Tolya, pinning them down and ultimately restricting their hand movement. From the corner of your eye, you saw Nikolai trying his best to fight against them. The vicious clutch your attacker had on your arms made you slip in and out of consciousness, the blood dripping from your wounds staining your clothes. The last thing you knew, was its hold on you loosening, and both of your bodies sinking towards the dirty ground. Then you blacked out.

Everything around them was chaos. Some of the Khergud had crashed into the church, destroying some of the walls and windows. The twins had finally managed to get rid of the net that had bound them down so that they were able to aid Nikolai in taking down the last soldiers that were close to the ground before a handful of them managed to escape through the air. He took a glimpse at his team - his friends - and shuddered when he found Tamar's eyes, looking absolutely horrified. You weren't with them.

"Tamar, where is Y/N?" he asked sternly, feeling his heart racing at the thought of having to bury another one of his friends.

But she didn't answer. Instead, she dashed towards a pile of rubble and bodies that lay close to one of the broken-down cathedral domes. She recognized the distinct silver bracelet she had gifted you once without a hint of doubt. It was a pretty gruesome scene, that she was faced with. Your body laid next to the corpse of your assailant - if that's what you could call a lifeless Khergud - and you were littered with bruises and scratches. One of its metal wings was cutting into the flesh of your hip, forcefully tearing up your clothes. After taking in what she had just witnessed, she instantly bent down to you, her shaky hands carefully prying the wings from you. When she noticed the bullet wound she had to fight the urge to vomit, but she pushed down the feeling of nausea, determined to not let you slip away. She had seen worse, but not on people she cares about.

Nikolai and Tolya walked up behind her, cringing after seeing what she was hovering over. Without saying a word, she allowed herself to listen to your heartbeat. For the first time without your permission. Her call was met with deafening silence.

Her hands flew to your body, trying desperately to shake you awake, even though she was perfectly aware that it wouldn't work. Tolya took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and mimicking the procedure his sister had done only seconds earlier. Nikolai knelt down next to Tamar, trying to calm her down - without much success. They both stopped when Tolya gasped, his eyes fluttering open as moved his hands upwards, bringing them down on your chest quickly.

"There's a heartbeat." he breathed out, repeating the procedure again.

"But- but she had none, when I-" Tamar stammered, her hands visibly shaking.

"It's faint. Very faint. But it's there." Tolya muttered, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, "We need to get her back as soon as possible. I'll carry her, and you try to keep her heart stable."

"I can't." she blurted out, her eyes not moving from your form, "I don't think that I'll be able to keep her heart beating. Let me carry her."

"Tamar, your hands are shaking, I don't think that would-" Nikolai suggested, a hand still resting on her shoulder.

"Alright. Let's go." Tolya interjected, letting his gaze fly over his sister one more time before she nodded and pulled you up in her arms.

You expected to wake up buried beneath the rubble - or even to not wake up at all. But when you pried open your eyes, your gaze was fixed on a wooden ceiling. Your body felt heavy, and every single minuscule movement made you regret it immediately after. The smell of burnt firewood, freshly brewed Suutei tsai and incense lay thickly in the air around you. You had no idea where exactly you are, as the memories of the attack started to steadily catch up to you.

Where were the others?

The question hit you like a brick. You didn’t remember whether they were able to make it out alive. Against all your logical thoughts telling you not to, you tried to set up straight. And you regretted it straight away. The wounds you had acquired yesterday reminded you of their presence as a sharp jolt of pain flashed through you. You hid the pain as best as you could, the sense of worry stronger than your discomfort.

However, you managed to calm down slightly, when you saw Tolya snooze in the chair close to your bed. His usually neat ponytail was dishevelled, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in a proper bed in ages. You were safe. At least one of your friends was safe. You were alive and semi-well. Everything was alright.

Your needy breathing seemed to have pulled him from his slumber. He blinked multiple times as if he didn’t want to believe that it was you who sat there. You flashed him a tired smile, trying your best to not wince while your whole body ached.

“Saints, Y/N, we really thought you were a goner.” he uttered, standing up and moving towards your bed, “You’re not allowed to scare us like that ever again, or else I might have to bring back Tamar from the dead too.”

“You had to bring me back from the dead?” you asked, the colour draining from your face.

He paused, his face pulled into an uncomfortable grimace.

“Yes, when we brought you back here, your heart stopped. I thought Nikolai and Tamar would join you right then and there. We managed to bring you back though, so congratulations on your first near-death experience.” he chuckled awkwardly.

“Thank you…and sorry for that.” you added, knowing that it must’ve been quite straining to bring you back from the dead, “How are the others? Are they hurt?”

“They are mainly fine. Nikolai only has to deal with a few cuts and bruises, so he’ll be fine. Tamar also wasn’t hurt that badly, but if she was, I wouldn’t have the pleasure to know.” he grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Why?” you inquired worriedly since the twins usually were closer than anyone else you knew.

“She was in shock after finding you. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen her that afraid. She only went to bed a few hours ago, after I basically had to drag her out of her. Otherwise, she would’ve stayed until exhaustion took her.”

You shook your head, not being able to hide the faint blush that sneaked on your face. Tolya threw you an amused glance, seemingly aware of the tension between the two of you.

“Do you want me to get her? I don’t think that she was able to sleep for that long. Maybe you should have a little talk.” he mused, grinning contently.

“Only if she’s actually awake.”

He nodded, leaving the room swiftly as he went to look for his sister.

You didn’t even have to wait long until a familiar set of footsteps came rushing towards your room. The door flew open again, this time revealing an utterly distressed Tamar. Her mood lightened when she saw you smiling back at her. You expected her to say something, but she only strode to your bed, leaning down to engulf you in a comforting hug. She was careful to not touch your bandaged wounds - even though you didn’t think that you would’ve cared. The comfort of her embrace soothed you greatly.

“Don’t ever do that again.” she mumbled into the crook of your neck.

“I wasn’t planning on repeating that anytime soon.” you giggled softly.

“You have no clue how afraid I was. I really thought that I would never see you again. Alive at least.”

“I thought you’d never be scared of anything?” you responded only half-jokingly.

She took a brief pause, shuffling a bit further away from you to look at you properly for the first time. Her eyes were a bit puffy, and she looked as tired as ever. Your hand absent-mindedly moved forward to cup her cheeks in an attempt to reassure her of your presence. You were here. You were alive. This gesture was something completely new, and both of you knew that the feeling that settled between you was far from platonic.

And as if it had been a natural reaction, you pulled her closer to you, your lips connecting in an instant. Your heart took a leap as you felt the very much-needed sensation of her lips against yours. It felt like this situation had always been bound to happen, no one wanting to be the first to pull away, in fear of having this moment end.

“There’s only one thing that I’m scared of. And that is losing you.”

[todourouki]

↲ Back to my BNHA Masterlist

i crash, u crash.

SUMMARY: Being with Dabi wasn’t easy and it probably never will be, but he just wants to make sure you’ll stick around. Or in which Dabi tries his best to show you he cares about you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: based off i crash, u crash by lil peep! lol honestly idk about this one. but welcome back gift for me, from me, to you <3

PAIRING: Boyfriend!Dabi & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,476

WARNINGS: Explicit Content, Dabi is toxic, Angst*, NSFW [18+] including spitting, slight daddy kink, squirting, slight overstimulation.

© todourouki

Sex with Dabi was always the same.

Routinely speaking, whenever he was back from a mission was the time you were expected to be on all fours waiting for his attention. It was always rough too, nothing short of angry and aggressive even if it was a form of “love-making.” He could call it what he wanted to though, he knew the universal term for his type of sex was simply fucking.

The positions and their timings were always on schedule. No more than 3 minutes in missionary— all the time in the world doing everything else. You never really got to touch him, and he’s never let you see his face when he came.

The relationship of hot and fiery sex mixed with an unrequited form of codependency grew to an actual romantic one somehow between the days and nights spent together, yet nothing of the dynamic ever changed. The only thing you could recall is that he groggily asked of you to “finally be his girlfriend since you already acted like it.”

Dabi was a complicated person. You never knew if he planned on waking up and deciding he wanted to be single, and honestly the day he decided to do such a thing wouldn’t be a surprise to you. He was an avid participator in the league of breaking hearts and even if you had more than enough knowledge on this, you allowed his sneaky smirk to seduce you into the sheets of his bed and hours of his days.

You eventually found yourself moving in, figuring out that he refused to sleep without the air conditioner on, never wore socks around the house, used way too much salt on his eggs, and never managed to close the curtains after he got out the shower. Above all that though, he never changed the way he fucked you.

Dabi loves you, of course you never had to question it or get reassurance. He showed you in minuscule ways such as stealing bringing you your favorite snacks after a long day without you, doing things such as buying double of what he gets from store runs because you’re in his mind all day, and telling you he’ll be safe for you once he walks out the door. He never says I love you, but he doesn’t need to.

It’s hard to get someone like him to change the way they are, so when you’re sitting on your shared bed flipping through a magazine and see a couples quiz linger across the page, you can’t help but try to feed yourself crumbs of his affection you know you’ll spend a lifetime searching for.

“How long did it take for you to realize you like me?” You broke the silence, squinting at the duo-skin toned man slouched across the wooden headboard.

You heard him chuckle, blinking longly at you with amusement glimmering within his cerulean irises. It wasn’t rare for Dabi to mock you for asking such a thing, but it was a rare moment for you to glare at him deadpanned and genuinely waiting for an answer. It fucking confused him.

“As long as it took you to make me cum the first time.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment enough to make him furrow his eyebrows. It wasn’t like you to not retaliate back, you were always quick to snap back at him. Hearing nothing but his own breathing as you skipped through pages made him furrow his eyebrows. He wanted to ask if you were okay— he really did, but then you’d think he cared.

And Dabi would be a terrible person if he let you know he cared.

The silence was nearly overbearing, nearly deafening in his ears as he tried his hardest to focus on anything but your serious expression haunting him in the back of his mind. Things like this rarely bothered him. It goes to say that Dabi was rarely ever bothered.

Sure, you never asked for much reassurance and never even did as much as ask if he meant it when he asked you out mid-nap, but he really did. Sure, you lived off the whim of thinking it was, but at least the raven haired man knew it was. Right?

The sound of the magazine slamming shut and getting thrown somewhere onto the bed broke Dabi of his thoughts. “I’m gonna’ pee.” You announced, mostly to no one in particular because your soft eyes refused to meet his own. Another rare occurrence.

You lied to Dabi for the first time in your life. Did you really have to pee? Of course not. Did you have to cry in the bathroom for a quick 2 seconds to release the pent up frustration of utter confusion? Of course you did. It was annoying— living with someone and only getting treated as if you were anything in the slightest to him when his dick was inside of you. He only ever fucks you rough and never lets you see his face, and he expects you to believe he wants to be with you?

After cleaning your solemn face from dry tears, your body grudgingly made its way out the bathroom and to the bed. Your presence within the studio was clear, panties strewn across the open drawers mixed with Dabi’s briefs, shoes tucked neatly compared to Dabi’s boots tossed lazily near the door, and perfume bottles layering up against the old brown dresser. You took a quick glance at a picture of you hanging on the wall, a familiar raven-headed man’s arms wrapped around your head as he towered over your frame with his head resting across your head.

It was never worth the confusion.

“Why were you crying?” His dark voice rang out, making you slightly flinch as you dented the soft mattress with your frame.

A quick shake of the head will do, you thought to yourself as you followed your own orders. You knew Dabi wouldn’t push to find out what was wrong, he never does. And he doesn’t, lips shut as he takes a drag from some cigarette he’s smoking and giving you a longing look of aggravation. It’s even less of a surprise for him to do such a thing.

“If you have something to tell me, then I suggest you do it.” If you hadn’t known Dabi for as long as you do, you’d probably assume he was being condescending and outright rude. Because you do know him though, you know that’s exactly how he’s trying to come off to you.

You dreaded it. The eventual confrontation that was inevitable from the moment you accepted to be his girlfriend— it all led to this moment in space and time. You felt exactly how you predicted you’d feel, sick and intimidated. Not necessarily by Dabi because you know he’d never hurt you, but intimidated by the fact that it’s as easy as 1-2-3 for him to up and leave depending on your answer.

“What are we, Dabi?” And there it goes, 1-2-3.

It was like hearing a pin drop. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody did anything for the first three seconds following the ultimatum. He knew he had two options: answer genuinely and reveal information he’d die before releasing, or leave you high and dry yet again for his own benefit when it comes to the mere idea of using words he doesn’t use in bed.

Staring into your eyes never scared him, he cremating people for a living, but knowing that lying behind them were tears falling for your reflection rather than on his shoulder caused a pang to hit his chest. It was unfamiliar and unusual, but looking at your body begin to leave its space in the bed in frustration with his quietness made him snap. You were serious for the first time.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Your words were harsh, harsher than usual and you yourself couldn’t even tell where this newfound energy came from.

You were okay. You were okay with whatever this complicated situationship was, and you probably would have still been okay with it if you hadn’t gotten too deep in over your head and let his words get to you. Him saying he realized he liked you coincidentally while you fucked should be above you, yet here you are.

“Jesus doll, relax.” He taunted, hands reaching out to grab your arm in a fit of confusion and annoyance, “just come back to bed Y/N.”

You felt it - the minute he touched your arm and released the tiniest bit of heat coming off his palm - just how tense he was becoming. He knew once you put your mind to something, it was difficult to get you to move away from it. He knew that there was no escaping this conversation.

It was inevitable really, the fact that one day (which was, unfortunately for him, today) you would question the legitimacy of his emotions for you. You were carefree just like him, that’s why he fell for you. But you were also blunt. If you felt a way, you were going to say it and that’s that.

Easily, the scarred hand gripping onto your arm slid over to your clenched jaw. You didn’t mean to give him a hard time for not looking his way—with the way his fingers squeezed deep into your skin and tilted your head towards him, you knew you did. It almost repulsed you with how obedient your body was to his touch, glancing at him with no shame other than the dried tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m gonna tell you the one time and I’ll never repeat myself,” he threatened, voice treading amongst angry waters as his blue eyes bored into yours, “I’m serious.”

You stood your ground, eyes taking away from your scowling expression as they swirled in curiosity. It didn’t take much to make you lower your frame onto the edge of the bed, a sigh escaping your lips as you pulled the t-shirt past your exposed panties.

“I don’t say much when it comes to you, or even to when it’s about you—but you’re all I am.” Your eyebrows furrowed, clear confusion written in your face.

“What does tha—” “I’m talking.” Dabi’s aggravated expression never left, not even with the joint hoisted between his lips in nothing but frustration.

“I got nothing to give you, nothing but collected calls from jail and maybe some jewelry I stole cause I got bored. I don’t have any money, anything to my name, and nothing but a spot on the police and hero department’s most wanted list.” His words made you frown, the clear self-depreciation outweighing the cocky and arrogant attitude you once knew to belong to the man infront of you.

“I can’t look you in the eye, show you my face when you milk my cock clean— can’t do shit like that,” Dabi’s smirk was quick to appear, your eyes rolling as you met his serious gaze yet again, “probably won’t be able to take you out the country either unless we run far, far away from here.”

“But nothing I say or do will ever express the way I feel about you.” And now it’s Dabi’s turn for the 1-2-3 process, because that statement in itself made your brain stop working.

Your brain couldn’t comprehend the fact that Dabi’s free hand was circling your bare thigh, moving closer and closer to where he most felt at home. His words never faltered though, only slightly pausing to smoothly slip his hands onto the soaked folds of pink lace.

His words were thrown against empty ears. You couldn’t focus on the words flowing within the room due to the ever-growing heartbeat pulsing between your thighs. Dabi’s hand sank into your leg, heat splitting between your skin enough to hiss and throw your head back.

“From this perfect pussy,” he applied pressure to the space between your legs, the wet patch inducing a smile from his once blank expesssion. The sudden contact caused a gasp to slip from your panting lips. Almost instinctively, Dabi pressed his thumb against your tongue, “to this smart ass mouth, it’s all I need to wake up in the morning.”

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi's heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he's ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who's life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen burn bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi's harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

"You're gonna get tired of me one day," he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, "you're gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own."

He wanted to think he wouldn't care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn't do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he's ever known in his life for as long as he'd live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

"Hey," you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

"You crash, I crash. Always."

Your words hit him, and boy did they hit Dabi hard. The time it took for the word always to softly slip off your tongue was just enough time for Dabi to realize the depth of your words.

They were the same ones that fell between your lips when he thought he was dying, when you thought you were dying, and now. Dabi was complex - that was evident - but he was also the simplest man you knew. All he ever really needed was some reassurance.

It was long before his fingers found their way into your scalp, slipping over the crevices of your neck and gripping onto the back of your head as if his life depended on it. All you could do was gasp.

"Can I touch you?" The words were like a record scratch, repeating through the scarred man's brain all too much to keep anyone sane.

He couldn't tell if it was the slur of your words, or if it was your soft hands running across his thick shoulders as the words whispered into his ears— whatever it was made him take up the obligation of doing anything and everything you said.

It wasn't soon before you found yourself slamming your lips against his, the sensation causing you both to moan. You couldn't tell the difference between his hands and yours, tangled limbs falling deep into the plush comforter covering your shared bed. His weight above you did nothing but encourage you to wrap your bare limbs against his now shirtless one on, hands running through the raven locks above your head.

The minute you felt the heated pads of his fingertips lower themselves down your abdomen, your head shook underneath his and caused him to part his lips from its home on yours.

"Hmph," you groaned, pouting as your hands traveled down to his jeans and began to fiddle with the zipper, "I want to feel you in me now."

Dabi was used to being in control. He was used to ordering your body around, telling you what to do and how to do it. In the bedroom, Dabi made the orders. So when he parted his lips from yours and stood over your body with his scarred hands shoving his pants down his thighs, you couldn't do anything less than moan. Knowing he was taking what you said into consideration brought chills to your skin.

"You sure you're ready for this, sweetheart?" He smirked, legs coming out of the restricting jeans he wore and leaving his tall and lean frame in nothing but gray briefs.

Dabi had a lot to brag about, in the most respectful way possible.

Your hands clawed at his waistband, giggling as you pulled his body all the way back to its original position of resting above you and let the underwear go with a loud smack. Being eye to eye with someone like Dabi was scary, no point in denying that. Her there was something about it that just drove the two of you insane— and he couldn't tell if I was anything short of love.

He silenced himself, attaching his lips to yours and preoccupying a hand into pulling his briefs down just enough. And by just enough, it meant just enough to brush your clothed clit as his painfully hard cock stretched up to his stomach. You couldn’t do anything but flinch, hands reaching out to grip his thick girth and slap it across your clothed pussy.

“Let me do it.” You smiled, eyes boring into Dabi’s own blue ones. Your free hand slipped your panties to the side, his mushroom tip dancing against the rim of your wet hole and causing the two of you to release a soft groan into one another’s face.

If there was one thing Dabi would never get tired of, it would be the feeling of your velvet walls sucking his dick closer into you. Nothing short of sensation hit him the minute your hands shoved the head in, and his almost fell inlove with the view of you watching his large length disappear into your own heaven.

It was hard for you to not cum from his entrance. Even as he bottomed out, your teeth sealing a scream from leaving your throat by pressing into his shoulder, did you realize just how big Dabi was. No matter how skinny, lean, and weightless he seemed, the girth and length on Dabi’s third leg when he was stuffing himself into you never failed to surprise you. Even through the self-inflicted pain of going into this without foreplay, you knew there was nothing that would ever fill you up as amazing as Dabi does.

“Fuuuck,” you dragged out into his earlobe, tongue licking a strip of his patched skin from your bite-mark to the lobe of his pierced ears, “you’re so big.”

He couldn’t help but whimper (another thing on Dabi’s list or shit he doesn’t do but now does because of you), the feeling of your tongue circling his ear as your pussy gripped onto his fleeting cock nearly felt like too much. It didn’t help that you were moaning and whispering in his ear with nothing but pure sex laced in your words.

“You know,” he breathed out, beginning to create a routine with his hips bottoming harshly into your cervix and slowly dragging out in a timely fashion, “this is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

He thinks it’s a compliment, but really it stirs awake the competitive bone in your body. You ignore it though like you always do, choosing to appreciate the fact that he considers you the best at atleast something.

His hand gripped onto your neck, bringing neon stars and dots of blackness to conceal your view of cerulean eyes. Nothing but the lewd sounds of Dabi pushing his dick into your wet hole filled the room, sprinkles of your whimpers and his groans mixing amongst the darkness of the apartment.

Dabi was trouble. He never felt in control of his feelings, never knew what he would want in life, and never bothered to consider living for someone other than himself. It’s moments like these with you though, that makes him realize the God he wakes up thinking about rests between the gap in the middle of your heavenly thighs. He’d killed people before, but the power you held over him was enough to make him consider killing everyone on earth if you’d ask.

You felt him begin to grow impatient, hips pounding into your frame and causing your body to jolt up and down harshly. Words couldn’t describe how amazing Dabi felt inside of you right now. His tip crushed your cervix within every thrust, and it was Dabi’s fingers that lifted your gaping face from the trance of watching him fuck into you to his own face.

“I-I cant.” You began to slip out, tears growing against your eyes as Dabi’s hot fingers began to flick your swollen clit. You swear it’s only been like ten minutes, or maybe Dabi’s huge dick pushing against your cervix was beginning to fuck you stupid. “You’re gonna’ make me cum— make me cum too fast daddy.” You cried out, fingers dragging against the stapled back as you felt Dabi purposely drag one of the piercings located on his tip across your pulsating velvet walls. It was almost too good to be true, and you couldn’t help yourself from kicking his waist over you and forcing his body underneath you. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wipe the smirk off his sweating face.

“Get to work, doll.”

You knew why he spoke to you with such condensation. You also knew exactly why his hands pressed into your ass cheeks as you found your home on top of his bare lap. His scarred torso leaned against the black bed frame, and you decided right then and there that Dabi deserved to get his brains fucked out. So you did exactly what he told you to do— you got to work.

You were wet enough to take him some more, knees straining as you finally pushed his length deep into your stomach. The silent scream that left your lips didn’t go unnoticed though, your fingers that now gripped his cheeks pressing between his lips to keep his teasing menstruations to himself. Dabi’s eyes couldn’t come off your body, and honestly he wished they never had to.

Keeping a grip on your stomach and your ass cheek, an enflamed slap brought a powerful burn across your ass cheek and caused you to jolt against his penis.

“Jesus Dabi, a-are you trying to kill me?” You weakly pleaded, and it didn’t take long for your fucked our expression to start slurring your words.

The sound of you dropping your frame onto his body filled the room, your hips rolling against your clothed clit and bringing sensation you weren’t sure if you could handle. You were trying to focus, but the feeling of Dabi heating a hand up across your ass and slowly beginning to meet your thrusts caused your brain to jumble into a mess of nothing but him.

“Fuck, baby you look so good when you start to get stupid.” He smirked, lips running against the cleavage of your bouncing breasts and lazily sucking on the moving nipple in front of him.

You wanted to fight back, and you wanted to defend yourself against him thinking you we’re starting to get stupid. You really wanted to— the only issue being that you couldn’t. You couldn’t the minute Dabi found a way to meet your thrusts and roughly tilt your neck back up towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Was all you could cry out as you began to grow impatient in your lower abdomen. It just felt too good. And as if to add injury to insult, your walls began to clamp up from the feeling you knew was coming soon. Dabi paid the price.

You’d never seen his eyes get this wide, eyebrows furrowed as his mouth gaped open in shock. His eyes found its way down, the sight of your pussy gripping and swallowing his dick back in and out being something he wishes he could see all day and that’s when Dabi realizes that he is inlove with everything about you.

“It’s like your perfect pussy was made for me, baby.” He whimpered out, smirking between hooded eyes as he struggled to regain some of his consciousness. You were way too good at bouncing on his dick, and he couldn’t help but begin to meet your thrusts with more precision as he felt himself near orgasm.

“A-all for you! Always all- always all for you daddy!” You cried out, voice struggling to come out as you threw your hands against Dabi’s chest and began to bounce as if your life depends on it.

You hate doing all the work, honestly you really do dislike it. But this has been the longest Dabi has allowed you to ride him and the feeling of you literally milking his cock at your own disposal was an offer too good to ruin.

“I know it’s all for me, princess.” He whimpered out, a hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling it low enough to slam your chapped lips against his own. “Wanna know something, baby?”

The words vibrating against your own moans got lost in the sound, your headboard forcibly slamming against the wall only louder as every other thrust from you gradually grew rougher with your urge to cum. Your brain couldn’t do anything less than feverishly nod, hands slipping back onto your body and allowing Dabi to drill into you from underneath. Gasps slipped out of your parted lips with a hand gripping his black hair and the other begging to rub your own clit.

“You crash, I crash forever, right baby?” He moaned out, the words entering your ears and making you cry out with tears finally spilling down your eyes from nothing but intense pleasure.

“Fuck yes daddy, forever!” You cried out, body beginning to hunch over as you felt the pressure in your stomach compared to the way Dabi slammed into you become too much.

“Good, doll,” he moaned, pushing you so far into him, the heartbeat in your pussy was sure to be vibrating onto the veins of his dick, “so do me a favor.”

Everything happened much too fast, your dizzy state only increasing as Dabi grabbed your body harshly and tossed you back underneath him. There you were again, tossed carelessly under him with your legs trembling and pussy stuffed with all of Dabi in his glory. His lips found our ear again, licking your lobe and sucking on it right after.

“Cream all over my cock so I can stuff you up with my kids, deal?” He smirked into you, jolting into you as soon as the last word resonated on all ears.

Soon enough, he found it in himself to thrust into you like never before. You could barely breath, gasping for air as you felt your vagina began to vibrate due to stage of pleasure you were in. And just like that, your body began to run from the overstimulation of Dabi’s hot finger rubbing roughly against your clit as he drills your frame into the crevices of your mattress.

“Da-daddy I’m gonna’....” The words just couldn’t come out— he was begging to fuck you dumb.

You couldn’t feel nothing but Dabi’s dick pound into you, and if this was all you felt before you fell into a sex-coma than fuck it. It will forever and always be worth it.

It was like you were starting to see white. The feeling of one of his hands now roughly gripping your drooling expression closer to his face made you scream in pleasure, Dabi’s smirk leaving only to release a trail of saliva from his throat into the back of yours. You swallowed it with no hesitation, some of the residue slipping through your lips in a mix with your own spit as you began to drool at the feeling of his tip hitting that one spot over and over again.

And that’s when you felt it. You felt the build up, the pressure of holding back becoming too much as you belted into a mess of tears and tried to push his body off your own.

“No baby,” he roughly said, milking his cock into you even harder and rubbing pressured circles into your clit until a strong snapped within you and you saw nothing but white.

You weren’t sure if it was a sub-space you had entered, or some fucked up version of heaven people who just for their brains fucked out go, but either option felt like fair-game the minute your pussy began to squirt a mess of cum and other liquids from the space Dabi still found himself intruding. If anything boosted his confidence, it was this right here.

“Fuck yes baby, squirt for daddy,” he smirked, rubbing you harder and harder as your felt your body stiffen at the overstimulation, “fuck, you’re so hot.”

As soon as you, Dabi found himself cumming harder than he ever had, lips only being able to cry out a mantra of your name. He knew sex with you was amazing— but this was a new high he doesn’t think he’d ever went to let go of. He didn’t even have the energy to lift himself out of you, small drips of cum able to slip out of your swollen pussy making you flinch in both overstimulation and pain. The cockwarming brought chills to your arm, body sprawled underneath Dabi’s panting frame in nothing but a fucked our expression.

You felt him lift his head up, eyes glancing over your puffy closed ones and being able to do nothing more than steal a kiss from your tongue-licked lips. He knows the difference between “fucked-out” you and “genuinely-knocked-out” you, and you knew he knew the difference too. But he acted as if he didn’t.

And before Dabi could pass out on top of your sweaty and sticky frame, words he mumbled into your shoulder nearly burned into your skin. At least, just enough to make your pussy and lips twitch in nothing but contentness.

I crash, you crash. Forever and always.

Sex with Dabi was always the same— sure. It was rough, messy, and painfully over-stimulating, but it was Dabi, and it was more than enough for you.

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi’s heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he’s ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who’s life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi’s harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

“You’re gonna get tired of me one day,” he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, “you’re gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own.”

He wanted to think he wouldn’t care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn’t do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he’s ever known in his life for as long as he’d live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

“Hey,” you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

“You crash, I crash. Always.”

[enamouredfae]

♡ Pick a Card ♡

What does the person you have in mind think about you!

This is a short and sweet pick a card where I look to tell you how the person occupying your thoughts thinks about you. These can be things they want to say, but feel they can't; the feelings they have for you, the fears and the longings that have to do with you; perceptions of you, etc. This can be a specific person you know or someone you will meet in the future, it can even be a part of you. You can ask about your future spouse, love of your life, twin flame, soulmate, ex, friend, inner child, past self, etc.

Before picking a card ask and meditate on:

"What does [person] think about me?"

then intuitively pick the pile(s).

Disclaimer: I want to remind you that most of the messages are very open to interpretation, and the first "clear" meaning of the message isn't necessarily the right one for you. For example, "i know nothing about you" could mean that they don't recognize you anymore or that you don't share enough information about yourself, but it could also mean that this person is a stranger to you atm. Pick up on the nuance that feels right to you. If you feel like a card isn't accurate or does not resonate, you are most likely right. Don't take the reading as fact. Trust your intuition, and do tell me in the feedback the parts that feel right and the ones that feel wrong, I'd love to hear different interpretations on messages too!

This reading is for entertainment purposes only.

This is a timeless reading for the collective, therefore it is likely that some messages will not resonate with you. Please only take the messages that do! The messages that do not, are meant for somebody else. Remember that the future is never set in stone and that you possess free will! Love you! ♡

Pile 1 ✧ Leaf

leaving, fall, falling in love, drifting through life, lack of control, being pushed around, recipient, yin, withering away, slowly dying, depressed, walked over, easy-going.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

Who are you thinking about?

introvert | same age | taller | whip | book | 11 | 26 | 2 | 8

they could be someone you had an argument with or an argumentative person in general, intelligent, secretive, they may have a higher education and be seen as an expert in their field, there may be a power imbalance, dominant, disciplinary, manipulative, you may have written in your journal about them, there may be a secret involved in this connection, using sexuality as a tool of persuasion, coercion into kink/sexual situations, knowledgeable in sex, secret sexual relationship, you may learn a lot from them, they could be a teacher, sexy, they could be abusive please be careful, you may not know them yet or they could be hidden from you atm, thoughtful, critical.

8 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 26th or the 8th. themes of the 8th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 8th house or Scorpio placements. you may have significant 8th house synastry.

11 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 11th. themes of the 11th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 11th house or Aquarius placements. you may have significant 11th house synastry.

2 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 2nd. themes of the 2nd house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 2nd house or Taurus placements. you may have significant 2nd house synastry.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

What do they think about you?

"i wish you tried harder."

"you've outgrown me."

"right person, wrong time."

"your expectations are too high."

"is it because i remind you of them?"

"you didn't seem interested."

Pile 2 ✧ Key

key to one's heart, locked away, hidden, protected, only few can open, key tattoo, looking through the keyhole, looking withing, treasure, opening up to the world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

Who are you thinking about?

ambivert | gray or blue eyes | younger | stars | moon | 16 | 32 | 7 | 5

divinely guided and blessed union, synchronicities are prevalent with this connection, feeling like the universe participated in you finding each other because of how unlikely or based on luck it feels, wish fulfillment, dreaming of/about each other, knowing immediately, being a muse, somebody well-liked in their job, popular, you may meet at night, you may know them from work or meet them on vacation, manifesting a person, feeling like a blessing to someone, hopeful, visionary, aquarius/cancer and/or 4th/11th house placements, 4th/11th house synastry, they may have a hidden side, famous, dream come true.

7 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 7th or the 16th. themes of the 7th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 7th house or Libra placements. you may have significant 7th house synastry.

5 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 5th. themes of the 5th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 5th house or Leo placements. you may have significant 5th house synastry.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

What do they think about you?

"i find pieces of you everywhere i look."

"our love is what movies, books, and songs are written about."

"please start putting yourself first."

"i don't know if i want to be near you, or to be you."

"i play the song that reminds me of you."

"i'm manifesting you."

Pile 3 ✧ Fleur de Lys / Lily

french, royal, pure, faithful, gardner, gold, feeling reborn, motherhood, 100 years of love, fertility, strong morals, growth, in bloom, spring/summer/fall, not a cat person.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

Who are you thinking about?

different ethnicity/nationality | blonde | tattoos and/or piercings | man | lily | 28 | 30 | 10 | 1 | 3

they may identify as male, or embody a lot of masculine/yang energy, they may be older than you, very peaceful, you may feel like you can tell them any secret because they are very discreet, they may feel or describe themselves as a "grandpa/grandma" or dress like one, they may be very mature, they might've had to grow up fast, they can feel very serene and like a safe space, they could be the "calm" friend that you just recharge with, enjoying each other's company in silence, they may remind you of your grandpa/grandma, they may be a mentor, they may often talk out of experience or randomly say something very wise.

1 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 28th, the 10th, or the 1st. themes of the 1st/10th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 1st/10th house or Aries/Capricorn placements. you may have significant 1st/10th house synastry.

3 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 30th or the 3rd. themes of the 3rd house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 3rd house or Gemini placements. you may have significant 3rd house synastry. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

What do they think about you?

"i'm scared of being vulnerable."

"i don't feel the same way you do."

"if we're lucky."

"i always check your horoscope too."

"you're romanticizing toxic things."

"you're my safe space."

Pile 4 ✧ Knot

balanced, harmonious, interconnected, interlaced fingers, hair knots, sacred geometry, synchronicity, self-sufficient, symmetry lover, 444, four-leaf clover.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

Who are you thinking about?

green or hazel eyes | older | colourful hair | rider | child | 1 | 13 | 4

they may be a mailman or a delivery person, incredible conversations that can change your perspective on things, immature, naive, happy inner child, enjoys simple things, young, may be a student atm or when you meet, appears into your life with a new beginning, or causes a new beginning, they may be a very trusting person, could literally be a child (under 18), could come with huge announcement, constantly changing, unpredictable, hyper, could have a child together, may have met them during some sort of visit, helping them grow, may see you as a child, trustworthy.

1 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 1st. themes of the 1st house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 1st house or Aries placements. you may have significant 1st house synastry.

4 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 13th or the 4th. themes of the 4th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 4th house or Cancer placements. you may have significant 4th house synastry.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

What do they think about you?

"i know nothing about you."

"i want us to grow old together."

"cupid ran out of arrows when it came to us."

" i still think about you, i can't let you go."

"i'm obsessed with you and it's not pretty."

"i write you in my daydreams."

Pile 5 ✧ Fork

forks from twilight, great cook, picky eater, a pick-me-up, eating with a specific fork, collecting forks, separation, falling/sliding through the cracks, bifurcation, neptune.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

Who are you thinking about?

brunette | straight or wavy hair | extrovert | woman | dog | 29 | 18 | 11 | 2 | 9

they may identify as female, or embody a lot of feminine/yin energy, friendship, loyal, dependable and helpful, humble, "bitch", may be very compassionate but also may be inclined to pitying people, may be a person who is blindly loyal to people that do not deserve their loyalty and love, "we accept the love we think we deserve", very giving and loves giving, golden retriever as a person, supportive, could be codependent, animal lover, a person in your friend group, or any group you belong in, wants to receive love, but even when they don't, they still give the other person their all, requires a lot of attention, athletic, active, optimistic, feels the need to help and people please because they feel like that's the only way they'll deserve love.

11 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 29th or the 11th. themes of the 11th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 11th house or Aquarius placements. you may have significant 11th house synastry.

2 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 2nd. themes of the 2nd house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 2nd house or Taurus placements. you may have significant 2nd house synastry.

9 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 18th or the 9th. themes of the 9th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 9th house or Sagittarius placements. you may have significant 9th house synastry.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

What do they think about you?

"please don't break my heart."

"i hate us."

"you're one more reason for me to stay."

"you hurt me."

"it's like I'm looking in a mirror."

"our relationship isn't balanced."

Pile 6 ✧ Dolphin

swimmer, psychic, sensitive to one's environment, perceptive, being able to read people easily, intuitive, protective, paranoid, healing, freedom, in tune with emotions.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

Who are you thinking about?

LGBTQIA2S+ | brown or black eyes | shorter | key | garden | 33 | 20 | 6 | 2

they may be the key to your social climbing, you may meet them at a party or social gathering, you may meet them when celebrating smth or in a venue, they may be very social and inviting, open-minded, party person, they are very important to you, they feel like a revelation, they may make you realize smth about yourself, opening lots of doors, they will reveal their secrets to you and vice-versa, they will open you to a whole new social group, opening up to the world, they may hold the key to your soul-tribe, one of the few people who could open you up, they see right through the facade you show the world, hidden treasure in a crowd.

3 or 6 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 6th. themes of the 6th house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 6th house or Virgo placements. you may have significant 6th house synastry.

2 might be their life path number. they may be born on the 20th or the 2nd. themes of the 2nd house in astrology might arise a lot in their life. they may have 2nd house or Taurus placements. you may have significant 2nd house synastry.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

What do they think about you?

"i've outgrown you."

"i'm longing for your touch."

"i won't change for you."

"i wish you knew how much you've helped me."

"stop trying to change me."

"together for a good time, not a long time."

Thank you for reading! Love you all.♡

You can buy me a coffee if you feel called to do so! This is never necessary, but always appreciated! ♡

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Chapter Four

Previous

AO3

Technically, it was an accident. Well, more than technically. It was definitely a legitimate accident that Jason figured out their secret identities only a month after meeting them. Chat Noir’s should’ve been the easiest, given the fact that he saw the boy on nearly every billboard in Paris. However, it wasn’t the billboards that gave it away. It wasn’t even the ungodly number of times the kid’s perfume ad came on the tv. No, it was the shocked “Jason” that the boy spluttered out when he bumped into him in front of the school. Without a mask. Yeah. Not subtle at all. Ladybug’s just fell into place after that. What with the tiny dark-haired girl shooting him worried glances as she patted Chat’s back. Chat Noir. Adrien Agreste. Agreste. Gabriel Agreste. Hawkmoth- fuck. That’s why the kid seemed so down every time they worked on a plan to prove Gabriel was Hawkmoth. Shit. Well that settles it. Hawkmoth was going down, and he was going down soon. The kids could handle themselves, and with Jason willing to fight with them...Gabriel won’t know what hit him. 

----

“Oh god. Oh god. I messed up. He’s not gonna help us anymore and I messed up and-” Adrien rambles, a panicked expression taking over his face. 

“Adrien, it’s okay. Please breathe, it’s okay.” Marinette says lowly, gently rubbing his back. 

“He knows who Hawkmoth is, Mari. He’s gonna think I’m a bad guy too.” Adrien whispers, his eyes filling with tears. Marinette’s heart breaks as she looks at her best friend and the crushed look on his face. 

“Jason’s a good guy. He’s always making sure we eat enough and take care of our injuries, and he always asks if we’re getting enough sleep. He’s like….he’s like our big brother. He’s not going to abandon us just because he knows your dad is a major jerk.” Marinette says matter-of-factly. Adrien frowns, but nods. 

“What do we do?” He asks. Marinette scrunches her eyebrows, not understanding the question. “I mean, what do we do about him knowing? Do we ask him to leave Paris? Or do we just act like we don’t know that he knows who we are?” 

“I think we wait, see if he brings it up. I trust him, Adrien. I know that we haven’t known him for long, but he’s always had our best interest in mind. He cares about us, and as much as it hurts to say, I think he cares more than Master Fu did.” 

“Why do I feel like everything’s gonna change?” Adrien asks, his voice small as he curls in on himself. 

“Because it is. But it’s not necessarily a bad change.” Marinette says, hoping her voice sounds cheerier than she feels. She’s also felt the shift coming for awhile, felt the way the air seemed to spark with energy. Adrien frowns again and Marinette wraps him in a hug, knowing that no matter how good the change would be for the majority of Paris, her best friend would be hurt. He would suffer, and there was nothing that she could do to take away all of the hurt that is sure to come. No matter how badly she wanted to. 

----

Jason paced the length of the roof, trying to figure out a way to broach the subject of identities with the kids. He didn’t want them to stop trusting him, but he also didn’t want them to feel like they <i>had<i> to confirm it. He also really didn’t want them to ask him to leave. How was he supposed to be there for them if he wasn’t allowed to <i>be<i> there? Thinking back to earlier this afternoon, Jason huffs in annoyance when he remembers how young both of them looked. Three years. For three goddamned years these kids had fought something bigger than themselves, and they had done so alone. Alone, with no one but other kids to help until even that was taken away from them. Taking a few shaky breaths, Jason tries to calm himself. There’s no way in hell he’s gonna let himself be controlled by some asshole in a butterfly costume. No way he’ll let that asshole use him against those kids. Someone clearing their throat makes Jason’s eyes shoot open as he looks over where he heard the noise. He grins, hoping the kid isn’t overthinking too much.

“Chat may be a little late tonight. He got caught up with something in his civilian life.” Ladybug says, dressed in her usual training clothes and domino mask, her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together. 

“You okay Pixie Pop?” Jason asks, frowning. She purses her lips and Jason can tell she’s weighing how much she should say. Taking a chance, Jason says “I saw you guys today.” The girl sucks in a deep breath and nods. 

“Yeah, yeah I know.” She says, and Jason gives her a minute to collect herself and decide if she wants to say anything else about it. “How much do you know? I know you saw us, but…”

“I know his name. And I know what you look like behind a mask.” Jason says, and the girl nods before she starts pacing. 

“I trust you, Jason. I really do. And I told Chat that it would be okay and that you care about us, but if there’s even a small chance of you being akumatized you’ve gotta go because even though I trust you, I can’t risk my identity and his identity and I’m sure you understand that. Especially with who we think Hawkmoth is because it’s already bad but if he found out it would be even more bad and now Chat is worried that you’ll hate him because of you know, everything, and that’s why he’s not here yet because he’s scared that you’ll look at him differently and-” Ladybug rants, stopping as Jason kneels down to be eye level with her. 

“Hey Pix, I’m gonna need you to breathe okay. I told you that I would help you guys, and I’m not gonna leave just because Chat Noir got the short end of the stick. I don’t hate him, and I’m sure as hell not gonna let myself be akumatized. I’m here for you, both of you. And I’m not gonna let some jackass in a butterfly costume chase me off from helping you guys.” He says, talking in the voice he used when he was talking to street kids as Red Hood. The voice that was meant to be calming, but not patronizing. The voice that was laced with concern, and the reassurance that whoever he was talking to didn’t have to run away. That they were safe. 

“You’re really not gonna leave?” She asks in a small voice. Jason shakes his head. 

“No, I’m here. And I’m not just gonna ditch you guys. If anything, finding out who he is just made me wanna get this done quicker. Get him outta that house.” Jason says, and Ladybug nods. 

“Did you- did you want to know my name?” She asks, and Jason instantly sees the worry in her posture. She’ll tell him, but he can tell that she doesn’t want to. At all. Not that he blames her. A lot sits on her shoulders. Jason shakes his head. 

“You can tell me after, if you want. But you don’t have to say anything now, okay Pixie?” Jason smiles softly as Ladybug’s shoulders instantly relax. She grins and pulls out her phone, probably to tell Chat Noir that it’s safe for him to come. The two wait in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before a soft thud announces the kid’s arrival. 

“Hi Jay.” The boy says quietly, curled in on himself as he obviously prepares to be yelled at. 

“Hey kiddo. I’m not mad at you, you know that, right?” Jason asks, making sure to keep his body language relaxed despite how much he wants to go and beat the shit out of Gabriel Agreste. 

“You don’t think I’m a monster?” Chat asks, and Jason shakes his head. 

“I’ve met monsters, kid. And you’re sure as hell not one.” He says. 

“But my father-”

“I don’t give a damn about that piece of shit. You’re not him. You’re the kid who thought he could fit twelve marshmallows in his mouth. You’re the kid who cheers on LB no matter what. You’re the kid who makes god awful jokes, seriously the only one with worse jokes is my brother. You’re the kid who stepped up and helped to protect Paris when no one else would. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not your father and you’re definitely not a monster.” Jason says. Chat- no, Adrien lets out a choked sob and rushes forward, wrapping his arms around him. Jason freezes for a minute, before wrapping his arms around the kid, watching for butterflies. It’d be just their luck for Gabriel to akumatize Adrien when he was finally letting himself cry. Jason glanced over at LB, noting that she was also watching the skies. After a few minutes, Adrien’s cries slow down to sniffles before he takes a step back, his cheeks bright red under his mask. 

“Uh, I- um, sorry about that.” He apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“Don’t worry about it kid. What’re big brothers for?” Jason asks with a cheeky smirk. He snorts when he sees the kids’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“Did Buginette tell you about that?” Adrien asks, and this time it’s Jason’s turn for his eyebrows to shoot up. He glanced over at Ladybug, surprised to see her entire face bright red. 

“I er, um, no I didn’t.” She stammers out, looking everywhere but at Jason. 

“Tell me what?” Jason asks, still confused why the two were acting so weird. 

“Well, I, um, you see-” Adrien cuts off Ladybug. 

“She says you're our big brother.” Adrien says with a grin. Jason’s confused face is instantly replaced with a wide grin. 

“Well of course I am.” Jason says, unable to wipe the grin off his face. Jason snorted at the thought that Bruce was gonna have to get two more rooms ready at the manor (it was safer than Jason’s apartment and he was not about to put these two in any more danger than they’ve already been in for three years). 

“So big bro,” Adrien starts, his wide grin still stretched across his face. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re gonna get Hawkmoth’s miraculous. Tonight.”

Next

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[writefightandflightclub]

Trial by Fire (Part 1/3) Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN reader

Summary: You’re finally introducing your new boyfriend to The Boys. It must be intimidating for your guy because, hello? Not only are they literally lethal, as well as infeasibly handsome, but they’re hella protective of you to boot. They want the best for you so, naturally, they make your guy run the gauntlet the whole evening. Santiago, though? Well. Given that he is secretly in love with you? Let’s just say he doesn’t handle the situation very well at all.

Genre / tropes: angst, friends to lovers, love confession.

Author’s note: I wasn’t planning on writing this (in fact I’m writing the opposite, where “Santi has a new girlfriend and you don’t take it well” as a series, loosely based around the 7 deadly sins); but, in the meatime, I wrote this to get back into the swing of things after a lil break. It’s just a quick one, but there will be a second and final part, if you want it! Let me know!

Word count: somehow, 4.4k.

Warnings: language, angst, best friends arguing, Santi being an asshole.

Rating: T

The boys aren’t being as awful as you had anticipated, at least. For the most part, they’re actually being pretty friendly, and although they’ve transitioned into grilling Dean about every aspect of his life, they are at least listening intently and smiling at his answers. All except for one fucker, of course; and, naturally, surprising no-one, the fucker misbehaving is one (1) Santiago “Pope” Garcia. 

The group - the boys, yourself, and Dean- are huddled comfortably around the blazing warmth of the fire pit in Frankie’s yard. The dancing, oranged flames cut through the dark and cold of the crisp night, as you sit upwind of the smoke on scattered, mis-matched camp chairs.

Whilst the others are evidently enjoying the evening -faces painted with smiles, body language open and leaning-in to chat to Dean- that fucker Santi is leaning back in his chair, his jaw twitching in seeming aggravation, his arms folded, and his intense eyes needling your beau. In this dim light, with the firelight licking over the sharp planes of his face, he looks every bit like a trained killer about to leap out of the shadows and garotte someone. Well… a very petulant trained killer. His call sign should have been Mr. Grumpy Pants, you think idly.

What’s up with him this time?! you wonder.

He gets these moods sometimes. And, when it strikes him, he can be a little bit hostile - despite the fact he’s a puppy underneath it all. You had hoped that for once, maybe he would suck it up, and yet, your hopes had been in vain, it seems.

Every time Dean speaks, or touches you, or even laughs at another of the guys’ stories, Santi’s expression sinks further and further through layers of distaste; and, by this point, he’s eyeing Dean as though he’s a war criminal the squad have been sent to take-out. You half expect him to leap up and take down Frankie any second for fraternizing with “the enemy”, if you’re honest.

Truth be told, you’ve had just about enough of this. Your friend had better buck his ideas up, sharpish, or he’d be reminded very swiftly that you were Delta Force too.  

For now, trying to ignore the bastard, you look back at Dean, and the sight of him in animated conversation with your buddies causes at least some of your aggravation to fall away. Things have been going well between you and Dean, even if you do say so yourself. Originally from Michigan, he now worked as a lecturer at a nearby music school. He was also a banjo musician in a bluegrass / synth power-pop mash-up of a band, which (sort of) explained his retro-inspired mop of brown hair and his thick dark moustache - majestic enough to rival Frankie’s. True, he wasn’t your usual type, but he was honest, and sweet and kind... Plus, he’d never killed anyone with his bare hands, which was rather refreshing too, if you were honest.

Safe to say, so far, things were working out. So well, in fact, that you’d recently met his parents for the first time while they were in town. So well, in fact, that -after keeping him purposefully away from the boys for as long as you feasibly could- you’d now brought him to meet your family. That’s what this squad was to you, after all. Your family.

Remembering sporadic moments from the past few months together, you smile gently as you listen to Dean talk. You watch him seamlessly integrate some tailored conversation starters you’d fed him ahead of time, and you gently squeeze his thigh in an act of reassurance and appreciation. He is feeling the pressure, you can tell, although he is handling it well. To be fair, you think, who wouldn’t feel the pressure? You’d been nervous enough to meet his parents, but this? A bunch of Delta Force guys and an MMA champion? This squad was lethal; literally -you’ve lost track of your combined kill count, though Will probably hasn’t, you are sure.

Aside from that though, most of all, they are your family. You need them to like Dean and vice versa, and you know that isn’t necessarily a given. You are a tight-knit group, with little hope of outsiders grasping the full extent of your decade’s old in-jokes, or the intense camaraderie instilled by facing a hail of bullets together. Plus, as the baby of the group, they were protective as all hell of you.

It came from a good place, you knew: they wanted what was best for you. But, there was a reason you’d delayed this meeting... It’s not as though they were threatening or anything. They didn’t do the whole “if you hurt our buddy, I’ll kill you” thing, for example (at least, not while you were present – you couldn’t vouch for what happened when you were out of earshot).  However, after introducing a succession of boyfriends to them over the years, the squad had developed a well-rehearsed system for sizing-up your new squeeze. In the past, not all of your squeezes had made it through the gauntlet. It was a trial by fire, to be sure, and you were pleased that Dean has not yet been burned.

Of course, whilst the boys’ approval didn’t mean everything to you, you couldn’t deny it was important; perhaps especially this time, with this guy. And, out of all of the group, Santi’s approval meant the most to you. Always had. Probably because Santi meant the most to you, full stop. You simply couldn’t imagine having someone in your life that didn’t get on with your best friend. And, so, you are not overly thrilled at the reception Santi is giving Dean right now. The reception he had been giving him all evening, in fact. And the more you dwell on it, the more an anger bubbles forth from you. Even though you try to push it down, and focus on Dean, that fucker in the corner of your eye sends you.

“What’s wrong with you tonight, Garcia?” you blurt out, a little louder than intended, causing the amiable chat and giggles to stall, all eyes turning to you - then, in turn, following the direction of your fiery gaze over to Santi, who shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Now, he leans forward. Looks back at you with a rare venom in his eyes. With a smug curl of his mouth, he dips to pick up his beer from the floor and takes a swig - buying himself some time. Trying to brush you off. Still, your gaze does not relent as he rests his elbows on his thighs, bridging his fingers together in the space between, thumbs sticking in the air.

Now, he engages, and he looks directly at Dean, his eyes sweeping dismissively over the entirety of his form. Now, he speaks, his voice filled with far more bitterness than the situation merits. “Nothing at all. I’m fucking peachy. So, Dean. You play the motherfuckin’ banjo?” he offers, and yet, it sounds far more like an accusation than a question.

What the fuck is up with him?

Wilting a little beneath Santi’s stare, as the ex-operative squints his eyes in his direction, Dean casts a helpless, sideward glance at you from his place in the circle, and yet, you are so stupefied by anger that you can do little to help.

“I think what my dear friend means to say -” Frankie dips in valiantly, smacking Santi pointedly on the thigh, likely hoping to smack some sense into him too “- is why don’t you tell us more about your music, Dean?”

Frankie’s eyes and smile are soft when he looks at you, surreptitiously exchanging a pointed look -what’s up with that pendejo?- and you are grateful that at least some of the evident tension is diffused when he picks up the slack in the conversation.

Santi and his mood swings be damned, and, feeling bolstered, Dean continues on.  

“Actually, it’s going pretty frickin’ well with the band. It’s a side-gig to my lecturing job, but we’re planning a tour during summer vacation. The States -east coast- and Western Europe for now. Maybe headlining a couple of small festivals, if that pans out, who knows.” Dean relates, humbly.

“That’s great, man,” Will chips in, helping Frankie get things back on track. “We’ll have to come down to a gig soon, hear you play.”

“Actually, we have something to tell you about the tour, don’t we, babe?” Dean says bashfully, and he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to pick-up the thread. You’d talked about it before coming today, and it had seemed like a great idea at the time, but suddenly, now that the announcement is imminent, your mouth is dry - as if filled with cotton. Still, you force a smile, and you’re not sure why, but you look anywhere else but at Santi as your lips form the words. “Yeah – kinda big news, fellas. I’m going to join Dean on the Europe leg of the tour. I’ll be leaving you losers behind for a few months.”

Dean’s face cracks into a smile and he reaches for your hand, looking made-up at the prospect. Still, while you will yourself to be fully present in the moment, you find yourself focussed on looking anywhere but at Santi, sure that his stare must be boring into the side of your head. You hadn’t told him yet. Unfortunately, at Santi is where just about everyone else ends up looking, as the fucker abruptly pushes his camp chair back and stands, storming indoors before anyone can hope to fathom it.

You exchange glances with Frankie, Will, and Benny, with Benny thankfully stepping-in this time to distract Dean from the obvious, and asking him which stops you two will be making, and which sights you plan to see.

“Look, man, don’t mind that tool. Got any sightseeing plans?”

What is Santi’s problem? Why can’t he give Dean a chance? Yes, you’ve made some mistakes in the past- been hurt, and Santi had helped you pick up the pieces -every time- but you had a good feeling about Dean. A really good feeling. Can’t he see that too?

Frankie throws a concerned glance back towards the house and motions as if to stand, but you beat him to it, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “I’ll go,” you insist, motioning for Frankie to stay put, and with a quick promise to Dean that you’ll be back soon (and a silent plea to your boys to take care of him in your absence), you do just that, walk-jogging across the grass.

When you step inside to the kitchen, you find Santi stood, hunched over the counter, his palms clasping the surface tight enough that his knuckles pale, and his head hung low, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes in exaggerated breaths.

“Well?” you ask pointedly, with zero tolerance for his bullshit. “What’s going on with you? Wanna explain why you’re being an ass to my boyfriend?” you challenge to the back of him, and he instantly whips around at the sound of your voice. 

“I’m being an ass?” he asks indignantly, his eyebrows shooting towards the top of his head. 

“Yes. In a nutshell. Yes,” you hiss, any other interpretation feeling impossible. You fold your arms and purse your lips, making it plainly evident that you are waiting for some explanation. And, oh boy, it had better be good.

Instead of explaining though, Santi simply huffs out breath, gesturing angrily out of the window. “That guy, really? That’s the guy you’re gonna go all in for? Go to fucking Europe for?”

That guy, you mouth silently, completely stupefied for a moment. You’re not sure exactly what your so-called friend is insinuating, but you are clear that you don’t like it one bit.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask, punctuating your words with motions of your hands, as if you are trying to strangle the air in-between you in lieu of his neck. “Dean’s a catch. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a nice guy. He’s there for me. He takes care of me.”

“Like I don’t take care of you?!” Santi exclaims, his voice rising and abrasive; and then, immediately after the words tumble forth from his lips, he steps back imperceptibly, as if startled by his own outburst, his hand rasping over the stubble on his chin.

“What in the...? This isn’t about you, you ass!” you bite back, face scrunching up in confusion. Your fingers come to your temples as you grow increasingly lost-off and perplexed, and seemingly, your riposte only makes Santi double down on whatever the hell he is complaining about.

“Who’s the one who’s always been there for you, hmm? Who picks up the pieces every time you make yet another dumb shitty choice with another shitty guy?” he rambles, gesturing his hand towards you dismissively.

You step back from him this time, just a little, tears spiking instantaneously in your eyes at such an unnecessarily cruel blow. He’s right, in a sense: you had always relied on Santi to heal you, not to hurt you - and yet here he was dealing these painful, incoherent blows out of nowhere.

“Shit, Garcia. If it’s that much trouble to be there for me don’t bother next time,” you snap, your voice breaking as the swell of anger and hurt and adrenalin sends tears spilling over your cheeks. “Don’t worry though, I don’t think I’ll need you again. In fact, I have a feeling this guy might stick. So, maybe? Maybe you should think about the fact that the only shitty guy around here is you.” 

“You really think he’s good enough for you, hmm? He’s really who you want to end up with?”

You listen, aghast, as his tirade keeps coming. However, as Santi’s voice breaks with emotion part-way through his second question, you can’t explain it, but you feel an intolerable sadness in the pit of you. Even though you’re not sure what’s causing all this, what you’re barrelling toward, you want to thrust this sadness away from you. Push him away from you.  You want to push away the knot in your stomach for fear that if you tug at that thread, you might arrive at an answer to his question.

Exasperated, overwhelmed, you roughly paw tears from your cheeks, not knowing where all of these feelings are coming from, in either direction. “Fuck, I... I don’t understand what this is. I don’t get it!” you say, waving your hands, palms-up, through the air. “Is this some macho bullshit? Have I pissed you off somehow?”

At that, the wave of Santi’s anger crests and breaks; as you wonder if you annoyed him. Then, as suddenly as his anger came it is waning, his eyes pooling with rare tears now. With a huff of breath he tears off his damn cap, tossing it aside to run a hand through his grizzled hair.��

“No. No,” he backtracks a little, palms up in surrender. “You haven’t... I.... I just...” He pinches his lips in-between his teeth and looks up at the ceiling as his words trail off, perhaps trying to steady his voice before continuing. Or, perhaps he has nothing else to say to you. Perhaps he’s said enough.

You examine him. Still pissed as all hell, but worried now too, and ultimately, your love for your best friend slightly edging-out the anger. It’s rare that anything affects him like this, and you can’t help the sudden rush of concern.

Cresting too, you exhale a tightly held breath into the now silent, taut space between you, and your body sags - just a little. You chew over your words a moment, but when your voice comes back the volume is lower, your tone softer - and, although it cannot be considered friendly, by any stretch, it’s the best you can do right now.

“You know what,” you offer, generously, wrapping your arms around your own middle, stroking your forearms with your own fingertips. “I’m giving you a pass. You don’t even want to give Dean a chance? Then just leave, Santi. Just go. I’ll give the guys some bullshit excuse that doesn’t leave you looking like a total ass, because I’m not a dick to my friends. So just go, okay?” You pump your eyebrow at him indignantly and await a response, your manner stiff and unyielding.

Santi closes his eyes and knits his brow together, something like regret finally passing over his face and he shuffles guiltily from foot-to-foot.

You puff out air through your teeth and shake your head, as you observe this Delta Force hero; the bravest man you know in many ways, but still too cowardly to tell it like it is. To admit that he’s in the wrong. You are afraid to say that even as his gaze comes back to you, misty-eyed, you have little sympathy for his plight. You are sure it is of his own doing. You are almost as sure that he won’t open-up.

“You know,” you begin, breaking from your position and gathering up a fresh cooler of beers from the fridge, turned away from him as you speak. “I brought Dean to meet my family. Do you understand that? I didn’t have parents and siblings for him to meet. I have you guys. You’re my family.”

Still nothing. Nothing but silence greets you. Nothing but a pained expression on his face, his brows drown together and the artificial light of the kitchen highlighting the harsh planes of his face as you look over your shoulder at him, waiting for some reaction. Some admission of guilt. None comes. He simply slots his hands into his jean pockets, looking sheepish.

“So,” you continue, greeted with a brick wall, “fuck knows why you don’t want me to be happy, but I am. I’m happy with him. Thanks a ton for shitting all over that.”

You don’t even bother to look towards him this time, instead placing the last of the clinking, condensation-adorned bottles into the carrier, resigned to head back out without him, and without any apology.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and your head whips towards him in surprise.

He looks it - sorry. He looks apologetic. Deeply so. He looks sorry for this, for every way he’s ever slighted you, for every time he’s hurt you, even in ways and moments you never knew about. He looks sorry down to the pit of him, and it catches you off-guard when you see it freely offered there in his eyes.

Even so, this is a stubborn man. There’s an apology, but there’s no explanation. Nothing to explain his behaviour. So, even though it seems genuine, it also doesn’t seem like enough.

It doesn’t appease you, and yet, all you can bring yourself to do is sigh deeply.

You know Santi better than anyone, but there’s always been a part of him that has seemed out of reach, even to you. You’re not sure -never have been- whether to be scared or excited by those unknown parts of him. Not sure whether the impasse hints at buried secrets too dark and deep to bear, or whether it hints of a possibility of something more. Something deeper or something better you could have together, if only he would let you in. You don’t know, and you never have, but all you are sure of is that you have constantly teetered on the edge of that abyss, too much left unknown to know all of him, however much you may have wished to. He’s entitled to his secrets, of course, but you hate how they hurt him. 

With a little sympathy now, you examine his watery eyes, and when your voice comes back this time, it is softer and slower than you intended. More tired than you expected.

“You know, Dean wants to be with me. And he tells me so.” You casually dip down to pick-up the cooler handle, eyes still fixed on your best friend. “He might not be Delta Force… he might be a banjo player from Michigan… but even he’s brave enough for that.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Santi says, bristling all over again, his hand rasping angrily over his stubbled jaw, and yet, you decline him an explanation. Instead, keeping your own secrets now, holding back, you head towards the door, beers in hand.

Still, you turn back to him. You might be angry, but you still care for him -more than you could say. 

“If you figure out what’s up with you, let me know, and I’ll be there for you. Whatever you’ve got going on, you know that, right? But this? This isn’t okay, Garcia. You might think that I make dumb choices -you ass, by the way- but I’ve watched you hit self-destruct so many times instead of dealing with your feelings. Maybe you should look at your own life, huh, instead of shitting all over me for trying to be happy? Shit, at least I fucking try.”

His eyes shift from side to side in the room, the muscles in his jaw twitching, chin jutting forward, and his thumbs locked in his belt loops. He can’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze; at least not until you are disappearing through the threshold; until it’s almost too late. Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

“Wait!” he pleads, but you cut him off, before he can speak. Even though, truth be told, you’re not sure he would muster anything to say at all, even if you gave him a chance. He’s so used to holding back.

“No,” you say firmly. “Forget it, I’m done. I still love you- you’re my best friend. But, fuck, just go home, and get out of my sight, Santiago. I’m so pissed with you right now.”

And so, you turn away, and when his words finally do come, they are spoken to the back of your head. They are spoken without you ever seeing his lips move, and you wonder if he ever said them at all, or if this might be some cruel trick of the night. Some witching hour spell. That is, until you turn towards him and you see the words painted clearly on his face too.

“Fuck it. I’m in love with you.”

I’m in love with you.

Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

You’re not sure what reaction he was expecting, but you almost choke on the sudden lump in your throat. You feel a taste of bile rising-up into your mouth. An intense, resurgent anger fills you, which near makes the room spin, and makes your hands and your legs tremble.

Even if a hidden, unconscious part of you has been waiting, hoping for these words all these years, when they finally come all you can feel is... royally pissed off.

“Oh. No. No. No,” you repeat, words gradually increasing in volume, looking at Santi as if he has mortally wounded you, rather than offered that confession. “You do not get to do this to me.”

You see a hard swallow bob down his throat, a near-instant regret on his face, and your heart pounds in your chest as you reel with the implications of his words.

The coward. The fucking asshole. He waited until now? All the times things had gone to shit, and he waited until you were happy?

“All the times...” you accuse, your tone as bitter as the taste in your mouth, the metallic tang of blood as you feel a rushing in your ears. “All the fucking times. All the chances, Santi, and you do this now?” you continue, your finger sawing through the air, wagging accusations at him, even as your voice wavers, as your hands notceably tremble. “No. Fuck you, Garcia. Fuck you.”

You want to cry, or scream, but you are too angry. So angry, that it eclipses anything else which might come to light. So angry that you almost come full circle again, beginning to stabilise out at eerily calm.

Santi looks down at the floor, and exhales air, chuckling disbelievingly to himself, then lightly nodding his head, lips pressed tightly together. His feet shift agitatedly below him as he brings his endlessly familiar eyes back up to meet yours. This time when he looks at you, it hurts. You remember bullet wounds, and you swear that was nothing compared to this.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say to me, hmm? Fuck you, Garcia?”

“What the fuck were you expecting?” you say, launching your words before you realise the implications of them. Yes, you know fine well that your boyfriend is sitting outside, likely wondering where you have got to. But, if you had the wherewithall to have thought about it, you would know exactly what Santi was expecting, despite all of that. You would know that a part of him must be expecting, hoping, that when he told you, you might reciprocate. That you might love him back.

And, would that be so outside of the realms of possibility? Would it be so hard to imagine that the deep, magnetic, and unshakeable friendship you shared could be something else? Something more? That you could tip over the edge you had long been teetering on? Maybe it could, or maybe it could have, but right now, you can’t see past the flashbang he has just dropped over your life, and it is clouding your vision.

You were happy. You are happy. Fuck him for doing this now.

Why would you fall into the unknown for him, if you never knew whether he would catch you? If you never knew whether ruin or safety awaited you if you let yourself tip? He always held back.

What the fuck were you expecting?

Your words linger in the space between you, and in lieu of any other lifeline, realisation dawns on Santi’s face. Realisation that, although he jumped, you are not intending to catch him either. But how could you catch him, with your arms already full?

And, so, he slowly nods his head once again, his eyes beading with glassy tears and his hand grazing over his chin in a self-soothing gesture. Wordlessly, he sets his jaw and he abruptly replaces his baseball cap on his head, padding a few steps forward to stand opposite you, sucking all of the breath from your lungs. This time, when he looks at you, you see all of your past, but you still can’t see beyond that. The abyss still scares you too much.

Like this, facing each other down, eye-to-eye, the silence in the room grows sharp as a knife, refined to a point. So, when Santi abruptly turns to leave in a sharp, determined trajectory, without so much as looking at you, it is as if he has dragged the blade across your skin in an equally swift motion. As if he has left you open and bleeding-out, having delivered a mortal wound with the act of his exit. You’ve felt like this on the battelfield before, and in life, yet he was always there for you. Always there to patch you. To pick up the pieces.

Instead of screaming open-mouthed for help, this time, you simply watch him go, and now you are the wordless one, mustering nothing but a gasped inhale of breath before your vision blurs with tears - as you watch his hazy form disappear along the hall and out of your sight.

“Santi,” you call pathetically, your voice small and weak and teary, barely making it past your throat, and he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t hear you but even if he had, you’re not sure anymore if he would have stopped.

When Santi slams the front door behind him, you shudder with it in its frame, your hand coming to your chest as if to hold your heart inside your opened-up ribs, and you close your eyes against the jarring sound, tears spilling down your cheeks, your face screwing-up into a shined, contorted grimace.

Entirely lost, now alone, you bizarrely wish for the room to be filled with anger again, instead of the intolerable sadness - which all too suddenly takes hold of you as your emotions crest and break. It is all you can do to stumble forward a few paces and hunch over the countertop, finding yourself in the exact position you had discovered Santi in. You stand, bracing yourself with your arms, fingers clutching the edge of the worktop, and your head slumped forward, tears freely spilling out of you as your chest heaves.

You wonder whether he’d held himself in this same position because he had felt an intolerable sadness too. An intolerable sadness at seeing you happy.

Suddenly you could understand it.

That fucker. Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

I’m in love with you.

I’m in love with you.

The words echo in your mind, but this time, if you’re honest, you’re not wholly sure if they’re his, or yours.

PART TWO IS HERE

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Being a Slytherin and Dating Fred Weasley

masterlist

HP masterlist

-Fred,,,,,didn’t know how to deal with having feelings for a Slytherin 

-my dude was so lost. 

-it began when he was eleven, you were both first years.

-Around your fifth year, you and Ginny were talking about how a guy said you were too intimidating to be with. You jokingly looked at Fred and went, “could you fall for a woman like me?” 

“I already have.” He said without missing a beat. 

-You’re a Prefect. He adores you. 

-He was shocked to find out you were a nerd. And, that you had to wear glasses or else you couldn’t see. When he found out you couldn’t see without help, he designed a pair of glasses to stay on your face on the quidditch field. He also charmed them to stay clean and adjust as your prescription changed. 

-He began working on them your second year. They still weren’t perfected until your sixth year. 

-He gave them to you as a one year anniversary gift, you cried. 

-He panicked. 

-He was worried he had insulted you, when he asked what was wrong you just went, “this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me.” 

-His heart melted. 

-He also won points with your family with the invention. Especially your dad. 

-His nickname for you is “hissy.”

-The nickname has caused several questions which Fred and you just shrug off. It’s a secret as to how the name came to be. 

-He has bi-wife energy. 

-You were muggle born, you came from a non-slytherin family (the first member to be a Slytherin that your family tree knows of). 

-They all knew it was your ambition that got you into your house. You also hated being a follower, you were a born leader. You also had a poisonous bite, your comments have been known to make others dislike you. You spoke your mind when someone was rude. 

-Molly immediately accepted you in their family despite your house. As well as Arthur. 

-You were protective over his siblings. After not having a good relationship with your own, you adopted his. 

-Ginny loved having another girl around all the time, Hermione can’t stay all summer but you can.  

-Ron liked seeing someone give Fred and George shit. Plus, whenever their pranks were too hard on Ron, you always said something. 

-Percy doesn’t necessarily dislike you, he's just a priss. But only you and his family can call him a priss, if someone else does it that’s when you jump in. Percy knows that when it comes down to it, you’re a ride or die for their family, so he accepts you. 

-George was the only one who wasn’t surprised when you and Fred announced you two were dating. He had been shipping you guys since day one. 

-Bill and Charlie had known about you because of Molly. She wrote them letters about how Fred was clearly in love with a Slytherin girl named Y/N. They were wary, then when they saw how you treated Fred and the rest of their family, they liked you. 

-Molly has a muggle camera, she enjoys taking random pictures of her family. 

-She’s taken thousands of you and Fred. Her favorite is one that was taken after christmas. You and Fred were lying on the couch. His head was on your chest, your hand had stilled in his hair. You both were passed out. 

-There’s also many of you two just laughing at each other. Eyes crinkled, mouths open in silent laughs. 

-Speaking of laughs. He loves yours. 

-It ranges from absolute cackling, silent shakes, wheezes, screaming laughing. He loves it. 

-He makes it his mission to make you smile once a day. 

-You have a familiar. She is tattooed on your body. When you were born, your family got her for you. She grew as you did. 

-You had a snake, not a death eater snake or a snake like Nagini. A snake that protected your family. Her name was Mushu. 

-Mushu could transform into a massive snake, one that could swallow the Dursleys if she wanted. On your skin, she was as tiny as a garden snake. She chose her size. She had black scales, but in the light they turned chrome. 

-When you and Fred started dating, you were extremely worried as to how he would react to you having a snake on your body. You were so worried you couldn’t hide it from him. 

-Fred was fascinated by Mushu, Mushu’s favorite place was to lay on your breasts, it was soft for her. She also loved your back because she could spread out. If you slept on your stomach, Mushu would go on your back. Fred would trace her scales at night. 

-But when you told him about her, you were petrified. 

-One night in your dormitory (your roommates were out and you use a charm to get Fred up there) he could see your leg shaking, you were having an anxiety attack about it. Which caused Mushu to get more restless. 

He knows by now about your tells when having an anxiety attack, like dissociating. 

He set a hand on your knee, “what’s wrong hissy?” 

“I...I have a secret, Freddie.” You said, with tears in your eyes. “You don’t have to tell me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He knew it wasn’t anything involving you cheating. He knew you well enough. 

“No, I want to, I’m just really scared as to how you’re going to react. But before we move farther in this relationship, you need to know.”

“Okay. Whatever it is, it’s safe with me.” 

“Okay, I have a...familiar on my body.”

“What?” He had only heard legends about such creatures. 

You nodded, “she was given to me as a baby, my parents didn't know what the world held out there, because they knew...they knew you-know-who was around. So they contacted a well known witch with familiars, and they bought her for me. A familiar has to be bonded with an infant or else it won’t connect well. The two have to grow up with each other.”

You were gauging his reaction, he nodded for you to continue. You smiled, your hand absentmindedly going to your chest. “Her name is Mushu. I called her Moo as a toddler because I couldn’t pronounce her name. She’s a snake.” 

“Okay.” He nodded. 

“....Okay? You’re...okay with this?” 

He shrugged, “it’s a part of your body, Y/N. I love it no matter what.”

You smiled, your shoulders relaxing, “you want to see her?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You looked down your sweatshirt, “Moo, you gotta move.” You said. 

Mushu, the stubborn beast she is, did not. 

You sighed and looked at him, “she won’t move.” 

“Where is she?” 

“In between my tits.” 

His eyes widened, “you don’t have to show me.” His cheeks were bright red. 

“I will if you’re okay with it.” 

He nodded, “whatever you want to do.” 

You smiled and gripped your hoodie. You pulled it from your head, trying not to blush as Fred was seeing a lot of you for the first time. You were wearing a bra, but still. 

You didn’t know how Fred would react. He gazed at you, you could tell he was trying extremely hard to not look right at your boobs. Her body rested between your breasts. Her tail had curled around your stomach, her tail dipping beneath the band of your sweatpants. Her neck was around yours, her head coming down to rest on the swell of your breast. 

He took one look at her and went, “she’s beautiful.” 

You sighed, “I love you.” 

“And I love you.” He said kissing you. He pulled away, “why were you scared?”

“Because, I’ve never shown her to any partner I’ve had. And I like you a lot more than I like those exes.” You smiled. “Not going to lie, I’m also not the biggest fan of my body, but she helps me with that. With owning it.” 

“You’re absolutely exquisite. No matter your size or what beauties grace your body.” At that comment Mushu’s head shimmied. He smiled at her, “they make you who you are.” 

“And that is?” 

“The love of my life.” 

[mandoalorian]

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 6: The Proposal ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 3000>

Warnings: arranged marriage mention, childhood trauma mention, food mention

Series Masterlist

Why was he so nervous? He shouldn’t be this nervous. Din was subconsciously pacing backwards and forwards, the weight of the beskar wedding ring pulling him down with every step he took. You were sitting in the corner, cradling Grogu in your arms and cooing sweet nothings into his ear. Grogu looked up at you with complete adoration, his big, dark eyes gleaming with admiration. Din could understand why he was so fond of you. You were so easy to love. 

“I’m hungry,” you announced with a small frown. You had been stuck in the covert for around four hours and it was already well into the evening. “And so is he.” you said, smoothing your hand over the little green bean’s wrinkly forehead. Din omitted a small ‘hmph’, simply acknowledging your comment but choosing not to do anything about it. Everytime he looked at you, the butterflies in his stomach only became more erratic, and his heart swelled with yearn and anticipation. He was actually going to ask you to marry him.

There was no telling how you’d react. But rather than manipulating you into believing he loved you in order to gain the throne of Mandalore, like he had initially planned on, Din had gained far too much respect for you to do such a thing. Besides, how could he possibly pretend to love you when the chances were, he was already falling. So he had opted to be honest, and it would be brutal. But he had no other choice. It would be foolish for you to refuse his proposal considering everything that was at stake. 

“We need to talk.” Din announced, taking Grogu from your arms and settling him down into the hovering cot. Taking a handful of sourberries from the sack in his pocket, he dropped them into his son’s claws and used his gauntlet to close the crib, offering a sense of privacy. 

“We need to talk,” you quoted him, your frown only deepening as you stood up. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Din shuffled around awkwardly. He’d never imagined marrying anyone. He was a lone wolf, and always had been. But now he was with the most beautiful princess in the entire galaxy, and you looked like something straight out of a fairytale his mother would read him when he was just a child. You were too good for this world. You were filled with care and compassion and unconditional love, but not only that, you were a warrior and a fighter. You knew what you wanted and you wouldn’t stop until you got it. And it was his duty, as a Mandalorian, to protect his Manda’lor. 

“We’re surrounded. By Imps… hunters… people who want you dead. People who will turn you in for a reward. You’re safe, here, in the covert. But we’ll have to leave eventually, and it won’t be easy.” Din confessed, shaking his head. He sounded uneasy, and the tone of his voice wasn’t lost on you. Just for once, you wished he’d remove that helmet of his so you could take a look into his eyes. It would help you gauge what exactly was going on.

“But the Mandalorians here will protect me, right? That’s what you said?” you asked, and Din wanted to curse himself. You were right, he did promise that, but as it turned out, not everything was as it seemed.

“On a condition…” he exhaled, trying to hold himself together. You furrowed your eyebrows in bewilderment, waiting for him to spit it out.

It annoyed you, slightly. Din hadn’t mentioned anything about conditions before. As far as he and the other Mandalorians were concerned, you were the Manda’lor, and so you expected the warranted protection from them without question. And honestly, Din had thought that too. 

Din squeezed his eyes tight shut and tried to compose himself. He felt guilty, in a way. He could ask you this and even if you agreed, you could still hate him. And he really didn’t want you to hate him. He’d grown attached to you, and gained feelings for you, and it wasn’t ideal for a man of his nature, but it was just the way it was. You’d come into his and Grogu’s life and changed it completely. 

Maybe marrying you wouldn’t be so bad. You were kind and gentle and absolutely beautiful. And Din had considered settling down before. Maybe this was his moment. He just had to suck it up and go for it.

“They will protect you only if you join the creed… our creed,” Din informed you, taking a deep breath. You stiffened up, wondering what exactly this implication was. You could never join his creed. He was Death Watch, responsible for the war and murder of not only Mandalore’s civilians, but also your mother. “Since you were born into another creed, and you are not a foundling, the only way you can join the Watch is through eloping.” Din continued and you couldn’t contain the small gasp that fell from your lips. You watched as the Mandalorian fished out the beskar wedding ring and held it before you between his gloved fingers. 

“Are you… are you proposing?” you asked, feeling the tears well in your eyes.

“This is the way,” Din replied softly, and you had to force yourself to look away from the silver ring. “Please, please understand.”

“We… I…” you were speechless. Asking you to join his creed who you had spent your whole life despising (and for good reason) was one thing, but then asking you to be his wife as well? Those were two very separate ordeals that you were not expecting when you woke up this morning. “We’ve only just met…”

Din closed his eyes and sighed, preparing to face the rejection. “I know.”

“And I-- I can’t join your creed. I can’t. I can’t do it Din.” you pursed your lips together as you tried to hold back the tears. “Please don’t force me.”

“Hey hey, no, I would never force you,” Din shushed, stuffing the ring back into his pocket and taking a step closer to you, breaking any distance. He wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you into his chest. “I wish there was another way, but there isn’t. The Armorer has made that very clear. If you refuse, then you’ll have to leave, and I won’t be able to help you anymore. I-- I don’t want you to leave…” Din admitted quietly and you swallowed.

“I don’t want to leave either.” you confessed, wiping away your tears and looking up at him. 

“It’s your call. But you have until nightfall.”

It wasn’t necessarily the marriage you had a problem with -- but how could you join a creed that you spent so long hating? A creed that had caused you so much distress and dismay. 

“The Watch has done bad things, and I can’t… I can’t. Din… you must understand.”

“I do,” Din said, taking your hands and sitting you back down. “My parents--my real parents--were killed by Separatists. It’s been thirty years and I still can’t think about it. They are my enemies, and to be asked to join them would feel like treason to my own bloodline.”

Obviously, Din had no idea why the Imperial’s had targeted a bounty on you. He had no idea why they wanted you so bad. But you knew exactly. The burden on your shoulders of being a runaway princess who was also pretending to be the Manda’lor was unbearable, but the knowledge of you being the Manda’lor was the only thing keeping Din by your side. If he learned the truth, he’d have no reason to protect you anymore. He’d leave you, just like everyone else had. And you couldn’t even blame him.

All you had to do was retrieve the darksaber once more and regain your right of passage to the Mandalorian throne.

“How can you just sit here and let them do this, let your creed do this? I get that they’re traditionalists but their actions have caused the onslaught of millions. They’re a danger.” you shook your head.

Ever since you had told Din of what his creed had done to your home and family, he’d thought about it, a lot. The process of leaving the Watch was never an option. They had brought Din up, trained him, and protected him. He owed it to them to stay. But if what you said was true, could he really stand and represent such a harmful community? He had a son to look after, and you. The last thing Din wanted was to get unbeknownst wrapped up in some terrorist organization he once called home.

He was grateful for the Watch, and the Armorer, but they had blackmailed him and gaslit him. He’d been so blinded by it all this time, brushing off their actions as ‘the way’ and knowing to never question it. But now it was all becoming more clear, especially after telling him that your protection relies on you joining their creed.

He understood how great it would be for the Watch if the literal Manda’lor became a member, but that didn’t mean it was right. Din’s delay in a response prompted you to speak up again.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault.”

Din looked back up at you and tilted his head slightly as he admired your delicate features and tear stained cheeks. “Look, I shouldn’t say this, but as long as you pretend that you’re part of the creed and pretend to follow our rules, then there shouldn’t be much of an issue. We can utilize our warriors and get off Nevarro in one piece, and that should be our priority at the minute,” You nodded your head in understanding. He was right. “But we still need to elope. If you agree, the Armorer will bear witness and marry us tonight. And we can head out first thing tomorrow morning, before dawn.”

You bit your lip as you contemplated his suggestion. It wasn’t a bad call at all. It was simply just a negotiation. Din began to prepare himself to face another bout of rejection, but instead, you reached back into his pocket and took out the beskar wedding ring. Examining it carefully in your hands, you slid it down your wedding ring finger and held your hand to the candlelight, admiring the way it sparkled against your skin.

“Okay.” you hummed, not tearing your gaze from the ring. It was a symbol of commitment, although you certainly weren’t happy about it. What other choice did you have?

“Okay?” Din repeated incredulously. 

“Okay,” you said, eventually looking up at the Mandalorian and offering him a shrug of your shoulders. “I’ll marry you.”

An air of silence filled the room, but, just like always, it was comfortable.

“I’ll go tell the Armorer--” Din said eventually, straightening out his posture. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. You were going to be his wife.

“--Din?” you said before he could leave the room. He paused in his tracks but made no effort to turn around and face you. “Thank you. For everything.”

The guilt was eating you alive. You had been lying to him. He’d taken you in, done everything in his power to protect you, and even trusted you with his kid. And this entire time, you had been lying to you. He was going to marry you because he believed you were the Manda’lor.

And you weren’t.

That was going to be an issue.

When Din returned from his conversation with the Armorer, he informed you that the ceremony would take place at midnight. And that you were both to exchange vows.

“With all due respect, we barely know each other. Vows might be a problem,” you giggled, feeling a blush cross your cheeks from his presence alone.

“We’ll do the traditional Mandalorian vows, then.”

You weren’t really surprised, with his creed in particular being such traditionalists. It wasn’t a bad option, though. “Do you think… uhm… before the ceremony, we could spend some time together? Learning about each other? In the midst of all this chaos, I think it would be nice to just… talk.” 

Why were you so nervous? Clearly, Din was a man of a few words. He wasn’t one to just ‘talk’. But after this sacrifice you’d made, Din thought it was the least he could do. You were going to be his wife, after all.

“Okay.” Din mumbled, sitting down next to you.

“Uhm…” you felt your voice trail off as you wondered what you could ask him. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Don’t have one.” He answered quickly.

“Everyone has a favourite colour.” you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Not me,” Din responded, and he was thankful in that moment his helmet shielded you from seeing the smile that graced his lips. He loved it when you pulled faces like that. He thought it was adorable. “What’s yours?”

“Uhm…” you thought for a moment, and then remembered the colour of your favourite and most delicious fruit. Sourberries. You hadn’t stopped craving them since the morning. “Pink.”

“Okay…” Din replied, storing that piece of information to the back of his mind as he pondered a question to ask you. “What was it like, growing up in a palace? Being royal.”

You and Din had led very different lives growing up, there was no doubt about that.

“It was all I’ve ever known. I recognise my privilege but… it wasn’t always easy.” you replied. You had never really talked about your experiences simply because you had no one to talk to them with.

“I remember when Duchess Satine died,” Din said, his voice quiet knowing that the mention of your mother might still have been sensitive. “Were you alone, after that?”

“Not really. My aunt looked out for me. And… there was this one Jedi Knight.” 

Now that was certainly something you had never expected to talk about. In fact you had been warned by Bo-Katan to never mention the relationship between your mother and that one particular Jedi. You couldn’t remember him clearly, but still to this day, you felt some kind of attachment to him. It was hard to describe. It was a type of unconditional love. He was always there for you and Satine, protecting you both. Similarly, it was just like how Din protected you and Grogu.

He never spoke to you, but when you needed him, he was there. You could always rely on him. You weren’t sure where he was now, or if he was even alive. It had been many years.

“A Jedi?” Din questioned, his curiosity piquing. He remembered what the Armorer had told him when he took in Grogu -- about his ‘kind’ being Jedi. About how they were enemies. Sorcerers. “Wasn’t there a war between the Mandalorians and the Jedi?”

“There was, yes,” you said, looking down at the floor. Din pulled off his gloves and took your hand. The skin on skin contact was enough to take your breath away. He rubbed comforting circles into your wrist as he waited for you to continue. “But my mother, like the Jedi, was a pacifist.”

“I wouldn’t say the Jedi were pacifists…” Din uttered a little too quickly.

“You have a point,” you replied after a brief moment of silence. “But this Jedi in particular… he was a good man. I wish I could’ve met him in my adolescence. I wish I could thank him.”

“Do you remember his name?” Din asked, his mind immediately thinking about the prospect of somehow locating the Jedi. If there was a way he could bring his parents back and thank them for all they had done, he would. This man was clearly a parental-like figure to you, and if he was important to you, he was important to Din.

“I don’t,” you shrugged helplessly, biting back more tears. “A few years ago I asked my aunt. I know she remembers but she just chooses to withhold that information from me. She tells me that she’s doing it to protect me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Din whispered, smoothing out your hair and pressing a keldabe kiss to your forehead. The coolness of his beskar helmet stung your forehead and, in that moment, you found yourself yearning for more.

You yearned to feel his body heat and the warmth of his lips. You yearned to see his face and memorize every detail. You yearned to tangle your fingers in his hair… you assumed that he did, in fact, have hair. 

At least now, you wouldn’t have to wait so long.

“I should get ready for the ceremony, and you should too,” Din declared, eventually pulling away from you completely. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the small sack of sourberries that he’d gotten earlier. “These are for you.” he said, putting the sack into the palm of your hand.

You loosened the straw ribbon and took a peek inside. It was the pretty pink fruit you had been craving for so bad.

When you told him you didn’t like the bone broth, he’d gone out and found you sourberries.

Even though he said they were far too expensive.

He’d done it for you.

Because he loved you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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[lucysometimeswrites]

SUBMISSION: Prompt 1,20,29 from the Disney song list with Harry Holland ( I’m interested to see how this goes)

DUDE i am so sorry this took SOOOOO long but i hadn't had time for it and i didn't wanna just give you something rushed so anyway i hope you like it!

1. Please don’t shut me out again, please don’t slam the door.

20. Go on and kiss the girl.

29. Barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly

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

“God, that’s disgusting”, you grimaced at the newly-formed couple who was making out in the living room. The Holland’s living room, to be precise. Harry and you had been friends for a while, close enough to be invited to get-togethers and random drinking evenings. This was one of those evenings, where everyone wanted to unwind and have a good laugh to inaugurate the weekend, and Harry offered the perfect way to do that.

I mean, free booze, the guy you liked, and good music? How could you say no?

You and Harry had hit it off quite quickly after first meeting a few years ago, through mutual friends. You had a lot of similar interests, same sort of humour, and even in the things you thought differently on, you learned to like for the other. He was an absolute dream. Everyone saw it, too. They secretly hoped you’d get together soon, and already assumed something happened between the two of you but, alas, here you were. Angry at life and that innocent couple in the living room because of the stupid, lovey-dovey thoughts that just wouldn’t go away.

“Why the long face?” Harry asked with a chuckle as he entered the kitchen, stopping beside you and turning to look where your angry stare was headed.

You nodded towards the living room, and answered, “Them. Like, can you not do it in front of my face, please?”

“But you’re all the way here in the kitchen?” he said, confused.

“Shut up” you ended, giving a big swig of your cup. A silence made itself at home between you too, not necessarily uncomfortable as you would expect, but a little suffocating. You became self-conscious about every move you made, hating how the curly-headed boy could turn you into a mess with just his presence.

“I think it’s cute” he shrugged, breaking the silence.

“They’re barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly. Ha, what a joke” you challenged.

The quiet settled again and you didn’t notice, but Harry side-eyed you while a million thought ran through his mind. He remembered that one night where you found yourselves in a similar situation. Both drunk off your asses and looking at the world through a pink lens, you shared an intimate kiss just weeks after meeting each other. He also remembered how, after trying to talk about it with you, you shut him out and didn’t speak to him for an entire two weeks. It was after promising he’d never bring it up again that you ended the silent treatment, much to his delight.

As the night went on, you kept going into the kitchen for more drink refills, feeling a little tipsy. The people, getting rowdier and nastier, went on to find the darkest spots in the house for their shenanigans, and you were so distracted that you didn’t even realize when you were dragged to a circle that formed in the living room. The announcement that the classic “Spin The Bottle” game was about to be played was made and yup, cue the eye roll.

A bunch of rounds went by with no one you actually cared to remember the name of getting their turn, until the guy who looked a little to drunk to be managing the game yelled,

“Harry! My boy! Your turn to snog one of these lucky ladies here tonight” he motioned to the girls sitting around the circle, who all bit their lips or looked down in embarrassment.

“Snog? Shut up, mate,” the red-head answered and confidently spun the bottle.

You held your breath and did not tear your eyes from it, the stupid thing seeming to spin for ages until it slowly came to a stop.

Pointing at you.

Of course it’s me, you thought as you closed your eyes, damning every single power in the universe. When you opened them, Harry was intently staring at you, as if studying any movement you might make and trying to figure out what was going through your head. In response, you got on your knees and lightly slapped you hands on your thighs, showing you were ready. He didn’t move an inch, still analyzing your face. Harry knew this was thin ice he was treading on—one wrong move and everything would go to shit. He was dying to press his lips on yours, even if it was just a game, but the memories from a few weeks back flooded his mind and—

“C’mon mate! Go on and kiss the girl!” the guy from earlier encouraged.

Well, why the fuck not?, you both thought at the same time.

Harry crawled to you and you met him halfway, lips clashing with force and desire. His hand made its way to cradle your cheek and part of your neck, guiding the kiss and making you melt into a puddle instantly. Your mouth opened a little more, letting him kiss you deeper and hungrier like no one has ever before. It was absolutely everything you had ever wanted.

And it was everything you couldn’t have.

Parting your lips with your hands on his chest, you felt tears well up in your eyes, and whispered for only you and him to hear,

“This is why the fuck not”

You hurriedly got up as everyone cheered and hooted after the heated show they saw, quickly glancing at Harry but rushing towards the upstairs bathroom.

“Please! Y/N, wait!

Hearing a faint call of your name and footsteps catching up to you, you almost ran for the room you deemed safe. Before going in, however, Harry’s voice made you stop in your tracks.

“Please, please. Please don’t shut me out again, please don’t slam the door”, he begged.

You felt his presence a few feet behind you, the dark hallway only aiding in the tense atmosphere that surrounded you. Not daring to move an inch, the only thing you could do was stare ahead at the shower curtain, your mind going a thousand miles a minute on how anything that happened in the next few moments could make or break you.

A pair of warm, shaky hands found their place on your shoulders, making you tense and then relax as they carefully and lovingly caressed their way down your arms. You felt the ghost of his chest against your back, his breath fanning on your neck and you closed your eyes, savouring the moment but dreading having to face him and look him in the eye. Gently, he grabbed your elbows and turned you to him, still very close to you.

In all honesty, Harry did not have a plan. He ran after you because there was no way he was letting you get away once more, but now that he caught up to you and had you so close to him, he had no clue what to do. His mind had gone blank, the only thing filling it was the image of you. You, whom he had shared so many memories with. You, with the beautiful laugh and crinkly eyes that brought butterflies to his chest every time. You, who never failed to bring happiness into his life, even if you weren’t on the best terms. You, whom he loved so much.

Leaning his forehead against yours, he quietly pleaded one more time, “Please don’t run away from me again”.

“I’m not,” you answered with the same tone, eyes still very much closed.

“You were going to, though”

“I’m sorry”

“Why?” he furrowed his brows.

“For trying to run away”, you answered swiftly to each question, surprisingly. As if all your walls had been brought down just by his simple, loving touch.

“No, why do you keep running away?”

Not so swift anymore, huh?

You stayed silent, not knowing how to answer his question without sounding like a little girl scared of the dark.

“Y/N” he said again, waiting for your answer. His hands moved from your arms to your hands, stopping both pairs from shaking and lightly intertwining your fingers.

You knew you had to come clean. It wasn’t fair to him for you to not give him answers, and not fair to you to keep feeling this angst. So, still very quietly, you answered.

“I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m gonna get hurt if I let you in or that I may hurt you if you let me in. Or both. I care about you so much and I don’t want to ruin our relationship because what we have is great but I also really want to be with you and love you but then I’m also scared because of what I just sai—” your ramble being cut off by Harry’s chapped lips.

His hands held both sides of your face, making you feel secure in his embrace and the soft kiss radiating adoration. He poured everything he felt for you in it, only hoping you could feel it too and that it would bring you out of that fear that had you so trapped in yourself.

He broke the kiss, lightly running his thumb over your cheek and reassuring you immediately.

“With me? Darling, you don’t have to be scared with me. I promise you I feel the exact same way, I love you so much and the last thing I want or will do is hurt you, but I can’t let you get away anymore. I want to make you feel loved and make you feel happy and I want everyone to know you’re mine and that I’m yours. Please let me do that, Y/N. Let me love you the way you deserve to be and I promise you won’t—”

It was you who interrupted him this time. During his small speech, you felt safe enough to open your eyes and see him. You saw the honestly and frustration in his face, desperately wanting you to understand how he felt. It made you realize  that you would rather spend a few moments loving each other than the rest of your life watching him with someone else, not knowing what could have been.

“Okay,” you said after parting ways.

“Okay?” he asked you, eyes frantically scanning your features for any sign of doubt or humour.

“Yes. Yes, let’s do it!” you giggled, him mirroring your actions and pulling you into his chest for a tight hug. He buried his face in your hair and yours in his chest, feeling relief course through him at the idea of you being taken by none other than him. Just holding each other, you were about to share another kiss until a random voice interrupted you from behind,

“...can I use the bathroom now?”.

[skywardscroll]

divine intervention | venti

✧ word count: 2.5k

✧ summary: baring witness to world can become wearisome. venti, though you don’t really know him, wants to help.

✧ warnings: really angsty with some fluff thrown in! the reader has depression / there is self-deprecation. reader is also afab!

✧ a/n: this is so sweet >-< . i’m really proud of this one! also, writing klee is literally the funnest thing ever lol. <3 hope you guys enjoy!!

Teyvat, as you’d come to learn through your years, was a dangerous, merciless world. Every day, people lost their fathers, sisters, friends, and lovers. The world was full of greedy bandits and vicious monsters, and it only seemed to be getting worse as the days went by.

This last adventure out to Liyue had really taken the optimism out of you; Growing weary from traveling, you returned to your home in Mondstadt quite exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Was there any other facet of you that could be exhausted? Because you were sure that it would also be stricken with strife.

You told the Adventurer’s Guild that you were temporarily retiring from your work to take a well-overdue vacation from fighting and the ever-arising political strain you witnessed every time you left the City of Freedom. You just wanted to enjoy your safe corner of the world, at least for the summer.

The (admittedly strange) way you decided to do this was by staying indoors with your books, sometimes going entire days without once stepping into the sunlight. It was a pleasant way to spend the time, but you knew it was unhealthy.

Your books, when the main characters shared similar habits to you, called this behavior ‘depression.’ Though, you willfully ignored this, pretending that this was normal of someone with a heavy heart (just a heavy heart. Not all the other symptoms that you were falsely denying you had, like an aversion to engagements with friends, or a neglect of hydration.)

It was one of the hottest days in July, you remembered, when you heard a knock on your door. You contemplated answering it, thinking that maybe the Adventurer’s Guild would want you back to work prematurely. This was quickly disproven, though, when a small voice called from outside the door:

“Miss Y/N? Oh, Miss Y/N~! Please come out!”

Klee’s sweet voice seemed to somehow wrap itself around your heart and pull you towards the door.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hesitated, knowing that once you saw that endearing child’s round eyes, you would be forced to play outside with her for as long as she wanted you to. You loved Klee dearly, and would do anything for her, even if you didn’t necessarily wish to go along with it. But you really didn’t feel like leaving your house, knowing that the Freedom Festival was currently in full swing.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” You recognize a second voice to belong to Grandmaster Jean.

Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to see Klee’s face light up as she excitedly pulled on Jean’s hand.

“She opened the door! She did! I told you Y/N would open the door!”

“Y/N!” Jean said, obviously surprised by your appearance. “It’s so good to see you’re well.”

“It’s good to see you two, as well.” You said with full honesty. You hadn’t realized it until you saw them before you, but you had certainly missed seeing your friends.

“Y/N! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the Freedom festival with us! There’ll be food, and music, and I overheard Rosaria saying something to Kaeya about special drinks!”

“Oh… I don’t know…”

“Come on! It’ll be fun! They have this game, and it has a prize that looks like a biiiig dodoco! I want it but if you come you can have it!” Klee’s excitement makes a smile appear on your face.

“You should come, Y/N. It would be good for you, I think.”

You sighed a little, looking back at your book which sat with the pages down against the cushion of your reading chair, waiting to be returned to. But as if by design, the wind carried the smell of food into your door and your stomach rumbled. Besides, Klee’s eyes were bearing into your heart just as you predicted, and you could see Jean’s hand clasp onto Klee’s a little tighter in hopes that she wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

If you were to be frank, you had no idea what the difference between the Windblume Festival and the Freedom Festival was. To you, it just seemed like another concocted excuse to party. Which, in your youth, you never complained about, and you weren’t inclined to complain now, either, as Sara handed you a particularly delicious-looking chicken and mushroom skewer. You hadn’t eaten something like this in a month, and it was very welcome in your stomach.

“Over there! It’s Venti! Venti!” Klee went running ahead of you and Jean, who were idly speaking to one another as you finished off your food and threw the stick away.

“Klee! Don’t run off!” Jean called out, running after the young girl while you walked a bit behind, enjoying the scenery of Mondstadt decorated in flowers and it’s streets lined with vendors.

“Hi Klee!” You looked up and saw a man hug Klee tightly (a boy? He was quite short, but you were pretty sure he was an adult.) It was hard not to notice the golden lyre in his hand and how the strings seemed to be luminescent. You’d never seen anything like it before, and accidentally stared at it in clear awe.

“Do you play?” He asked, a smile that seemed to lift your heart was directed to you after the question left his lips.

“No… Not anymore. I tried to learn when I was a child but…”

“That’s alright. It takes a lot of practice, yeah?”

You let out a breathy laugh and nod, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jean scooped up Klee into her arms before she could run off again. “You two haven’t met before?”

“Sadly no.” Venti said, placing his hand over his heart. “I would’ve remembered such a beautiful face, surely.”

Bard’s and their sweet words. You thought to yourself. Out of kindness, you only laughed in response to his compliment.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Ahh! I’ve heard of you! The exceptional adventurer!”

Why does this guy say everything so enthusiastically? Is this what you used to sound like? His way of speaking, though you felt guilty for it because you knew he couldn’t help it, grated against your nerves. You weren’t in the right mindset for his optimism. Or, perhaps, it was that you were jealous that he still had a hold on his, and so easily too, while it had been so long since you were excited about anything.

When you didn’t say anything, there was a small look in Venti’s eyes that told you he could see right through you, or that he was at least aware that something was wrong with you.

“Well, I ought to be on my way back home.” You said, causing Klee to whine out.

“Y/N~! You can’t go yet! What about the giant dodoco?”

You frowned, feeling guilty for letting Klee down, but feeling too exhausted for any more socialization.

“At least stay for a song, Y/N?” Venti offered with a quieter tone of voice, pointing to a chair that was left unoccupied by the gathering crowd around him.

“Yeah! Just one song~?” Klee pleaded.

You bit the inside of your cheek before eventually nodding and sitting in the chair. Klee let out a cheer of celebration as Jean sat down beside you, letting Klee sit in her lap. You noticed how Jean had been particularly silent throughout this. Did she feel bad for you? Or did she, too, want you to stay for some reason?

“I’ll sing a very special song for a new friend!” Venti announced to the audience, to which you blushed a little at the attention and rolled your eyes. Though, once Venti’s fingers started gracing the strings of his harp, all feelings of discomfort and irritation floated away.

“Sit here closely, let me tell,

of the young maiden’s heart who one day swelled.

The once frozen walls, the once salty tears,

Now gone with a kiss that she wished had lasted years.

In the times of old, long before the gods were bold,

there was no remedy for a heart gone cold.

The young maiden wandered, hoping for peace

from the heartache and unrest the world did unleash.

Did she find it, you ask? Did she find it? I’ll tell.

She found it in freedom, from freedom it fell.

For Barbatos did bless her, from under the Windrise tree,

She only had to meet him in the morning at three.

The warmth she had searched for, that unlike she had ever known

was hers, finally, to own.”

The crowd clapped for Venti as he finished his short song, one that was unfamiliar to you and unsettled you to no end.

What was his motive?

You weren’t stupid. You’d read enough of your books in the last month and been on enough adventures with a multitude of twists and turns to know that he had just come up with that song for you. As beautiful as it was, you felt uncomfortable with the stranger being able to see through you so well.

Yet, when he flashed you a cheeky smile while he reveled in the applause, you felt that he had good intentions. In fact, you wondered if he could do any wrong. He just didn’t seem like the type to do anything evil… Ever.

“Did you like it, Klee?” Venti asked, bending down to talk to the girl who wriggled excitedly in Jean’s lap.

“Yes! It was sooooo pretty! I’ve never heard it before!” She gushed.

“A very lovely song, indeed, Venti.”

“Thanks Jean!” Venti flashed her a confident grin.

“Well, Y/N! Thanks for staying for the show!” He said, standing back up and turning to you. “I hope I can see you again soon!”

“Yeah. See you soon.” You replied with a half-hearted tone.

You were entirely conflicted. Your mind was telling you no; You shouldn’t go out there tonight. It was dangerous and you were significantly out of shape to be dealing with slimes and hilichurls. Besides, it was just a song… What if you were reading too much into it? And what if… You just wanted him to be singing about you and him?

Your heart wanted that to be true. It’d be like the books you’ve been reading, where the prince comes up with some elaborate way of asking the maiden to meet him in secret. You were, no matter how hardened you became, a hopeless romantic at heart. Something about Venti made your heart soar from the pits of depression you had fallen into. You… Trusted him.

You could do with a late-night walk, you supposed.

It took longer than usual because of the festivities, but the city eventually fell silent as everyone either rested in their beds or in a tavern. You found walking in the empty city strangely comforting. Rather than being shut away from the world out of fear of pestering others, you could now walk freely without a single care, if you so pleased.

You took your time walking out of the city, smiling at every stray cat and even stopping for a moment at the bridge to admire the water. You missed how, when you were a young girl, you used to look at the lake and dream about visiting all the other lakes in the world. You’d seen a lot of them, now, but this one still held a special place in your heart.

Windrise, though it had been years since you visited the Archon Statue, was as beautiful as ever. The tree looked even more alive in the moonlight, if it were possible.

You were raised to believe that you were under the protection of Barbatos, though you never would call yourself devout. That title belonged to the sisters of the church, who were truly faithful to Barbatos. But you would feel comfortable saying you were a believer. You liked that Barbatos was so just, and his famous story of his liberation of old Mondstadt was a tale you frankly would never tire of.

Regardless, as you sat in front of the statue, you saw no signs of the charming bard from before. You wondered if he memorized that tale of Barbatos; A part of you wanted to hear him tell it.

“I’m a fool, aren’t I?” You said, talking to the statue (not talking to yourself.) “A silly, odd, hermit of a fool. One who shuts themselves away and avoids all their problems. How cowardly can I be?”

A peculiar phenomenon began: The words started pouring out like an uncontrollable waterfall. Once the self-deprecation started, it didn’t seem to want to end.

“My family was so proud to hear I was a part of the guild. They said that you – that Barbatos – had blessed me with the life of an adventurer – a life of freedom. Am I selfish to despise it? I don’t feel free. I feel heavy with all the troubles of the world. Outside Mondstadt it’s… Well, you’re a god, you know how it is.”

You hadn’t spoken much to anyone in over a month. You didn’t even know if anyone was listening. Was he listening? Did he see the tears starting to run down your face and did he hear the cracking in your voice?

“I feel like a joke. A witness to trouble without the power to make things right. It’s so… Frustrating. I hate myself because I hate the world. I’m so useless… So useless.”

And you cried, your head leant against the statue of Barbatos. The months of pain finally bubbled over and bared itself for the world and the gods to see. You were ashamed, and angry at yourself, but you let yourself cry. You cried up to the heavens, to Celestia. Was he watching? Listening?

“Y/N?” A voice softly spoke your name, but your sobs turned into wails immediately following and you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you wanted to.  You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and you hugged Venti back, breathing in his scent of Cecilia. He was so warm compared to the cool summer breeze that blew through the leaves above.

“I’m sorry.” You cried against his shirt; the words muffled but still understandable. There were so many apologies you were making with the single phrase: Sorry for crying, sorry for being rude. Sorry for shutting everyone who cares about me out. I’m sorry for being ungrateful. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You don’t have to hide your tears from me, okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle as he pulled your head away from his chest and wiped away your ever-flowing tears from your cheeks.

This went on for a while, him running his thumbs over your cheeks every few minutes and catching the tears. You felt so awful that he was witnessing you like this, he barely knew you. But something in you was saying that this was right. Trust him, this is where you’re meant to be.

You calmed down enough about an hour later that he felt he could speak.

“Everything will be alright, Y/N.”

You let out a jagged exhale. At this point, your jaw was numb, and you were developing a headache. Still, being in Venti’s arms brought you comfort unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was… Divine.

“Do you think he heard me? That he’s watching over me?”

Venti gave you the most assured, comforting smile you think is humanly possible. Brushing your hair from your face, he replied.

“I’ve never been so certain of anything.”

[forrests-waterfall]

Hello! Ik someone’s asked you before but I reallyyyy liked the Dynamic between them both sooooo I’d like to request regressor Tommy and caregiver Technoblade oneshot please ! Maybe something like he hasn’t regressed in a month and techno is worried about him and baby’s him! :3 thank ya <3

Little!Tommy and CG!Technoblade

A/N ;; To be honest, I’m not a fan of how I wrote this. I don’t know what it is about it that needs to be fixed either pfft. So I hope this is at least alright!!

CW/TW ;; Small mentions of Tommy’s exile, the pet names bubs, baby boy, and Toms being used. Also very very small mentions of pushing back headspace.

"Tech I'm home!" Tommy shivered from the outside cold as the door shut behind him. He had gone out to get some materials but had forgotten his jacket (aside from the one he was wearing already), so the trip was a short one. 

He didn't need a lot anyway, pretty much anything he needed the other had. After taking his sweater off due to the now warm temperature in the house, he looked up the latter. Techno hadn't replied to his--you could say announcement of him being home.

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, sure the other didn't say a lot when Tommy got home but there was at least an "alright" or a hum of acknowledgment. And it wasn't a big deal of course, he was just used to it he supposed.

He placed himself on the latter and climbed up  quickly, wanting to see what the other was doing. Maybe Techno was just making potions again and was too concentrated in doing so. That would make sense, Techno was almost always doing something work related.

He hopped onto the next floor and looked at the other. Techno wasn't making potions but he was sitting on a table reading a book. Must be another history book, what was it that Techno liked? Greek mythology? "Hey, Tommy" 

The younger smiled at the greeting, "what you readin'? Nerd stuff again I assume?" Tommy hopped onto the table and sat next to the other with his legs crossed.

Tommy actually enjoyed listening to Techno talk about stories and all kinds of other stuff, though knowing Tommy he'd never admit to it. It was just something about the way Techno spoke about it all, it had him intrigued him and he couldn't help but listen.

"Yes Tommy, nerd stuff" he turned the page and began reading along the lines of words again. Silence went between the two, Tommy  sometimes peeking over Techno's shoulder to look at the page he was on.

It was obviously  an old book as some parts of the pages were stained though not enough to make it illegible.  Tommy sighed as he looked away from the nonfiction/fiction (depends on what the person believed).

He hadn't realized how tired he was until he sat down, not only from the trip but he also didn't get much sleep the past week or two. It had only been around one to two months since Tommy moved in with Techno, which meant it was only one to two months since he got away from Dream.

Just thinking about it made him want to curl up and go into his safe place.  Now that he thought about it, he hadn't regressed in quite a bit. He either didn't have time to do it or just got scared about doing so. He didn't get to regress much at all during exile unless it was right before bed. Dream was just always there which made it a whole lot more difficult.

The blond knew that this was a safe place for him, Techno wouldn't judge him. Hell, Techno was his caregiver. Though Tommy didn't need anyone to take care of him--he was a big man, not a child! 

He hadn't even noticed he was chewing on his fingers while thinking, though the other had seen a bit ago but didn't want to question it right away. "Toms?" Tommy internally smiled at the simple nickname, Techno had started calling him that in little space originally but it became an all the time thing.

Honestly, tommy didn't mind. "Mm?" Tommy hummed in response, wanting to know what the other's question was.

Tommy's legs dropped from the edge of the table and began to swing, Tommy couldn't stand sitting still, and it didn't help he was starting to feel small. Techno stopped what he was doing and placed the book down.

"Are you little right now, Toms?" Techno's voice became much softer than earlier, Tommy immediately noticed that the other was using the tone he typically used when Tommy was in little space.

"No" Tommy shook his head in response. He wasn't little, he was just quiet. That's all.

Techno didn't believe the response he got, Tommy never really liked admitting that he was feeling small and the caregiver was more than aware of that.

"You don't have to lie to me, baby boy. It's okay to be little, I've noticed you haven't been for quite some time now" Techno knew how to make Tommy feel smaller, and Tommy wasn't necessarily complaining.

The blond huffed as he crossed his arms, looking a different direction rather than at Techno. The older hopped off the desk and took a step away, "whatever, I guess I'll just go color by myself in these new coloring books I bought" the pinkette's  playfully added as he began to take a few steps away.

Tommy perked up, new coloring books? He wanted to color! Plus they were new, maybe he'd give in to Techno. "I wan color!" Techno went back over to the little, "oh really?" Tommy nodded excitedly, he wanted to see the new coloring books! He wanted to try and color inside the lines! Techno picked the little up and sat him on his waist, "okay fine, if you say so!"

————————

"What color pencil do you want?" "Blue!" he handed the blue pencil to Tommy and watched him color whatever he was coloring.

It had been a good hour since Tommy got home, which was around 10pm. Techno checked the time to see it was now 11, which was pretty late for the other. Tommy's usual bed time when in little space was usually 9pm, though today was a bit of an exception.

Even if an exception, again it was still late and he couldn't let the little stay up much longer. He could tell Tommy wasn't getting enough sleep anyway by the purple bags under the blond's eyes. Not to mention the little has been acting tired the past few days now.

"Wha you thinkin' about, Tech?" Tommy stopped Techno from thinking any further into it, "nothing Toms, you don't have to worry about it" Techno ruffled the other's hair which resulted in a pout. "Otay" he extended his Y as he went back to coloring, "need red p'ease".

Techno handed him the wooden coloring tool, "Tha purple!" Tommy giggled--the hybrid looking at the pencil and sighed, he handed Tommy the correct one this time.

Looking back at the time, it was now 11:13pm. Techno could also tell that the other was getting sleepier, with the constant rubbing of his eyes and yawns coming from him.

"Maybe we should head to bed, bubs" Tommy surprisingly didn't refute against it, he was done with his coloring page and couldn't think of anything to do.

He sat himself up and made grabby hands at his caregiver. This resulted in the hybrid cooing as he lifted the little and rested him on his waist like earlier. He carefully went down the latter, making sure not to drop the little just in case he decided to move.

Once in Tommy's room, he set him down on his bed and covered him with the red blanket the little had. Tommy grabbed ahold of a sheep plush he owned and hugged it to his chest, "Ghost!" he giggled while continuing to cuddle with the stuffed animal.

"Sippy or baba today, Toms?" the little responded by lifting up a single finger, which silently told techno he wanted a sippy cup.

Techno went back up a couple rooms, fetched a red and white sippy cup and filled it with apple juice. Tommy had preferred to drink some type of juice before bed rather than milk.

The hybrid went back to the little's room and handed him the cup filled with juice. Tommy smiled and took ahold of the cup and began drinking it.

"You want me to read you a bedtime story, bubs?" the other took the top of the cup out of his mouth and nodded excitedly. Techno had many and many stories memorized, so usually a book wasn't needed. He sat down beside the little and began thinking. "A'tena!" Tommy smiled and set his plush down beside himself.  "You want to hear about a Greek God?" Techno was double checking just in case they weren't talking about the same person.

The little clapped excitedly with a couple nods, "okay settle down," Tommy nodded one last time before he stopped and began to listen. "where do I begin.." The caregiver began to think, not wanting to make this boring for the other. "Wha she do?" Tommy tilted his head slightly to the side while letting out a yawn. Techno believed he understood was Tommy had asked and cleared out his throat as Tommy snuggled into his caregiver's side.

"Well, Athena protected a city long long ago called..."