#now i have the emotional fuel to finish the rest of the characters left for the collage gifsets!!

[fukutomichi]

The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power / S1 / 2 Sep. 2022 - 14 Oct. 2022 Lloyd Owen as Captain Elendil

[aurorafables]

From the Grey, Chapter 7.

“By the way, I'm Nicholas,” I tried to lighten his mood a little. “My friends usually just call me Nick.”

The boy finally stopped and slowly turned towards me. He brushed his hair away from his face with long, thin fingers, revealing dark eyes, pouty pink lips, and the sweetest nose I'd ever seen.

Hi everyone! Here is a new part of the story with sweet moments between the boys 🥰�� and some angst from the past.

Have a nice week! 🙂

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts

Tags: M/M, M/F, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic, Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism

Word Count: 4.4k

Cross-posted: AO3

7.

The next morning we had a small breakfast and packed up before we left. I quickly got rid of the rental car at the nearest drop-off point and we drove most of the way in Noah's car. We listened to music, Noah singing Taylor Swift while drumming his tattooed fingers on the steering wheel, and I watched him sleepily out of the corner of my eye, my head resting on the headrest of the seat. It was especially good that I didn't have to drive much, because I didn't sleep well that night. Although I reassured myself that nothing had happened - and this was also confirmed by the fact that Noah showed the same - negative emotions still swirled in me. Guilt that Maya deserves better than me. I'm afraid one wrong word or touch and I'll lose Noah because there's no attraction worth even risking our friendship for. I started whipping myself over and over when I thought about it. I can't act so stupid, I'm a grown man who has been in a serious relationship for almost eight months now, not a stupid little teenager who has no idea about the world. 

“Everything is alright? You're very quiet today," Noah remarked, turning down the radio, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I slept badly,” I answered in a hoarse, sleepy voice, and at least I didn't lie to him with that.

“We will stop at the next gas station. I'll buy you a coffee,” he promised and smiled kindly at me, which I tried to return.

"I might not be the best company today," I said apologetically.

“You don't have to talk to be good company,” he looked at me sideways from under his sunglasses. "It calms me down when you're near me," he added much more quietly.

I pursed my lips, closed my eyes under my sunglasses, and wished he wouldn't be so nice to me all the time. It was as if his comment had fueled that strange feeling in me, which was pleasant, but I had to suppress it as soon as possible, because it would only cause my loss in the long run. 

After a few minutes we pulled into a gas station parking lot, but Noah didn't get out of the car immediately. He unbuckled his seat belt, took a deep breath, and turned to me.

“I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday,” he began, which immediately made me pay attention to him, and suddenly the dream escaped my eyes. “My morning wasn't the best, and then…” he shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes “and then Karin called me saying she wanted to meet.”

Oh. I didn't expect him to talk about it, even though I could have learned by now that if I gave him enough time, sooner or later he would pour his heart out.

“What did you say to her?” I asked breathlessly.

“I said it's over. Everything, that was between us.”

My mouth twisted into a proud smile.

“I think you made the right decision. You've already finished it once, there would be no point to continue and hurt each other.”

"Yeah…" he said thoughtfully.

I swallowed the thoughts of how badly the girl had affected him, and that he could find a thousand better women than her if he wanted to, because I really didn't really know what kind of mental state he was in, and I felt that it would not be constructive at that moment. 

“If you want to talk about this or anything else, I will be happy to listen to you at any time,”I said instead of my judgmental thoughts. Noah's grateful look made it worth it.

“Thank you. I don't know how to thank you for caring so much about me.”

“For a start a big cappuccino will do,” I joked with him to lighten both of our melancholic moods. Noah smiled but still didn't go. I could see he wanted to speak about something else.

“About what happened in the afternoon… I think it's also due to my fucked up mood.”

I blinked a few times and remembered our conversation two days before when we slept in the same room after stargazing and Noah apologized even then, though he didn't say exactly why. I felt that it would be no different now, but something told me that it would be better for both of us if I didn't mess this up. Besides, I felt equally responsible.

"Yesterday afternoon was particularly good," I said honestly, because no matter how messed up the ending was, we laughed and talked a lot before it, everything was almost the same as before.

Noah pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and scanned my face.

“So isn't that why you're in a bad mood?”

I'm in a bad mood because we almost kissed in the lake, completely attached to each other's bodies? Because I almost cheated on my girlfriend with my best friend? Or because I loved every minute when our bodies touched? Is the reason for this messed up mood that I get into the room, half lying on the floor, because my cock was throbbing so much after hearing his moans that I didn't even have the opportunity to sit on the bed? Or because of all the fucking sexy things my brain was creating and he was the main character in all of them? I have no idea what exactly the question was about.

“I'm tired, I could sleep here in the car, only my neck would hurt,” I answered. “Tomorrow, after a long sleep, everything will be much better.”

I really believed in this, because when I'm rested, it's much easier to cope with any test that life throws at me. Maybe I felt tired and bored, that was just a bad move and I could screw everything up - if I haven't done it yet - but tomorrow, fresh, I will definitely see things in a better light. 

"Okay," Noah agreed thoughtfully, then grabbed his wallet and hopped out of the car. “A cappuccino, as you said. Anything else?” he asked with a smile as he leaned in the door.

“A chocolate chip cookie, please.”  I returned his smile when he nodded. 

He put on his sunglasses and pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head. While he went into the store, I got out to stretch my legs and smoke a cigarette. 

I was already getting back in the car when I saw Noah exit the small shop at the gas station and start heading back, but it seemed I wasn't the only one who noticed. He was stopped by a middle-aged woman with long red hair and a younger girl. I could tell by their body language how excited they were when they started talking. His presence has probably made their day better, but maybe even their whole week. I watched him as he bent down a little so the height difference would not be too disturbing, as he smiled restrainedly, but kindly, and paid attention to them. I felt a pleasant feeling move in my chest because I was in such an advantageous position that I could receive this attention at any time. Noah nodded, then smiled as they took a few selfies, he held the phone with his long arm. He pulled his hoodie up over his forearms, the muscles on which were tense and his dark tattoos glistened in the sunlight. His hair fell forward as they checked to see if the pictures were okay, and I wondered if I had ever felt as much desire for another man as I did for him. The answer was clearly no. 

In high school, we were told a thousand times that we were gay because of our long hair and eccentric style, but I never seriously thought about the possibility, because for me the girls were interesting enough, anyone could say anything. Our friends also looked at us strangely when they found out that I lived with my best friend, but they didn't ask about it too much. Did Noah feel the same way? I remember a long time ago, at a party, he kissed a guy, but it was just a silly, drunken challenge, not a real kiss, and it didn't last more than a few seconds. He always had girlfriends and it never occurred to me that he might even be bisexual. And then there was Noah's mom…who loved to attack our friendship and all the good things that happened to her son.

It all started when two boys started teasing Noah at school, and one of my friends and I listened to it all. They made rude comments about his hair and figure, and when that didn't get enough of an impact and reaction, they started teasing him about having Asian blood in his veins. He was told that it was indeterminate whether he was a boy or a girl, just like in Japanese anime. I think this was the point where even though I hated conflict, I had to step in because I absolutely loved anime. And I didn't understand why you couldn't leave a boy alone who just wanted to write his homework. 

It only took a couple of well-selected sentences from Davis and a few condescending glances from me to make the young boys go away in defeat. They wisely decided that it was pointless to confront the three of us, especially since my friend and I were several years older. We had a fist-bump with Davis, who immediately left for class, and only then did I turn to the boy, who got up from the bench and started packing his things back into his bag. His hair fell into his face as he leaned forward, his movements looking nervous. I've never been the type to initiate acquaintances. I hated big company and could only really open up to a small circle of friends, but… I felt I had to open up to him. Little did I know then that I was making the best decision of my life. 

“By the way, I'm Nicholas,” I tried to lighten his mood a little. “My friends usually just call me Nick.”

The boy finally stopped and slowly turned towards me. He brushed his hair away from his face with long, thin fingers, revealing dark eyes, pouty pink lips, and the sweetest nose I'd ever seen.

"I could have dealt with them alone," he declared instead of introducing himself. I wasn't mad at him though, I knew he was still in passive aggressive defense mode.

“I know,” I answered and smiled cautiously. I didn't want him to feel like I was laughing at him. “But I am desperately collecting friends who like anime.”

With this, I managed to remove some of the storm clouds from his face.

“How many friends do you have like that, Nick?” he asked with interest, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“I hope you will be the first,” I answered honestly, for which I received a bright smile in response.

"Noah," he said, twisting his fingers, turning his gaze to the ground. "I mean, that's my name," he added, laughing nervously, looking up at me again. 

"Noah," I said his name, just to know how it felt. I loved it. 

In the weeks that followed, Noah easily fit into my group of friends. No one really noticed that he was three years younger than us. Even then he was almost as tall as me, and much more mature than his age would have suggested.

The summer holidays were approaching, the students were less and less focused on studying and wanted to stay more and more outdoors. I couldn't wait for the bell to ring from our last class on Friday and it would be the weekend. Not because I wanted to party - I've never been a party animal - but so that I can finally get a good night's sleep and draw as much as I like. I was decorating the edge of my notebook throughout math class, and when the bell finally rang, I was one of the first to get up, threw my things into my bag, said goodbye to the two boys I had been friends with for years, and stepped out into the hallway. Noah was leaning against the railing waiting for me, drinking a can of Coke and smiling when he saw me.

"Thanks for waiting," I told him as we walked out of the building. “This math class was dead boring.”

"I can't say that this was the most exciting day of my life either," he answered, smoothing his shoulder-length brown hair behind his ears. “But maybe it will get better from now on.”

“For sure. It is even more fun to sit in the church and listen to the teacher about nonsense.”

"Brr, don't even mention the church," he said with disgust on his face. I laughed to myself as he wrinkled his freckled nose, pursed his lips, and was visibly sick of even the thought. He said that his grandparents, with whom he lived, were very religious and forced him to participate in church work, even if it’s about repairs or fundraising.

We walked down to the front of the building when a bunch of young boys turned to us and giggled as we passed them. I saw in Noah that he was uncertain for a fleeting moment, but then he kept his head up and walked confidently.

“You shouldn't show off with me,” he remarked when we left the gate. “You must have noticed that I am not the most popular student.”

“Don't think I'm afraid of your classmates in diapers,” I snorted, touching my pockets. I couldn't wait to finally light a cigarette. I found the box with the lighter inside and took out a cigarette. I noticed Noah reach out his hand as well, causing my eyebrows to rise to the center of my forehead.

“What is that?” Noah asked.

“Aren't you too young for that?”

He just rolled his eyes, then grabbed my wrist where I was holding the box and took out a cigarette. He lit it with practiced movements and blew the first puff of smoke into my face, making me roll my eyes. 

“Just because you're older, you don't have to play the adult.”

“Just because I smoke is not an example to be followed,”I retorted, but I couldn't take this conversation seriously either, and by the end we both laughed at each other.

“Don't worry, I already smoked before I met you.”

“Huh,” I squeezed my hand dramatically towards my chest. “Now a huge stone fell from my heart. I was already beginning to think that I had led you into trouble during our short acquaintance.”

“My grandparents won't be coming home until Sunday,” Noah explained as we got to their house. I looked up at the two-story building, which was surrounded by a large, well-kept garden, and nodded approvingly. It was the first time I visited them, only three weeks had passed since we met in the schoolyard.

"I guessed you were a little prince," I said with feigned seriousness. The house was about twice the size of the one I lived in with my parents and four siblings. Noah snorted, but didn't answer anything, he just opened the door with his key, and then we entered the hall one after the other. Even next to the coat hanger, the face of Jesus greeted me on the wall. It seemed that Noah was not exaggerating when he spoke about his grandparents' religiosity. I kicked off my shoes and continued to look around while Noah struggled with his tangled shoelaces.

“Who is she?” I asked, pointing to a beautiful woman in one of the paintings. Her brown hair was at least down to her waist and she wore a blood red cloak over her long dress which she held in her hands at her chest.

"Mary Magdalene," Noah answered as he straightened up. “She…”

"Many people believe that she was Jesus' lover," said a woman's voice behind us, and we both turned on our heels in surprise. "Hello, I'm Noah's mother, Elizabeth," the owner of the voice extended her hand to me with a soft smile on her lips. Her light brown hair was tied back in a bun, her nails were painted bright pink, and she wore a short black dress that showed off her long thighs. She looked barely over thirty, I would never have guessed she was Noah's mother. I would have guessed it was his sister.

“Good afternoon. I'm Nicholas,” I shook her hand politely. Her skin was hot and slightly clammy, her grip strong. Then we both turned to Noah, who was standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest, not moving.

“Don't you welcome your mother?” asked the woman, raising the glass filled with whiskey she was holding to her mouth with a smile.

“Why are you here? “Noah asked, but his voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don't have the right to visit my son?” Since Noah didn't appreciate any reaction, she drained the rest of the drink from her glass and continued: “Your grandmother mentioned that you will be alone. I thought this would be the perfect time to get back together.”

When Noah told me about his bad relationship with his mother, I thought they didn't get along because of some sort of teenage rebellion. I never thought that Noah could act so cold with someone when I got to know him so friendly and kind in the last few weeks. 

I followed him up the stairs with furrowed brows as he started without saying a word to his mother. When we entered his room, he immediately locked the door and collapsed on the bed, broken. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't know she would be here.”

“It's okay,” I reassured him immediately and fell down next to him. "She doesn't seems that bad," I added, but I saw that pained smile on Noah's face that I haven't been able to get out of my head since, and I kept seeing it in my mind as his mother stabbed him in the back over and over again just to see him suffer. 

I stood up and walked over to the bookshelf to look through his manga. He said he would be happy to lend me any of them if I wanted to read them, and I chose two. Afterwards, I sat back next to him and we were talking about school, when my sketchbook, in which I used to draw, came up.

“Shall I show you?” I asked Noah. His face lit up as he nodded, so I reached for the ceiling and pulled my t-shirt over my head. Noah leaned very close to my shoulder, which was decorated with a fresh tattoo. My first tattoo, a beautifully crafted bird wing.

“I want to tattoo my entire arm,” I explained to him, while he touched my skin, as if he wanted to test whether it feels different over the tattoo. - I designed this too, and if I collect the money for it, we will continue. Maybe one day I'll be a tattoo artist, who knows…”

Noah nodded and struggled to break his gaze to look up at me.

“Your drawings are very good, there is no doubt that you have a talent for it,” he said honestly. “I want a tattoo too.” He bit his lip as he thought. Then he slowly pulled up his t-shirt and placed his index finger on one of the small scars on his chest.

“Do you think these could be covered? There was this car accident and… I broke a few ribs, and then in the hospital they put tubes in… here too,” he smoothed a hand over the side of his chest. “Although the doctors said that it will almost completely disappear by the time I grow up, I still want something on it.”

I didn't know that particular accident was so serious that he lost his father and everyone died except him. I had no idea, it had been many months have passed before he told me about that summer day.

 

“They can surely make it disappear,” I answered him, while my gaze involuntarily fell on his ribs, which almost pierced his skin. Noah might have noticed because he quickly readjusted his shirt and wrapped his arms around himself defensively. I hated myself for making him uncomfortable, it was the last thing I wanted. I also put on my t-shirt and smiled at him from under my eyelashes.

“Can I have some tea now?” I referred to his offer from half an hour before. Noah nodded enthusiastically, and while he ran down to the kitchen, I picked up one of the manga and started flipping through the pages. He left the door ajar, so I heard him approach cautiously after five minutes, probably to avoid spilling the contents of the mug on himself. I looked down at the bottom of the page I was reading, noted the page number, and closed the book. Then I heard Noah's mother's voice. His speech was slurred, I could tell even though he was half-whispering.

“Your grandmother must be proud of you for being gay. She must be happy to tell it in church.” The smile immediately melted from my face and I sat frozen on the bed. “Look at me when I talk to you!” Elizabeth didn't even try to suppress her voice.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Noah said quietly. His voice was laced with pleading and fear. My throat tightened. “Please…”

“More about who. Nicholas, if I remember his name correctly. Why would you bring a boy here and shut him up in your room?”

“Nick is my friend.”

“Who would want to be friends with you, baby?” asked the woman almost regretfully. “You are so naive, Noah. Everyone has an ulterior motive.”

My hands were clenched into fists, my blood pressure skyrocketed, and yet I didn't move. I was held back by my good upbringing, by the fact that my parents taught me to be obedient to adults. Later, I regretted a thousand times that I didn't stand by Noah and get him out of that family right away. That place was equal to hell on earth. I heard a door close and Noah finally entered the room. His hands were shaking, the tea between his fingers spilled onto the floor, but his face remained completely emotionless. I jumped off the bed and took the mug from him so he wouldn't drop it. This time, I locked the door and took out a pocket of tissue from my bag. He accepted without a word, wiped his hand, then threw it away and we sat next to each other on the bed.

"If you don't feel like staying, I won't be mad if you go home," he said without looking at me. He knew I heard every word of the conversation. His fingers dug into his thighs and his face went completely pale. I didn't really know what to do in such a situation. I felt uncomfortable, I was angry, but I wanted to help him feel good again. This was the most important thing, because over the weeks I slowly began to become completely addicted to his smile. I put the tea on the table and turned to him.

“Would you like me to go home?” I asked him because I had to know what he wanted.

Noah finally looked up at me. Unshed tears glistened in his eyes, his lips trembled. 

“No. I want you to stay.”

His voice was childish, not the confident teenager I knew from school. I quickly realized that it was just a disguise, but I was relieved to hear his answer, because I would not have liked to leave him alone with that woman.

“Then I'll stay,” I answered and slowly smiled. It took a few seconds for him to return the smile, and even though it didn't quite reach his eyes, I was satisfied with that. “Which anime would you like?” I stood up and started watching the DVDs packed under the TV.

“Choose something. Surprise me,” he replied with a slight challenge in his eyes.

It was the first and last time we went to their place after school. Afterwards, we always ended up at our house, and Noah didn't seem bothered by my loud brother, my hysterical little sisters, or the fact that the hot water kept running out late at night and we were forced to take cold showers if we were immersed in the conversation. If the milk ran out in the morning, he made his porridge with water and didn't complain if we had toast for lunch. I noticed how strange it was when mom or I hugged him. Like he doesn't know what to do with it all and is confused. But it only took a few weeks for all of that to change and he almost started demanding touches. 

Noah walked to the car and turned back to make sure no one was following him before getting in. I followed his approaching steps with half-closed eyes, trying to figure out what had changed. Where was the tipping point when I started finding him attractive. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't figure it out and that only made me more frustrated. Noah got in and handed me the coffee and the paper bag, then pulled the hood off his head. 

“I hope it didn't get too cold,” he said with an apologetic smile.

I tiredly returned his smile and handed the biscuit back to him.

“Half of it is yours. And thank you.”

He didn't argue for a second that I wanted to share the dessert with him. He began to eat the cookie with gusto, while I drank my coffee thoughtfully.

“Noah…we'll be fine, right?” I suddenly asked out of nowhere. My voice sounded so scared that I was surprised by it. 

He looked at me confused, with a small crumb on his mouth that I was tempted to wipe off, but luckily he licked it off before I could move. He swallowed the bite and looked deep into my eyes. 

“Whatever happens, we will always be here for each other. You are the only sure point in my life. Believe me, I will do everything to be your sure point.”

I nodded and closed my eyes again. I think that was enough to make me feel better, if only a little.

[luckypies]

Sooooo y’all remember a bit ago when I said I’d post the completely unfinished never to be finished cuz it’s deleted fic????? I slept on it and here it is… Dwindling light in all its mediocrity

Dwindling Light

by Luckypies

Summary

Set in a post truce between both the Star and Bad Sanses, all was well but one thing became abundantly clear the one thing that everyone needed most had vanished. Too many questions and not enough answers surround everyone as slowly more and more evidence comes to light.

(tags will be added as chapters get published which includes the characters that are seen)

This is my first story if it's not obvious

Chapter 1

All anyone ever knew was the beginning of the end started with Blue. No one could have known that Blue was the energetic ball that held the others together. With him gone though, everything slowly but surely fell apart. Piece by piece, universe by universe, the news of what happened to “The Great Star Sans Blue” spread. When the news of Blue spread to more and more people the mood changed to grief, mourning, and disbelief, to anger. The overwhelming outcry to do SOMETHING grew louder and louder as the shift of feelings changed.

There was only one logical way for the group to proceed, they had to do whatever it took to find him. Both sides formed into one and truly put the new truce to the test as the search for Blue begins. The first place that they all went was the ex-star sans meeting hall to discuss how to even approach going to find where Blue went.

Surprisingly for how quiet and reserved he normally is, Horror was the first of the group to speak, “So we’re tryin to find Blue right?” he slowly drawled out “‘nd I ain’t to sure where ‘xactly to start lookin ‘nd all… but I know dat I ‘peak fer all of us when ima ‘top at nuthin to git Blue back”

Everyone looked around as Horror spoke with sparks determination in his eye light that fueled the rest of the skeletons around him with the same determined feeling in their souls. As what Horror said fully resonated with everyone, a chorus of agreement followed suit. After Horror, Classic was the next to speak.

“I feel like the first place we should start is by getting Dream and Nightmare involved since Blue spent a lot of time with Dream being one of the main Star Sanses and all. So, it- “

Cutting Classic off, Red interjected, “Now wait a sec, why should we get Nightmare involved at all since it’s Dream and Ink who was around Blue the most, aside from Stretch of course.”

Giving Red nothing more than a half-hearted glare, Classic continued, “As I was saying, the reason we should get both Dream AND Nightmare is because them together can feel the full spectrum of emotions and not just one or the other by JUST having Dream or JUST having Nightmare to help us.” Classic took one last glance at Red almost challenging him to oppose what he just said.

Red looked down and mumbled a quick apology. Classic looked back at Red chuckling quietly at the swift change in the edgy skeleton before him. The rest of the group glanced between the two skeletons sensing the small tension between them. Not wanting Red to feel at a total loss, Classic gave a light comforting pat on Red’s back. Looking up from his lap, Red gave a grin back at him.

“Ok… so does anyone know where t’ find either of ‘em? Or is this gon t’ be sum FUNKing goose chase tryin t’ find the SHEDheads?” Dust piped up “’Nd when the FUNK did Fresh get here?” He added glaring at the parasite.

“Aww c’mon my radical broski, ya should know dat it’s totes unrad to all up and be cursin like ya was doing just den.” Fresh spoke waving his finger in Dust’s direction “Plus ta answer ya burnin question dusty bro, who says I wasn’t ‘ere ta begin with ya know?”

Fresh’s left eyelight glowed as he continued talking to Dust as he inched closer and closer until he was face to face with Dust. Just as sudden Fresh’s shift in personality happened, he was back to his usual abnormal ways.

The first sound that broke the tense silence were muffled chuckles that tried and failed to sound like coughs. Tracking the source of the sound led the gathered monsters to Classic, blue in the face from straining to keep some level of composure.

“Jeeze definitely feeling the love, thanks Classic…” Dust said with a biting edge in his voice

“Heh, sorry there pally, but you have to admit from an outside perspective what happened was hilarious” Classic shot back.

“Yeah, sure FUNKing whatever” Dust mumbled “Ya may have a stupid SHEDy point, but ya didn’t have to be so smug bout it…”

Chapter 2

Both Dust and Classic butted heads softly with each other as the others watched with shocked amazement. Neither of the two showed any signs of backing down, and after several minutes of sharp words being hurtled back and forth with the only barrier being Fresh censoring the two. Before everything became too much to take back, Horror stood between the two bickering skeletons effectively forcing them to stop. "Could you two please 'top arguin wit eachudder cuz it's not gettin us nowhere...'nd we're wastin time dat could be 'pent lookin fer Blue"

"Sorry big guy; yeah sorry Horror" Both Dust and Classic quickly apologized and sat silently letting the heat die down.

As the minutes ticked by and a calm aura swept through the group, the conversations went back to looking for the missing sans. "So, we're already set to go looking for the two guardians, but I feel like we should have someone else as like a backup." a voice said from the crowd

"Dat's a good idea and all, but who was tha one who j'st 'poke? Cuz ya deserve tha credits." Red said looking out at the group.

The owner of the voice stood up and revealed himself, "Uh I guess thanks for thinking it was a good idea Red. Honestly I was just thinking of the most rational way to find Underswap sans." He said softly.

"Not to be rude 'nd all, but who the HECK are ya?" Red questioned.

"I'm surprised you don't know who I am, especially because most if not all of you here has met or at least knows of Reaper.... ahh anyway, the name's Geno"

All eyes turned to the sans known as Geno as he revealed who he was while Classic posed a question to him, "Wait your name's Geno.... like short for Genocide???"

"Heh ahh yeah it is, but I go by Geno rather than Genocide." He said without missing a beat.

"So what tha FUNK happened to ya dat yur eye is like... well like dat." Red motioned to his left eyesocket that seemed to glitch more as he motioned to it.

"Yeah... I'm not going to answer that bud, and before you or anyone else asks no I won't change my mind on it." Geno spoke with an unnaturally even tone. "Let's get back to what's actually important though instead of my appearance shall we?"

Remembering something suddenly, Dust spoke up "Wait so ya have a connection sumhow t' Reaper... like da FUNKING GOD OF DEATH REAPER???? how the FUNKing HECK are you alive?????"

"I mean it helps that I'm already dead so Reaper's death touch doesn't really work on me." Geno replied nonchalantly

With that simple reply from the all white clothed skeleton a symphony of chaos unfurled around the meeting room. The overwhelming shock that the skeleton in front of them breaks the laws of nature by being on the edge of life and death. Wanting the downward spiral of madness to subside, Geno pulled out his phone and called the god of death himself to come to the meeting hall. With a flash from a portal, Reaper appeared next to Geno silencing everybody as they stared in awe at the god before them.

"Heya there Gen! watcha need ba-" As Reaper spoke, a small voice interrupted the god by crying. "Hey it's ok little Gothy, do you want your mama? Huh did ya wanna see mommy?" Reaper cooed to a bundled blanket that was revealed to be in his arms. "Well how about it Gen? wanna give your son some motherly love?"

"You dork, what kind of parent would I be if I wouldn't take care of the kid? Give him here Reaps." Geno made a grabbing motion to the noisy bundle that laid in Reaper's arms. As the bundle moved, so did the volume of the cries. "Hey hey hey, Goth it's okay see? It's just me. It's your mama Geno!" He softly mumbled to the bundle as he lightly bounced it up and down. The crying slowly eased up and shifted to giggly babble as Geno continued his motions. "I guess I should take this opportunity to explain this" Reaper said motioning his arms to Geno. "If it's not obvious Geno and myself are a couple, and we have a kid Goth." Reaper shuffled the blanket around so that a small child's face appeared. "And well here's our little champ here!"

"Ok so lemme get this straight here... yur not only ina relationship with tha god of death... but it was a deep enough bond dat yous 'ave a FUNKing kid tah shows from it?" Red spoke as the scene unfolds in front of everyone.

"I mean yeah that pretty much sums everything up" Reaper confirmed looking between Geno and Red, "Although you could do a lot more without cursing in the presence of an impressionable child" He added looking at Goth.

"Anyway Reaps, other than proving a point, I have a question to ask of you. So you know Underswap 262 right?" "I mean is there any reason I wouldn't Gen?" "Heh fair point, but back to the point, the Sans from Underswap 262 is missing, and I was wondering if maybe you reaped any souls from a Swapverse recently?" "Sorry to say but as far as I remember I haven't had to reap any souls from a Swap universe recently...What happened that you needed to ask?" "Honestly the simple answer is that he's missing" "Oh..." Both Geno and Reaper said.

"Yeah so at least Blue isn't dead yah know. So like the bare minimum is that we can start looking and know for sure it wasn't for nothing." Classic rubbed his chin as he thought aloud.

"So 'ow did yu 'pose we go 'bout findin lil Blue den? Cuz sitin 'round 'ere ain't doin nuthin." Horror questioned.

As Horror posed the question the group of sanses fell silent, the only noises being Goth babbling to himself. The various sanses that were around the meeting hall lack of any plan became more and more obvious as the seconds ticked by. No body had an answer to what was a pretty essential question on the missing Sans.

"So we's are goin to goes 'n git the help of the two guardians 'n alls. 'ns cuz of Reaper we's know hows wherever Blue is, he's 'till alive, so's it'll not be like tha work's alls fer noth'n." Farm cut through the near oppressive silence by thinking aloud. As if realizing he was talking aloud and not just in his head, Farm jerked his head up and looked at everyone around him as a green blush spread across his cheekbones "Sorry y'all's I uh didn't means ta 'peak like that heh... I wuz jist tinkin aloud 'n alls dat sorry y'all." Farm rubbed the back of his neck as his blush spread further across his face.

"Ey ya don't gotta worry about it yah know? I mean both you and Classic over there just pointin out tha fact that our efforts ain't fer naught. I can't say that it's tha same fer everyone, but I can say that it's a good reassurance fer me jist hearin it said aloud." Red softly patted Farm's back as he spoke.

"Tanks fur that Red didn't knows I needed it heh..." Farm mumbled as he subtlety leaned into Red's touch.

"So we 've a start of a plan wit gettin the guardians, but who should be the one to break th' news to them? Cuz 'm not too sure either of 'em would take tha news that well cuz I knows wif boss evn tho he never showed it, he did 'ave a soft 'pot fer little Blue 'nd i'm not gonna be the one to break it to him 'bout what 'appened" Horror spoke as a softness appeared in his burning eyelight for the briefest of moments.

"Well damn who woulda guessed that someone like Nightmare would care for someone in any sort of capacity." Red said as he went slack jawed in amazment.

"Now now now broski ya shouln't be all up and judgin others like dat. It's totes unrad ta be doin dat just like cursin. Dey are both tings dat ya shouldn't be doin ya know? broseph." Fresh with his faux enthusiasm all but exclaimed at Red as his glasses flashed from the usual YOLO to UNRAD.

"Yah sure whatever Fresh sorry fer judgin people eventhoheistheliteralembodimentofnegativityandprettymuchdeservesit." Red apologized with heavy sarcasm oozing from his voice.

With nothing more than a quick accusatory glance between both Fresh and Red, Reaper jutted in "Well if I may propose something I would say that you should try and get the help of not only the guardians, but also the Protector and Destroyer too. With them added, they'll be able to comb through the multiverse faster than any of you mortals could."

"So we's are gonna be needin ta git tha 'elp of four pretty much gods much like yerself which we's don't even know if they'll even 'elp us jist fer tha chance ta possibly find Blue? 'nd dun git me wrong I wanna find 'im too, but it jist seems like alot of work fer one monster..." Farm said as he looked at the god before him.

"Well I'm not to sure on how you folks want to go about doing it, but here's my 2g on how you should go about getting the help of the gods that you want..." Reaper commented nonchalantly as he looked at the crowd of sanses who looked back at him with apt interest. "...And yeah that's about it on what I suggest you folks should do to both track down/find and get the four gods on your side to find Swap 262." Reaper concluded his plan as an ever growing smirk emerged on his face.

All that was left to do is follow, as closely as they could, the helpful advice that Reaper had laid out for them. For everyone around the room, it seems like for once during the entire impromptu meeting things were actually starting to look up.

Chapter End Notes

:) hope you enjoy the ending there ~

[min-jpg]

can i request zhongli , kaeya and xiao with a fem!s/o that comes from an extremely rich family and the boys get kidnapped and held for ransom and then out of nowhere their s/o comes and beats the group of people that kidnapped the boys , gracefully😋😋

Note: we stan a baddie s/o! Anyways, enjoy the drabbles with a word count averaging 0.5k for each character :) I'll make the setting at an abandoned warehouse, classic

---

Kidnapped Genshin Boys x Fem Rich!reader pt.1

Part 2 (Childe, Diluc, Kazuha)

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli

Genre: fluff, established relationship, some woman kicking ass action, (TW: mentions of blood and violence)

---

KAEYA

Your boyfriend would deliberately act like a damsel in distress with no fighting aptitudes. Exaggerating his emotions to fabricate fear, he voluntarily let himself be held hostage, thinking they caught an easy target. Kaeya went along with his abductors' antics because he intends to bring them down once they reach the hideout.

While they were camping in the warehouse, Kaeya was not worried at the slightest. These people were no vision bearers, just mere greedy criminals that do not know who they were messing with.

Kaeya is aware of how affluent you and your family are. He already anticipated something similar to happen one day. Lowly tactics like these do not budge him at all, especially his unyielding loyalty towards you. As if the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonious would be shaken by something as childish as this.

While he was improvising a plan in his mind, one of the men yelled, "Intruder!"

They all assembled at the source, but glanced at each other in confusion, "Intruder? Where?"

While an altercation sparked between them about the unseen intruder, their attention successfully diverted away from Kaeya. Thus, using the containers and blind spots to your advantage, you sneaked your way towards your boyfriend. While freeing Kaeya from the ropes that bound him to the chair, you giggled as well, "Are you lost, baby boy?"

Your unexpected appearance left him stunned, but it was a pleasant surprise, "Lost in those eyes, baby girl." He smirked back. By the time you finished, the men realized that the intruder was you.

Now that you are actually here, Kaeya's concerns began sprouting because he wanted to ensure your safety first before carrying out his plan since your arrival was not formulated in it.

You fueled his worries when you stepped forward towards the group. You dropped the bag you carried along in front of them, "Here. You wanted the money right? Take it."

"Well, that wasn't so hard." The gung ho group laughed boisterously among themselves, the leader leaning down to pick up the bag. You swung your foot, landing a clean kick on his face which caused him to stumble back. He pressed his nose, blood trickled down, "You-"

You refused to let him finish by sending another vigorous kick, this time at the center of his stomach, causing him to hunch as he grabbed onto his stomach and surpassing his coughs. To finish it off, you plunged your elbow down the back of his head and connected with an uppercut. The force was strong enough to send their leader flying back and never stood up again, completely knocked out.

The rest of the gang blinked. It was not even a fight. You took him down with only a few moves, barely breaking a sweat.

"You guys want some more? Or just take the money and leave us alone." You taunted them. They hustled along, grabbing the bag, and left their leader in the warehouse. Little did they know, the bag was not filled with money, but just some rocks to give it some weight.

Kaeya walked up behind you, clapping his hands, "That was superb, babe. I didn't know you were such a fighter." Needless to say, Kaeya is so proud of you and praised the way you executed your beautiful course of movements. He will also keep in mind to never mess with your temper too much in the future.

XIAO

Your boyfriend could take out all the adversaries he wanted to, driving them to regret that they wished they never premeditate this abduction. Unfortunately, his hands are tied because the group threatened that harm would come your way instead if he did not comply with their demands.

"You just have to sit here until your girlfriend bails you out. I'm sure she has some extra cash to blow to save you."

You did warn Xiao beforehand that similar incidents happened in the past and it is bound to occur again, to which he glazed over as a simple matter since he is confident with his combat experiences. But you did not explain how the incidents were settled. Xiao did not know that you have the capability to defend yourself, so obviously he reluctantly listened to them to protect you.

If they were to resort to hurting anyone, Xiao would rather have them hurt him instead if it meant they could spare you. He will never forgive them or himself if they even attempt to graze a single strand of your hair.

While worrying for your safety, he heard one of the men shouting a yelp, but it got cut off as his body fell, passing out cold on the ground.

The group huddled together, "Who's there?!" Their eyes darted around to search for the one responsible.

While they were bewildered, you jumped down from one of the containers at the warehouse, sending your knee flying directly towards one of the members to knock him down. In a kneeling position to pin the person below in place, you sent a swift strike to his neck, making him faint. As you stood up, the gang and also Xiao all looked at your abrupt appearance with wide eyes.

Glaring at the men in front of you, "Now, if any of you touched my boyfriend, one doctor visit wouldn't suffice." Without giving them any time to react or respond, your palm curled into a fist, dashing forward to begin taking them down one by one with your nimble feet.

Your calculative movements were sharp and precise, leaving no opening for your foes to attack. As the battle proceeded, your hair flowed gracefully behind along with your bold actions. Although Xiao was itching to help, he only managed to stare at you in awe, marveled by your bravery and poise stance that showed no weakness.

Before you both knew it, the fight ended with you emerging victorious.

You ran over to Xiao to free him immediately, "Oh archons! Xiao, are you okay?" Caressing his cheeks, you frantically inspected his face for any external injuries. Those men will face your wrath if they did anything to him.

Xiao was still processing what happened, his pupils fixed at you, lips parting, "That was really... amazing of you." He wanted to tell you that you looked so gorgeous that it made him breathless, but kept his mouth sealed after. For now, he enjoys the sensation of your hands that were used to unleash such fury now stroking his face so lovingly. It is also worth mentioning that Xiao has a new profound respect for your charming side that he never knew of.

ZHONGLI

Your boyfriend maintained a tranquil state of mind when he was kidnaped. Not portraying any signs of retaliation or profound panic, it even caused the group to be unnerved with how silent Zhongli behaved.

While held hostage, the head of the abduction blabbered about how they intend to lure you here, exploiting you through Zhongli's situation for some quick money grab.

Upon hearing that, Zhongli's eyebrows twitched in a displeased manner, "So you'd rather take advantage of someone for money instead of working for it? Don't you have any dignity left?"

"Obviously! If there's an easy way to earn money, who wouldn't want to partake? Someone as sheltered and rich as your girlfriend will never understand. Don't act like you never took money from her." They ridiculed his righteous morales by bringing you in the conversation, implying Zhongli only dated you for your status.

Zhongli leaned back against the chair with an inscrutable demeanor on his face. He knew that surely someone would point out the disparity in social status between you and him. But, if they thought he only valued your wealth and nothing else, then he will have to disappoint them.

"Oh, I'm very lucky to have a wealthy partner. Something you will never understand, yes? That's why you turn to disagreeable schemes such as this." Zhongli stalled time by making mindless talks with the leader.

Not appreciating Zhongli's remark, the leader raised his arm, ready to swing at full force to land a hit, except you obstructed him. Appearing out of thin air, you found your way towards Zhongli and held a tenacious grip on the man's arm from behind before he could potentially scar your boyfriend's precious face.

The group was alarmed by your arrival and the way you constrained their leader's strike. Applying even more force to twist his arm, you contorted his limb. It caused him to arch his back and bawled in pain as he attempted to wriggle his arm out of your grasp. In contrast, you reinforced your strength and kicked the back of his knees.

Once you let go, everyone watched him squirmed in agony on the ground with your grip leaving a red imprint on his arm. Turning your head towards Zhongli, you sent him a cheeky wink, "You're one lucky man indeed."

Now channeling your attention at the group, "Who's next?"

The group charged towards you, assertive that their strengths in numbers will have more odds in winning against you, a woman who stood alone.

Thus, to prove them wrong, not only did you beat their egos to pulps, but also the entire gang. Keeping a composed manner, your limbs carried your movement with great finesse and elegance. You dodged and blocked every incoming attack, never allowing them to get a clean hit on you. Your presence dominated the flow of the battle.

Eventually, only one victor is appointed, that victor being you.

You walked back to Zhongli to untie him. You placed your hand on your hip, huffing your chest to stand proud, "How was that? Not only is your girlfriend rich, but also powerful."

Zhongli nodded in agreement, softly patting your hair as he watched you with affectionate eyes, "That was a remarkable performance to remember down the road. Guess I have a lot of things to learn about you." Although Zhongli is fully competent to defend himself if things went wrong, he found it absolutely charming of you to protect him. You were reckless, but he acknowledges your ability to fight so gracefully.

[sunshineandcybertronians]

Make Your Choice - Megatron x reader x Starscream (TFP)

Word count: 2,621 Warnings: angst, conflicting feelings, major character death A/n:  Finished this in one day 9/21/19 at 11:01 PM (holy heck, that was a long time ago). I read pages 140-144 in Transformers Exodus. I never thought I’d write something that’s even slightly Megatron x reader, but here I am. But this oneshot turned out good.

"Where is he?" You searched the dark corridor of Nemesis for a friend.

As a Decepticon you served under Megatron, and Starscream at times. You were lucky enough to be close to both of them. Although Decepticons would never admit to having friends, you called them this secretly.

You were kind to everyone, even those you didn't know. It hurt you to think of anyone in pain. The majority of the Decepticons knew this, and it was miraculously pardoned thus you were given tasks that required no violence. Perhaps it was your soft words and consideration that made this so, finding a soft spot in the seemingly merciless Megatron. Starscream also respected this when he was in control for about three years.

It was very possible someone would question why you were a Decepticon with your nature being closer to an Autobot. This had occurred to you before, but you hoped to change the Decepticons. If everyone who was good left the Decepticons, there would be no chance of changing it to good in the future. Plus, most of your friends were on that side.

You looked through a doorway, he wasn't there either. "Where are you, Starscream?" You whispered to yourself. Well, you said friend earlier, but recently your feelings for him were becoming a little... different.

Since you finished some work sooner than you presumed, you now had free time that you intended to spend it with Starscream. Upon coming to a T in the halls, you paused to think of a plan. Snapping your fingers, you rushed in the direction of the medbay, to not waste another second of your time. Maybe Knockout knew where he was. Out of everyone he was the second closest to the second in command. While jogging, you remembered when you first started to develop feely for him.

Despite the fact you were kind-sparked, this didn't mean that you were not immune to frustration. At the point of time Megatron had just left on his journey through space, Starscream attacked a vehicon because he was dissatisfied with their lack of progress. For no good reason, out of anger.

"Hey!" You had barked at him, startling both him and the vehicons. "Don't do that. They did nothing to you."

He examined you with his red optics. A snarl and an un-amused expression decorated his faceplate as his tilted his helm back. Releasing the vehicon whilst shoving him away, he shifted his attention to you. He approached you, in attempt to intimidate you.

Your held your ground.

"And I believe you should be reminded of your place. You are a subordinate, who doesn't even have the fuel tank to draw energon. You don't tell me what to do."

"No! You listen!" When his servos flinched, you stepped forward to grab them to prevent him from attacking you. You shoved your faceplate near his, with barely any space apart. "They're on the same side as you. Don't hurt people for no reason. It's not nice." After your anger faded, you realized how close your face was. Energon rushed through you.

He smirked, which didn't help your flustered look. "Are you blushing, little femme?"

"No!" You stepped away.

You thought a little more and decided you wanted to clear something up before you left. "But you are a good leader. You just need to avoid letting your anger get the best of you. If you make emotional decisions, you might mess up your chance to succeed, like I know you can."

Shock filled his expression, his optics widening and eyebrows lifting at the thought you actually believed in him. He quickly regained his senses. "You mean like you did just now?" He showed teeth while displaying the irony.

You pursed your lips and averted your gaze to the ground. "Yes. Just like that," you mumbled.

And strangely enough, after that you had become very good friends with him and would have many conversations with him. Knockout would occasionally tease you for it.

Another example was before leaving Cybertron, when Megatron first learned of Dark Energon (unbeknownst to you and Megatron at the time, Starscream already knew of it long before and was attempting to learn more). He privately admitted to you, something you found shocking at the time, that he knew it was unwise to use the Dark Energon due to its unknown and most likely dangerous properties. Yet he felt it necessary to end the war. He, the gladiator, was tired of fighting. It nearly melted your spark and made you want to hug him in order to make him feel better. Then he said that maybe he would finally defeat the "treacherous Optimus Prime," which then caused you to want to call him an idiot since you knew Optimus never betrayed Megatron.

You had mixed emotions like that. If you wanted someone to be the best version of themselves and to be their friend, their flaws and evil mistakes made you upset for that same reason. This mostly fell under your emotions about Megatron or Starscream.

Your thoughts were put to an end when you reached your destination. Without missing a beat, you opened the door and marched right in.

"(Y/n)! Did you need repairs?" Knockout picked up one of the tools he was organizing.

"Hey, Knockout! No. I was wondering if you knew where Starscream was," you explained.

He chuckled, his finish reflecting what little light there was in the room. "Of course you came here to ask where your boyfriend was."

You stiffened. "He's not my boyfriend, we're just friends."

"You could've fooled me." The mech lifted his optic ridge, clearly not convinced.

"Do you know where he is?" You cut to the point again, wanting to leave the awkward conversation.

"I may," he answered wistfully, "but you may have to give me some more buffing solution as payment."

"But I just gave you some yesterday. In fact, I think you almost always get it from me, and I never ask for anything in return. By the time I get you more I'll have to go back to work."

"Just joking. He's heading to the energon supplies to check inventory." Knockout didn't even give you a glance as he picked up a buffer in the corner and spun the correct pad onto it. "Make sure you remember to propose to him."

"Knockout," you drew out his name in annoyance, almost out the door.

"Just kidding."

You rolled your eyes, mentally forgave him, and bolted to the direction of the energon stock. The clanging of your pedes hitting the floor slowed and came to a halt when the entrance was just on your right.

"Starscream?" You stuck your helm in and searched. Finally, your optics locked onto the thin seeker, with sharp features and expressive wings. He looked to you with surprise, his long digit hovering over the control panel that contained information on how much energon there was, how much was used in the previous month, and the chart of how much energon was found compared to other points throughout time on Earth.

"(Y/n)? Aren't you supposed to be organizing files right now?" He inquired.

"I was done early." You hopped into the room as the door slid closed behind you. It was now dark, except for the illumination from the energon. The way it dimly shown on him and cast shadows on the edges of his figure made him look even more attractive. You shifted and swatted away the thoughts in your head.

"So, what are you up to?"

"Nothing much," he groaned, waving his servo. "I was simply accessing the inventory to find if we had enough and needed to lower rations."

"Hmm. From what I read in reports, it's getting harder to find energon, but we found a good stock recently."

"Yes. I saw that on the chart." He nodded to the glowing screen.

Before you could stop yourself, you began admiring his wings. Then your gaze shifted to a part that wasn't quite as smooth as the rest.

"What's that scratch on your wing?" You exclaimed when you finally noticed it.

He bit his lip, looked to it, and shrugged. "I flew too low and my wing got clipped by a tree."

Studying the scrapes, you delicately traced your fingers on it. He winced in pain and reached to shove it away, but stopped when you flinched away on your own after seeing his reaction.

Letting, your servo fall softly onto the undamaged surface. His wings relaxed in please and a smile crept onto his face. You gently rubbed the spot below it and held his jaw with your other servo. He seemed to melt at your touch and closed his optics. His arms snaked their way around your waist.

His optics flickered open again and stared at you with an emotion you had never seen present in them before... love. Without thinking or even considering the consequences of it, you began to close the distance between your lips and his. However you were cut off when light filled the room coming from the door.

You both turned your heads to see who it was. The expectation was that it was just a vehicon, however it was anyone but a simple minion. It was Megatron himself.

You both stepped back. What was he doing there? He was probably either looking for you or Starscream. You passed some vehicons on the way, so he could have definitely inquired where you were from them, if you were indeed the one he was seeking to find.

When he noticed you and Starscream together, and not just that, but that you were having... erm, a moment, his face twisted from a hurt shocked to anger.

"What have we here?" He marched in, servos behind his back. The door closed, blocking the light once more. You weren't exactly sure why he was so furious, he had never been that mad at you before.

"Well," Starscream stumbled on his words and shrunk back. "You see-"

"Trying to steal yet another thing from me!" He exploded at the seeker. He took the second in command's neck in his hand and held him in the air.

"Megatron! What are you doing?!" It made no sense, why he was just suddenly deciding to kill Starscream. Had he tried to kill him recently? What did he mean 'steal'?

"What are you... Talking... About?" Starscream gasped with his legs dangling.

"(Y/n)," he turned to you. You flinched back, yet noticed how his voice was softer. "Be my sparkmate."

This thoroughly confused you and sent a chill through your frame. "What?! No."

A mix of despair, anger, and desperation showed on his faceplate.

Deciding to elaborate you started carefully, "Why? I thought we were just friends. I thought of us as just friends." You had nothing against him. You cared about him, but never thought of it in a different way. Perhaps you could have explained more, although in your baffled state, you couldn't get out much.

"Those years in space," the leader of the Decepticons began, "it was so lonely I once thought I would lose my mind. The only two things that kept me going and what made me able to live after every near-death experience are my desire to extinguish Optimus and to be with you. You somehow make everything better and chase away darkness and solitude." A blade launched from above his hand and he aimed it for the dangling Cybertronian in his hand. "I want you to always be by my side. Be my sparkmate, or Starscream dies."

You couldn't believe it, well, maybe you could considering how violent he was and how many other times he came close to killing Starscream. The Decepticon leader had even expressed fear you'd leave him for someone else before. Yet, you had assumed that it was platonic and never guessed this would happen.

"Please," you pleaded, "Don't terminate him. I know you have kindness in your spark, and it is not weakness, it is a virtue. Please. Starscream has always been useful to you. For me?" You held your servos together, your sad optics sparkled.

This seemed to make him consider, as he started to reflect your sadness then shook it away. Replaced with anger of how greatly you cared for his second in command that seemed to undermine everything he did. "No. Only if you become my sparkmate."

The seeker decided to take matters into his own servos and aimed the red missile on his arm while distracted. Megatron noticed and tore it and the other off and let then drop to the floor with Starscream wailing in pain.

You shook your head in horror, still in disbelief of what was happening. "Why are you doi-"

"I CAN'T LOSE YOU TO STARSCREAM!" He raised the sword. "And now he won't keep you from me anymore!"

"NO!" You screamed. Panic surged through you. This couldn't happen, you couldn't lose Starscream. You just couldn't. You didn't want him to die. If he were to die, you would never see or talk to him again, and it was something you could never afford.

Without thinking, you lunged forward and converted your servo to a blade. Only focusing on saving Starscream, you slashed at the one threatening his well-being.

Then time slowed. Your optics widened. You stumbled back with energon stained on the sharp edge. Megatron opened his mouth, yet nothing came out as his grip loosened and he fell to the ground. His helm nearly falling off of his body, with almost all severed off. Your mouth hung open watching the glowing blue liquid puddle onto the floor, seeming to form a lake. He gave the saddest look you've ever seen, making you want to scream as he seemed to stare right into your spark, before his scarlet optics flickered and the life faded from them.

Then the gravity of what you did. You stared at the blade, then your dead friend.

"NO! What am I doing? Why did I want to hurt you?!" You screamed. Switching back to your hand, feeling the energon drip into your parts, as you ran forward and held Megatron. You answered your own questioned, "It was to save Starscream, but why did you make me do that?! I didn't wanna hurt you. I'm supposed to be a friend, be nice. I just wanna... wanted to be your friend." You changed the word since Megatron was now no more. You wrapped your armed around him in a hug. Overcome by grief. Then anger resurfaced.

"Stupid head! Why do you have to be like this? Why do you have to be an evil overlord? I wanted to be friends. I care about you!" Then you sank back into sadness.

With a sigh, you attempt to pull yourself together. He was set to the side and you stood up, energon dripping off of you.

This whole time, Starscream, who had crawled away when he was first released, watched you. He really had no idea what to do or how to help you. All he knew was that you probably needed to be left alone at that moment, thus he stood there. Although he was flattered that you, as a pacifist, would kill to save him, he hated that you were unhappy. He waited until a few nanoklicks after you stood in silence.

"All hail Starscream?" He hesitantly questioned, his wings giving a shrug. He clearly didn't want to bother you in such an emotional state, although still desired to know if he'd be leading the Decepticons.

With a small smile creeping to your lips, you nodded while trying to move on from what happened. "Yes. All hail Starscream."

[h2bakugou]

hello! May I please have a Dabi x fem reader in the lov who likes to draw? I think she finds his scars and stuff to be a work of art in itself and is like (oh heck I gotta sketch this). He glances at what she’s drawing and she gets all flustered! Maybe he even takes his shirt off at one point which can lead to some other things~ (I like smut but if you think fluff fits the prompt better that’s alright with me!) Thank you and I love your writing!

a/n: hii! of course love! this is super sweet omg i love dabi, i feel like i dont capture his character very well but imma try like hell😩😩this is probably ooc for him but it’s sappy and i love it

summary: dabi’s hard to read, but that doesn’t stop you from sketching him. you find beauty in his flaws, entranced by his scars, so much so that dabi can’t help but be interested in you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, sappy romance bc i love this man, some spicy themes, one mention of a slight(possible? idrk what counts) manga spoiler (e.g. dabi’s past/history) (manga spoilers in tags!!)

wordcount: 2k

;cut due to suggestive themes;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s never been a really big secret that you liked drawing. But when it comes to working for the league, specifically, the League of Villains, your line of work doesn’t allow for very much downtime unless you’re in the midst of planning some sort of attack or rebellion.

Whether or not the league keeps hopping from rendezvous spot to rendezvous spot isn’t up to you, but you never fail to get a little used to the eerily calming silence that falls upon the league during the first twenty-four hours of the new four walls that seem to keep you safe for the time being.

With a barely sharpened pencil in your hand, a small drawing pad in the other, you’re staring at Dabi as you sketch him.

It started as a bit of a joke, maybe just teasing him since he liked to tease you about being into him since you were the only one he was really super close, if you could call being the first one he spoke to every time he saw you or the one you sought out to be paired up with during missions, ‘super close.’

But now, it was something you enjoyed.

Dabi was one among the very interesting members of the league. Something about his scars just seemed to entrance you. Pulling you in further and further down a rabbit hole of questions that you had but never let leave past your lips.

It felt wrong to ask, not that it was a bad thing to be curious, but because Dabi was just so mysterious. No one knew anything about him, or about who he was, his past, even his real name was a mystery. 

It felt wrong to disturb the unnerving peace that was Dabi. The resting expression on his features balancing on a thin cable between anger and poor personal resilience.

Dabi’s scars were the highlight of your sketches, always standing out. What the others may have thought to be ugly, or unattractive, you thought were beautiful, and emotional.

There was a story behind them, one you wanted to know, one you wanted to uncover and read, page by page, line by line, and word for word, discovering just how truly deep Dabi’s past was. But only Dabi could show you that, only Dabi could open that book for you. And you were willing to wait. You’d wait an eternity if you had too.

His rough raven hair is messy and strewn about as you scribble down his facial features, the groggy lighting making it just a tad difficult to see as you lead the pencil over the warm white paper littered with graphite covered fingerprints.

His arms are positioned on a counter, the art work resembling how he was sitting sloped against the kitchen table, elbows pressed against the dark mahogany wood, hands resting by his mouth as his cerulean eyes peer off at the cracked cement wall in front of him, occasionally glancing back at you.

The other members of the league were scattered about but it didn’t bother you. Toga asked you a couple of questions, wondering what you were doing, if you were excited about the new plans and such.

You replied quietly as to not disturb the peace.

But soon some of the members left, going off to go eat or find something to do. And soon you were among the few left behind, along with Dabi, Shigaraki and Mr. Compress.

Having almost finally finished your current sketch, you were stopped by a pair of hands picking up your drawing pad. Rough and calloused fingers drew your pad away and your attention away.

“Hey I’m not finished.” You glanced up at Dabi. Dabi just admired the talent poured into the sketch. Dabi couldn’t wrap his head around why you drew him so often, but he didn’t mind. It was kind of touching in a way.

“Is that really what I look like?” Dabi joked, handing you back your sketch pad.

“You have looked in a mirror once before, right?” You titled your head to the side, adding a bit more detail to his scars as you began to draw again. 

“A few times. But I’d rather look at you, doll.” Dabi’s hands reached down again, this time pulling at your hands. Leading you out of the room where the other two members sat, finding a way to entertain themselves, Dabi lead you up some stairs in questionable condition.

Picking a random room, he sat down on the rickety bed and waited for you to sit down.

“Why’s that?” You tease, returning to drawing, looking up at him every few seconds to reference. And to admire him.

“You’re easy on the eyes, beautiful and-”

“Are you saying you’re not beautiful, Dabi?” You stopped him, not pausing to look at him.

“I’m not beautiful, I’m gorgeous.” Dabi chuckled, shaking his head jokingly as he laid back against the bed, his head dangling off the opposite end.

“You are.” You confirm. Finally finishing up your sketch. You get up and walk over to him, handing him the finished sketch. 

“You add so much detail to my scars. They’re just scars.” The tips of Dabi’s ears flush as heat floods to his face. He’s flustered but he won’t admit it. He can’t understand why you think he’s so beautiful.

You don’t speak. For the first time, you’re speechless. You sit down beside Dabi, and now that he’s sitting up, he faces you.

You reach your hands out and gently lift one of his arms, holding one of his hands in your own. You run your fingers across the scarred flesh, gently caressing his skin. 

His hands are cold compared to your warm fingers. He’s getting chills all down his spine as you touch him. It’s not meant to be anything out of the ordinary, but he’s still shocked that he’s letting you touch him.

“Your scars are beautiful. I’m sure there’s a story, something about them that might make you hate them, but I love them, and I think they make you that much more beautiful. You are a masterpiece, every scar a carefully calculated brushstroke on a beautiful canvas.” Your words finally come out, overflowing with love. You can’t sit quietly anymore.

“Dabi you are beautiful.” Your eyes lock with his, and you can tell he’s unsure of what to do. 

Dabi no longer felt he had the ability to cry, but if he’d let himself, he would’ve done it in that moment. Being so open and vulnerable around you just happened. It came too easily, and he hated it, but he loved you.

Pulling his arm away form your warm touch, he tossed his jacket off and to the side before tearing his shirt away from his body, allowing you to see his chest, and more of his scar covered skin.

Sitting quietly with a faint blush on your cheeks, you couldn’t look away. trying to avoid staring directly at his toned chest and his nipples, you raised your hand and allowed your fingers to sink down across his sternum.

Soon your fingers were met with his abs, which the heat on your face noticed far too well. 

“Say it again.” Dabi mumbled. You lifted your head to look into his eyes again, your hand still resting against his chest.

“You are beautiful-” The moment the words left your lips, Dabi’s own lips were pressed against yours. Kissing you roughly, more than he intended too, his hands mangled into yours, pushing your arms over your head.

His heart was pounding and it felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest onto yours. Pulling away for a few seconds, Dabi’s hair covered his eyes as he looked down, finding interest in the collar of your shirt.

“I want you.” Dabi’s words were simple, but they didn’t have to be complex. You knew what he meant, and you knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. A chance to see him in a different light, with deeper meaning.

A chance to connect with him, one on one. 

“Then take me.” Your fingers intertwined with his, your arms still resting above your head. It didn’t take long for his lips to magnetize back to yours, sticking to them like glue.

When Dabi thought about sex, he didn’t come anywhere close to making love. There wasn’t that sort of option when it came to him. He didn’t think he was at all capable of love, let alone a relationship that was going to have any sort of emotional connection strong enough to make him feel stable.

But you, you were so vastly different from anyone he’d ever fucked. So different from an excuse to get his dick wet, to get his mind off of league business or heaven forbid, his past.

But you, you were what he needed, what he wanted. It was far from therapy, but it’d work. Having you around was like a drug, addicting, and he’d be going through withdrawals if he couldn’t have you.

Feeling you, touching you, fucking you, kissing you, it was fuel to his fire. He was damaged goods, broken and shattered, impossible to put together, but you were doing your best, working on the smallest parts, exercising precautions, and opening your heart to him.

Hearing his name in the form of your moans as he rutted into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips drove him wild, much like the way your hands tangled into his hair, forcing his head into your chest where he kissed and sucked on your skin, leaving marks.

Your moans and his own grunts of pleasure were spewing from the locked room. Dabi didn’t care if the others heard, he was enjoying the moment.

Every part of it. Every part of you, every part of your body, your words, your love. And before he knew, Dabi was at his highest, his face flush against your naked chest, breathing heavily as he inhaled your scent.

Still inside you, he didn’t move, allowing the two of you to catch your breath. It was in this moment, if Dabi allowed himself to cry, he would’ve cried a second time. He was so infatuated with you, so attached.

“I love you.” Your words scared him, causing his cerulean eyes to peak at you through locks of his noir hair.

“That’s stupid.” Dabi kissed your sternum, kissing up your chest, stopping at your neck to leave a little mark, only to meet at your lips in the end.

“How?” You ask softly, your hands massaging his scalp as his lips hover over yours.

“I can’t explain it, it just is.” Dabi frowned, trying to understand what your eyes were saying as they clouded with emotion.

“Love is complex, and I think that maybe you’ve never really had good experiences with it. If you’d let me, I could show you just how beautiful it can be.” You offer, a small smile on your lips.

“If you feel the need-”

“I do. I love you, and I want you to know love.” You kissed his forehead. Dabi eventually pulled out, not minding the mess, he’d clean up later. 

“I want you to know why I love you.” You whispered, hugging him closer to you.

“Why I love your scars, your hands, your strength, the rasp in your voice, all of it. I love.” Dabi’s arms are strung over your waist as he lays, face nuzzled in your neck. It’s a bit of a stretch for him, and he feels out of place, but it’s oddly comfortable.

The next couple of times you draw Dabi, you ask to see him shirtless again. And with every new sketch, there’s something new to be learned, for Dabi. He’s learning about love, and loving you. 

He finds that you still draw him incredibly cute, and though he won’t admit it, he loves when you draw him. He’ll pose for you if you ever ask, and you always tease him a little about how it was like he was born to be a model.

It’s a long road ahead of you, but it’s one you’re willing to take, to show Dabi just how important love is.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[kyotarou]

say “i love you”

characters: kei tsukishima

warnings: angst with a happy ending

word count: 1.5k+

a/n: never thought i’d get emotional over my own work but here we go :’)

     Four months. It’s been four months, three weeks, and six days since you stormed out of Tsukishima’s home with tears and a broken heart. Four months, three weeks, and six days since you ended your five-month-long relationship and uttered the words he never thought he’d hear.

     “Goodbye, Tsukki. I hope your life is better without me.”

     You’d come back for sure, that’s what you always did, because you depended on him, and he depended on you. But four long months passed and you hadn’t come back. No calls, no texts, and your scent was fading from his bed and clothes. The closest he got was when you came to his house while he had practice and cleared the separate drawer he kept for your clothes, then left the spare key on the dinner table along with the keychain of a picture of you and him in the trash. Tsukishima picked it out, cleaned it, and kept it on his desk. No matter how much it broke his heart to look at it, it hurt more to throw it away. It was the rare proof Tsukki had the ability to smile, though it took your whining and begging for him to do so, and he now wished he did it more often.

     At school, you walked past him without a glance in his direction like he didn’t exist. In a way, he didn’t—with the little effort he put into your relationship, it wasn’t worth your time to consider his existence, because he blended into the background like the other nameless students you saw at school. It was unfair. You could avoid him, but he couldn’t avoid you. Your friends were his teammates and it felt like you purposely came by after practice to torture him, laughing and chatting with Tanaka, Kiyoko, and even feeble little Yamaguchi while he stood to the side watching.

     Why did you have to come by? Couldn’t you wait until he wasn’t around to fraternize? Or were you trying to punish him by showing him how happy you were now that he was gone, because it worked, and every time he saw you he regretted not giving you the love you deserved? There you were, getting more love from your friends than your lover—well, ex-lover now. But they didn’t know you like he did; all your fears, your aspirations, what made you break. He knew everything about yet you knew nothing about him.

     Tsukishima kept his feelings hidden well, but now they began to seep into his daily life. His blocks weakened, mind hazy, grades slipping. Did you know the effect you had on him, how he fell apart in those months? Did you know he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, whimpering your name, sobbing into the empty darkness? Did you know he clutched his pillow to his chest every night, dreaming it was you, wishing death would come so he wouldn’t feel this pain?

     But it wasn’t your fault. It was him who made you leave, who was the last straw, all because he couldn’t say those three stupid words. The day you left played on loop in his head; if he told you he loved you that night, would you have stayed? Would these four months never have happened? Too late, they already have, and unless someone made a time machine, he couldn’t go back. Tsukishima brought this pain on himself and whatever you felt during your relationship must’ve been worse.

     Five months. Five months since you’ve been gone but still there. Tsukishima missed his block once again, the ball flying over the net and barely grazing his fingertips before landing on the floor with a sad bounce. While his teammates and Coach Ukai scowled in annoyance, he stared at the empty bleachers where you once sat. You used to watch him with glowing eyes and a bright smile, keeping your lips sealed since he told you your voice distracted him. Little did you know your presence itself was a distraction because all Tsukishima could focus on was making you happy. Even if Karasuno lost, your boyfriend’s passion was enough to make you cheer until your lungs hurt.

     “Tsukishima! What the hell was that?” Coach Ukai snapped.

     “Keep up the good work. We’re totally gonna go to nationals,” Kageyama muttered as he took his position by the net.

     Tsukishima kept his hands up to hide the way his lip quivered and hoped his glasses blocked the tears forming, but the shaking in his legs gave it away.

     “Tsukki, what’s wrong?” Yamaguchi asked. “Are you feeling alright? Did you get sick?”

     “I’m-” Tsukishima’s voice cracked. “No, I’m not okay. I’m an idiot.”

     “Wha-? What are you talking about? It was one block.”

     “I’m an idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.” His face burned with shame as the hot tears flowed like water from a broken dam. Tsukishima stormed out of the gym, wiping at his eyes while his body succumbed to the strongest, most painful sob he’d ever felt. His feet carried him further from the gym, the calls from his teammates falling on deaf ears until he bumped into a wall. He wailed, he wailed like the world was empty because it was. The world was so empty without you. He didn’t care if the whole school heard him if they were going to make fun of him for it after.

     “Are you done moping?”

     Kageyama stomped towards the tall blond who had his head pressed against the wall, body trembling with each gasp and cry.

     “Go away.”

     “You’re upset about (Y/N), aren’t you?”

     “What would you know about them?”

     “I know they’re not as happy as they look.”

     Tsukishima turned his head. Kageyama stood with his hands on his hips, a tired look on his face. He rolled his eyes.

     “I know they’re really breaking inside, because they miss you, Tsukki. I don’t know if they’re hurting as much as you, but it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. What I do know is that they’re starting to get over you, Tsukki. So if you want them back, just say it. Say what you want them to know, because if you don’t, you’re gonna lose them forever, and you’re gonna beat yourself up over it for the rest of your life. So go. Do it, you idiot!”

     Tsukishima ran faster than he thought was possible. He ran through the halls, up the stairs, around the corner, not stopping even though his lungs hurt and his legs burned. He ran until he landed where he was sure you’d be, in the empty classroom where you had club meetings. Although they were finished, you stayed behind to revel in the peacefulness of the room, a stark contrast from how it buzzed during the school day.

     He burst through the door like a madman and collapsed over a desk, sucking in as much air as he could.

     You jumped from your seat. “Ah! What the hell are you doing here?”

     “I-” Tsukishima gasped. Hearing your voice clearly for the first time in months was enough to fuel the fire in his veins. “I need to tell you something.”

     “What could you possibly want?” you snarled and began to pack your stuff. “I don’t want to see you ever again.”

     Tsukishima picked himself up and trudged to your desk before falling to his knees. His heart threatened to burst from his chest as his hands tentatively reached for yours. Relief washed over him when you didn’t pull away.

     “I love you.”

     You stiffened. “What did you say?”

     “I love you.”

     You stared down in shock, then your open mouth turned into a scowl. “You think you can fix this, fix us? No, you ruined it. It’s too late.”

     His arms slipped around your waist, forehead pressed against your stomach. “I know. I messed up, big time. I’m not asking for forgiveness, but I miss you, and it’s killing me. I love you, (Y/N). I’m sorry I never told you, but I really did, and I still do.”

     Your eyes narrowed in fury.

     “N-No! You think you can come in here and win me back just as I was getting over you? You think you have the right to do that, to break my heart again?” No matter how hard you pushed, Tsukishima clung to you with an iron grip.

     “I love you.”

     “Liar!”

     “I love you.”

     “Liar.”

     “I love you.”

     “Liar…” You, too, began to cry. You pounded on his shoulders in rage, wishing he would let go and disappear, but your heart swelled after hearing the words you never thought you would. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I hate that I love you, too.”

     Tsukishima stood and cradled your face in his hands, wiping the tears away. His gentle kiss, lips hot and soft, took you by surprise. Out of instinct, you kissed him back, his warm breath meddling with yours. “I love you, (Y/N),” he whispered once you parted. “I’ll always be angry at myself for hurting you, but I want to try again if you’ll let me. I’m sorry.”

     You closed your eyes. “Say ‘I love you’ and I’ll think about it.”

     “I love you, forever and always. I love you.”

[andreafmn]

Running In Circles - Chapter 2

Word Count: 2,663

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter Description: The team goes back to work as Aaron Hotchner considers retiring from the team and spend time with his son. (Y/n) can’t help but provide emotional support for the Hotchner boys.

A/N: I enjoy angst and slow burns way too much XD. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 2

Once it was over, the interviews came. We knew the story. We lived it. The case was open and shut. They could try and make us pint it all on Hotch, the easy way out, but we knew better. And we would stand next to our unit chief whatever the price.

Haley’s funeral was no easier than being at the scene. It was a somber day and the sadness was imprinted in us. We all walked with dropped shoulders and a tight chest. I stood between Derek and Reid, using Morgan as support because I felt that my legs would give out at any moment. My father stood behind me rubbing circles on my back to comfort me. As we laid the roses on top of the casket, we laid to rest the life of Haley, a woman I only knew through the loving words Hotch spoke of.

The group did not know what to do to help the heartbroken man. It would take time to heal even just the smallest bit of his heart. All we could hope for was that he would come back to the team.

At the worst possible moment, the phone rings. No other team available and someone in need, we had to go to work. We all rolled our eyes or shook our heads; this was the job. But would it be the same without him?

I went to Hotch before we left and gave him a hug.

“Call me if you guys need anything,” he said.

“Just take care of your son,” I smiled, and he softly returned one of his own. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and left to join the team.

On the plane, we were caught up with the case. We stored all our feelings and got the machines running. We needed to finish this quickly and perfectly.

Two women, both brunettes and young, high-powered executives, murdered in their own homes, the floor around them decorated with flower petals. After Emily and Derek visited the crime scene, we had another part of the puzzle, the unsub was stalking his victims. Everything just seemed so perfect and staged, there was no way he was not prepared.

I stayed with JJ in the station working on the announcement and trying to figure something else from the details provided and the crime scene photos, but JJ could see my head wasn’t in it completely for the first time.

“Hey,” she said, taking my attention from the piece of paper I had been eyeing for the past five minutes. “What’s on your mind? Talk to me.”

“Is it wrong that I feel bad for being here?” I sighed. “Working like nothing’s happened.”

“Of course not, we all feel a bit guilty,” she smiled. “I know you most of all.”

My eyes opened in shock.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). Everyone knows you have a not-so-secret crush on Hotch,” she laughed. “The only one that can’t see it is him. And probably your dad. Parents can be quite oblivious to their children’s feelings in this way.”

My head flew into my hands to cover the embarrassment that was flooding my cheeks. It was one thing to assume the whole team knew, another was to have it confirmed.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), we’ll see what comes of it. What I can say is that you can’t let this stop you from doing your job.”

She smiled one last time and it was all I needed to push Aaron Hotchner to the back of my mind and bring the case forward.

“Find anything?” My father asked entering the small room at the police station, Reid following behind.

“Several people had access to each home,” I said rubbing my temple. “Housekeeper, gardener, pool cleaner, dog walker…”

“Each with their own key and an alibi to match,” JJ added, an annoyed tone rolling off her tongue.

“Any crossover?”

“None. We even vetted delivery people and utility workers.” I sighed.

“Garcia, do you have anything?” Reid said, sitting down.

“There’s no hits at the prints at all. But I did what Sir Derek there asked, and I created a paper trail,” Penny explained. “There’s no cross-over between the two victims themselves in the weeks leading up to their murders, but they did run in similar circles.”

Penelope continued to explain how both victims lived quite a lavish and high-class lifestyle as Emily and Derek joined us. We figured this man would fit right in this crowd. Educated, intelligent, a gentleman. What we had yet to pinpoint was how the unsub entered the homes with no signs of forced entry. It was clear we were not going to make any headway tonight and Derek knew it too. So, he decided we should be done for the day and we would come back tomorrow well-rested and with fresh eyes.

That night I laid in the bed of my hotel room staring at the ceiling. All I could think of was Hotch and everything he was going through. I could only imagine.

And as if by fate, my phone rang. Aaron Hotchner.

“Hello?”

“Oh,” Hotch said surprised. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I haven’t been able to sleep.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I guess I’m just worried about you.”

He chuckled softly. “You really shouldn’t.”

“But I do, Hotch.”

He stayed silent, only his slow breathing was heard through the phone.

“Did I fail her?” He asked after some minutes of comfortable silence.

“Absolutely not.”

“I promised her that I would catch Foyet and spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

“And you still can.”

“But” he exhaled loudly. “How?”

“By being the best father you can be to Jack and continue living your life in the best way you can.”

“You know, Dave told me that I had to figure out what kind of father I wanted to be and then I’d know what to do. But I have no idea what that is.”

“Hotch…”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what kind of father I am. I catch killers. I save lives. I’m a hero until my key hits the front door, and then I’m just the father who’s never there. Haley was raising Jack all by herself and that was my support blanket. I was able to do my job because I knew he was cared for by another parent. A better parent.”

He sobbed softly as the last words escaped his mouth.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said, trying my best not to sound angry. “To that little boy, you are the only real hero that exists. He knows that when you’re not home it’s because you’re out here catching the bad guys like Foyet and making the world better for his sake. He knows that everything you do is out of love for him.

You know, when I was little my dad was absent quite a lot because of this job, but there was one thing that I knew for sure, that he loved me more than anything and that he worked better and faster because he wanted to come back home to me. And never ever have I resented him for leaving and catching the bad guys. He’s the reason I became an FBI agent.

You are an amazing father and anything you choose will be the right thing for Jack.”

After a minute of sobs, Hotch started to calm down.

“Thank you, (Y/N). You have no idea how much I needed that right now,” he cleared his throat. “How’s the case going?”

“Nope,” I laughed. “Not going to talk about the case.”

“Really?” He chuckled.

“Yes, Hotch. Take a breather. You deserve it.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, and I could hear his smile through the phone.

We had been talking for about an hour when I heard him yawn.

“Seems you’re getting sleepy there, Hotchner.” I laughed. “We should both get some rest. If it’s 3 am over here it must be 2 am in Washington. So, good night and see you soon.”

“Good night, (Y/N). Again, thank you. Sweet dreams.” And he hung up.

And finally, I drifted to sleep.

The next morning, we were up and ready for business.

“We believe our unsub is already with his next victim,” my father started. “If he matches the patter, she’ll be a successful woman, probably brunette, early 30s to mid-40s. She’ll be at home in Nashville’s upper echelon.”

“This means that he fits in,” I explained. “He drives the right car, he wears the right clothes, he’s highly intelligent. He probably comes from a place of status.”

“This guy’s sociable and he’s endearing,” said Morgan. “You would never suspect that this man is capable of murder. But he will do whatever it takes to protect the fantasy that he’s trying to relive.”

“It’s this fantasy which fuels his drive. He’s reliving a romantic evening and recreating it with each of his victims.”

“He most likely had a relationship taken away from him,” Derek crossed his arms. “So, look at men who have lost loved ones or have gone through a messy divorce.”

After finishing with the profile, we set out to establishments that fit the criteria to possibly get a suspect. As we worked, we got a call. Another crime scene, but this one was different.

A male victim. Overkill on the female. Something made him change his M.O.

Out in the garage, Reid and I looked for any sort of clues and I noticed his sight direct to the car. There may be another way we could connect the victims and how the unsub made their way into their homes.

Finally, Garcia had something with the hunch Spencer had figured. She overlaid all the geographical routes the victims had taken against the geo profile to show what we were missing with any paper trail. Although it was not a clear answer, Erika Silverman was the only one that did not fit the extravagant lifestyle and she only went and came from her work or her home. Except on Tuesday, where she went to the Botanical Gardens, what was she doing there? JJ, Reid, and I left for the gardens to find out.

And just as we had suspected, there had been an event to which Erika had attended. And a puzzle piece revealed itself.

“An event up here would be a hard sell for women in heels,” JJ commented.

“Well, most of our private events hire valets to drive the cars down to the base of the park so they don’t have to hike it up the hill.”

“Who had access to your keys but goes unseen?” Reid asked.

“And to your GPS,” I added.

“Dealerships program your home address into the navigation system before your car even leaves the lot.”

“He had turn-by-turn directions straight to her front door and the keys to get him inside,” I pointed.

We now had how he got his victims and how he entered their house without force. Now, all we had to do was pinpoint his next victim and see who he was.

JJ was instructed to get dad and Prentiss to pick up the owner of the valet service used in the event, and Derek, Reid, and I stayed behind to canvass the employees. We could catch this guy in action unless he had already gotten his next victim.

Joe Belser. That was our unsub. With the profile, the owner was able to point out the suspect quickly. And off we were.

JJ, Reid, and I headed to the venue and the rest of the team went to Belser’s house. He wasn’t in the apartment, but they had found the meaning behind the roses and universal garage door openers. In the venue, Reid called Garcia to see which of the VIP guests could be the next potential victim.

Ann Herron was the next victim, and he was already at her house.

“FBI! PUT IT DOWN!” Derek screamed, blinding Joe with his flashlight. I walked in from behind Derek and kneed Belser’s stomach. He fell to the ground groaning and Emily grabbed the man by the throat to immobilize him.

“Fantasy’s over,” she spat. “Is that what you did to them? You hit them to shut them up and then forced them to play along with your sick delusion?”

 “I love them,” Joe said sinisterly.

“You’re finally gonna meet your soulmate, Joe,” I added from behind Prentiss. “In prison.”

“Only you’re not gonna be able to push him around like you did those women,” Emily continued. “And when he comes for you in the middle of the night, when you’re least expecting it, you do me a favor. Play along.” 

She stood the man up forcibly and put him in handcuffs and I went outside to check on the victim.

“How is she?” Derek asked walking out of the house with my father.

“She’s strong,” I said closing the ambulance door. “She’ll make it. But you don’t survive something like that without scars.”

“Scars remind us where we’ve been,” my father commented. “They don’t have to dictate where we’re going.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my head as we walked back to the SUVs, finally on our way home.

The next day, I called up my dad so he would accompany me to Haley’s grave. Something told me I had to go. At the cemetery, I saw what the pull was. Sitting in front of the headstone less grave was Hotch. I walked up to him first, my father close behind. Hotch lifted his head and stared into my eyes, sitting up slightly.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” I spoke softly. “Have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?” He mused.

“That you’re coming back to the team,” my father joined his left side. Hotch looked at him. “That fighting the bad guys is who you are.”

Hotch lowered his head and shook it. “I don’t have to tell her. She already knows.”

I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and gave him a soft smile. My father did the same and walked to my side, so we’d retreat, giving Hotch some space.

“So, do you want me to drive you back to your house?” My father asked.

“No,” I smiled. “I’m gonna stay with Hotch for a bit and then I’ll go home.”

“Okay, darling.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll pick you up on Monday then. Ciao, Mia Bella.”

“Bye, dad.”

Once my dad left, I sat down on a bench and waited for Hotch.

“(Y/N), you’re still here?” Hotch questioned with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, thought you might want some company.”

“Truthfully,” he chuckled. “I do. Thank you.”

“How about this, we pick up Jack, you guys come over and I crack open a present I had for Jack.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he motioned me to his car. “Let’s go.”

We drove quietly to his apartment, only the low volume of the radio and the sound of our breathing could be heard. It didn’t take long to arrive at the complex, where he opened the car door for me and led me upstairs. Inside apartment #121, was Jessica Brooks, Haley’s sister, and Jack playing a card game.

“(Y/N)!” Jack screamed as soon as I walked through the door, running to give me a hug.

“Hey, buddy!” I hugged back.

“Hotch, you’re back,” she exclaimed. “Good to see you again, (Y/N).”

“Good to see you, too,” I smiled. “How you holding up?”

“As good as I can be.” She answered as she began to gather her things. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Bye, little guy.”

“Bye, Aunt Jessica.”

“Bye, guys.” She said as she left.

“Hey, little man,” I directed to Jack. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“How about you to pack a go-bag and you and dad come over so we can open a present I have for you?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed as he sped off to his room to pack.

“I think you should go help him,” I smiled at Hotch. “If I have any memory of being a kid, they’re not very good at packing.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Maybe I should.”

I waited for both father and son to pack for the night asking myself why I was putting myself in this position. Growing closer to a man I had a 0% chance with. But I couldn’t help it. All in all, he was my friend, and he needed all the support he could get.

<- Previous | Next->

A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

[nancydfan]

So I have been a fan of resident evil for a while now and I have to say without a shadow of a doubt Ethan is my favorite protagonist. I feel like the rest of the protagonists in the series are kinda the same, you’ve got the police/army guys (Leon and Chris) who are determined to save the world, and then with the rest of them they’re kinda the same, badass people willing to give their all to get rid of evil and return the world back to normal. And that’s fine, except it’s a kind of story that’s been told over and over again and not just in resident evil.

That’s why I love Ethan so much. He is a breath of fresh air that the series needed. And while yes, you can argue that his type of storyline has also been used a lot, it’s something that has never been explored in resident evil.

With the rest of the protagonists, they choose to fight. They volunteer to put themselves in horrifying scenarios for the greater good.

Ethan isn’t like that.

He’s literally just your typical average dude. He has a normal job, and has a relatively normal life which he was happy to spend with Mia until she went missing.

In RE7 Ethan doesn’t volunteer to deal with the horrors that he faces. He just wanted his wife back, and even after 3 years he still loves her enough to drop everything and rush out to find her.

When I finished RE7, I liked Ethan as a main character, but it was RE8 that made me fall in love with him. In RE7 there were a lot of times when he just didn’t respond or kind of reacts underwhelmingly, but I think this is less of his character and more of Capcom trying to make you feel more like Ethan and having him react too much might take you out of feeling like the main character is you.

Of course his actions are still very reflective of him, like when he first enters the house and has to “kill” Mia the first time, when she reaches out to him he reaches right back, implying that he regrets what just happened and that he still wants her to be okay, no matter what is wrong with her.

I know Jacksepticeye said one of the reasons why he doesn’t like Ethan is because he doesn’t have a character arc, but I disagree. Like I said, Ethan goes from not being very vocal at times/ underwhelming reactions in RE7 to I feel the exact opposite in 8; he talks a lot more with lines that make sense, and you can feel his emotions at times even with just seeing his hands. Now one can argue that Capcom just wrote Ethan differently, which I can see.

But I feel as though Ethan has changed- in the first game, he’s scared and confused, and finally ends on frustration as the game nears its end. In RE8 he is angry, angry that his life keeps getting turned on it’s head because of some stupid mold. He is angry, and fueled by his grief and determination to save the only family (he thinks) he has left. He is 100% done with everything and has honestly given his last fuck a long time ago.

And again, this is what makes him special- he doesn’t necessarily care about the mold, about Miranda or any of the “bigger issue” things- he just wants his family. In 7 he just wants to get his wife and get out of there, and In 8 he just wants to save his daughter. He didn’t sign up to be a hero, to save the world from it’s own creations. He just wants his family.

And honestly that’s what makes him more human and alive to me than the rest of the protagonists- the rest of them kind of just feel like characters with their (almost cheesy) need to take on insurmountable problems to save the world. But Ethan is different, he’s just a man who probably just wants to do his taxes in peace and have a normal, quiet life. The rest of the protagonists, though I’m sure would love to quit, wouldn’t change their jobs or their situations because they know someone has to do it and it might as well be them. But not Ethan. If he had the choice than he’d make it so none of this ever happened, and that he and his family never have to be involved in something like this again.

Which is why I think this is what makes his sacrifice so much more tragic. With any of the other protagonists yes we would be sad but we’d find comfort in knowing that they died doing what they loved (saving people), and wouldn’t have it any other way.

But Ethan is different.

He didn’t want to sacrifice himself- we can see that in the way he struggles with Chris to get out, to stay in one piece for his daughter because he wants to be there for her. He went through hell and he just wants to see his little girl grow up. And when he hears Mia’s alive that want only grows more because he has a chance to have his family back, but I think he knows he can’t. He’s falling apart, his body has dealt with so much and kept him alive but not for much longer. And so even though he desperately wants to go back with Chris, after hearing Mia’s alive he knows he can let go. I think another part of why he was fighting so hard to escape with Chris is because he didn’t want Rose to live without both of her parents, but when he hears Mia’s alive he realizes that Rose will be okay, she will at least have one parent. He is so tired, so tired of fighting that even though he hates the fact that he can’t go back with her (you can physically hear the pain in his voice when he says “Goodbye Rosemary”), he knows that it’s something he has to do.

And he isn’t happy or content with sacrificing himself. In fact this is the last thing he wanted, which again is what makes it so heart wrenching. After all the pain he’s been through he doesn’t even get to see his daughter grow up, doesn’t get to grow old with his wife, his painful adventure to get his family back ends just as painfully as he pulls the trigger to destroy the mold.

This is why Ethan is special to me. Ethan is just a man who wanted to be happy with his family, not some stereotypical stone cold hero who would gladly give up his life for the greater good. He is truly unique and in a way I saw myself in him and his personality, which is what crushed me so much when he died. I wanted him to have a good ending and he got handed a shitty end. I really hope Capcom gives him a good resolution, one where he doesn’t have to be a main character at all but at least give us something where we know he’s okay and reunited with his family.

Sorry for getting weepy and deep lol, it’s just I really love Ethan and have no one to talk about how upset I am at his ending lol. Thanks for listening to my rant!

Oh my dear nonnie you’re always welcome to rant in my inbox. Long or not, thoughts, etc. that’s why my box is always open :)

And just so you know, I’m currently crying in an airport lobby over Ethan Winters 😆

I’m on mobile so I won’t be able to properly respond probably except to say you are absolutely right on all of these things. He really is such a stark contrast to the rest of the RE heroes and that’s what makes him so special to me too. He is just a man. A man who does everything he can for his family. All he wants to do is be left alone to love his wife and raise his daughter. I keep thinking of that scene in re8 where he’s talking to the doc. That is the Ethan Winters Capcom refuses to let us see all that much. Easy, happy, carefree moment. There’s a lightness to his voice. He doesn’t care about the problems of the world. That isn’t his job too. And it’s unbelievably tragic that not only does he get pulled into this twice (with three years of suffering for Mia before Dulvey and then the heartache of her “murder” and Rose’s kidnapping), he then dies in the end???? He doesn’t even get the reward to live with his wife and daughter? WHAT DID ETHAN WINTERS DO TO YOU, CAPCOM!!?

also overcome? Miss me w that bullshit. Y’all blew him to smithereens.

I swear if Capcom doesn’t bring him back in some way I don’t know how I’ll proceed w this series. I love Leon and Claire and Jill a lot too but nothing like Ethan. And I’m super not interested in getting my heart ripped out every few years. Especially w a new protagonist.

Ethan is just the perfect representation of deserved better. He pays his taxes on time, probably helps that old lady down the street whose husband just died. Tells the same joke we’ve all heard a thousand times to the point only Mia and him are laughing at it. He would be there for every parent teacher conference and up at 130 with a flashlight chasing away the monsters from Rose’s closet. The world may be crazy somewhere but he’s content to just be here with his family.

And Capcom took all of that away. I don’t think I’ll ever not be angry about it.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Black Umbrellas

Josh Lyman x Reader

Words: 2277

Part One

Summary: The funeral arrives and everything seems to fall apart. Josh tries to keep his temper in check with Celia, but soon the reason behind their ongoing feud is revealed. 

Notes: Josh is definitely one of my favorite fictional characters and it seems like more of you are liking his imagines. As always, comments are always welcome!- Side note: I know that it’s been forever since I posted part one to this, and I’m very sorry. I hope to be writing for more West Wing, including more characters. 

-

It was just like he would have wanted. The morning was bright and sunny and began with laughter. Josh was standing in the kitchen with your mother and something he had said made her laugh, making the rest of you feel a little lighter on a day that would leave a great deal of weight on your hearts. It’s how your dad would have wanted his funeral to start. Not with sorrow, but with the sense of being together. 

Your mother made blueberry pancakes for breakfast using your dad’s famous recipe and  the three of you had coffee on the porch. Celia and Thomas were still asleep, so there was no danger of an argument breaking out for now. 

“It’s a beautiful day.” Marissa hummed, taking a sip of her coffee. Josh nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, drinking in the morning sun as it rose over the trees. 

“How are you feeling?” He whispered as you rested your head on his shoulder. You shrugged. 

“Best that I can be, I guess.” He nodded in understanding and sweetly kissed the top of your head. 

“I’ll be here the whole time.” You placed a hand on his leg, drawing circles on the denim. You loved it when he wore jeans. It made him feel like he was yours for the day and not rushing off to assist in a national crisis. But even now, he was still the Deputy Chief of Staff. 

You probably noticed his pager buzzing before he did. He looked at you mournfully, his tone apologetic. “I’ve got a call from Leo.” 

You gave him a small smile and a node. “You better take it.” 

He moved out onto the lawn for some privacy and your mother gave your hand a gentle pat. 

“You picked a good one.” She smiled. You both watched as he ran a hand down his face, his expression morphing from saddened to angered to calm in a matter of seconds. 

“Is he seriously working right now?” Your sister’s shrill criticizing voice emerged from inside the house. 

“He’s the Deputy Chief of Staff for the President,” You scoffed, “the world didn’t stop just because he’s here.” 

“Sorry, I forgot. Not all of us are lowly small town journalists like me and dad.” 

“Are you serious, right now?” 

“No, you’re right, I’m sure it’s a matter of national security.” She spat and you stood up from the swing. 

“It very well could be!” You shouted. You wanted to slap her. Who was she to criticize Josh? 

“Girls!” Your mother finally interjected. You both turned your heads towards her and you immediately felt guilty, seeing the tears welling up in her eyes. “Don’t do this today. Please.” 

“Sorry mom.” You both said, hanging your heads. While you could feel everything start to burn up in your chest, you pushed it down. You had to be strong today. Luckily, your own pager went off before any more arguing could occur. 

“Hey Sam.” You sighed in greeting, grateful for a distraction. 

“Hey, how are you doing?” His voice was sympathetic and sweet. Typical Sam. 

“Okay, all things considered.” You laughed lightly, hoping to keep the conversation from getting too emotional. “How are things there?”

“Crazy as usual.” He chuckled. “I just wanted to call and check in.” There was something in his tone that told you there was more. 

“Sam… something is wrong with the speech, isn’t there?” 

“Well,” He blew out a breath, “Since you pushed it back, we’re speaking after Congress is handing us our asses which means that Toby needed to make some changes so we don’t sound like-”

“Kids trying to start a fight on the playground?” You finished. Josh had said the same thing. 

“Yeah…” 

You thought for a moment, but couldn’t focus on any one thing. “Just make sure that he sounds like we’re still coming out on top.” It was the only thing you could do. 

“We’ll try.” He paused, but you already knew what he was going to say. “And Y/N-”

“I know.” You smiled slightly to yourself. “Thanks Sam.” 

You strolled along the wrap-around porch, hoping to avoid Celia for at least a few more minutes, telling yourself it was the stress of the day. She would cool off eventually. 

“I hope everything is doing okay.” Your mother’s comforting tone helped to calm you down. You shrugged. 

“As okay as it ever is.” She nodded with understanding. She knew how messy the political world was. It didn’t stop because someone died. 

Josh came back, the stress clear on his face. When he locked eyes with you, he tried to brighten up, but you could tell that there was something weighing down on his shoulders. You implored him with a look, but he shrugged it off. 

“The usual.” He whispered, draping his arm around you again. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned to your mother with a sad smile. “Leo McGarry and The President send their deepest sympathies.” 

“I appreciate that.” She nodded and looked out over the orchards. How was she so strong through all of this? You felt ready to fall apart at the seams, but your mother was the picture of grace. She always did everything for everyone else and now she wasn’t giving herself the chance to grieve. 

Celia had gone inside to make calls to the funeral home and Thomas was in town picking up groceries. He wanted there to be one less thing for all of you to worry about. 

With a few hours until the funeral, all you wanted was to make it through the day without any more arguments. Josh had a few more calls with Leo and did his best to hide it from your judgmental sister but there was still that tension between them. You took a few sympathy calls from Donna and C.J.- both of whom were very kind in expressing their regrets in not being able to make it to the funeral. 

It was about noon when the President called. Your mother must have spent an hour talking to him in her office before she came back into the living room, passing off the phone to you. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. President.” You started, forcing yourself to keep it together. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch you the other day before you and Josh left.” He sighed. “I wanted to give my condolences in person.” 

“My family and I appreciate it nonetheless, sir.” 

“I am truly sorry for your loss, Y/N.” His fatherly tone made you want to cry. Truthfully, you’d always seen President Bartlet as your work-father more than your boss. “Bill was a good man and a good friend.” 

“He would have been honored to hear you say that, sir.” There was a long moment of silence between the two of you as you both let those words sink in before he concluded. 

“He was always very proud of you, Y/N. I hope you know that.” 

Your breathing hitched as you held back a cry. “Thank you, Mr. President.” As you hung up, you tried to keep the tears from falling. Your quiet moment to yourself was interrupted by the sounds of whispers growing into shouts on the front porch. Celia and Josh. 

As you approached, their words became more and more clear. 

“When are you going to stop treating her like a child?”

“I’m sorry, but I figured I would let her go on thinking that her sister is a crazy lunatic!” 

“Keep your voice down! She’ll hear you.” 

“Let her hear, Celia.” Josh’s voice became a growl. “Let her hear that after all these years, you’ve just been jealous of everything that she’s been able to accomplish and you couldn’t.”

“I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation.” Celia scoffed. You opened the door a crack and watched her step closer to him. “I’m not jealous, Josh. I’m right. Y/N has had everything handed to her since the day she was born. She doesn’t deserve her job.. And she doesn’t deserve you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Josh ran a hand down his face and turned away, but she was persistent.

“We met first, Josh. We started seeing each other and then you fell for her little charms just like everybody else.” 

“You two were seeing each other?” You gasped, finally stepping out from behind the door. Josh let out a frustrated groan. 

“No, honey, we weren’t-”

“Is that why you two are at each other’s throats all the time? Because you were together?”

“We were never together!” He exclaimed. He reached to put his hands on your shoulders, but you stepped away, staring down your older sister. 

“You really think I don’t deserve my job… my husband… my life?” 

She said nothing. Her mouth formed a thin line as she gave you a silent, hard stare. You wanted to slap her. You wanted to scream. Instead, the sky let out a low, tumbling growl of thunder that served as the final straw. You looked up at the darkened clouds as the first raindrop landed on your cheek. 

“No no no no no. This isn’t what he would have wanted.” You cried, holding out a hand as more water fell. “It’s supposed to be sunny and beautiful and… and…” 

“Y/N,” Josh started, but you didn’t hear him. 

“I can’t deal with this right now.” Was all you said as you took off down the steps and towards the road. You didn’t know what to think, but the rain hitting your skin was enough to fuel your fury to hide your sadness. 

“Where is she going?” Marissa asked, feeling the tension in every thunder roll. Josh slammed his hand against the porch railing. 

“I don’t know. But I’ll take care of it.” He gave Celia a glare that could halt an army before running after you.

-

You ended up in an old tool shed somewhere in the orchard, your cries drowned out by the rain pounding against the wooden walls. Your clothes were soaked but you didn’t care. There was just an hour until the funeral and the storm didn’t show any sign of stopping. This was all wrong. 

Your dad was the only one who could have fixed this mess. Whenever either you or your husband fought with Celia, he was the one that could settle everyone down and make you all laugh until your sides hurt. What if you never laughed like that again? 

The rain turned into a soft- but consistent- drizzle and you were sure you heard the sound of a car approaching the shed. You heard your husband calling your name before you even opened the door. 

“How did you know I’d be here?”

He gave you a long, sad look. “When you ran off, your mother said it’d be best if I took a car so we’d have someplace warm to sit and talk. She said you’d probably come here.” He opened the passenger door of his car and just waited. 

Instead of running into the warm heat of the car, you ran into his arms. While you felt like you had no more tears to shed, your body just shook with silent sobs. After a while, he picked you up and put you in the car, quickly going over the driverseat so he could take you in his embrace again. 

“I feel so stupid.” You sniffed. “We’re supposed to be mourning dad and I’m running off like a child.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up.” He muttered into your hair. “Grief does something to our heads… everyone has to deal with it.” He pulled away to look at you. “I shouldn’t have argued with Celia.” 

“No.” You shook your head. “No, I’m glad I know what she really thinks of me. Of us.” 

He pushed a hair behind your ear and gave you a small smile. “You have to know that I would never hide something like that from you unless I thought it didn’t matter. Celia and I got drinks one time before I met you and now she likes to hold it over my head.” He sighed. “And don’t beat yourself up about what she said. You’re one of the hardest working, badass women that I know. You deserve everything that you’ve built.”

He kissed your forehead and you fell into silence again. Without any words, he knew that you believed him about Celia and that the whole thing was blown out of proportions by your sister’s need for attention. He just hoped that you and Celia could start over. As much as he despised her most of the time, he knew what it was like to lose a sister. 

“Why don’t we head back to the house and try and dry off before the funeral?” He suggested softly. You just nodded, laying your head on his shoulder as he drove back to your childhood home. 

-

It wasn’t the sunny day that you wanted it to be. Everyone stood with black umbrellas and somber faces and you did your best to keep it together. Josh held your hand the whole way through, his support not faltering for a single second. You knew this couldn’t be easy for him either and yet he was your rock through all of it. 

The clouds blocked the sun for the rest of the day but you told yourself that it was okay. They were the cloud-kingdoms your father always talked about. The ones he wrote in those little books tucked away in the house. And you took comfort in the fact that you knew, now, that he was up there with them. 

[codenamesazanka]

Dabi’s burning himself up, new scars bring created every time he uses his fire, and there’s no way he isn’t going to stop soon, not until he’s finished with Endeavor.

There’s a sharp contrast between him and his family, currently. The Todoroki family has finally all been united - after years - in Enji’s hospital room, ready to address the past and find solutions. There’s still major issues, especially regarding Enji, that won’t be so easily solved just by this “truce” but right now, the family is working together, in a place of recovery and healing (as in the hospital as a narrative location)

Meanwhile Dabi is all alone. He’s currently staying in a manor previously established as a place of hate and death (CRC meeting spot), none of the League (or PLF) in sight. It’s the opposite of a hospital, it’s the opposite of a center of support. It doesn’t seem like he wants any. And it doesn’t seem like he’s willing to ask for any - not in that shonen friendship way the League has embodied. The League is more than willing - they took each other into the fold, they faced impossible battles together and came out with their bonds stronger, they’re prepared to die for each other. If Dabi had asked for help, they would’ve provided it.

But Dabi hasn’t. He’s essentially has done the opposite - he’s kept himself aloof from everyone, he engineered his reveal solely by himself, and he himself says that he cares for none of the League. Twice died right before his eyes, Toga ran off and he was too focused on his video to pay attention to her, and Compress has been captured helping the rest of the team escape. Shigaraki is currently out of commission and Spinner likely is pre-occupied with worrying over Shigaraki—

(In fact, Spinner! The only one left of the original League with Dabi, the one who’s currently holding Shonen Friendship Power in his hands. He and Dabi never got on well together: Dabi called him ‘lizard’, a fact that sticks to the mind even more so with the current setting being the CRC mansion where the League killed a bunch of people who also called Spinner ‘Lizard’ and in a meta-perspective, where readers first learn of this specific heteromorph discrimination and realized Dabi was being a giant asshole back during the highway ambush, turning a scene of what had seemed like light-hearted banter instead utterly sour.)

So Dabi is fighting this ‘war’ of his alone, fueled by hate, very much alone and continuing to be so in the foreseeable future (unless some sort of narrative object of newton’s law changes its trajectory); While his family have come together to stop/help/save him because of their love for Touya. It’s obvious who’s going to win that battle (the Todoroki family) but the question is, can Dabi make it to that point alive???

That aspect isn’t looking too good... Unless he does ask for help.

*

Current candidates are either Spinner (but as mentioned above, got his own dramatic emotional arc going on re: AFOmura) ... and Skeptic. “I thought you were good the moment I saw you, said Dabi” and surprise collaborator for the Reveal Broadcast and maybe-Nal-is-going-crazy-and-looking-way-too-deep-and-WRONG-but-hey-everyone-should-know-LongHair’s-first-name-Tomoyasu-has-the-literal-characters-for-‘friend’-and-‘support’... Skeptic.

(Another candidate: AFO, technically)

Lost the main thread of idea up there somewhere sorry but basically 1) juxtaposition of Alone and Falling Apart Dabi vs. the newly Re-united and Ready To Work Together Todoroki Family which will make for an interesting and very thematic conflict clash; and 2) or will the League or someone else become unexpected allies to Dabi, which 3) would possibly turn this straightforward family story arc into something else, whatever that is.

[bikerjongho]

the library of wonder | ateez ot8

genre: historical fiction, horror, adventure, fantasy

characters: warrior!ateez ot8

description: Religious radicals in the Joseon Dynasty, the self-proclaimed Anti-Rhythm Riders cult does everything in their power to destroy anything and anyone that violates their sacred Code of Conduct.

word count: 5.8k

warnings: violence, murder, maiming, ableism, graphic description of a dead body, radical religion, blood

author’s note: what happens when you combine the library of alexandria with ateez? this fic. this is the third addition to the ateez music video series whose masterlist (which lists the rest of them) is here. Also to note that this is part 1 of a series that I will continue later. The subsequent parts will be connected to different music videos.

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant​ @blueprint-han​ @doievoir​ @bvlnoriyas

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Weapons were a way to show the power of a king. Mounted and gleaming, the spears of King Yoongi of the Joseon Dynasty stood on either side of his elegant and golden throne like guards at the ready. On the walls that surrounded the throne from the left and right were an impressive display of bows and an array of fine arrows to accompany them. On the floor, King Yoongi's head lolled, blood pouring out of its severed end as Hongjoong sheathed the King's sword that was on his wall only moments before.

Beside the King's head and body on the floor, his recently deceased personal guard lay with him. This was thanks to Hongjoong's two best short-distance fighters, Mingi and Seonghwa. The two of them eyed the royally red blood that gushed out of the King's severed neck as they sheathed their swords. The three of them wore nothing more than simple blue hanboks and had their long hair tied up in a topknot at the top of their head, traditional for common men of this age. But with the corpse of the most important man in the Dynasty at their feet and the smell of civil unrest in the air, the plain clothing and ordinary hair was far from an appropriate look for these men in this moment.

The King's sword was now sheathed at Hongjoong's side, but he was not yet finished with the king. Bending down to the severed head, Hongjoong ripped out all of the intricate pins and ties that the King's servants had put in his hair that morning. The King's luscious black hair spilled out at his feet, mixing with his blood and turning it burgundy. Hair was a symbol of status and power. Now that the King was dead, Hongjoong assumed he no longer needed his power. He extracted a dagger from a pocket of his hanbok and began cutting at where the King's scalp ended.

The hair obliged with the blade. Soon, the King's heap of hair rested in Hongjoong's hands, and he promptly tied it to keep the strands together. "Proof," Hongjoong whispered and shoved the hair into his hanbok. "Proof that the wretched King Yoongi is dead."

"May he rot in many Hells," Seonghwa murmured and bowed his head. Mingi followed suit, and then Hongjoong last. There was a method to their madness. They, along with a few other men, were leaders of an ancient group called the Anti-Rhythm Riders. They did no harm as long as no one provoked them. Their laws, while more modest and tight than most groups, religions, or cults, were mostly fair. But the Anti-Rhythm Riders were a bloodthirsty and arrogant group of people that took pride in their faith and murdered anyone that refused to also follow.

"You must understand," Hongjoong had said calmly to a screaming woman only weeks earlier. Despite his attempts to convert her, she wouldn't budge, leaving Hongjoong with only one choice. His eyes had darkened to a lifeless grey as he had stuck his hand into her abdomen and twisted her gut. "This is a death far more merciful than if The Chariot returned while you were still alive and not following Him," he had said, digging his nails into her body while she screamed. "Feel blessed that I have chosen to kill you and spare you of his wrath that is worse than this by tenfold."

The dead King at Hongjoong's feet was one of many who had been adamantly against the Anti-Rhythm Riders. But besides their penchant for murdering those that were not like them, their strict code of honor shaped them into contributing and positive members of society. Their code of laws requested that each member of the group brought forth the best version of themselves at all times. This included dressing appropriately and being able-bodied, so all Riders were in peak health and dressed like they respected themselves. But on the same side of the coin, it was imperative to closely follow the code of honor as a Rider, lest they be murdered in the same way a non-believer would. The Riders, no matter how devoted they were to their cause, could not step out of line.

Top physical health included never becoming blind, deaf, mute, or immobile, except in the cases of old age or a sickness, but even then, those members were socially separated from the rest of the Riders. Old believers and ill people dressed from head to toe in black clothing in order to not bring attention to themselves and their misfortune of owning a frail and weak body.

But King Yoongi had not perished because of his non-belief. Despite his non-belief, most Riders saw merit in a hierarchal leader. They had, with their teeth grit, kept him alive. What had caused his downfall was not a snap decision by a lone Rider. It was caused by The Library of Wonder.

"A man that has lost his way chooses to walk the path to eternal hell," Mingi quoted a founder as he kicked Yoongi's body as he walked by towards the exit of the throne room. Hongjoong gripped the hair in his pockets, then followed Mingi. Seonghwa followed last, shutting the doors to the throne room with a smile on his face.

When they walked outside, they were met with thunderous cries and applause. The rest of Hongjoong's elite and higher-up group stood waiting in the front of it all. Yunho, man with a spear and a smile that was a bit too comforting and cozy; Yeosang, a solemn man with a sword strapped to his side that was anything but that; San, producing an ugly and terrifying grin on his face as Hongjoong removed the King's ponytail from his pockets; Jongho, with his sharp eyes and sharper reflexes, infamous bow and arrows strapped to his chest and back, and Wooyoung, who thrusted his permanently bandaged and bloodied fists into the air and let out a cry of victory that seared across the mass of Riders and raised the temperature of their spirits.

"The King is dead, Riders," Hongjoong bellowed above the roaring crowd. "And now, we ride to the Library of Wonder." He was met with shouts of disapproval for the Library, and Hongjoong's lip curled upward. There was a section for arts and music in The Rider's code. It was allowed, but certain teachings of it, such as allowing it to manipulate emotions, was forbidden.

"There is a disease in the heart of man," The Riders heard all too frequently in their sermons and speeches. "The disease is human emotion."

The Library of Wonder promoted this diseased music. For years they had tried to defund the Library, encourage the King to focus his spending elsewhere, to change the Library so it did not promote these blasphemous ideas, and none had been successful.

"We can't have a King that has allowed such a violation of our code for this long," Hongjoong had said only a month before the assassination, neck deep in plans for the kill. His face had darkened against the flickering fire that was nearby, casting inhuman shadows across his features. The Anti-Rhythm Riders were not a majority in the Joseon Dynasty, and their following was hardly recognized as a religion at all, let alone the Dynasty's main religion - but they were a potent and loud minority.

And over the course of a year, Hongjoong had been collecting and persuading commoners with his silver tongue to join The Riders for the purpose of having an army. An army that would not only be large, but also be relentless and unstoppable. And as Hongjoong stood in front of these thousands of people fueled with anger for The Library, he believed his work to collect them all had been a success. San took over with controlling the crowd, his loud voice carrying over all of the chatter and yelling. He dictated to certain groups in the crowd to certain tasks, such as loading wood onto the backs of their traveling cows or oiling up weapons and lighters. Fire, Hongjoong had decided, would be the ideal move to destroy the library. It would burn all of the texts that he and so many others hated with no hope of replicating them.

Amidst the screams, Yunho saddled up next to Hongjoong. One of Hongjoong's most efficient and silent warriors in the team, he was an asset that had carried them far. He couldn't stop smiling. Hongjoong knew that this day was huge for him - huge for all of them. Killing the King had been a goal point of their plan. Now all that was left was to destroy The Library of Wonder.

"Do you have any hangwa?" He asked, and Hongjoong was mildly bemused at how casual he was. He had just seen him slice the arm off of a palace soldier only fifteen minutes prior.

"I do," Hongjoong answered anyway, shuffling around in his bag before pulling out a packet of hangwa, assorted Korean cookies. He pushed it towards him, and Yunho happily dug in. "Time to rally the troops," he said, starting up a conversation.

"Well, it's easy to do that when persuasion rolls off of the tongue like leaves blow in the wind," Yunho said, mouth full of cookie. Yunho was referring to The Riders' way of persuasion and how it borderlined with magical coercing. In many ways, it was magical. Hongjoong theorized it had to do with how devoted and powerful many of The Riders were. It was The Chariot's doing that allowed his followers the ability of masterful persuasion.

It was also the reason why they had amassed so many people for their invasion so quickly. Many of them had knocked on doors and preached in the streets. As long as someone could hear them, people joined their cause.

The Riders left immediately after their supplies and weapons were loaded into traveling bags and onto the backs of animals. Hours after they had left on their journey to the Library, Jongho was ready to rally the troops for a special tradition. Having just climbed onto a travelling horse, he was raised above the crowd. His long and dark hair flickered around his face as he assessed the mass of walking Riders. The time must have felt correct to him, for he then raised his arms over the crowd, a move he had done many times.

This move caught the attention of many Riders, but his projecting and powerful voice was what roped in the rest. Jongho sang a mid-range note that silenced what little noise was left from the crowd. The Riders stopped what they were doing in order to match his note. Hongjoong and Yunho followed suit out of habit. The earth rumbled with the thousands of voices of the Riders.

There was an air to the main vocalist now that all of the attention was on him. Something lurked in the darker hues of his eyes, something that looked like power, and it showed itself through how he now moved and sang. His voice, still louder than the crowd's, rose up a note. The dissonance of the pitches only lasted for a moment before the crowd went down a note, creating a harmony. Jongho closed the fingers on his left hand into a fist and the women of the Riders adjusted their note. A minor harmony emerged from the chord.

None of the voices were completely perfect, except for maybe Jongho's. But all voices bowed at the command of Jongho's hands that were, in a way, conducting an old vocal ritual created by and for their religion. The choir was used to grab the attention of all Riders, but it was used equally as a morale booster. Hongjoong glanced at Yeosang, his sword gleaming with menace at his side, and raised his eyebrows.

Yeosang caught his eyes and sifted through the crowd to him. "Why is Jongho doing the Chariot Chant?" He hissed under the singing as the swordsman came close to him. He had seen Jongho and Yeosang together only a quarter of an hour prior. And while the choir was mainly for enjoyment, it was sometimes used as a distraction from something that the higher-up Riders didn't want the rest of their group to know about. Hongjoong feared something had come up despite his meticulous planning, and he assumed that Yeosang knew about the problem if there was one. "We didn't plan one. What is he diverting?"

Yeosang, in charge of the artillery, looked at Jongho on the horse. "Some of our artillery is failing," he said, his eyes the color of stone. "Some of our men and women notified me of a few issues our cannons are having. I inspected them myself and have found that they are correct. I assume this was the throne's last stand against us." His frown deepened. "I theorize our original plan for the Library can't be used now."

A smile appeared on Hongjoong's lips, mirroring Yeosang's disapproving frown. The original plan was to partially blow up the library before burning it, suggested by Yeosang, but Hongjoong had been against it. He wanted the library to be aflame as soon and for as long as possible, but he had been outnumbered by most of his group. Hongjoong's method would endanger more Rider's lives at the expense of his selfish love for fire. Unprecedented death of Riders was certainly a reason for Jongho to begin a distracting chant. He wouldn't have started it if he had thought Hongjoong's plan would go to fruition.

"So we go with my plan," Hongjoong smirked at the artillery leader. Yeosang pursed his lips and, for a moment, said nothing.

"I will think about our other options," Yeosang murmured. "Ones that will, perhaps, be less taxing on us. Don't think for a second that Jongho's calling to action means your plan will now be enacted," he said with a hint of irritation. He said no more, sweeping himself back into the crowds towards the animals helping carry the artillery, leaving Hongjoong with his thoughts and a smile still plastered to his face.

Hongjoong was the unofficial leader of the Riders, but he still wanted to deal with decisions diplomatically. So, after an hour of caroling with Jongho, Hongjoong rounded up the seven of them to talk about their plan of attack on the library.

They formed a line as they walked and saddled beside the cattle and horses that carried the artillery. Seonghwa and Wooyoung gravitated towards Hongjoong in the line. The two of them had been the members to agree with Hongjoong's less rational plan of setting fire to the library immediately upon arrival, but they had ultimately been overruled by the other five that had agreed to Yeosang's safer plan.

"So, fire immediately?" Wooyoung asked everyone once Hongjoong explained to them their situation, but his eyes were locked onto Hongjoong. Yeosang raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Not quite," Hongjoong said evenly, turning his attention to Yeosang, who now had his arms crossed. "Let's see what our artillery man has to say."

"If the First Army successfully purged the library of people," Yeosang said, referring to a subset of the Riders that had left for the library a day earlier, "then we should have a clean and easy shot to do whatever we want to the library. Word won't spread that we invaded it until it's already a pile of rubble." Some of them bowed their heads in appreciation for that statement.

"That being said," Yeosang continued, "we have about half the amount of cannons I'd like to have. We still have swords, but that won't do much against the hard material of the building." He grabbed the hilt of his sword at his side instinctively. "We still have torches and the building is flammable."

"And bow and arrows," Yunho cut in, lifting up Jongho's bow from his back. Jongho glared at him.

"Arrows that can carry flame," Yeosang sighed, and Seonghwa's lip curled up. "I truly have exhausted my thoughts and exhausted them some more. Many weapons from home could have been used for a different attack, but we're too far to turn back now." They were all experienced enough fighters to realize where Yeosang was going.

"Fire," Hongjoong smiled, and Yeosang looked weary.

"Fire," he sighed in agreement.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa exploded into hisses of victory. Wooyoung punched his fist into the air. "Hell yes," he said, shaking his bandaged wrist in front of him.

"Should we tell them?" Yeosang asked, gesturing to the entire herd of Riders that were traveling with them as a few of the members dispersed from the group. Yeosang meant the increased danger that came with their sudden change of plans. Hongjoong adjusted the bag on his back and grinned.

"They know what they're getting into," Hongjoong smiled. "But even if they don't, they'll do it anyway. They love The Chariot too much to refuse to do something." Hongjoong flicked a cocky smile at Yeosang, who could only sigh and nod. While it was not his favorite plan, it was a plan that still accomplished the destruction of the library, which was a goal all of them wanted to achieve regardless of the means.

And while Riders didn't like injuring other Riders, self-preservation overtook any feelings they had for their lower Rider acquaintances. If Yeosang could remain without burn scars and seared lungs while someone else did, then it was simply a means to an end. The library was destined to go down by the careful hands of the Riders, one way or another.

It took another day for the riders to reach The Library of Wonder, and when they did, it was a wonder to behold. Sculpted with stone and wood, it was an incredible feat of architecture in the Joseon Dynasty. Great stone columns supported the front of the building, and a stone statue of a beautiful woman with long hair and a scroll in her hands greeted library goers at the entrance.

Wooyoung yanked out a club from the pockets of his blue hanbok and swung at the lady without warning. He took off part of her chest and her entire left arm and was met with roars of approval and laughter. "At the ready!" Hongjoong yelled over the laughing crowds, and Riders began fishing their weapons out of their pockets. These weapons were mostly bows and arrows, but like Wooyoung, a few clubs were seen. Jongho was among those with bow and arrows, slinging his trusty bow from around his shoulder to the front of his body.

But bow and arrows weren't the correct term for the weapon Jongho and many of the other Riders had. His bow and arrows were of a narrower Korean variety called the singijeon. The singijeon worked much like traditional bow and arrows, but gunpowder was held in the arrows.

He now had his bow cocked and ready and his hands clutched a wooden arrow with a ball of gunpowder nestled close to the tip of the arrow. Jongho pulled back with his left hand and released the arrow. The Riders watched as it soared through the heat of the sun and made contact with the middle of the entry wall of the Library. As soon as the arrow hit the wall, the gunpowder activated and blew a hole in it.

Many more singijeon became useful and created more holes in the Library and smoke in the air. It was almost too easy to destroy the Library. It crumbled more and more with each hit like it was destiny for the great building to fall. Soon enough, the wall was completely gone and the Riders rejoiced in their work.

Mingi appeared at the front of the crowd, a tall presence marked even more visible by the torch of fire he held in his hands. Behind him, Yeosang carried a similar torch and was passing the fire to other torches held by other Riders, who were then passing the fire to others around them like believers in a church service would. There was no fire in Yeosang's eyes despite the lit torch in his hands.

"Riders," Mingi shouted and stepped over the rubbled wall that the Riders had just destroyed. He tilted his head down and grinned while surveying the crowd. Then, he elegantly walked over to the first shelf of the Library and let his torch make contact with the last book on the shelf. It took the fire with no issues, becoming an incendiary in moments. The book was quick to share the flames with the paper around it, and soon the entire shelf glowed with fire. Mingi was quick to exit the library as Riders poured into the Library with their torches and began setting the books aflame.

Yeosang, though his eyes were grim with the disapproval of how the Riders were proceeding, was smiling. While their method wasn't the safest or most practical, the Library that had been up for so long was finally being destroyed. The eight Riders watched a safe distance away as their lesser brethren raced into the Library like packs of overexcited hyenas. Many of them likely didn't know what they were fighting for, but they were moths drawn to flame, entranced by the beauty and cruelty of destruction.

Wooyoung smiled while the fire casted red and orange light on his face. "The Library is not exactly a slow-burn, is it?" He said softly as the fire ravenously ate through the texts.

"It's not," Yunho agreed with him. "Especially with the leftover gunpowder from all of the singijeon. Gunpowder revels with fire."

The eight of them watched the Library eat itself in the flames from a safe distance away. It was comical how some Riders passionately drove into the collapsing Library with a torch in their hands and emerged with burns and much less enthusiasm. Sometimes they didn't reappear at all. That feeling caused a bit of discomfort to some of them, but Hongjoong reveled in their discomfort. It just showed how dedicated they were to The Chariot, and Hongjoong was proud of them for their dedication.

It took a half an hour for the great stone Library of Wonder to turn into a charred and wasteful hunk of rock. The papery books had succumbed too easily to the flames and all that was left on the inside of the Library were ashes and the remnant memories of books lost forever. The fire was less of a roar and more whispery and trapped now, only burning the book it was on and not passing its flame to other books.

San was now on top of a horse and rallying the troops to receive medical attention if they needed any and congratulated them on their efforts. "The Chariot is proud of us, Riders," he said, beaming. Some Riders returned a smile, others were too hurt to acknowledge San. "As our great laws say, the disease in the heart of man is human emotion. These books would have spread that harmful message had we not burned them down. For that, He is eternally grateful for your efforts."

San hopped off of the horse and joined the other seven Riders in preparing for the return trip. Behind them, the last of the flames were dying out. Riders still in the Library were stumbling out of the burned rubble. There were likely bodies of Riders that were dead inside of the Library and others that were alive but had succumbed themselves to imperfections of their physical features. And while they had given a valiant effort in destroying the Library, that was a violation of The Rider's code. They would have to cover up if they wished to remain a Rider.

But something else lurked in the rubble as well. All Riders wore blue, but a man in red was now present behind a collapsing and charred bookshelf. His ethnicity, like the Riders, was Korean, but his skin and eyes held heavy years and knowledge of many more cultures and lands that the Riders could only dream of touching. His long black hair was knotted at the back of his head, and beneath his bulging arm muscles was a lengthy silver sword with a red hilt.

But perhaps his most distinguishing feature was the long scar that travelled from his left eyebrow, through his eye, down his cheek, ending right at the tip of his lip. The scar made the left side of his lips permanently downturned. Such a scar directly violated The Rider's code, but this man was above that religion and the laws that it held. This man was Ares, the god of war. And Ares, who thrived in bloodshed and carried the spirit of warfare wherever he walked, was not impressed with the warfare that had gone on at this library.

Yunho noticed him first. He was surveying the Library's remains when he saw the man's hulking figure amidst the ashes like a phoenix. "Hongjoong," he whispered and nudged him. He nodded his head towards the Library.

Hongjoong, who was overseeing a group of Riders, looked over at the Library. Ares locked eyes with him and Hongjoong's blood ran cold. He had no idea who this man was, but he was someone that could send shivers down Hongjoong's spine. There weren't many people that could do that.

Hongjoong took a step forward to address this man, but Ares was already ahead of him.

"So-called Riders," Ares boomed across the land, his voice easily the loudest in the vicinity yet there was no visible effort on his face to make himself heard over everyone. His thigh muscles rippled as he stepped over what was left of the wall. His face was flooded with unfiltered rage.

The rest of the Riders, who had been focused on returning home, froze in their efforts. All eyes were on the giant and muscular man seething in front of them.

Seonghwa grabbed the knife at his side and glanced at Hongjoong for permission. In any other circumstance, Hongjoong would have let him have it. Instead, he softly shook his head, and held his hand in front of Jongho when he realized he was drawing his bow. There was something about this man that Hongjoong did not want to provoke, but the steam coming from his head was proof that he had already been provoked enough. Hongjoong gulped and tried to calm his racing heart.

"I'm Ares, the God of War," the muscled man thundered, and no one was brave enough to disagree with him. He certainly looked the part. Now that he was closer, Hongjoong could see the long scar across his face and wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"You-" Ares began, but he was cut off as a singijeon arrow flew through the air directly towards his face. Hongjoong turned and saw that it was from a young and male Rider, gripping his bow so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Ares didn't flinch at this unexpected attack. With a practiced and weathered hand, he caught the arrow between his fingers. The Riders were stunned. His hand twitched and the arrow snapped in half. "Cute," he muttered, letting it crumble to the ground in his hands. He turned towards the teenage Rider who had shot the arrow and gave him a smile.

Hongjoong began to step forward. He wasn't sure what he was to do for the boy, he wanted to help - but Ares was too quick. With a flick of his hand not unlike the motion he had done with the arrow, the teenage boy jerked inhumanly backward with a loud crack. With his spine completely in two, he toppled over himself backwards onto the ground. His face was lifelessly frozen in shock, and the clear God of War smiled with satisfaction at the work he had done.

A few muffled sobs prevented silence. "Let me speak," Ares said carefully to the crowd, his eyes traveling over them all like he was sizing them up. This time, no one argued.

"Riders," Ares began. "You've burned down The Library of Wonder and all of the wonders it contained. Do you even understand the weight of that action?"

Ares looked directly at Hongjoong and he felt obliged to speak. "The books hold untrue and unsafe messages," Hongjoong spoke to Ares, his knees quivering underneath his pants. He didn't remember his voice sounding so small. "We had to rid them of this world. They have no place here except as smoke and ash. It is The Chariot's wish and creed."

"And your Chariot is nothing more than a weak and ailing minor god," Ares said cooly back to him. It took everything in Hongjoong's power to not curse him out for insulting his god - but he didn't want to end up like the young Rider.

"I know him," Ares continued. "He laughs at the lengths you do for him. He himself knows he is pathetic, but he enjoys seeing humans like you quiver and worship him. And I normally don't bat an eye to his or your shenanigans, I have better things to worry about, other worlds that are far more entertaining than this one," Ares said.

His eyes darkened. "But burning down my wife's Library broke her. So, in turn, you have to deal with me."

Hongjoong realized in horror what he meant. He idly thought of Wooyoung's gleeful act of smashing the statue of the goddess at the front of the Library. He wanted to throw up. Wooyoung looked like he wanted to throw up.

"So I've made it my personal game to make your lives a living hell," Ares said with a smile. "Because no one hurts my wife." He shifted his attention, not just towards Hongjoong, but to the other seven of his teammates crowded around him. They all froze. Hongjoong felt Mingi tense beside him.

"You Riders are simply too vocal for my taste," Ares glared. "The Chariot gives you the power of persuasion because it amuses him, so you all go around recruiting mindless humans to follow your so-called religion. But it is not funny in the slightest." His eyes swiveled to Jongho and his smile widened. "Doesn't this one sing?"

Hongjoong heard Jongho intake a terrified breath. He heard a sudden movement, and then Jongho had taken off running in the opposite direction as Ares. But Jongho was an ant and Ares was a stone. Hongjoong blinked and Ares was in front of the singer.

Jongho was strong, but he was nothing compared to a god. He began screaming as Ares picked him up by the throat, crying out to the Chariot, to his mother, to Hongjoong, to anyone that was listening, but he received no answer. Tears ran down his face and he kicked to be set free. Only his scream, which vastly contrasted his usual mesmerizing singing voice, cut through the air, and then he was abruptly silenced by Ares.

Ares dropped Jongho to the ground at his feet, and the boy continued his sobs in a crumpled mess. But his sobs lacked the voice, no matter how anguished it would have been right now, that the Riders had grown to love.

"He has no more use for his vocal cords," Ares smiled, and Hongjoong's heart dropped to his feet. Jongho had loved his voice. Everyone had loved his voice. Ares looked at the rest of them, and he realized with horror that he was not close to being done with them. "A shame, isn't it?" Ares laughed and stepped over Jongho's shaking body. "Your law says you are to never become mute, lest you want to remain a Rider. Seems like a bit of an issue, does it not?"

Hongjoong tried to move his legs, but he found himself frozen in place. He wasn't sure if it was his own body trying to protect him from harm or Ares immobilizing him, but he could only stare in sickening awe as one by one, Ares stole the voices of every Rider present. For some, he waved his hand and an entire group of people were silenced. Others, like those in Hongjoong's close team, had a solo maiming in front of everyone. No one was spared from Ares' destruction, especially not Hongjoong.

When he was finished, the sea of Riders were silent.

"Now I won't be interrupted," Ares said cheerfully, worlds happier than he was when he first arrived at the library. The hulking man had taken it upon himself to move Jongho's limp and shaking form back to the other seven of them.

"You eight are especially troublesome," Ares whispered, because there was no voice that could be above him. "For that, you have a special place in my personal hell. And now, I will take you to your own personal hell."

Ares raised his hand, and the library in the horizon vanished from view. For a moment, Hongjoong could see nothing, and then a beige wall of a house clouded his vision.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to cry out, but the attempt was fruitless.

"Your own personal hell," Ares said softly, suddenly beside him. The god placed a hand on Hongjoong's shoulder, a soft gesture that a father might do to a son. "You and your seven other friends are in, what I call, a timeout mansion. It is a place that you cannot leave or escape from, so I advise you to not even attempt that. You will sit and you will gaze at the fine art and architecture that this mansion has to offer," Ares said, his words puncturing. "You will be in aching emotional pain because all of this art is, as you call it, a disease to your human heart." Ares rubbed his back while Hongjoong held back tears. "And you will grow to love it."

The god stood up from beside Hongjoong. "That is your answer to escaping. An answer that you must vocalize and preach if you are to ever leave here." Ares smiled at him, and the scar that touched his eye, cheek, and lip curled up with it. And then he was gone, and Hongjoong's hope left with him.

For a few moments, Hongjoong stared at the floor. Then, shaking, he raised his right hand.

There is a disease in the heart of man, Hongjoong thought and touched his chest over his heart. His heart was racing like he had never felt before.

The disease is in me.

[sondepoch]

Do You Regret It? (Lucifer x Reader)

Lucifer’s pact mark is a reflection of his pride: subtle, yet demanding all the attention. Small, yet impossible to miss. Delicate, yet overpowering everything else. One day, he catches you staring at it. And he asks you a question.

~Oneshot 

MASTERLIST

"Do you regret it?"

You spin around to the source of the voice, flashing the intruder a disapproving stare once your eyes settle over the familiar figure.

"You need to start knocking," You mutter, crossing your arms. It's not the first time you've made the request; Lucifer has heard it from your lips a thousand times before. But never have you meant it so wholeheartedly. After all, it's at times like these when you need Lucifer to knock the most, times when you're vulnerable and concerned and completely lost to the world around you.

Lucifer simply laughs, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he walks forward.

He's quick to trap you in an embrace, one that's slightly reluctant on your end. And yet, you can't help but relax when he gently presses your back to his chest, turning you around so that you're facing the mirror once more. His fingers trail from your cheek to your jaw, angling your chin upward just the slightest so that he has better access to your face, and though you can tell he's staring straight at your face through the mirror, you know it's not your eyes he's looking at.

"Do you regret it?" He repeats, and this time, his voice is even softer. His gaze shifts just the slightest, and now you know he really is looking you straight in the eye.

You stare at him for a second, trying to figure out what's going through his mind. What does he want you to say? That you like having your face branded with his mark, that you enjoy the stares it's already earned you from the other demons?

Your gaze drops, and you stare at your reflection. Trying your hardest to ignore the delicate diamond positioned on your forehead.

Silence.

And then the sound of your reluctant sigh.

"I don't know," You finally confess, sheepishly raising your gaze to Lucifer. "It's just…"

"Strange?" He asks, chuckling.

You nod. "It's like I can feel it on me. Even when I'm not looking at it. And the moment I forget, others stare at it, and I remember all over again…"

Lucifer sighs softly, pulling you away from the mirror and onto your bed. The structure itself is quite giant, but Lucifer insists on keeping you close as he effortlessly lifts your body onto it, settling you down on his lap.

It's the first time he's held you close in any place other than his own study or bedroom, but you don't mention it as he presses your back against his chest, gently stroking your hair. It's oddly intimate, you think. More intimate and more loving than anything you've ever done with the Avatar of Pride.

"Do you know why demonic pacts manifest in the form of markings on the human body?" He asks abruptly.

"To show that we belong to you?" It's your best guess. "So that we don't forget?"

"Close," Lucifer murmurs. "But not quite. Just as you give us a piece of your freedom when you bind yourself to us, the exchange is completed only once we've bound part of our essence to you."

Lucifer's hand trails from your hair to your stomach, his palm flattening against the surface of your abdomen. He's seen you naked enough times to know exactly how large the pact mark there is, and a shudder runs down your spine the second his fingers make contact with the skin there, a rush of magic swelling through your body.

"Beel," He whispers into your ear. "He passed a piece of his gluttony to you when the pact formed. Your hunger is no longer yours, but mixed with his own."

"Levi." He taps at the spot above your heart. "You see the world through his lens, now. You may not realize it, but his envy has seeped into your life, and you will never be free from it."

"Mammon," Lucifer murmurs, his hand sliding to behind your back. "His greed is easy to forget, but it always lurks in the depths of your heart. At the back, where you may never notice it, but always present and eternally fueling your desire for more."

"Asmo." Lucifer slips a hand under your shirt and taps your side, running his fingers along the pact mark that wraps around the thinnest part of your waist. He doesn't need to explain this one, doesn't need to explain how the fifth-born has bound you with a belt that forever holds you close to his lust. "Belphie," He gestures, glancing toward the pact mark that snakes up your left leg, just as sloth itself has you caught in a silent pull that always compels you to its side for just five more minutes of whatever indolence you allow yourself to indulge in. "Satan," He finishes, tapping the back of your neck, just underneath your brain, where your blood pounds loudest on the rare occasion when you give in to the temptation wrath.

"You have each of us inside you, and you can never free yourself of our sins."

Lucifer offers you a soft smile, withdrawing his hands from your body in favor of cupping your cheek.

"And now…" He murmurs, gazing up.

You watch as his gaze traces the pact mark on your forehead, studying it intently as if he could stare at it for centuries.

Pride, you see in his gaze. There's no denying it—no denying the proud look in his eyes as he stares upon your face, now marked with the very same symbol of his own, true form.

Lucifer licks his lips.

His pact mark is by far the smallest when compared to the rest of his brothers, and yet it stands out the most. Much like the Morningstar itself, his pride binds you quietly, impossibly small but louder than all else. He doesn't need a giant pact mark like Beel, or one that wraps around your entire waist like Asmo, to assert his charge over you.

All it takes is a small diamond.

Something runs down your body as you watch him continue to study you, and for the first time, you register it as pride that possesses you, pulsating quietly but distinctly from the small etching on your forehead.

"You're perfect," Lucifer whispers, and now he's not staring at the mark but is staring at your eyes, and you know that you've never looked as enticing to him before as you must look now, your own face a testimony to the fact that you belong to each other. "All of you."

And with this sudden confidence possessing you, there's no hesitation as you close the gap between your lips in a single, fluid movement, locking your lips against Lucifer's with such certainty that there's no room for doubt before the two of you are moving against each other, shifting and gasping and moaning.

You close your eyes and lose yourself in the sensation as Lucifer takes control, pushing you down on the bed.

How many times have you been through this before? A quiet cry spills from your lips when the demon nips at your neck, and your arms fly around his chest to pull him even closer.

You open your eyes when you feel a shift above you, a sudden wave of power washing through your bodies, and you blink when the sight before you registers.

Horns.

You gasp lightly.

And wings.

Your eyes trail to Lucifer's face, trained on the black mark that looks oh-so-natural against the demon's porcelain skin as he hovers above you in his true form.

"This is what it means to be mine," He says, his words ringing richly through your ears. Your mouth hangs open just the slightest, staring in awe as Lucifer's hard gaze washes over you. His eyes have never looked as serious as they look now, staring at you so intently that you can't even break his gaze to look up at the beautiful mark that now seems to complete his face. "Do you regret taking my pride, taking my burden?"

My pride.

You stare deep into Lucifer's eyes, past the brilliant crimson, and into the abyss of emotion that lies underneath.

My burden.

Your eyes raise to the mark on his forehead, a mark so distinctive that it brands him even now—an emblem that tells Lucifer's entire tale, from his grace to his fall, in a single marking.

And you understand.

Lucifer's pact is one that you cannot bear unless you have the pride to go with it. It is a natural fuel for the confidence that already exists within your heart, not just a piece of Lucifer's pride but a design meant to propel your own to match his, binding you two together by something more intimate than even the closeness you already share.

"Do you regret it?!"

Lucifer's grip on your wrists tighten, and you see the beginnings of anger begin to swirl in those beautiful eyes of his as you keep him waiting. His tone, meant to come across as demanding and formidable, sounds nothing but painfully genuine as his question falls upon your ears, and you feel blissfully calm as you gaze up at him.

"No," You whisper, silently removing your wrists from Lucifer's hold. You raise your hands to cup his cheeks, not missing the way his eyes widen as you do so.

Before, you would never have dared to try something so bold with the firstborn demon, always leaving it up to him to take control of the situation and tell you with his actions what would and wouldn't be permitted. But now, the pride Lucifer has kindled in your heart burns a brilliant blaze, one that acts as a fiery shield that protects you from anything or anyone that might try to hurt you.

You move one of your hands from Lucifer's cheek to the back of his head, threading your fingers through the raven locks and gently pushing his head down until your foreheads are touching.

You close your eyes.

The sensation of power and pride washes over you, the diamond on your forehead seeming to pulsate in response to the one on Lucifer's own. You feel nothing but peace as you bask in the sensation.

"I don't."

MASTERLIST

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: i keep telling myself that im not a lucifer stan, but ive written over 60k words of JUST him so maybe im lying to myself idk anymore man

Comment & Like

Thank you for reading <3

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

[chidoroki]

Norman - 22194

March 21st is here and it’s time for yet another birthday post. I already rambled on about Emma and Ray on their special days, so now it’s finally time to complete this full-score tradition with Norman. It might not be as detailed or long as the other two, since he was absent for a good chunk of the story, but it doesn’t make him any less important! I’ll be honest now, the boy isn’t my favorite character (he doesn’t place anywhere in my top ten for this series either) so I probably missed some moments worth mentioning but I did my best to praise this child anyway!

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m once again going from start to finish with this.)

Since I want to stay consistent with the other two posts, this will focus on the manga timeline, as season 2 is, well.. it’s own thing. I’ll mention some things but don’t count on much. With that, let’s go.

- He achieves a perfect score on Grace Field’s daily tests, alongside Emma and Ray.

- He is, without a doubt, the smartest kid the house has ever seen, as he passes each test flawlessly and has maintained a 300 average.

- He’s a complete strategist who is capable of achieving victory (even in something simple as tag) by observing his opponents moves and analyzing their weaknesses in order to counter.

- Knows how to pick locks. The scene from ch1 was left out but we see him doing so later on in ep02.

- Stays relatively positive and calm after learning about the truth of the farm.

- Even going as far as giving Emma a reassuring smile, which I think is impressive given the literal nightmare fuel they’ve just witnessed. 

- I’m giving him half credit for suggesting the idea of there being tracking devices, since anime has him reveal this possibility while in manga it’s Emma.

- Both of them realize what determines the shipping order and that the demons favor their brains.

- This silly panel that I love dearly.

- Made sure to do a sweep of the entire house beforehand to make sure their escape planning doesn’t get pick up on.

- Figures out that Isabella only knows the children’s locations when she checks the tracker and that it can’t identify who is who.

- Has the nerve to lie right to Isabella’s face.. not that she believes it, but still gutsy nonetheless.

- Knowing the house probably wouldn’t have any rope, it was his idea to use the spare tablecloths.

- Had a feeling that Ray would reveal the harsh reality of how dangerous it would be to escape with all the children, which turns out to be correct.

- His laugh in ep02 is so precious.

- This statement being 100% accurate.

- Manages to convince the logical Ray, who we know now has spent many years coming up with a solid, safer escape plan, to join in and assist with their crazy and reckless plan instead. Having Ray on their side also grants them many advantages.

- Absolutely hates to lose, which is a good mentality to have in a world where your life is a stake and your time is limited, which eventually leads him to consider every possible opportunity to stay ahead of his enemies throughout the remainder of the story.

- Realizes that the trackers must only send out a signal upon being broken, which we found out to be true in Ray’s one-shot chapter.

- - Him looking completely terrified in this panel.

- He managed to catch all the Grace Field kids in a game of tag even after they received advice from Ray about how to survive longer.

- The goddamn intimidating energy he gives off here is fantastic.

- Despite his body being physically weak, he manages to survive and win against Krone during their game of tag.

- Just like Ray some couple chapters ago, Norman is completely serious about this idea.

- Suspects there’s a traitor among the kids and swiftly comes up with a plan to lure them out.

- This panel of him “dead” from the first side story.

- He has a feeling the spy is Ray, so he moves up the day of the escape to catch him off guard and send him into a panic.

- Even though the anime didn’t include it, he managed to throw off Krone as well with some fake footprints to keep her off their backs.

- Was honestly considering on leaving the spy behind while the rest of them escaped, though he doesn’t seem real happy about the idea, considering the traitor is Ray.

- His plan on fishing out the spy was flawless as he finally calls Ray out by revealing that the information he gave about the ropes and where he hid them were fake locations.

- Not only was Ray the first one Norman suspected, but he caught onto him way back when Krone first came to the house. All the information Ray was feeding them helped Norman come to this conclusion as well.

- Along with Emma’s words about believing that no one in their family is truly bad, Norman refrains from cutting Ray off to allow him to become their trump card. This was a risky move itself, knowing Ray could sell both him & Emma out at any time. Norman tends to prioritize victory, so while staying alive is absolutely necessary and that could’ve been achieved without Ray (as he could’ve just used Ray then ditch him later), he still decides to make the offer as realizes that in order defeat Isabella, Ray’s full cooperation is essential.

- Realizes that it was Ray who hid Little Bunny in the first place and lead Norman and Emma to investigate the gate that night, which leads him to believe that Ray isn’t really an enemy.

- He’s also left handed. Yes, that’s important. Not only for later in the story but because we’re superior. I’m sorry y’all had to find out this way. 

- This stupid, little face he makes.

- Suspects that Ray doesn’t actually plan on escaping at all and intends to kill himself.

- Just like Emma and Ray, Norman also recognizes and understands morse code.

- Look at this precious child, not even angry after getting punched and knocked over. (because i certainly would be)

- Finds Ray’s hidden supply of oil which confirms the method for his future suicide. This also helps Norman later on when he comes up with a refined escape plan by using the fire Ray plans to start.

- Figures out Krone’s true intention about why she wants to join forces with the kids in the first place. 

- He ends up accepting Krone’s offer anyway, because despite the large risk, any information that can snag out of her would benefit them.

- You mad lad, look at you, taunting the bringer of death yet again while a smile on your face.

- And he still manages to find some strength to smile while upon death’s door.

- Not for long though, as once he’s given the chance to be alone, he finally breaks down. Having the cup overflow with water really helps demonstrate how impactful the thought of dying hit him as Norman was overcome with so many emotions that he didn’t even have the strength to hold onto the cup or his facade. It’s then he starts to feel scared and sorry for himself but away from Emma and Ray’s eyes as to not worry them.

- His entire internal monologue as he comes to terms with his unfortunate situation and flips back to his determined “I can’t lose” attitude to help everyone else escape. Also, his theme ‘22194’ hits especially hard.

- For someone with weak, physical abilities, he manages to climb the wall on his own.

- Though the cliff stopped his escape, he used that opportunity to survey the surrounding area of the entire farm to rely his findings to the duo and provide them a safer escape route.

- Completely adamant about his decision to accept his shipment in order to give the rest of his family a chance to escape. (hell, id’ be terrified right now)

- This hug that is sure to break everyone’s hearts.

- Quick to react to Emma’s last ditch effort and prevented her from slamming her already busted up leg into the ground.

- Not only did he predict that Ray would start a fire to distract Isabella and on which day, he also left behind the pen and key he received from Krone along with a new, detailed plan (which he managed to come up with in only a few hours by the way) that would allow the kids to cross over the cliff.

(post season one spoilers below. again, focusing on the manga timeline, so any new season 2 events will be mentioned sparingly.)

- Like Ray, Norman was able to figure out how the pen worked well enough to see Minerva’s message regarding B06-32.

- Since he doesn’t show up again for quite some time post-escape, there isn’t much to talk about.. but at least I can make fun of him thanks to extra pages, like how he wouldn’t have enough strength to use a bow.

- But hey, props to s2ep10 for actually giving us Norman shooting an arrow. He was pretty decent with it too, as he hit his target on the first try behind a darn smokescreen. The manga did show him holding a bow in ch161, but that’s it.

- Not relevant to the actual story at all, but his smarts certainly make anything possible.

- I’m sorry but these tiny failures of his bring me great joy.

- Though the tests at Lambda are harder than those at Grace Field, Norman still managed to get every question correct. Every single day he was there. Even when the facility manages to increase the difficulty of the tests, he continues to pass each one with flying colors.

- Since he noticed someone who’s right handed also takes the same tests he does, he makes an attempt to communicate with them via a Rubik’s cube. He waits patiently for five months until he finally gets a response from Vincent around Christmas 2046. 

- Dealt with the experiments/drugs that were forced onto him and the seizures that resulted from them.

- Even with the tight security and surveillance, he somehow acquired explosives and successfully blow up Lambda and escapes with the survivors.

- Again, not significant to the story, but seriously dude? You just fainted and yet you still get this crazy question right effortlessly?

(post time-skip)

- Contacts Lucas moments before the B06-32 shelter gets blown up and gives him the numeric code that eventually leads Emma’s group to the “Jaw of Lion.”

- Destroyed numerous mass production farms since his escape from Lambda.

- As well as save countless children from other farms and used the Paradise shelter found by Smee’s network to give them a sense of safety and taste of a normal life.

- The darn glow-up he receives, like sweet lord child, are you sure you’re still 13??

- - His cute, squishy cheeks though!

- He may look like he’s in his thirties, but still has the strength of a child. (see anime? this is how strong ray’s slap should have been!)

- Learned a great deal of demon history and gave that lengthy lesson about the demon’s genetics and how they inherit the characteristics of whatever they eat and evolve accordingly. 

- With Emma’s wish about saving everyone and lively happily still on his mind, he thought of a safe and certain method in order to create such a future for all the children raised as food.. which ends up being complete extermination of all the demons caused by a civil war. His plan also includes ending the Ratri clan as well. How cheerful.

- Are you surprised to learn that Norman getting tackled by the younger kids is my favorite panel of him?

- You weak, little bean, I’m sorry I enjoy making fun of you so much.

- Successfully forms an alliance with Lord Geelan and his clan by offering revenge on the royal family, the five regent houses, as well as the Ratri clan, thus putting Geelan in full control. In return, it would grant Norman the full release of farm children, permission to self-govern and some much needed power in terms of demon strength.

- He knows full well that the entire alliance is a lie and both parties are only using each other, though in works in his favor, as it will send the demons to destroy each other without the lose of any human lives.

- This absolute powerful panel that the anime decided “nah, we’re gonna change this too” because they’re cowards.

- Narrowed down possible locations on where to find Sonju and Mujika. Sure it was with the intention of killing our demon friends but his map was accurate.

- Survived who knows long with his seizures at level 4, and because of his severe condition, he’s completely set on following through his plan and succeeding before his time runs out.

- Seems to enjoy blowing stuff up, such as the imperial city’s bridges to send the place into a panic and trap all the citizens.

- Advised the Lambda crew on how to effectively fight against the queen by attacking relentlessly.

- Let loose a poison that causes not only normal demons to degenerate, but the royal family as well, such as the five regent heads and the queen who’s name is too long and complicated for me to ever remember, who all have the cursed blood. (at least that’s how effective it was in manga, in anime it did absolutely nothing to vylk)

- He somehow managed to learn, speak and understand the demon language, which, according to Shirai (vol16 author notes), is actually an uncommon language nowadays. (and we’ll unfortunately never know how this language actually sounds, thank anime..)

- Do I even praise him for killing a demon and well.. all this? Sure in the anime he tried killing Vylk, but old demon was fair more innocent compared to the royal family, so I have no idea.

- I will give season 2 some credit and say I prefer their take on the “right now you look like a small child, shaking with fear” panel.

- But not too much credit, as they didn’t give us the full trio hug as the manga did!

- Then again the anime did have him about to apologize to Vylk and Demon Emma for his actions, which is something, I suppose? since in ch154 he says he didn’t regret killing the queen and royals, which I guess is justified because they were the bigger problem, but oh well.

- Might have apologized to Ayshe for killing her father? Can’t be sure but that’s the unanimous consensus in the fandom right?

- Instantly comes up with counter moves and directions for the entire group upon hearing the enemies locations from Vincent during the GF raid.

- I honestly can’t look at this panel anymore and not laugh about it.. because reasons.

- He just keeps on winning. (also he looks real good here, i’ll give him that.)

- He and everyone else are skeptical about there being no “reward,” and for rightfully so.

- Upon learning that Emma is missing after everyone crossed over to the human world, they all adopt her optimistic attitude and swear to find her no matter where she might be.

- After a stressful two year search, the kids finally find Emma and Norman is so overcome with emotion that he busts out into tears of joy, despite finding out that she lost her memories due to the reward. All that matters to him is that Emma was safe and happy and he accepts her just the way she is.

And I guess.. that’s it. I’m sorry again, I know this is truly the weakest post out of the trio and I have no doubt I glanced over a whole bunch of great moments but it still had to be done! Making fun of him probably wasn’t the best thing to do on his special day either, but I assure you this child is very powerful. Who else do you know that is capable of sending an entire fandom into a panic and rage furiously by just simply showing up?

Ah ha okay, now I’m done. In all seriousness though, this lad is great and through everything he has endured, he definitely deserves to be celebrated today, so happy birthday to our boy Norman!

[thewritingstar]

Beautiful Revelations

Pairing: Gruvia (I know its been a hot ass min)

Fandom: Fairy Tail 

tags: @shellielyzabeth @be-dazzled @nostalgicxslumber @unvalley @tigerfire54

Note: It has happened. I have written 200 fanfics and idk if I should be proud or slightly scared. (feel free to skip this omg why is it so long) 

I want to say thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged or interacted with me in any way. I have always had a feeling that no matter what I write, I wouldn’t matter. But every comment and sweet note left made me realize that even if its just a smile or enough to make someone hit the like button, I made a small difference or added something to the fandom. Most of my fics are quick drabbles full of spelling mistakes, random thoughts and love for the characters. I know I don’t write very long stories or finish my wips (why are we surprised) but even though Im not someone people look to as a big author, each of you have made me feel special. There have been many times, this year especially that I had decided to give up writing. “Im not good enough and no one will even notice” Thats what I told myself if I decided to just back away. But every so often I would look and see that someone new or old had read my work. Every time someone reads something I wrote, I go back and read it too. I look at all the tags and see every comment and I stop and smile and remember how much joy it brought me when I first posted. 

When I first started writing, I thought that I wouldn’t have a place. Yet in a very short span of time, I was welcomed with open arms and people started to tune in regularly for my fics. I had been given many nicknames such as Gruvia goddess, angst queen, satan (yes I know the fic0 and well even Star. 

During my darkest moments, my mind lingered to my writing and to my internet friends. without hesitation I could message someone and feel better and be given the reassure I need. I can't even begin to say how much it means to me that people actually enjoy my writing and even me as a person. 

I thank each of you for giving me a joy that was considered a luxury at one point and allowing me to write whatever I wanted and you took it with love and made me happier than I have been in years. To all the people who made art or wrote me something, it means so much to me. 

Im not saying that this fic is my greatest but I think it has a special place because It shows the growth over time. 200 fics is a lot and whether or not they were all good, it doesn't matter because I did that and I can say that im proud. Im sorry for all that sappy shit but I wouldn't be where I am without you all. 

-Star <3 

ps: im not dying or stop writing fics im just happy lol 

---

  “There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a               heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”

― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

---

It was the nights like these that she hated most. The cold would creep through the blankets and make her shiver as her eyelids hung heavy. She could be ready to rest, let the sweet dreams guide her but instead those dark intrusive thoughts toyed with her like a fly on a freshly woven web. They would sprout out of nowhere, tangled with thorns and hold her mind hostage as it injected its sickly venomized thoughts for the night.

She always wondered how she got this far. She was one of the highest members of Phantom Lord, her abilities had rarely been matched. If she desperately craved, she could walk down the hallways and strike fear into the other members, no one could touch her. Hierarchies became a custom here. Once you made it to the top after clawing your way with blood, sweat and probably more blood, you were a god. Yet she walked in and in the next few minutes she was at the table with the master, already receiving a promise that she was special, a delicate and useful ally for the guild.

Special. What a swollen lie that turned out to be.

Maybe that's why she never bothered to search for a light, something to cure the rain. For every life she had bruised or ended, she wanted to feel the pain that followed. She needed to know the consequence of her actions, to be held accountable for ruining another family or taking something from the innocent. Instead she was celebrated.

The days turned to months and she found herself years later not knowing what anything meant anymore. Life used to be black and white. She would walk the side of the kind and good and now she was treading through a swarm of a morally gray compound.

These restless nights, she loathed them but then again, suffering was something that came naturally to her. The only person to ever knock her down was herself.

She climbed out of bed, fuzzy slippers over her feet as she walked to the bathroom. Her headache had worsened and she stared into the mirror. She had looked at herself a thousand times but… have her eyes always been that blue? No, she was tired and her vision was fuzzy, she was fine. Cold water came to her hands as she turned on the facet and splashed her face. Everything was the same as it always was. Expect for today.

Her order was simple. Defeat whoever stood in her way and make sure the Phantom Lord got Lucy Heratfilia. Why did they want some mage? She didn’t know but she was never one to second guess her orders. To go against what she was told was a waste of time, she would have been dead by the end of the day if she did. She had once believed that they accepted her with open arms, that Phantom Lord truly cared about her well being. It was a lie. A bitter sweet lie she allowed to remain in her head.

Hundreds of opponents had come before her. She was accustomed to the way of a battle and had harnessed her skill at a young age. The pure power of the rain pushed her further. She had an unlimited amount of power around her, unlike others, they would run out of fuel. She began to crave that god-like power. Allow the storm to rage on, all she had was herself and the droplets that followed. She understood she was an outcast. Love was never an option, not for someone who brought gloom everywhere.

But this afternoon, fate was a funny thing. She walked onto that rooftop, winning was the only thing on her mind, but he was there. A man who didn’t back down, a man who saw her as an equal.

Her heart began to race. It was forgien and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. She had felt attraction before but this, this was different. Something as small as a single glance had already spun her mind into a muddled mess. It would have been better if she turned around, if he didn’t engage in the fight. Then maybe she wouldn’t be thinking of him like this.

Love at first sight. That wasn’t real. No one could possibly have that happen. What could drive someone's emotion so wild that they become attached to a person in such a short time? And yet it happened. He stood there waiting for the next move and she could only gaze at him with rose colored glasses.

An enemy. A traitor. That's what she would be if she dared to let him escape. She couldn’t hestatite, she never did and now she was frozen in her spot as ice magic danced around her. Peoples magic and abilities never intrigued her, but this, this was beyond anything she had seen.

The light reflecting off of the ice as her droplets froze before her eyes was breathtaking and she hardly noticed that she was losing the battle. She never thought rain could look, dare she say, beautiful? But in this state of its frozen glory, it was all she could think about. She envied those who never had to stay in the rain, a jealousy she didn’t want to admit had festered over the years and she gave up trying to despise the element. But before her was something much more than the state she was accustomed to. Ice. The solid purity of her own and she had wondered what it would be like to hold it in her hands.

She had water locked him, pulled out all of the stops and even with that, he stood again and again. He had screamed that the water was boiling, burning his skin but never before had the water gone above warm. It was usually ice cold on the tipping point of freezing but she could feel the warmth surrounding her.

It shocked her just the same. She had heard people talk about feeling the sun kiss their skin, the warmth spreading as they walked, this was the closest she had felt to that. This warm rush of water was beyond what she had known and yet even as it tinged her hands it felt good, it felt freeing, it felt right.

It burned in a way she had craved for so long. Something other than the fridgeness she had grown used too.

She stared at her reflection in her mirror, tears brimming her eyes. How could one person she just met bring her something she had never felt before? She shut the light out in the bathroom and walked back to her bed, passing her window, she stopped and turned.

Above in the sky was the moon. A soft white glow surrounded the orb that she had never seen before. It was breathtaking. A cosmic power the normal people of the world didn’t dare to worship now became a luxury. The sky was clear and she could see the stars, she could sense them all. How could she have lived her entire life never once seeing the moon and the sun? She had been cursed to live in the rain forever.

But he-he made it stop.

When he grabbed her arm, it was like time had stopped. As if everything she had ever known was washed away and all she could see was a bright light encasing him. She was content knowing her death was coming, there was hardly a reason for her to live. Perhaps she wasn't even living, just surviving day after gloomy day.

He pulled her to safety, her back against the roof as she panted heavily. Those clouds above her moved like a curtain for a show, parting just so that she could see the enchanting mystery she had always craved.  

She had never known a blue sky till then. The brightness was almost unbearable as she stared into a sky she had never known. So many emotions flooded her head but it was clear as those ice crystals that her heart was beating for him. She was his enemy, they made that clear from the start but he hadn’t hesitated to save her. He showed a mercy she had never come across.

Another tear fell as she sat on her bed.

“He saved Juvia.” She whispered to herself. A horrific thought came to her. Would she have saved him? She didn’t want to know the outcome because deep down she believed she was good. Beneath the surface of unremosle power, there was that scared little girl who never had anyone to care for her.

The amount of days she sat in that orphanage alone sewing her dolls and praying that the rain stopped one way or another, it was as if she couldn’t remember it. He had done the impossible. He showed her the sky she hadn’t seen. He had shown her kindness.

A thought came to mind as she stood and packed her things. No more would she be known as “the rain woman”. No more would gloom be her only trait. She was determined to find something much more appealing than those bowing by fear. She wanted love. She wanted that warmth of the water constantly and the feeling of the sun on her skin. She understood it now. There was a power strong than her, stronger than any wizard that surrounded the other guild.

She had vowed to be done with love. Promised herself that no man could hurt her again. She was trembling at the thought of being vulnerable once more. The only time she felt warmth was the scorching burn of a fiery rejection and words that burned like lava. It was too much for someone to handle. So she pushed it down, locked the key and threw it as far as she could. The temptation though. The idea of letting her guard down for someone, someone she barely knew? How she fantasized of that moment. She had once believed that someone of her past had done that, but they were all the same. Ashamed of the rain, the rain she caused, the pain she brought.

And after their fight when she collected herself and tried to run back towards her guild, he stopped her.

“For what it's worth I think you’re an incredible wizard. You may not want to believe that your guild is dark and bad but, Fairy Tail is always open.” He had said it with such sincerity that she wasn’t sure if it were true.

“Juvia thinks your magic is just as powerful.” She had said before he gave her a smile and turned away to go back to his other guild mates.

And here she stood, a suitcases packed in the night and a note left on the desk. This guild didn’t deserve any words. Not when they feasted on her ability. Harvested those negative emotions and almost made her fall into the deep end.

She knew what they would say. They would call her a coward. A traitor and a worthless wizard, at first it was enough to stop her. Make her stay and perhaps bring back the clouds. However what he said stuck in her mind.

“I would rather die fighting than let your guild have Lucy! She is one of us and we don’t leave anyone behind.”

Without hesitation he made it clear that every member of the guild was valued no matter how long they had been there, they were a family. If something like that would have happened, if she were threatened, her guild would let her die without a second thought.

Never again would she allow someone to have a hold over her. She spent too many years sheltered by pain and deviation to go on like that.

She grabbed her bag and closed her door.

--

Juvia stood in front of the door. The morning would be better to do this but it was beyond dark outside and she didn’t want her intrusive thoughts pulling her back to her old guild. Softly she knocked, maybe hoping that he wouldn’t hear it and force her back to the isolation of fear.

The open clicked open and her eyes widened slightly as a sleepy Gray leaned against the door frame, shirtless and rubbing his eyes.

“Juvia?” He blinked and watched as her cheek puffed out in red. He looked down to see that he was only in his underwear and let out a yelp as he grabbed a blanket off the chair. “What are you doing here?”

“Um Juvia thought.” She paused and looked towards the ground. “Actually Juvia apologies for disturbing you.” Her back was to him and she began to walk away.

“Wait!” His hand caught hers and he pulled slightly. A jolt of warmth spread through her, burning her like a thousand suns as well as the chill of ice from his own temperature. She looked back at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “Juvia, please just tell me.”

“Such kindness.” She whispered to herself. Her heart rate sped up just like it did earlier and she swallowed a breath. “Juvia was wondering…why did you save her?”

His hand dropped her as if he were shocked that she would dare question his action.

“I wasn’t going to let you die. Enemies or not, I don’t think you deserved that fate. I don’t believe that you are this evil person your guild made you out to be. To be honest when you fell, you look like you didn’t care what happened and I guess I saw myself in you.”

“You saved Juvia because you know what it's like?”

“To feel lost and hopeless I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Sometimes it's hard thinking you deserve to live, that it would be better to harbor all the pain of your past. I don’t know everything about you but that look in your eyes. I couldn’t let you go knowing that there was a brighter future ahead.”

A tear dripped from her eye. Her smile was soft as hugged her arms to her body. “You knew Juvia would join the guild.”

“Well I wouldn’t say I knew, but I was hoping that you would. If you still want to, that is.”

“Juvia would be honored.” She bowed respectfully towards him.

Gray smiled and bowed back. His eyes faced the sky looking towards the moon. “Have you ever seen it?”

“Tonight would be the first. Juvia thinks the stars are remarkable.”

“Lucy knows alot about them, I think you two would be good friends.”

Juvia shook her head as regret twisted in her stomach. “Juvia accepts your kindness and compassion but she doesn’t know if the rest will. Juvia was her rival, she understands if everyone doesn’t see her as a friend.” She frowned slightly.

A laugh came from the ice mage's mouth. “That's the thing about Fairy Tail, no matter where you come from or what your past may have held, there's always going to be a friend waiting.”

Juvia nodded. “Thank you Gray. Juvia will talk to your guild master tomorrow.”

“Like I said before. You’re an incredible wizard, you’ll be just fine.” He winked.

“Have a nice night.”

“You too.”

She watched as he entered his house before turning around and walking towards her hotel. Her shoulders felt lighter and she held her head high for the first time. This was her step in the right direction, this was where her new life began.

Time had slowed and allowed her to pause. A beautiful revelation she never knew could exist came to mind as she just realized that she was in love.

---

She looked down at her leg in the mirror. The voices behind her had faded to the background as she became entranced with the mark of Fairy Tail.

“The blue suits you.” She turned to see Gray standing there with a smile as he was focused on her guild mark.

To say that she was grateful was an understatement. Her mask she wore like a crown had shattered. It unravels in his hands as the months went on and all that was left was the person she wanted to be. She could finally let go of her ghosts, her darkness and begin to forgive herself.  

---

“What do you think?” He asked her as the white sky fell with snow.

Gray had told her of a special spot he used to go to when the first snow came. Past the forest was a clearing of grassy hills that would soon become a winter wonderland. Laid out on one of the hills was a blanket and a few lanterns.

She held her hand out and felt the tiny snowflakes collect on her hand. He sat behind her, one arm snaked around her waist while the other hand rose above hers and created a small flurry of snowflakes.

“Breathtaking.” She gushed. This was the first time she had seen snow fall. Her eyes followed the ice magic as it formed a heart and blew into the sky joining the other flurries. She turned so she could meet his eyes and his normal content face was replaced with a smile.

He leaned forward until their noses touched briefly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He said and she only had a moment to process his words as his lips landed on hers and her eyes fluttered close.

Her hand went to his cheek as she leaned towards him, her energy matching his and all she could hear was the thumping of her heart. She would be embarrassed to say that she might have dreamt of this moment a little too much but it didn’t matter now. All she knew was that her beloved felt the same.

---

For once she was happy to hear a cry. That little whimper bubbling from the baby's mouth, her baby, she was in disbelief. Perfection was a rarity. No one was perfect, but the being with a tuft of dark blue hair and grey eyes would beg to differ. A child was never in her future. The thought came up randomly but the idea of raising a family wasn’t even a question.

During her missions in her old guild, she would walk past a family. She would see happy faces on everyone and would only be filled with envy and hatred. Disgusting was what it was. How could you love someone else when there was no love for you?

But times change. She would see others holding their child's hand and feel a warmth in her heart at how the children beamed up at their parents. She could sense the love all around them and would smile herself, hoping that it might become a reality for herself.

She would wake in the middle of the night, not from her demons but for her new reason to live. He would babble and tug at the locks of her hair and giggle when water magic danced before his young eyes.

---

It was nights like these that loved the most. The soft rays of moonlight casting shadows through her window as silk sheets wrapped around her bare form. She used to spend nights alone, only her pillow to catch her tears and now delicate fingers trail her backside as she listens to the thumping of his heart. His chest rises and falls as her own follows the rhythm. Her eyes flutter close as her tiredness grows untils it's interrupted by a cool press of lips under her ear.

A peaceful sigh leaves her lips as she tilts her head up to meet dark eyes gazing at her. Flushed cheeks was something she wore often and she lifted off of him to move further up and meet his lips with hers. He pulls her back to him, hating the emptiness between them and adores the way she shivers when his thumb traces her guild mark.

Their love was honest and raw. She had learned that nights like those in the past would haunt him as well. They would keep him up and plague his thoughts with images of death and destruction. But now, they lingered in the shadows, always there but something brighter and beautiful guarded them to peace and she focused on the way he breathed her name then the tears that dropped.

There was an overwhelming amount of happiness that she had gathered after all the years she spent in Fairy Tail. She found friendship and family bonds. Love in all forms that she cherished deeply. Her powers were seen as a gift to help others and lend a hand, not twisted into medled lies that she had spent so long untangling.

Her lips pulled from his slowly and their breaths settled between them. When she looked at Gray she found something more. She had freedom and rebirth. Forgiveness and lust wrapped into something more than love. Their bond was stronger than she could have ever dreamed and when he left kisses over her skin she wanted nothing more in life than to stay frozen in this moment.

He did the impossible. He opened a door, shined a light through her darkness and allowed her to accept the fact that she did deserve to live. She could cherish moments and keep them as her own without the threat of corruption. Her life was now her own to command and she did it with such grace and beauty that Gray couldn’t imagine her being any different. 

“I love you.” He promised and there was no doubt in her mind that he meant it.

“I love you too.” She responded.

The beautiful truth was that she was finally at peace and loved herself. 

---

I hope that you all enjoyed and thank you for being so lovely <3

[440mxs-wife]

Cookies and Milk

Pairing: Sam x Reader. Other characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills

Word Count: 5060+

Warnings: None really, except here there be fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were on a supply run in town to restock the bunker's refrigerator and pantry, one of your jobs while the boys were on a hunt. The list for this run wasn't as long as usual, but you still had quite a bit to buy. On your list were the items to make meatloaf, spaghetti, beef stew, chili, and your famous lasagna.

As you were nearing the frozen food section and the end of your list, your phone buzzed in your pocket with a text message from Dean. They were on their way home, and had stopped at a gas station for fuel and snacks. He wanted to let you know about when to expect him and Sam home.

DW: Hey, sweetheart. We stopped for gas and stuff, but we're still about five hours from home. Wanted to let you know.

You: I'm in town now, on a supply run. How did it go?

DW: I'll tell you more when we get back.

You: Okay, Dean. Drive careful, see you guys when you get home. Over and out.

Dean's last text message had you a little concerned, but there was no sense in worrying about it now. The best you could do was be there for the boys to support them, whatever they might need. Something you'd been doing for quite some time now, it seemed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You've been bunking with the Winchesters for the past six years now, but you've known them much longer than that. Ever since Bobby sent them to help you on that wendigo hunt, you've been the best of friends.

Over the years, you had drifted in and out of each others' lives, meeting up on a hunt or taking a break at Bobby's house. It wasn't until Bobby passed away that you moved into your own room in the bunker and semi-retired from hunting. You knew hunting was important work, it was just that you felt you could be more useful in a support capacity.

The bunker's gym helped you keep in shape and maintain your fighting skills. For the most part, though, you were in charge of the bunker. Your duties mostly included supply runs, chief cook and bottle washer, research and medical service. You also fielded calls for information from other hunters, given the expansive Men of Letters' library.

You and Dean shared a love of classic rock music, action movies and baked goods. Whenever Dean needed a bit of cheering up, you knew just how to do it. Usually, a freshly-baked pie was all it took to put him on the road to recovery. Didn't matter what flavor, though you knew apple, cherry and pecan were among his favorites.

Sam was different. To you, he was the "quieter Winchester". With his warm hazel eyes, thick chestnut hair and long arms perfect for providing comfort when you needed it. The two of you bonded over books, whether for research or for fun. You didn't always see eye-to-eye on music, but he didn't mind watching a chick-flick with you every now and then.

He was particularly sensitive to other peoples' emotions, quick to offer comfort at the first sign of distress.  On the other hand, accepting comfort from those closest to him wasn't always easy for Sam. He had a tendency to want to process things on his own, away from prying eyes and concerned hearts.

With Sam, if you needed to talk, you could count on him to listen and not dismiss your feelings. You could be yourself with him, even let your inner "nerd self" shine through. As time passed, your feelings had developed to where you saw Sam as more than your best friend. You knew you had to keep those thoughts about him to yourself, though. The last thing you ever wanted was to risk a longtime friendship over what you were sure was one-sided affection.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While you were putting away the groceries at home, your thoughts drifted back to your feelings about Sam. You wished there was some way to show him how much you cared, how you were there for him if he needed someone.

You remembered that one way you showed Dean that you cared was with a homemade pie. You wondered if something like that would work in the same way for Sam. So instead of pie, you decided to make Sam a batch of cookies. It would be your way of telling him that someone was thinking about him, like the pie did for Dean.

With a plan of action and a renewed sense of purpose, you rummaged through the cupboards and found that you had everything you needed for some oatmeal chocolate and peanut butter chip cookies. You hurried to put away the rest of the groceries so you could get started on the baking.

You got right to work mixing the butter, sugar, eggs and the other ingredients. You also made sure to sample a few of the chocolate and peanut butter chips. Got to check the quality level, you thought with a smile.

After you finished cleaning up from your baking endeavors, you still had a couple of hours before Dean said they would be home. You reached for your book that was left on the coffee table and you picked up reading where you left off. Next thing you knew, a hand was caressing your cheek, so you opened your eyes to see Dean smiling down at you.

"We're home, sweetheart," he said softly.

You yawned and stretched in your chair. "Welcome home, Winchesters," you replied sleepily. You pulled yourself into an upright position and looked around the room. "Where's Sam?" you asked.

Dean dropped his gaze. "He headed off to go take a shower," Dean answered. "This was a rough one, honey. I'm just glad it's over, though. It's so good to be home," he explained.

"I'm glad you're home too, Dean. Wanna tell me what happened?" you asked gently.

He took a seat on the couch next to your chair. "It was a lot of little things that added up to one giant mess. Nothing went according to plan, even more 'off book' than usual," Dean explained. "We both almost got clawed, but we managed to fight them off. Now they can't hurt anyone else," he remarked.

You stood up from your chair and held out your hand. "Walk with me, Dean, I have a surprise for you in the kitchen. I may or may not have made you an apple pie yesterday. You know, unless you're not interested...." you teased, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Dean jumped up from the couch as if sitting on a spring, taking your hand as he reached his feet. "Really?" he asked excitedly. You nodded, and he gave you a peck on the cheek. "Bestest best friend ever," he grinned and rushed off in the direction of the kitchen.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that night after a dinner of pizza and Dean having a third slice of pie, you went to your room to read to help you fall asleep. Dean's exhaustion started to take its toll on him, so he showered and after wishing you goodnight, he went to bed. Sam hadn't come out for dinner, but there was enough leftover pizza that you weren't worried about him going hungry.

As the night wore on, you started to hear talking from the direction of Sam's room. You put your book down, put on your slippers and carefully opened your door. You roamed the hallways, trying to find the source of the noise. It was at its loudest when you were standing in front of Sam's door.

You peeked into his room to see him in the middle of a nightmare, tossing and turning. A sheen of perspiration had formed on his brow. Your heart broke for him a little to see him in such turmoil when he should be at rest.

After getting a cool, wet washcloth for him, you carefully sat on the edge of his bed. You gently placed the washcloth on his forehead and reached to take his hand in both of yours. He jumped at the unexpected contact and his eyes flew open. His head swiveled frantically from side to side, taking in his surroundings and trying to figure out what was going on.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Sam. I'm here, you're safe now. It was just a nightmare, it wasn't real," you soothed. His breathing slowly returned to normal and he started to come back around.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry if I did," Sam rasped.

"No, I was awake, reading when I heard you in here, having your nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?" you asked gently.

"Not right now," he answered with a shiver.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and was surprised to discover that it was so wet. His clothes were soaked in sweat, as were his sheets. "Hey, let's get you into some dry clothes, you'll catch cold if you don't," you remarked. "I'll take the sheets off and put them in the laundry room to be washed tomorrow. While I'm doing that, you change," you ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After he had changed into some dry clothes, Sam wandered into the kitchen for a late snack, since he hadn't come out for dinner. He knew you and Dean had pizza for dinner, so he headed for the fridge to get some of the leftovers.

He stopped when he saw the note on the table with his name on it, next to a plate of cookies and an empty glass. Sam didn't remember you making any cookies before they left for the hunt. He loved it when you made cookies. If he had seen them, he definitely would've taken some with him.

Sam looked around to see if you were near the kitchen and were going to join him, but didn't see you anywhere. He chuckled at your instructions that he was to eat all of the cookies by dunking them in the tall glass of milk. Then he was supposed to drink all of the milk, even though it would have cookie crumbs in it. Well, if she insists, he thought with a grin. Sam poured himself a glass of milk, then sat down to attack the plate of cookies.

Per your instructions, he dunked the first cookie, letting it soak up some of the milk like a sponge. The first bite was heavenly, as it seemed to melt in his mouth. A groan of appreciation escaped his lips, not only for the taste, but for your efforts in making the cookies in the first place.

As the cookies disappeared one by one, Sam thought about how you helped him out of his nightmare tonight. You woke him up out of it, and took care of him by making sure he changed into some dry clothes. You also set up his sheets to be washed in the morning. That last hunt really took it out of him, with so much not going according to plan.

Sam welcomed any opportunity he could to confide in you about how he was feeling or just to feel your arms around him. He longed to hear your kind words and let them wash over him in your soft, soothing voice as it fell from those pouty, kissable lips. And your eyes always held such understanding. No matter what secrets he shared with you, he never saw any judgment in their depths.

Before Sam knew it he was out of cookies, so he followed your last instruction and drank all the milk. He smiled to himself because he had to admit that he felt a bit better than when he first walked into the kitchen. He took his dirty dishes to the sink, rinsed out the glass, then he headed back to his room to sleep. The only part that would've made it better is for you to have also been in the kitchen, spending time with him and talking.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you wandered into the kitchen to start making breakfast, still wearing your pajamas. Coffee was the first order of business, because Dean was very grumpy without it. You went to the sink to fill the pot with water for making coffee. You noticed that the plate and glass you left out for Sam had been rinsed and were waiting to be washed. A small smile crept across your face, knowing that your mission had been accomplished.

Dean stumbled into the kitchen shortly after you pressed the 'start' button on the coffee pot. He took a seat at the table and grumbled as he rested his head on top of the table. "Good morning, Dean," you giggled.

He lifted his head and stared at you through half-lidded eyes. "Is coffee ready yet?" he rasped.

"Not yet, but I'll make sure you get some as soon as it is," you chuckled. You squeezed Dean's shoulder as you walked by him on your way back to the stove.

You heard someone clearing his throat and looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway. "Good morning, Sam," you said with a smile. "I hope it didn't take you too long to get back to sleep last night," you remarked.

"Good morning to you. No, I came in here after I changed clothes and had some cookies and milk that a certain someone left for me," Sam replied as he returned your smile.

You couldn't help but grin as you kept your head down and continued to prepare breakfast. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Sam," you said.

"Uh huh, yeah right," he smirked. "I thought for sure you were going to come in here to join me, but you didn't," Sam pouted.

"Oh. I thought you might want that time to yourself, so I went back to my room. Sorry," you replied.

He stepped behind you to grab three coffee cups from the cabinet, then turned to glance over your shoulder. Sam was so close that you swore you could feel his breath on your neck as you flipped the pancakes.

"Something I can help you with, Sam?" you asked. As you turned to make eye contact with the man behind you, he was so close that your lips meshed against his ever so gently. Your cheeks immediately felt blazing hot and you closed your eyes tightly to regain your composure.

Sam jumped back in surprise, then touched his lips where yours had most recently been. He took a hesitant step towards you as you flipped the last of the pancakes. You put them on the platter and turned off the griddle. You brought the steaming stack of flapjacks over to the table, then awkwardly excused yourself from the room.

Dean stared after you as you bolted from the kitchen. "What's wrong with her?" he asked.

A grin slowly spread across Sam's face as it dawned on him what had just occurred. He realized how perfect it felt to have your lips pressed against his, even if only for the briefest of moments. Sam also became aware of how much he wanted to do that again, but for longer and with even more contact. "I don't know, Dean," he said slowly.

"Dude, you okay?" Dean asked, cutting into Sam's daydream.

"Perfect, Dean. Just perfect. Can you please pass the bacon?" Sam answered.

"You know this is real bacon, right?" Dean said as he eyed his brother.

"Yeah, I know. It's okay, I'll burn the calories off tomorrow on my run," he assured Dean.

"Getting weird around here," Dean muttered.

Back in your room, you sat on the edge, head in your hands. What the hell was I thinking, kissing Sam? you asked yourself. Not like you hadn't thought or dreamed about it a thousand or more times. But with how he jumped back like he was burned, that was indication enough that he considered it a mistake.

Now it's going to get weird around here and that's my fault, you thought bitterly. You had to admit to yourself that his lips felt nice, and that you would like to do it for real and often. However, you decided your best course of action for at least today was to hole up in your room for a date with Netflix.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple of days after the "Kitchen Incident", as you thought of it, you decided to quit hiding out in your room. Whatever fallout was going to happen, you wanted to meet it head-on, then move forward, whatever that looked like.

Sam and Dean still went on cases, some that lasted a few days or even a week, while you stayed behind to run research. Life had seemingly returned to somewhat normal, or as normal as the hunting life gets.

Every once in a while, a plate of cookies and an empty glass for milk appeared on the kitchen table. Next to the glass would be a tented piece of paper marked, "For Sam". The usual instructions were written on the inside. He had to eat all of the cookies by dunking them in the milk, then drink all of the milk. Sometimes there would be a quote from a movie that you had watched together, or some silly knock-knock joke.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About a month had passed and Sam and Dean were on their way home from a demon hunt in Montana. They had stopped in Sioux Falls to rest up at Jody's house and hang out with her and the girls before heading home. You asked Sam and Dean to say hi to everyone for you, and that you wished you were there.

Dean asked if you were going to do any baking, to which you laughed and asked him what kind of pie he wanted you to make. "Well, sweetheart, as long as you're offering, would you make a pecan pie for me?" he asked.

"I can do that. Um....how was the hunt?" you wondered.

Dean knew what you were really asking, but played along anyway. "It was fine, just demons being demons, causing their usual trouble. Sammy got knocked around a little though," Dean answered. "For the most part, he's okay. Sprained his wrist and has a bump on his head," he explained.

"What?!? Is he okay? Does he have a concussion, are you sure his wrist is only sprained?" you rambled.

"Shh, shh, relax. He's going to be fine. Here, talk to him," Dean said as he threw his phone to his brother, who threw him an epic bitch face in return.

"Hello? Sam, are you there?" you inquired nervously.

"I'm here. Don't listen to anything Dean says, I'm fine. How're you doin'?" Sam asked.

"Just trying to keep busy while I wait for you guys to come home. I must have done around seven loads of laundry in the last couple of days, though," you giggled. "You and Dean had at least three loads apiece!" you teased.

Sam smiled and chuckled in return. "I'm sure sorry about that, honey. I'll try not to let the clothes pile up so much next time," he promised.

Jody looked at Dean, with her mouthing the word, "Honey?" Dean just shrugged.

"Oh, it's all right, Sam. I was only kidding. I've got plenty around here to keep me busy and out of trouble," you remarked. "I miss you guys, but I know you don't get much chance to visit with Jody and her girls. So, don't be in a hurry to get home, and I'll see you when you get back," you replied softly.

"It's all up to Dean when he wants to leave, but I'll tell him you said that," Sam said. "Until then, take care of yourself and don't work too hard, okay?" he asked.

"I won't. Bye, Sam," you answered shyly. You heard a click and the call was disconnected.

Sam threw the phone back to his brother, a smile on his face. He got up from the couch and went into the kitchen for a bottle of water. Jody's and Dean's eyes followed Sam as he left the room. Once he was out of earshot, Jody and Dean were sharing their thoughts about Sam's phone conversation with you.

"Is there something going on between those two?" Jody asked. "Because it sure seems that way to me," she finished.

"Yeah, you should see them at home. They'll be sitting at the table researching or doing something on their laptops. I'll look up and see one of them staring at the other, then looking away. It's kind of cute, though," Dean replied.

"I can imagine. So, you'll have a pecan pie waiting for you when you get home, that'll be nice," Jody remarked.

"Yeah, and Sammy will probably have a plate of cookies waiting for him on the table," Dean answered.

"Wait. Mr. Eat-A-Salad-With-Every-Meal eats cookies?!?" Jody exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah, but only the ones she makes for him. It started after we got back from that werewolf hunt that went so bad," Dean explained with a grin. "At first, it was how she let Sammy know that he could talk to her about it or anything else if he wanted to. However, I think it's evolved into something more than that at this point," Dean said.

"Hmm. Maybe now it's her way of showing Sam how she feels. She might be too afraid to say it out loud," Jody suggested.

Neither Dean nor Jody had heard Sam come in from the kitchen. He heard the tail end of their conversation, the part about the reason you'd been leaving a plate of cookies out for him. "Hold on a minute. That's why she's been making me cookies?" Sam asked, taking a seat on the couch.

Jody and Dean looked at each other, debating on what to say next. Dean finally rolled his eyes and spoke first. "Come on, Sam, add it up," he started. "I've seen the two of you making goo-goo heart eyes at each other when you think the other's not looking. Then there's that phone conversation between you today," Dean smirked.

"What about our phone conversation?" Sam demanded.

"Nothing, just that if you smiled any wider while you were talking to her, your face would've split in half. And somehow, I don't think this is a recent thing for her," Jody chimed in.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Sam wondered.

"Well, remember the last time we all got together with Donna and Doug, about six months ago?" Jody asked and Sam nodded. "I noticed how her eyes seemed to follow you as soon as you entered the room. Then she looked away when you smiled at her and had caught her staring. How her face fell when you started talking and laughing with another woman," Jody finished quietly.

"H-how was she looking at me, Jody?" Sam asked, even though he pretty much knew the answer.

"Like a woman in love," she replied gently.

Sam turned to look at his brother. "Really?" he asked, his voice higher than usual.

Dean nodded. "So, the question really becomes, how do you feel about her, Sam?"

"I think I need some air," Sam said as he got up and walked out to Jody's back deck.

Once outside, he tilted his head up to see the endless array of stars shining in the night sky. Get it together, man, he told himself. This is your best friend you're talking about. You've known her for years. Do you really want to lose that if she doesn't feel the same? he silently asked.

Looking at the other side of the argument, Sam asked himself what would happen if you did feel the same, and how he would know. He loved the late-night conversations you had when neither of you could sleep. The warm towel you placed outside the shower for him after a cold morning run. Your laughter at his usually lame-ass jokes. Even that heartbroken look on your face as he flirted with another woman at the bar was enough to indicate how you felt.

The more Sam thought about it, the more he marveled at how he didn't see it sooner. It was all in front of him this whole time, the little things you do to show you care. Comforting him after he'd had a nightmare, buying his favorite veggies for snacks.....making cookies. You were in love with him.

Sam was suddenly desperate to have you in his arms at this very moment. As the two of you gazed at the stars, he knew your eyes would sparkle with amazement. Then you'd turn your focus on him and give him one of your heart-stopping smiles.

At that point, Sam knew he'd be a goner. He wouldn't be able to resist capturing your lips in a searing kiss, if your mouth moved even a fraction of an inch in his direction. That last thought was what sealed it in his mind. He was in love with you. If even half of what Jody and Dean said was true, then he didn't want to waste any more time before telling you how he felt.

He walked back through the house and into the living room, where he'd left Jody and Dean. When Sam entered the room, they stopped their conversation, because to them, it looked like he had something to say. "Hey Dean? Um....Could we...." he fumbled.

"Yeah, we can leave for home in the morning, Sam," Dean replied with an understanding smile.

"Thanks," Sam sighed with relief.

"Go get 'er, Sam," Jody remarked in support, bringing a smile to Sam's face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had just pulled Dean's pecan pie from the oven and set it on the counter to cool. With any luck, it would be cooled off enough and ready to eat when he got home. There were also a few dozen snickerdoodle cookies you had made for Sam, resting on the wire cooling racks. You took out a plate from the cupboard and a tall glass. You placed about six cookies on the plate and set the glass next to the plate.

Taking out a blank sheet of paper, you folded it and tore it in half. On one half, you folded it into a tent and wrote "For Dean", then placed it next to the pecan pie. For the other half, you folded it the same, and wrote "For Sam" on the outside, then turned to write something on the inside.

Several minutes ticked by and you hadn't written anything. You couldn't think of a movie quote or line from Shakespeare to adequately express how you were feeling at the moment. You thought about your last conversation, the one where you heard he'd been hurt. Sam said it wasn't serious, but it was enough to cause you concern.

You decided you didn't want to hold back anymore when it came to your feelings about Sam. A hunter's life isn't always known to be a long one, and you were done wasting time. A smile broke out over your face as you resolved your writer's block. You wrote the three words that you felt best fit the situation, then left the note next to the cookies.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam convinced Dean to drop him off at the bunker so he had some time alone to talk with you. Dean said he would use the time to go back to town for a pizza or something. Sam first went to the kitchen, because he smelled the evidence of your baking endeavors. He saw the plate of cookies and bit into one as he read the note. As soon as he read the three words, he ran out of the kitchen.

A knock at your door startled you enough to make you drop the book you were reading. You took a deep breath then turned the doorknob. As soon as the door was open, Sam's hands were on you, cradling your face as he smashed his lips to yours. The urgency of his kiss made you gasp in surprise, creating an opening for Sam's tongue to slip inside. As you returned the favor, you could taste the cinnamon and sugar of the cookie he ate before he knocked on your door.

You broke the kiss when you needed to catch your breath. "Wow, Sam," you whispered. "That's some 'welcome home' you've got there," you chuckled.

"Couldn't help it, I had to see you, baby," he murmured. His right hand slid behind your head, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "Then I found the cookies and the note you'd left in the kitchen," he explained. Sam dove in for another kiss, but this one was slow and tantalizing, full of everything he was feeling at the moment. He pulled back from the kiss and guided you so you were both sitting on the edge of your bed.

Your hands slid up his chest and clasped behind Sam's neck. "I couldn't think of anything clever to put in the note this time. The more I thought about you, the less I wanted to hide how I felt about you. So I wrote the three words I believed would best fit the situation, and figured I'd explain once you read the note," you replied.

Sam grinned. "It said, 'Come find me', and how could I do anything else? I've thought about you so much these past couple of days. I don't want to hide how I feel about you, either. I love you," he declared, dipping his head lower to capture your lips with his own.

"Oh, Sam," you whispered. "I've felt this way for such a long time, but didn't know how to tell you. So, I baked," you both laughed. "I love you too," you replied softly.

You were about to pull Sam in for another kiss when you heard the bunker door slide open, which meant Dean was home. The two of you looked at each other and laughed, Sam's forehead leaned against yours. He gave you one last peck on the lips before he got up from the bed, his hand held out for you to take. You took his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers as you walked out to see what Dean brought for dinner.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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