#please tell me i'm not the only one who thought of this

[reignpage]

How the JJK men react to you being in a coma

Satoru is devastated

It’s a deadly silence that envelopes you as he carries you to safety, face stone cold and grip tight. Even as you’re being patched up, laid down on a hospital bed, he doesn’t say a word. Just stares and watches every bruise fade, every wound heal, and for the heaviness in your limbs to wash away. But your eyes don’t open. No one says the obvious. 

Lying on the bed with you, he cradles your head to his chest and whispers, “This is the closest to losing you I ever want to get.”

You’re practically locked away after that. He takes over your teaching duties, and he works overtime to ensure the area is as safe as can be whilst you recover, intent on making sure that when you wake up, all you have to do is make it up to him with hugs and kisses. Every curse that runs into him faces a slow and brutal death as he takes out every ounce of his pain on them. None of it is enough. No number of curses slain will bring you to consciousness. For every hour you slumber, Satoru loses sleep.

"I always knew you like to nap but this is just excessive, sweets. Leave some beauty for the rest of us, yeah?"

No one has ever seen him more serious.

"Please?"

Suguru is motivated

You weren’t supposed to get hurt. You weren’t supposed to be there at all. Finding you, lying in a puddle of your own blood send shivers of wrath coursing through his veins. It was them. Those filthy monkeys. Seeing you barely able to open your eyes is a kind of pain only non-sorcerers could cause.

As you sleep life away, he busies himself with plans, double checking everything is airtight and all will proceed as expected. He can’t let you get hurt again. He won’t let them hurt you again. “Hi, pretty girl. I’ve been gone, haven’t I? I’m sorry.”

You're taken care of by Nana and Mimi and every single shaky smile they hide from him steels his resolve even further.

"Yes, I think that colour suits her well. She always did love when you painted her nails. Why don't you do mine too? We can all match."

Manoeuvring you onto his chest, he pretends you’re merely napping. He decides, there and then, he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that the world you wake up to is one that’s safe for you, for your family, for your future.

Even if that world is devoid of him. 

Choso is panicked

He’s fussing, hands flying as he warns them to be careful of you. Every lack of sound of pain, of agony, and anguish from you makes him pull on his hair harder. You’ve always been the stronger one out of the two of you, so to see you limp, weak and silenced, sends his newfound heart racing. Even when it’s just the two of you, he runs around the house, fluffing up your pillow, getting you a glass of water, placing a warm towel on your forehead. 

“I don’t know what to do. You’re supposed to be the one who tells me what to do.”

Putting more hours sparring, he pushes his body to the limit, dedicated to getting stronger and better. He wants to protect you. To make sure you’re never in this position again. And though he’s always wanted to experience every part of being a human, grief is something he can do without. 

"I'll be fine, Yuji. Hit me harder. I can take it. No, I have to. Y/n needs me. I'm no good to her like this."

Toji is terrified

This can’t be happening again. He can’t lose someone else again. Someone so special to him, who taught him how to love again, to live and to know it’s okay to want more. "You promised you'd never put me in this position. You fucking promised."

You’re safer without him. You have people to take care of you. He'll only get in the way.

Leaving is the hardest thing he’s ever done. Every step feels like needles are pricking his feet, stabbing him in the heart somehow. He barely makes it a mile before his thoughts drift to you and stay there.

He thinks about you, weak and recovering. What if you wake up and no one’s there? Not a single family member or friend. He thinks about how you’ll croak his name, force your body up and search the house for him, limping. He imagines your legs will give up on you and you’ll fall, hurting yourself more.

The thought steals his breath and knocks him back. Rushing home, he drops his getaway bag and creeps into bed, holding you gently against him. 

“I’m here. I’m here, ma. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

Kento is ruined

His wife. His beautiful wife, losing the light in your eyes as he holds you. Gone is your smile, your warm touch and is instead replaced with shivering and shallow breaths. The noise that comes out of him is guttural and broken. "Oh, d-darling. Look at this mess. Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

You’re alive but sleeping. And he doesn’t know when you’ll wake. It feels as if you’re floating in that space between the world of the living and the dead, and he wants to follow. 

He never leaves your side. He freshens the flower by your bedside table, keeps a tight schedule of visitors. None of them can touch you, they can’t speak too loudly and they can’t complain by your ear about their personal lives — he only wants you to be surrounded by positive energy. 

“You’ll wake up soon, won’t you, sweetheart? Yes. Yes, you will because you always take care of me. You’ll tell me off for not shaving, for not eating and for pushing everyone away, wouldn’t you?"

Maintaining your routine, he washes your face, puts on face masks, and reads aloud by your side, hoping that a particularly dramatic prose will provoke a reaction from you.

"I need my wife. I need you. What am I supposed to do without you? Won’t you open your eyes for me? For your Kento?”

Sukuna is confused

He’s in disbelief as he's ushered into the room where you rest. Everyone is in a state of disarray and for what, he has no idea. You’re merely sleeping. He pokes your cheek. “Wake up, woman. Tell these pathetic fools to stop their useless quivering.”

When you don’t, he frowns. Brows furrowing, he tilts his head and examines your body. You’re breathing and he can hear your heart beating, and yet you don’t respond to his commands.

How insolent.

Waving the peasants away, he shakes your shoulder. “Your king has given an order. Follow it immediately or face punishment”

Even once he has it explained to him, he can’t wrap his head around the concept of you sleeping indefinitely, though he’s once gone through it himself. You’re different. Better. You’re supposed to be filled with endless optimism and energy. You’re supposed to be bothering him about smiling, pulling him to the garden to look at a flower he’s seen before.

"Humans really are f-fragile creatures. Ridiculous."

Tutting, he rolls his eyes and grumbles about how you’re not even making space for him on the bed. There, lying with you, he can do nothing but slumber and wait for your soul to reignite, sparking his once more.

[invoncible]

i loved your mark and popstar girly piece, it made me imagine the popstar girly making a song about mark but not telling anyone, but he knows because it describes his appearance and a moment he had with popstar girly perfectly. not a request just an thought i wanted to share

MARK GRAYSON & popstar! girly! reader (II) ✧˚. — this is basically a whole story at this point but no regrets

— thank u for sharing ur thoughts anon !! now you have to take responsibility for giving me brainrot cuz i fs went overboard with this one !! <3 — i hc the music career as sabrina carpenter coded, but tbh you can envision whoever u want !

being as big as you were, you liked to keep your private life under wraps. but if people listened to your music they'd be able to piece the story together.

when I talk to my friends so quietly / (who he think he is?) look at what you did to me

you and mark weren't dating yet when your debut album came out. you had finished your one year of fake school with him, amber, william, and eve. within that time, you fell for mark hard.

he was a dork, cute and funny, and he was the sweetest when he was with you. never talked about your wealth and actually treated you like a teenager instead of a spoiled daddy's girl.

you just had to write about him. your audience noticed a huge shift in the tone of your music. when you released your album, the love songs really hit because you really sounded like you were in love. they could hear the smile in your voice on the tracks.

when mark heard it, he wasn't as pleased as other fans for the exact same reason. he could tell you were feeling something for someone, and as far fetched as his hope for being with you was, he still felt some kind of way when you reminded him that you were out of his league. way out of his league.

william threw you a listening party to celebrate, and out of the corner of your eye you could see mark deflate more and more with each song.

did he hate it? you thought in a panic.

he got up abruptly to help out with 'family work,' as he called it.

"are you sure you can't stay?" you shot to your feet as he threw on his jacket.

he smiled sympathetically, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs. "m'sorry. it sounds so great so far, though. you're gonna blow up for sure. you look... uh," he cleared his throat, eyes darting back to the TV where your music video was playing. "really good, too."

heat rose to your face as you nodded minutely. "thanks." you mumbled.

he reached out to you on an impulse, his hand hanging in the air when he hesitated halfway through. he settled for awkwardly patting your shoulder.

"i'll listen to it all the way through once i'm done with work, promise." he shut the door with a swiftness.

"ughhhh, i give up. i hate him." you groaned, head in hands. william rubbed your back soothingly as you complained. "this is so embarrassing."

you thought you made it obvious that you liked him. you flirted and everything, but either he was stupidly dense or ignoring your advances.

"don't..." william exhaled tiredly, like he was close to giving up on mark himself. "don't give up. he's stupid, but he gets the point eventually."

"i must look crazy," you dig your wrists into your eyes in frustration. you hated feeling like this. your heart was swirling with affection but your head was telling you to stand up and drop him since he was obviously set on dismissing you.

"you're not crazy. i'll talk to him."

"don't do that!" you whined. "i'll look desperate..."

he raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading on his face. "you are desperate. but so is he."

i can see the stars all the way from here / can't you see the glow on the window pane? / i can feel the sun whenever you're near / every time you touch me, i just melt away

the whole world could tell you had a man when released your next few singles. the beats were bubbly and the lyrics were so sickly sweet that the only reasonable conclusion for being able to write them in the first place would be for you to be deep, deep, deep in your feelings.

with the help of william's nudging, mark finally confessed. it took a lot of encouragement, but he did it.

he stopped you from going home with a pull to your wrist, threading you along to a secluded corner of the school grounds. he looked tired, and you couldn't tell if that was a bruise or not on his cheek, but whatever he was going through did not dim the light in his eyes.

"look, um..." he took a slow breath in as if meditating. fear pounded in your chest. he was looking at you with a gravity one would expect to have when delivering bad news. was he delivering bad news?

"i like you." he blurted out.

oh.

"i like you," he repeated with a firmness, making the world stop on its axis. "and i would really like to take you out sometime. please."

you blinked at him for a moment, searing his cute determined expression to memory: the nervous pull of his brows, pouty frown, and clammy fists at his sides.

"yeah." you answered quietly but resolutely. "i'd like that."

he brightened, the tension on his face gone in an instant. poof! "really?"

his excitement was infections and rooted in your bones too, straightening up and mirroring his grin. "mhmm."

"okay." he muttered, stepping closer to you and hesitantly hugging you. you rolled your eyes and embraced him fully, circling your arms around his waist and squeezing. he smiled into your hair and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

dating mark was easy. for a time, that is.

i've never seen an ugly truth that i can't bend / to something that looks better, i'm stupid, but i'm clever / yeah, i can make a shit show look a whole lot like forever and ever

a couple months into your relationships, your audience picked up a little animosity in your lyrics towards the reoccurring 'boyfriend' figure you often sang about.

being busy was something you were familiar with—your entire life was busy. so that's why when mark was off in university and balancing a full time job (that he always described too vaguely for your liking), you understood.

but there came a time you were just sure he was cheating on you. he left to take calls, promising the person on the other end he'd 'be right there,' and disappear for weeks at a time. can someone really have five different work trips in the span of a month?

"mark," you accepted his hug with a heavy heart. you hated to do this when he just got back, but you couldn't go on without knowing.

"missed you," he mumbled into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. he pulled back, pausing at your downturned expression. he frowned. "what's wrong?"

"mark." you started, glossy lips pursed in a pout. "is there someone else?"

the mere idea of cheating made him want to punch a hole through a wall. the fact you thought he was cheating—you thought he was cheating on you? the most perfect thing in the world, the reason he worked so hard? it made his heart twist painfully.

"no!" he scoffed in disbelief, cupping your face and looking into your watery eyes. "of course not. how could you think that?"

you shrugged his hands off and stepped back. "you're always talking to someone. after you get their call, you run off. i just—it doesn't make sense—"

"it's work stuff, y/n, you know that!" he chased after you, letting his backpack fall off his shoulder with a loud thud to the floor.

"what's work?" you snapped. "you always say it's work, but what are you doing, really? that you have to be away from home for so long?"

his mouth opened, then closed. his breath caught in his chest as the thought raced through his mind: do it. you trust her, so do it.

but no matter how much he wanted to tell you the truth, he couldn't bring you into that life. he wouldn't turn you into his mother. for as happy as she was by his father's side, one wrong move, one mistake... it could cost you your life.

you had so much life in you, he couldn't bear to be the one who takes it all away.

you watched him wilt in real time, nothing but a sigh leaving his lips.

"unbelievable." you whispered. "you're not going to tell me?"

he grappled for the words, hanging his head when he came up short. "i can't."

"can't what?"

"tell you," he shot back, fists curling at his sides dangerously. "i can't tell you."

"why?" you crossed your arms and jealously and paranoia rear their ugly heads. "is there someone else?"

"no!"

"then what, mark?" you snapped.

nothing. he said nothing, standing in the entrance of your room numbly.

"fine. don't tell me." a confusing mix of heartbreak and embarrassment pulsed through your veins, mustering up whatever bravado you had left to end things. "get out."

you couldn't handle the desperation on his face as he stepped forward. you turned around to save yourself the trouble of giving in.

"y/n, it's—"

"get out."

pour my feelings in the microphone / i stay in, and when the girls come home / i want one of them to take my phone / take my phone and lose your / number, i don't wanna be tempted

there wasn't a lot of activity from you when you broke up with mark. your first real boyfriend, gone, without so much as closure. you never understood his secrecy about his job and it gnawed at your soul. could things have worked out if he was honest? or would it have wrecked your relationship even more?

"you need to get out of this house, y/n." william was gentle with you, dutifully listening to you vent and offering real advice.

"i can't." you choked, curled in blankets that hadn't been washed in weeks.

"you can."

"i don't want to." you revised, letting your heavy eyes fall shut.

william was torn. he knew everything about mark, including his secret identity, and he felt like shit withholding that information from you. but it wasn't his place to tell you as much as he wanted it to be. he was both your friend and mark's friend which made it all the more harder.

you hand him your phone. "will you... delete his number for me?"

william slumped in his seat, a deep frown on his lips. "y/n... are you sure?"

"just do it." you muttered, tossing your phone to the cushion between you and burrowing back into your cocoon of misery.

"sure." william whispered, taking your phone. his finger hovered over the block button, but...

he set your phone down and called mark instead, demanding he make things right.

[]

that's how he ended up outside your window. you were just about to sink into your fluffy sheets and doze off when you heard the faint tap tap tap at your giant bay window.

you frowned, prowling over to the glass and peering through.

"ah—!" you shrieked when mark's face popped up, looking like nightmare fuel itself hanging there in the darkness.

"shh!" his voice was muffled on the other side. he smiled sheepishly as he pointed to the window lock.

your first instinct was to rip the window open and pull him into your arms, but...

"you're ... flying..." you whispered, staring at him in disbelief. after a moment, you let him in.

he hovered outside before slipping in, touching down on your carpet. he pulled off his civilian clothes to reveal the invincible suit underneath. "this is what i didn't want to tell you." he murmured.

you just stared at him, your mind already putting together the pieces. all the times he's had to run off, all the days he's come home tired... if you weren't so busy with your own career, you'd probably have picked up on it sooner.

"i was scared that i'd put you in danger." he frowned, walking up to you and placing a gentle hand on your arm. "i didn't want to put that burden on you."

you instinctively leaned into his touch, the familiarity overwhelming your confusion.

"you don't look so good," he mumbled, cupping your face and dragging his thumb over your cheeks. dark circles had bloomed on your skin.

"yeah, well..." you sighed, trying to steady your breathing. "i missed you."

mark softened, pulling your into his chest and tucking your head under his chin as he cradled you. "i missed you too, baby. i'm so sorry. i would never cheat on you, you know that, right?"

"yeah." you exhaled, burying yourself into his chest and soaking up his warmth. it felt good to be in his arms again. then your nails dug into his back.

he hissed. "wha—"

"don't make decisions on my behalf." you began, glaring up at him. "you're so sweet for thinking of me, but i'll choose what burdens to bear."

there was an apprehension on his face, as if he thought you didn't understand the gravity of being in a relationship with a superhero entailed, but he wasn't going to push you away again.

he needed you as much as you needed him.

"okay?" you pressed for an answer.

he smiled and kissed your forehead. "yes, ma'am. i love you."

you tumbled into bed together and the rest is history.

who's the cute guy with the wide brown eyes and the big bad mm, like—

after you and mark were completely open with each other, you were so full of joy and love; of course it seeped into your music. as well as your hornier thoughts.

you and mark didn't have to go anywhere in particular to feel like you were spending time together. relaxing in bed, hanging out with his family, or visiting your studio were the most common ways you enjoyed each other's presence.

you were recording your latest album, the tracks ranging from an i love you vibe to i want to fuck you vibe.

mark was there when you were recording one of the later, lounging on the couches in the producer's box as they listened to what direction you wanted to take the track.

he was always so enraptured with your singing. however when he started clueing into the lyrics, he might as well have shut down.

the first time he heard these lyrics, he sunk into the couch and pulled his hoodie over his head. it was obvious to the crew that the song was about him and everything he did to you, but thankfully they didn't pass him any weird looks or anything. how could they, when you were smiling so brightly in the booth as you giggled over these references, ones that only two people in the world would truly understand? he kept their talent happy, and that was what mattered.

of course, he didn't mind you writing about him. he loved it. but hearing your thoughts—how you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things, or how you're looking at me, yeah, i know what that means, and i'm obsessed—was the best gift in the world.

after your workday ended, mark had so much pent up energy to release.

"'bed chem', huh?" a lovesick grin spread on his face as he pulled his shirt over his head. "s'that what you think we have?"

"yeah." you giggled, pulling him in and rolling on top of him. your hand trailed down his chest. "you like the song?"

"love the girl who made it," he craned his neck to peck your lips, delighting in the giggle he drew from your lips and ramping up to give you more inspiration for your next album. better to start early.

wanna try out some freaky positions? ...have you ever tried this one?

it seems he gave you too much inspiration.

it was no secret you and mark were freaky. literally, it wasn't a secret—the team at the GDA always kept tabs on the people their heroes engaged with, so of course they knew of you and what you did.

mark learned this the hard way when your album finally released. the entire world loved it, tiktok dances and trends popping up left and right. unfortunately, because of its popularity it reached guardians' HQ and the pentagon (thanks to the younger employees who enjoyed a couple coffee breaks).

rex snorted as he blasted this song from the computer. "what do you and your girl get up to for her to be making bangers like this?"

mark's lips twitched up, his skin warming as he remembered the many times he gave you reason to write these lyrics. "i mean, she's telling you, isn't she?"

rex's smile grew as the song progressed. "fuzzy pink handcuffs?"

"nothing more you need to know."

the sound of someone clearing their throat made them both whip around.

cecil stood in the landing, unimpressed that they were using government property to listen to bubblegum pop.

"didn't realize this was a recreational facility, boys." he grumbled as he walked up the stairs.

mark's cheeks reddened. cecil's frown deepened when the chorus grew close to it's end, where you sang one of me is cute, but two though?

"...please don't be having children any time soon." the director's eyes flickered up to the lyric video playing on the screen. "you and your brother are trouble enough—"

"okay, okay!" mark cut him off, embarrassed this was even a conversation. his arm reached to pause the video when the bridge neared, knowing how crazy you went when writing it.

"no, no, i wanna hear it." rex pouted, slapping his hand away from the keyboard.

"yeah, you can listen to it all you want when our boss isn't in the room."

cecil rolled his eyes, waving him off. "i've already listened to all of it. against my will, of course, y/n is very popular at the pentagon."

in that moment, mark wanted the ability to teleport.

i'm working late 'cause i'm a singer / oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger / my twisted humor make him laugh so often / my honeybee, come and get this pollen

this song was dubbed the song of the summer; it played multiple times on the radio, in grocery stores, in coffee shops... mark couldn't escape it. and that's how he liked it.

mark is your number one fan. to have such a smart, loving, funny girl write songs about him was a blessing in of itself, and sometimes he watched your performances from the front row like ... how did i bag her?

100% started crying at the end of your concert. his phone was filled with hundreds of photos and videos of you. as confetti floated down from above and the colorful lights danced over the crowd, he felt overwhelmed. he's been surviving for so long, but with you it's like he finally got to just... live. exist without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

he was allowed backstage after you signed off on another successful night. he came up behind you, pulling your back to his chest and squeezing you tight.

you squeaked, trying not to spill your mouthful of water, setting down your water bottle. you gulped and pat his arms around your abdomen. "hey, baby."

he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, uncaring as you squirmed away from him.

"mark," heat grew on your face as you laughed. "i'm sweaty and hot—"

"you are hot."

"hot, as in warm." you chuckled with a shake of your head. "lemme shower and we can cuddle?"

mark let out a small laugh against your neck, his hold on you firm but gentle. "don’t care. i just wanna be close to you."

your heart squeezed at the way he said it... so soft, so full of love. you turned in his arms, brushing damp strands of hair from your face as you looked up at him. you knew you smelled like hairspray and hours of dancing.

"you okay?" you asked, voice gentle.

he nodded, but his eyes were a little glassy. "i just… what did i do to deserve you?"

you cupped his face, pressing a tender kiss to his lips and rubbing away the lipstick sticking to the corner of his mouth. "you don't have to do anything to 'deserve' love, mark. "

he exhaled shakily, a wobbly smile breaking through.

you rested your forehead against his. "and if you give me fifteen minutes, we can cuddle properly."

he pulled away, taking off his hoodie and offering it to you. he helped you get it over your head and found it so cute when your eyes peeked out of the huge hood. he chuckled as he squished your cheeks together, kissing your pursed lips. "with this pretty outfit on, it's definitely gonna take more than fifteen minutes to take it off and shower."

you hummed, thinking. he could see the idea pop into your head.

"you can come watch, if you want?"

mark was a simple guy. of course he took you up on your offer.

but if you want my kisses / i'll be your perfect mrs. 'til the day that one of us dies

you didn't tell him about your deluxe bonus songs. he listened to them on his own as soon as he could. something about this line made him contemplate his future with you.

he immediately flew to your house.

"mark!" you exclaimed, sitting up when he shot through your window. you settled for leaving it open nowadays, with how often he sneaks in.

"you mean this?" he panted, catching his breath. he held his phone up with your voice playing out the speaker.

you recognized the verse he was referring to, a bashful heat blooming on your face. "of course i mean it. but if—"

"no." he cut you off with a swiftness.

he chucked his phone aside, ripping off his mask and jumping onto the bed. he crawled between your legs, resting his head on the fluff of your tummy. he breathed in deeply, eyes fluttering closed as his arms snaked around your waist. "i love you."

you giggle, heart squeezing as you ran your fingers through his hair. "i love you, too, baby."

"i'll make it happen."

"yeah?"

"yeah," he smiled against your skin, pressing a sweet kiss to the apex of your thigh. "anything for you."

© invoncible

[noheadcanons-juststories]

Vampire!141 x fledgling!reader, who was found abandoned and starved. meeting 141

“Who called you?” you demand to know.

“Amos,” the man with the chops answers.

Boss called them?

“Are you from the Night Council?” you dread.

“Not at all. Amos is an old friend of ours, back from service,” he explains. His voice was soft yet weathered, like an easy thunderstorm on the countryside. “He informed us that one of his employees was possibly attacked. Asked us to come help.”

So these men were not from the Night Council as you feared. But you were still weary to open the door.

“I didn't ask for help,” you retort with a raggedy cough. “Whoever you are, just… just tell him that I won't be coming in anymore.”

“Listen, lass,” a new man spoke up, very much Scottish with a very nice mohawk, “Amos called us in fer a favor. But once he explained the situation, we let him keep it. He's worried, and ye need someone to take care o’ ye. So we're here to help you.”

“Please…” you beg. “I don't wanna be treated like some charity case. So unless you're gonna kill me, just leave me alone.” You were tired, in pain. You could barely stand anymore.

The tall man in the skull-plated mask approaches your window, looking you dead in the eyes. “You really wanna die, fledgling?” a rougher voice asks. “‘Cause I can arrange that.”

“Simon,” Chops quietly reprimands.

“No, Cap, we need to get this outta the way,” ‘Simon’ persists. “‘Cause m'not gonna come all the way here for a fledgie too weak to live.”

“Bit harsh, dontcha’ think, Lt.?” Scot frowns.

Simon ignores him. “The reason we're here is because our friend is worried about his employee,” he tells you. “He fuckin’ cares about you. Now, we can be civil, and you let us in. Or we can cut to the end, and I put you out of your misery, quick and painless. So what's it gonna be?”

As he speaks, you slowly slide down to the floor. Pulling your blankets tighter around you. Truthfully, neither option sounds appealing. You don't know these men. Childhood lessons on stranger danger and accepting help from strange men never prepared you for the undead. But on the other hand, did you really want to go out a pathetic, dehydrated corpse? There's only two outcomes with two different paths leading to either. Die or find a clan. The Night Council does not guarantee anything except your immediate end. Meanwhile, Amos got a clan on speed dial for you.

John sits down by your window. “Listen, love…” he speaks softly. “We're here because Amos refused to call the Night Council on ya. And I don't blame him. They're diligent, but they're still pretty ruthless. Especially towards those abandoned. He called us because he knew we were the better choice.”

 You lean against the wall. “You could've refused…” you whisper.

“Could’ve,” John shrugs. “But didn't want to.”

“Why not?”

There were a few reasons…

“‘Cause I’d hate for a fledgling to die without bein’ given a chance,” he responds.

…One of them being that he was once in the same boat as you when he was first turned, albeit through uglier circumstances…

“Regardless of how you got here, you need someone to show you the ropes.”

…He was looking to sire another vampire after Kyle, despite his own reservations about immortality. Amos just happened to call while he was brewing in his thoughts, surprised that the old faun still had his number…

“And it'd be a shame to lose a sweet soul like you.”

…And Amos had only good things to say about you, practically gushing as if you were his own kid. Kind yet firm with a bit of confidence, you were.

You let out a sigh, frowning as you reconsider your options. Your expression worsens when you remember that you only have two. “What's your name?” you ask the vampire.

“John Price.”

“What do you do, Mr. Price?”

“I hunt vampires.”

You giggle after letting the thought simmer for a bit. “You hunt vamps?”

“Only the bad ones,” he smiles.

“Do I… I don't fit that criteria, do I?” you question.

John shakes his head. “No. Not at all.”

“...Mr. Price?”

“Yeah, love?”

“I'm scared,” you admit.

“I know,” is all he says. “That's why we're here.”

Kyle joins John's side beneath your window. Then Johnny, who doesn't want to be left out, and lastly, Simon, who doesn't want to be left behind at all. The men sit underneath the glow of the Half Moon. Small chirps in the grass and distant hooting in the trees bring a peaceful ambiance to the evening. Coupled with the bipolar winds of Spring gently weaving through the grassy fields.

“Whaddya wanna do, lass?” Johnny asks you.

“I don't know,” you say, trying not to cry for the umpteenth time.

“Well then,” Simon speaks up again, “whaddya not wanna do?”

“...Not hurt anyone… and not die.

John nods once. “Alright… that's a good place to start… Think you can unlock the door for us?”

It's silent for a bit, but you don't go to the door. Instead, you unlock the window and crack it open just a tad. The four men look back to see you stick your hand out, pale and spindly, which Kyle takes into both of his.

“We're right here for you, fledgie,” he comforts you, gently squeezing. “And we're not leaving you behind.”

And for that moment, you believe him.

Role Call!: @boy-pussyyy

[lizardho]

The Halloween Story

As with most of my life stories, I have to clarify beforehand: Yes, this is real, and it is real because (and ONLY because) I am stupid. This is not something that happens to normal people because they wouldn't ever get close enough to a situation like this for it to happen. That being said, without estrogen my brain's "keep this idiot alive" switch was not turned on and I was, I think, biologically incapable of making good decisions.

Another thing to know is that I did not have a lot of friends as a kid because I'm terminally awkward; additionally, most of the friends I did have were maybe better described as "people who tolerated me but who I would take a bullet for." This is important for later.

Anyways, I was like 9 or 10 when this happened, and my littlest brother was like...5 or 6? This was his first Halloween where he was allowed to Trick-or-Treat past the end of our block, and he HAD to be accompanied by me or another older kid so he had begged me for DAYS to take him. And while I held the title of oldest brother, I feel like I put my whole pussy into being a good oldest brother, so I of course took the family's babiest of babies for his first ever trick-or-treat adventure!

I went dressed as Dartanian because I've been gay for a while, and he went dressed as a skeleton because he's adorable. We went trick-or-treating only in areas I knew, so mostly within the boundaries of our l'il Mormon ward, and we had fun. About a half-mile away from home, he started saying he was getting tired, so I told him we were gonna turn back and watch "Scary" movies, which was actually just two old VHS Scooby Doo episodes my mom let us watch because she only let us watch episodes where the monsters were fake because if they were real we'd get nightmares. So we start walking back. It's not too far and we know the way so it's going great. Littlest bro's first trick-or-treat adventure went swimmingly, we've got pillow cases full of candy, and we're about to watch scooby doo and eat skittles until we pass out. Life, for us, literally could not have been better.

BUT

As I walk around the corner of my old street, the far end of it, by a bush, I hear my best friend whisper-shout at me from a bush:

"Lizard, Lizard, stop, hide, quick!"

In most cases, my thoughts can be summarized by a humble: "Bwuh?" and in this case I'm pretty sure I said something like that out loud. I look into the bush, and I see it is JAM-FUCKING-PACKED with kids my age. Like 6 of them hiding behind this tall oleander bush shaking like they just saw a ghost. I wave to them, because I don't know what's going on, and tell them that Littlest Brother is tired so I'm going home. That's when one of them angrily grabbed me and littlest brother and tugged us into the oleander with them.

I think they thought we were hidden, but this was one shrub currently occupied by like 7 kids and despite how small we all were that was still more shrub-per-kid than the shrub could hide so me and littlest brother didn't actually fit. And I was squirming trying to get away because it was poky and scratchy and smelled bad and also I didn't know why I was being pulled into a shrub to begin with.

The ruckus of my squirming was freaking my friends out, who were all telling me to shut up and hide, and I was telling them I wasn't playing hide-n-seek and Littlest Brother was REALLY getting tuckered out so PLEASE let go so I can go home, when around the corner came three Big Kids on bikes.

These kids seemed HUGE and SCARY to me at the time, although realistically they were like in 8th grade and also dork-ass losers. They were on bikes with handlebar breaks, though, and they were wearing costumes ironically under hoodies, so they seemed scary at the time. They see me thrashing in a bush and correctly deduced that the kids they had been hunting down were in the bush too. This is when I learned that my friends were all scared because they'd been being hunted for sport by older boys. Like, actually, for real, we were being bullied on Halloween by kids who called us "dweebs" and shit, I cannot explain how that was actually happening in the early 2000s, that was a worn-out trope in the 80s, but it for real, actually, swearsy-realsies, happened to me.

They're bigger than us and have at least started puberty so they're a lot stronger than us. They fished us all out of the bush pretty easily and made us all line up. This was all happening on a well-lit suburban street in a Mostly Mormon neighborhood so again, I don't know how it all got this far, but it did.

Once we were lined up, they start quipping about our costumes and harassing us a little bit. Again, this is like STRAIGHT out of a shitty campy overdone 80s sitcom so I get that this sounds fake, but we were literally getting pushed around and called dweebs and nerds by some fuckass 8th graders who were all smoking a cigarette one of them stole from their mom. Finally they were getting bored so they told us that their terms to releasing us were that we give them our candy.

My friends, who are smart and wanted to be alive, immediately started grabbing fistfuls of candy from their buckets or bags to hand them. But I am stupid, and was trying to be a good older brother, and didn't understand the concept of mortality because HRT had not yet flipped that switch in my brain, and I saw littlest brother getting scared. His lips were trembling like he was about to cry, he was clinging onto me for dear life, and one of these kids comes over and is being all mean and calling him a baby (which he basically was, so like what even is the point?) and I got mad. So I took my prop rapier from it's sheath and started jabbing his ribs and head until he rips it out of my hand.

"Jesus Christ, you little faggot. I'm keeping this, you're not getting your sword back."

"K, fine, just leave my brother alone."

"I leave him alone if you give me ALL your candy."

He says it with this shit-eating grin, like he's got the upper hand. But I'm mad and suicidal in the same way a horse is suicidal, which is to say I don't care if I die as long as this fucker dies too, so I tell him if he wants my candy he can have it, and I wallop him with the candy sack. Hard. I put all 70 lbs of 9-year-old rage into that whump, and to my credit it caught him off guard. He steps back and rubs his face and the biggest kid in the group steps into his place.

"You wanna fight?" He's trying to act tough but he's also trying to square up with an unquestionably faggy 9-year-old Dartanian so it's tough. It's also a stupid, stupid question to ask, since I literally DID want to fight and he was just posturing.

So I hit him too. Again, all the rage my 9-year-old body possessed channeled into a pillow case filled with Dum Dums and skittles slaps into his face. I move to smack him again, because he's looking at me all incredulous like he doesn't think I'm serious. He tries to grab the bag but I kick his shin and he has to step back for a second because he was on his bike with only one leg on the ground and I had just kicked it so he was trying to keep balance. I took advantage of the momentary distraction and whapped him in the belly. That, I think, was the final straw for him, because he (seriously, yes, for real) took out an actual knife.

It was a real folding knife, I could hear the little mechanical click as he flicked the blade out and the locking mechanism secured it in place. He looks at me with murderous intent for like a tenth of a second before one of my other friends asks,

"Dude, are you serious?"

And it clicks that he just threatened someone with a real weapon. He takes a step back and tells me, trying to sound brave but now far enough out of his own comfort zone that he's starting to wonder what happened in his life to bring him here (which is dangerous, confused people do confusing shit).

But I'm horse-style suicidal and I honestly didn't think it was real, so I swing at him again. Full-body swing right for the face, and he slashes at the candy pouch and it tears. And I'm like "Oh shit, that's a real knife!" and he's like, "Oh shit, this kid is gonna beat me until I stab her or run!'' And that's when my Knight-in-Emo-Armor arrived!

The kid was like the archetypal "Bad Boy" of my childhood. He wore black hoodies to church and said "damn" instead of "dang" and "shit" instead of "shoot." He listened to metal music and told his grandma (who adopted him after his mom lost custody for drug use stuff) to shut up sometimes. He smoked. He was a moody goth/emo/scene/whatever enigma of rage from his shitty family life. He was also known for being actually real-life dangerous. The kid in front of me was contemplating stabbing me, but my Knight had actually broken someone's jaw in a fight before.

The whole time we were getting held up, he was just walking down the street listening to an honest-to-God MP3 player, stoned as all hell, angry at the world, and watching this all unfold. And he recognized a bunch of kids from church he barely gave a shit about, but then he recognized *me* and although he didn't know *me* super well, he fucking LOVED my dad because my dad was super nice to him at church, and he knew I was my dad's kid. And he knows the kids talking to us are bad news because he's friends with some of their friends and he knows they're all wannabe tough guys. And he makes a decision.

This guy, my knight, was tall, mean, scary, and crabby, and EVERYONE knew that, not just the Mormons in my life. And in all black, with black hair and black nail polish, he had remained almost perfectly hidden as he walked in the middle of the road on the tar-black Arizona asphalt until he suddenly emerged from the shadows right behind the kid with the knife.

"Bruh, what the fuck are you doing?"

This kid whips around and sees my knight and just blanches. Like, all-the-way white-as-a-sheet scared.

"Oh, Knight, h-h-hey, I didn't see you. You know these kids? We're just teasing them!"

"Hilarious joke, cocksucker. That's a real knife. Fuck off."

They almost left a cartoon dust cloud in the shape of their bodies as they left. My friend and "friends" from church all followed suit - Knightboy was BAD news with a capital B-A-D and they were probably more scared of him than the original trio. But I knew Knightboy because he teased me a lot in his last year elementary school and sometimes came over to talk with my dad so I knew he wasn't a bad kid. He bends down and picks up the plastic sword the first kid dropped and gives it back to me.

"This is yours, I think."

I took it, sheathed it, and said, "Thanks! You shouldn't swear."

"Man, I'm too stoned for this shit, just get out of here."

"Ok, thanks Knight! See you at church tomorrow!"

And I toddle off with Littlest Brother. I take him to some of the best houses on our street for a second round of trick-or-treating so he can calm down, and we go home. My mom puts Scooby Doo on and asks me how everything went - I tell her it was fine, it was fun. She said that Littlest Brother said something scary happened, and I said "Oh, I think he got spooked by Knight is all." And she just shrugged and walked off. By the end of the night, I honestly forgot it even happened. I was more invested in trying to figure out how to grow up to be like Velma and lining my skittles up by color so I fully did not even remember.

BUT.

My mom is friends with all the other moms at church - she has to be because she has a master's degree in a church that teaches that employed women are failing God and their families so she ended up as a high-achieving woman working as a stay-at-home mom and if she didn't make friends at church she would fully go insane.

And at church the next day, my mom is approached by a tiny pack of mothers all saying "Wow, Lizard is so brave, aren't you so proud of her?"

And because she's a Good Mom who Loves Me So Much, she says, "Yeah, totally, why do you ask?"

And they say, "Because she tried to fight off some muggers last night! She hit them with her candy bag!"

And my mom says, "Haha, Yeah, she's fierc-wait what in the fresh hell did you say?"

And they all tell her the story, and my mom is PISSED that I didn't mention, but she also knows I am capital-D Dumb, so she pulls me out of Sunday school and asks me,

"Lizard, baby, did you scare off some muggers last night?"

And I said, "Oh yeah, kinda! Knight was the one that actually scared them though."

And she says, "Lizard, baby, why did you not tell me?"

And I said, "Oh, I forgot."

And she just nodded and tried unsuccessfully to push my little "Alfalfa sprout" strand of hair down, and gave up, and then pushed me back into class. And later that day she made like 3 lbs of chocolate chip cookies and drove them all over to Knight's house to thank him. And basically ever since then I was in Knight-in-shining-armor's good books (although he wasn't very good at showing it for a bit), and I had an undeserved reputation among the kids in my church as a badass for like a year, which I felt pretty good about.

Anyways, the Halloween Story is so weird that sometimes I question my own memory of it, but I am telling it now based on my memory as best as I can recall and after fact-checking it with my mom a few times.

[epiphainie]

"tommy doesn't think he's inherently unlovable; tommy just refuses to acknowledge what's in front of him to protect himself" i know you said this in a joke but he's trying to protect himself because of his insecurities that he's unloved/unworthy, isn't it? i don't see how these are two opposing statements

*cracks knuckles*

gonna use this ask as an opportunity to write my tenth tommy meta this week. i feel like i'm saying the same thing with different words at this point but who am i to refuse the one nameless person in my inbox.

maybe this is like trying to call between two shades of the same color but there's a difference to me, personally. i don't think this is the only right interpretation but it's the way all the pieces of tommy fit together in my head to make up something interesting. i don't think the show thinks 1% of this nuance (i'm simply a fic writer who's obsessed with character voice) nor do i expect for the storyline to unravel in a way that fits this. this is just what's logical and interesting to me.

"trying to protect himself because he's insecure" i think we got that part in common! i just don't think that every insecurity boils down to a sense of self-consciousness, lack of worth, not seeing yourself as loveable etc. and to me tommy's someone whose insecurities are fear around letting people in, opening up, and putting himself in a situation where it/he could fail because he's spent so much of his life staying in that safe cocoon. i think tommy's scared of what lies beyond his comfort zone which results in this lack of belief that his relationships could even work in longevity and him latching onto anything he could as confirmation bias for that. now i only have tommy's vague backstory to go with here (other than his actions) so i will start there.

what we know about tommy prior to the begins episodes is that he has a father whom he compares to gerrard. now this is me reading into it too much obviously, he could have just meant they're both bigots, but this tells me that more than neglegtful, growing up he had a father who was oppressive. who was on tommy's case too closely and too threateningly and i think that came with huge expectations put on tommy, especially with him being gay and closeted. tommy imo started performing to meet these obscure standards (of being a man, of being a son, of being a soldier etc.) from such a young age which continued into his time in the military and the 118 and, to a degree, the present.

tommy's just incredibly good at the smoke and mirrors of being the cool friend, the nonchalant dude, the vice president of gerrard's boys club, the easygoing boyfriend, the ex who's down to fuck etc. i know people call this his people-pleasing for some cases but there's nothing pleasing about tommy, tommy's a bitch, he puts a little distance in between regardless of how friendly he is, but this doesn't make the act any less of a mask. a mask he's trying to sell as authentic, especially to himself. i think what people don't consider much here is just how easy it is to buy into your own performance of whatever personality you're putting on even when you're aware you're doing it. why poke the bear when it's safe and cozy where you keep yourself to yourself and not risk any disappointment or failure? we know he does this in his friendships, first with chimney (the puppy he simply can't take the responsibility of) and later chimney, hen, and bobby who are alllowed in close enough to enjoy a pint with but not enough to know about abby (and much later, with eddie but it doesn't fit anywhere here. for more thoughts on eddietommy, here).

now we know that tommy's not entirely living a lie at this point. tommy's out and tommy's made some progress on himself. that comfort zone at one point became so unbearable that he had to burst it, regardless of how hurtful and scary it was. i still maintain that tommy's a man who to a degree has made peace with himself. he recognizes himself as a person with wants that are not shameful and past deeds that are not incriminating. this is partly why i don't think tommy's issue is seeing himself as unworthy of love, a relationship, a future etc. and we see tommy move motivated by this changing belief. when we saw him back on our screens again, it's still hard for him to admit (love how much he squirms and tenses up) to vulnerable stuff but he wants to tell buck that he's always wanted friends like the 118 regardless. he goes along with trying again during the coffee scene despite how quickly he took himself out of the situation after their first date. tommy to me is someone who's healed enough to know he can want and he would be wanted back but then...

it gets too much, it gets too close. i won't get too much into my thoughts about the breakup because i've talked about it for months but i maintain that tommy's acting out of a deeply-etched defense mechanism here than an actual belief that buck can do better, buck deserves someone who's not as fucked up as tommy, tommy who's not worthy of buck's love etc etc. however way you put that sentiment. at hearing how much buck wants, how serious he wants to take this relationship, tommy immediately lays down what he's been cooking in his head as a defense against this moment for months, probably without knowing. the reveal about eddie supports this point imo. i can write another meta about what jealousy is for tommy but here more than anything buck and eddie's relationship serves as confirmation of what he knew all along: this relationship was always going to end. he won't be buck's last and that will break his heart. done, the end, this is the story tommy bought into before it even begun. this is the story once put out there ensures that tommy's left alone, in this familiar place where he doesn't have to put too many chips in, where he doesn't have to reveal too much of himself, where he doesn't have to risk his feelings. buck could say no as many times as he wants; it doesn't matter, this is tommy's narrative.

the next time we see him, he's bought into the performance of being okay with this. honestly, most of what powers my tommy meta is that i truly think he's stubborn as hell. regardless of how keen he is, how aware he's doing this, he goes along with buck's flirting. i think i diverge with many people here because nothing imo, NOTHING, about what tommy's doing here is an act of vulnerability. it's the mask, guys, it's the mask! he gives in as much as buck's willing to give back, they both short change each other without talking about what they really want and what the breakup even meant.

but of course they have a great night, and tommy's feeling more hopeful in the morning. (i know i said we haven't seen him regretting the breakup at all but maybe i was being too harsh on him because i can see the breakfast as a gesture of "making up for it" in the classic tommy way of not actually yet acknowledging that he made a bad decision all those months ago but repenting anyway) this is the tommy who showed up at buck's loft to be vulnerable with him, take inititave, clear the air. but ofc despite all that healing, this again doesn't come easily to him, and this time he's more invested in this, there are bigger risks being known in this way (with his insecurities and jealousy and regret (maybe lol)) to his ex compared to sharing one little vulnerable thing with a virtual stranger. and he botches up the entire thing by trying to deliver it with the unbothered, cool guy mask. a little hand-wavy deflection, a little downplaying of what he actually feels. then buck's in his face and it becomes downplaying of what buck says he's feeling, the survival instinct of burrowing into that narrative that makes him feel safe and in the right again. the narrative that AGAIN ensures he's left alone and he's not poked at anymore where he tried to attempt an opening.

when i say tommy's half lies in his head, this is what i mean. not that his mind is telling him he's unloved when he actually is. i mean that he literally has this idea of himself, this idea of buck, this idea of their relationship that he sticks to because it's easier to understand and it's safer for him. people always talk about buck's passivity but tommy's the same, if not worse, because he's treading so carefully he can't allow himself to take an actual chance with buck. it's such a mirror of tommy going along with gerrard's boy club in my head, such a mirror of tommy not risking to emotionally invest in a relationship with chimney, tommy not being able to put himself in a position where he could be family with the 118. buck's familiar in many ways (i don't think either of them were poking the bear during those six months), i actually think a big deal with buck's relationships is that he CANNOT acknowledge any conflict or conflicting emotions but buck's way of dealing with it is to pour out as much as he can even when it's poorly thought out (like jumping to moving in together to cling to their relationship after the abby reveal) or ignore it completely till it comes out (arguably his hurt feelings over the breakup finally coming out in the kitchen fight scene.)

tommy's is to find a counterargument in his own head, to take the strategic exit, to slide it to a side neatly, decisively, cold turkey. he tries, like i said the let's try thing is him attempting to put his heart on a plate regardless of how badly he does it, but he simply cannot stay in that heartbreak for thirty seconds because of the horrifying ordeal of being known. partly to buck, partly to himself. which of course means tommy never actually lives. i think there's something so delicious about this especially for a character like tommy who on the surface has SO MUCH LIFE. he has flying into hurricanes, he has taking friends to vegas, he has million hobbies and one, sex to have with his boyfriend, basketball games to take him to, try desserts around LA and whatnot. but how much of that's living without getting a little real? how much of that's to balance out all the important things compermantalized away?

anyway do i think all this i said mutually exclusive with tommy thinking he's unlovable? not really. i think a base level insecurity in your worthiness is only normal when you put so much between you and the rest of the world but it changes the way i personally see how tommy sounds in his own head and how tommy perceives things. i actually think there's a level of self-assuredness in his stubbornness, in his way of buying into his own narratives and the image he's putting out. i also think he's partially aware he's doing this. so for example i cannot imagine tommy being upset about eddie cutting him off in a self-victimizing manner because he's aware of his own part in it, the intentionality when he left buck the way he did. the same way i cannot imagine him taking buck's words of "i dont have to have feelings for everyone i sleep with" at face value without being half-aware that buck's reacting to what he's said and doesn't mean it. i can't see tommy, who for all intents and purposes was the one who pushed buck away, genuinely taking it as buck telling the truth. tommy in my head either takes it as confirmation for what he knew* all along (*lied to himself about because it fits his narrative and that's a comfortable form of torture, also leaves him kind of blameless for breaking up with buck in the first place) OR if he's genuinely less resistant to the bitch in his ear now, as "lowkey done with my bullshit, let's have some instrospection about what my role here was and how it came to this point that evan's first instinct is to push me away by refusing his feelings"

i don't think he's at that stage yet so i think number one. explains why he shuts down and leaves again. tried, didn't work, i was right to think it wouldn't work. exit, pursued by tommy kinard.

okay last bit, i couldn't find a place to fit this because it's more buck meta BUT what i also love about this interpretation of tommy is the contrast with buck. overcompensating for an inherent lack of self-worth is so buck. being unlovable and hard to love is so buck. that's buck with his neglegtful parents and his abandonment issues and his coma dream where he's only valuable to the story as long as he's useful to the others. that's buck's story we've been watching for eight years. i see tommy as something else, a creature who made home in the safety of not trying that he became a self fulfilling prophecy. what if a boy had to survive situations he couldn't survive as himself and in hiding became a coward? what if that boy who became a man wants to love and care and feels the chance right in his reach, but is too scared to love back in all the ways that unveil more of him than he can bear? anyway i love tommy

[deadrobinthoughts]

†  patience with a fragile heart : tim.

⋆˙⟡ "You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known - and even that is an understatement"

⋆˙⟡ request: this is not one. ↦ kalico note: my return will be slow. i am doing my best. do not rush or push me, please. this is not a full return.. this is simply a vent; a projection. ( there's a shit ton of mistakes in this. it's 2am. i'm not beta'ing it. ) my ability to transition time when you aren't moving, like passing time in the moment, is trash.

4:15 am

that's what the stove read as you passed the kitchen, arms crossed. the apartment was quiet, a common thing, but it was quiet in a way that only came at such hours - like time itself was suspended. it was the type of quiet that made you aware of the refrigerator's hum, the clocks tick - even that annoying, barely there shake of the ceiling fan.

stopping at the edge of the living room, you found him. you hadn't been searching, not really, you knew exactly where he was going to be. he didn't hide; he didn't go and find some secluded place. he stayed close.

you found him sitting on the floor, back against the couch and body slouched forward. his knees were drawn up, elbows pressing into them with his hands buried in his hair, fingers flexing at the roots.

his hair had grown out, unkempt, but somehow it fit everything about him. it hung past his jaw, curling just slightly, like it was trying to hide all of his sharp edges. the streetlight spilling through the window had other ideas, however - amber light settling over him just enough to show the dark circles and pale complexion.

you didn't have to ask why he was there. the way he subconsciously tried to make himself smaller told you everything you needed to know. for a moment, you simply looked over him, debating if he'd even accept company.

he didn't look up when you padded over, toes barely brushing the transition strip. he didn't even shift, didn't flinch. but you were aware that he knew, because he always did - you could feel how the air just barely shifted; soft and pointed, like a blade hidden beneath velvet. not much happened around him without his knowledge.

your thoughts still tumbled the idea around, whether you should join him or not. there was something that simply suited tim about the stillness, the darkness that wrapped around the room, it felt as though motion or something too loud would break him. silence had always been safer to him.

you waited for him to tell you to leave and it never came. so, you moved closer. one careful step at a time, giving him the time to stop you. time to tell you he didn't want the company - he'd never been shy when it came to telling people to leave him alone.

when he accepted your presence, you used the couch to brace yourself before sinking down, kneeling beside him. still no protest - it was almost concerning. you could hear the uneven breaths coming from him, something that told you he was somewhere far away in his thoughts.

it was hesitant but you reached for him, fingertips brushing his wrists as if he were glass before gripping them, thumbs pressing softly at his pulse. you coaxed his hands away from his hair, watching as they slowly uncurled and he let them move, falling with your guidance to rest at his sides. he was rarely so pliant.

he didn't complain about the movements.

he didn't complain when you shifted away.

didn't even sigh when you lowered yourself onto his lap, leaning back slightly against his bent legs.

you settled with the precision of someone who knew him; his edges, his reflexes, the way he flinched when touched too suddenly even if he didn't want to. you looked over him, hands smoothing over his collarbones to his shoulders and around, chest pressing to his own. it felt like you were attempting to hold something together - something fragile, something sacred. like someone who was holding themselves together by sheer will alone.

still, he didn't move. not right away. he was contemplating, thinking.

it felt like forever before he let out a breath, one he hadn't realized he was holding but it was a real one. shaky, like it had come out against his wishes; like your closeness knocked something loose. you felt it shudder through him; the barely noticeable shift of weight, the way his head tipped forward until his brow found your shoulder.

not collapsed nor broken - he was letting go.

tim drake never let go. he didn't have the luxury. but, he was giving you something.

uncertain, his hands brushed against your frame, fingers curling away at first. one at your waist, the other at the small of your back, tentative, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch you at all. it was like he was processing the moment, wondering if he'd hit the brink of exhaustion that had him hallucinating. his lips parted to ask, to confirm, before they shut, swallowing the pathetic question.

if it turned out you were never there, then he'd never have to explain.

however, as your fingers found his hair, he couldn't help but settle in the fact you were, in fact, real. they slid through, gingerly pushing through slight tangles; it was messy, overgrown. it made him look younger, human, like the boy he was never allowed to be. it breathed life into the person behind a name. your actions spoke words you refused to, not because you didn't want to, but because tim liked the silence; he liked not having to fill space with unnecessary chatter. they said i see you, it's okay, in a language he only accepted behind closed doors.

in that moment, on the floor, wrapped in each other while the world slept, you felt him finally start to unravel.

it was never with words. it was how he leaned closer, pressing his face fully into your shoulder as his hand flattened to your lover back, accepting that your presence was real. the warmth of your body against his own, the way you touched him with such reverence, like he deserved even a second of your spare time.

finally, he relaxed. not fully, but enough.

you didn't bother to ask what was bothering him. when he was ready to be seen and heard and let his thoughts out, he would speak on his own. without an invitation. you knew the moment would come eventually and that was enough.

your eyes closed and you took a deep breath, letting it out slow as one of your arms settled to rest over his shoulder, the other still bent, fingers tracing at the back of his neck. you tried not to move too much, tried not to adjust despite the discomfort that came with the position. you dealt with it.

you weren't sure how long you stayed there, pressed against him with his arms loose around you like he hadn’t realized he was holding you yet. your head tilted, pressing your cheek against his temple, focused solely on the way it felt to have him breathe against you, each rise and fall reminding you that he was still there. each touch and caress was gentle, speaking through actions; you don't have to talk.

the world beyond the windows whispered, distant and quiet. as the sun slept on your side of the world, it was just you and him. breathing. existing. holding on to whatever time you could that wasn't life threatening.

that couldn't last forever, though.

it started slow, hesitant even, he was moving. not away, you weren't sure he was even capable of that just yet.

no, he only lifted his head from the spot on your shoulder, the effort behind it visible, like it hurt emotionally to part. he didn't go far, head tipping to brush his nose to yours. barely there. a touch that felt like it was begging you not to move, not to disappear. he was close enough for his breath to mingle with your own. there was something so fragile in the way it came out, uneven, like he still was grasping for some type of logical thought and couldn't find any.

for the first time since joining him, he spoke, barely registering:

"…i.. didn’t mean to stay up this long."

you could hear what he wasn’t saying. that he hadn’t meant to sit here at all. that he’d stopped only for a moment, maybe to think, maybe to breathe, and just never managed to stand back up. he wasn't confessing because he wanted forgiveness, no, but because he was being honest in a way he rarely was.

so you tipped your head back enough to look at him, reading more into what he hadn't said. his bangs were hanging in his eyes, dark circles blooming beneath them. his lips - dry, slightly cracked, and clearly chewed on - were parted, like there was something else he wanted to say and couldn't figure out how.

"i know."

he let out a breathy laugh, something ragged. maybe it was how you said, how blunt it was - maybe how soft it was, like you were admitting to seeing the things he didn't want others to. you had found a way of saying i'm here without actually saying it. it broken something deep in him that he wasn't ready to acknowledge.

"you always do." he mumbled, bumping his nose to yours once more and bringing a hand up to brush over your cheek before settling at the side of your neck, thumb soothing over the end of your jaw.

"who else is going to?" you mused and the way you smiled - only briefly, something he wouldn't have noticed if he'd been further away - made something inside him ache.

his gaze shifted as you leaned into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of a calloused palm and fingertips, like it was the only place in the world you wanted to be. he didn't even have time to think. no time to shrink and disappear back into his thoughts. he swallowed any reply he was forming and tilted his head just enough to kiss you.

careful.

so careful that it didn't really have the right to be called a kiss at all. his lips touched yours like he was asking a question - seeking permission. like he was unsure if he was even allowed to want this, but he did anyway. a trembling, aching attempt at telling you something. confessing. breaking.

and you kissed him back.

just as careful, just as soft, and excruciatingly slow. like you had forever. like time had stopped just to give you this.

the kiss lingered. the weight of it settling in both of your chests, wrapping you in a warmth you couldn't put a name to, engraving itself in your memories. it wouldn't be something that slipped away so easily, not any time soon.

tim ignored the urge to deepen it, to chase you. he stayed close, lips ghosting over yours, eyes closed like he couldn't quite believe he'd done it. he didn't move in case it happened to not be real. he was taking his time, breathing you in, letting the faint taste linger on his senses.

you stayed with him, still and relishing, forehead resting against his. you allowed the warmth to speak for you, louder than any words you'd be able to conjure up. the thumb that rested against your jaw offered a light tap, followed by a hum in the back of his throat. thoughtless, like he was simply memorizing you before his mind could catch up.

reluctantly, you lifted your head, pressing your lips to his forehead as you cradled the back of his head, guiding him along as you pressed a second and third under each eye.

i'm so proud of you.

i've got you.

you're not alone.

i'm not going anywhere, okay?

the breath he took in hitched, like he understood each and every word behind the soft presses to his skin.

after a few seconds, you finally pulled away and let your hands slide free of him. one pressed carefully to his chest and you shifted up on your knees, preparing to lift yourself up completely despite the sense of loss it caused.

"come to bed..? you need rest." you mumbled, offering, but never pushing.

your head tilted and you began getting up, only to be caught by the waist and held in place. your brows twitched, not wanting him to see the way you wanted to furrow them at the sudden pause.

"wait, i-" he blinked up at you, voice catching, like everything had become to fast for him to register. his eyes were wider, only slightly, fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt. "can we.. we stay? just for a little bit."

you stared at him for a second, soft but shocked, because tim didn't ask for things. there was no fear or firmness behind his words. just vulnerability. a request from someone who lived in silence, who knew better than to ask for things. someone who hadn't let himself trust or be held in far too long.

you couldn't help but wonder what kind of person could look at him and say no. so you lowered yourself once more, content to rest against the warmth he offered. you weren't against the request, simply surprised.

he was oblivious, for once, tucking his head beneath your chin. his arms slid around you fully, no longer resisting the voice that taunted him at the back of his thoughts. the voice that told him this wasn't for him; that he wasn't worthy of this. his arms tightened, like you were the only thing anchoring him to reality, the only thing he had to silence that voice, even if for a few minutes.

back into the quiet, neither of you spoke. there was no need to. in this rare, private moment carved out of your hectic lives, you were just you. and he was just time. not robin, not red robin. he didn't need to be logical or figuring something out.

he could breathe and be the person who finally felt safe enough to ask. to be held and hold on for just a little longer.

your lips found the crown of his head, placing another kiss there and sighing. you weren't in a hurry. if it's what he needed, you'd stay forever.

forever felt right, especially as "a little bit" turned into a blur. the minutes stretched on until you were again lost on the time - it was an easy slip when you were focused more on him than anything else. neither of you moved, barely budged. his breathing had become steadier. slower. he wasn't asleep, but he was close.

you could feel the way his fingers occasionally shifted against your back, just enough to check if you were still there. like he was preparing for you to not be there at one point. like he was waiting for you to simply vanish and leave him to deal with everyone on his own, like he always had.

you'd nudge against his head each time, a careful reminder; he would seek and you would respond. despite the harsh ache in your knees and the carpet digging into your skin, you stayed because none of that mattered. only him; his relaxed weight against you, the brush of his breathing against your skin.

your thoughts were becoming hazy, senses dulling as you found yourself not able to fully stay awake. it was far too late - too early? - and you wanted nothing but to sleep, but you wouldn't leave him behind.

his voice broke the spell of dozing, causing your features to scrunch:

"haven't let it get this bad in a while."

the words too a moment to sit for you, only thinking them over for a second before realizing what he meant. he wasn't actually telling you, it was simply a slip - unfiltered, getting it out of his thoughts. a vent, of sorts.

you decided not to answer, just bringing a hand up to tuck back into the shaggy mess of hair and began running your nails along his scalp. the first drag earned a sharp inhale, one that he let out slow, hold tightening for a split second.

"it's been.. too long," he finally added, mumbling, slurring the tiniest bit. “didn't even notice the hair thing until this morning.” a faint, bitter laugh followed. "there's too much to focus on.. missions. intel. gotham. here. everyone has been on my case about eating. it's not like i'm doing it on purpose."

“i noticed,” was your only response. "but, i know you'll come back around in your own time."

he moved his head, just enough to nudge your shoulder in a silent thank you before falling quiet again, but only for a moment.

"…i missed you."

had you not been so close, had you not been listening, you'd have never heard him. his voice so small, like he was worried about how you would react.

it felt like the world stopped, along with your heart. not because it was hard to believe or you thought it was empty, but simply because tim never said those things. not out loud. not unless he genuinely thought something was going to go wrong. you'd only heard it once and he thought you were sleeping when he muttered the words.

you curled your hold on him slightly, more or less cradling him to you. it was your turn to hold him like he was going to disappear.

"hey, i'm right here.." you murmured. "i never left, and i don't plan on it."

you nearly crumbled at the way he leaned into you, like he was holding onto every syllable and believing them. it made your stomach twist and your fingers grip just a bit tighter. you didn't know when another moment like this would come and you were holding onto it.

your eyes squeezed shut as he nudged into you, his breath finding your neck, steadier but still shaky. for once, he was letting himself sink, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders, melting into you like the world around didn't even exist.

his fingers dipped under the hem of your shirt, cool hands seeking warmth at your sides, barely even moving beneath the material. he ignored the way you shuddered, instinctively trying to move away from the cold at first before just settling again. you dropped your head to his shoulder, muttering something incoherent - he wasn't listening.

you shifted, attempting to relieve that dull ache in your back and hips, trying not to show the discomfort. you stayed regardless. even when he tilted his head to peek at you in silent question. you couldn't move.

not because it was comfortable - obviously - but because it was safe. it was healing and you weren't going to take that away from someone. it didn't have to be a breakdown or a long speech, healing could be one person enduring anything just for another to feel safe. and that was just a side effect you'd deal with. he was unraveling, coming down from a spiral - your body could hate you later.

time had slipped from you before you noticed how still everything felt. the amber light behind you began to flicker - one, twice, three times - before fading out with that little click of vanishing electricity. the streetlight was replaced by the soft, creeping streaks of smokey gray, signaling that morning was rolling in.

you sighed out the first breath of a new day and nuzzled against his hair, placing a handful of little kisses where you could.

"you really need to get some sleep," you whispered, again not wanting to push, but you could feel the exhaustion tugging at the back of your mind. you wouldn't leave without him, even if it meant sleeping on the living room floor.

his answer was a hum as he tucked closer. he seemed to be perfectly fine sleeping on the rug and it made you want to laugh, tired and a little strained. he'd found peace in one of the only people he trusted and he didn't want to do anything to lose that.

your gaze settled on the couch, hand smoothing over his hair in weak, lethargic movements. you watched as the room got a little brighter as dawn spilled into the apartment, painting everything in that early morning glow you hated to see. you'd seen in several times, staying awake well into the next day to finish paper work, finish a mission, finishing.. something, anything.

it made you nauseous but it was worth it. for him, you decided. you let your love speak into the silence, resting against him until you couldn't any longer. you could feel how the night had worn him out, grateful you'd found him before he slipped under completely.

attempting to peek at him, he was drifting right at the edge of sleep and it made your heart clench, seeing how peaceful he looked. the usual crease between his brow was gone, lips parted, lashes fluttering here and there.

with a sigh, your fingers moved to gently massage the back of his neck, easing him into reality before you started to speak. "let's go to bed," you muttered, slow and reluctant in the way you began pulling back, "just for a little while. please?"

you felt his fingers twitch and he didn't respond right away, only giving a small nod when he did. that was all you needed to start getting up. your own body felt heavy, the world tilting the higher you got, hands guiding him as you did. he followed, both of you nearly toppling over on the couch due to your own feet.

he let out something close to a laugh as he caught your hands, dazed and drowning in exhaustion. you squeezed his hands as a silent thanks and looked at him, being met with half lidded eyes and the ghost of a smile.

shaking your head, you began leading him towards the bedroom, slow so neither of you ended up on the floor. he was barely awake, shuffling along with you, never letting your hand go. you made a mental note to coo over it later when he was awake enough to tell you to shut up for teasing him.

it took several minutes to reach the room, shutting the door behind him, and gently nudging him towards the bed. you wasted no time in falling onto it, tugging him along with you.

he didn't resist, didn't speak, just sank into the mattress with a groan in the back of his throat. it was a mess trying to get you both under the blanket, guiding his limbs like he was something holy and needed to be treated with utmost care, because he couldn't seem to do it himself.

"tim, please-" you mumbled, the words carrying no weight at all. it was almost like he simply didn't know how to move without the help. you couldn't blame him - he was nearly lost to sleep the moment he touched the bed.

once you were both successfully under the blanket, he reached for you. silently asking, eyes barely open. you chuckled weakly, not even sure if the sound actually left you, and curled around him. one hand slid into his hair to cradle him beneath your chin, the other stretched out straight as you settled on your side.

he sighed, arms loose around your waist.

you could see the first golden light at the bottom of your curtains and tightened your hold, head tipping to press a kiss against the top of his.

"get some rest," you whispered, thumb moving against his hair, just watching as the light moved against the floor, trapped behind the hanging fabric. you couldn't bring yourself to sleep until you knew he was out - you had to make sure he wasn't fighting himself.

you felt it when he let out the last breath of being awake, body going lax, the hold on you loosening even further. his breathing was finally steady, calm and comfortable.

smiling to yourself, your eyes slid closed, content to know that he was finally letting himself sleep.

and for the first time in a very, very long time, he knew he wouldn't wake up alone.

[littlest-w01f]

Hello, how are you? I have a Rafayel fic idea

have you seen the audio of "What will the high priest think when he finds one of the gods like this with me?" "Uhh, lucky God?"

Could you maybe write something like that with god of tides?

a/n: I'm good anon :) I hear you and I searched up the audio and imagine my surprise that there was already a cosplayer who did Rafayel to the audio 💀

Lucky God?

Rafayel x Reader

RAFAYEL MASTERLIST

LADS MASTERLIST

Summary: You were supposed to be with the rest of the priestesses, preparing for the dinner. Not be nearly caught with the God you worship.

Cw: F!fingering, oral F! receiving, God of Tides, Smut 18+ MNDI

You were kissing God, the thought should've made you laugh at it's absurdity instead it felt completely normal, sitting on top of Rafayel, you cupped his face, kissing his soft pink lips. His arms, covered in blue and gold marks, and black nails, were wrapped around your soft thighs.

As you sat atop Rafayel, you marvelled at how natural it felt to kiss him - the God you worshipped from afar now beneath you, his ethereal essence mingling with yours in each tender press of your lips. His hands gripped her thighs, the blunt nails leaving faint impressions on your smooth skin as he pulled you closer, desire burning in those otherworldly eyes, partly pink, partly blue, fully widened in desire.

The air was heavy with the scent of incense and something uniquely Rafayel, a heady mix that made your head spin. You broke the kiss to trail your tongue along his jawline, savouring the taste of his skin, scales rising from his neck before they went down. "Gods," You breathed, "You're so much more than I ever imagined."

Rafayel's grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers sinking into your flesh as he pulled you flush against him. The hard length of his arousal pressed insistently against your core, making you gasp at the sensation. "And you, my beloved devotee, are everything I never knew I desired," He murmured, his voice a low, husky purr that sent shivers down your spine.

"Is it weird to cry for God when one in under me?" You asked in a breathless giggle, pulling the fabric dropped across your own shoulders down, leaving your upper body covered in only a blouse, midsection exposed, breasts pulling together as you brought your arms closer, "Or is it the only time it makes sense?"

Rafayel's eyes roamed over your bared torso, drinking in the sight of your pert breasts straining against the thin material of your blouse. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned forward, nipping at the curve of your collarbone. "There's no wrong time to worship me, priestess," He purred, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. "In fact, I'd say this is the perfect moment... To show you just how devoted I am to you."

"A God worshipping his devotee? How poetic." You smiled down at him, kissing your skin as you wrapped your hands around his purple hair, fingers digging into his scalp to hold him close. "Should I tell you I am not the best priestess you could fine here, I started like a month ago..."

"My novice priestess, why do you think that is? Who got you here?" He captured your nipple between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. Your back arched, a sharp intake of breath escaping you as pleasure shot straight to your core. "Mmm, you taste even sweeter than your prayers, sweeter than I imagined." He murmured, lavishing attention on your sensitive peak.

One hand slid up your thigh, fingertips bunching up your long skirts to rest at your hips, teasing the damp heat gathering between your thighs. "Tell me, priestess, what kind of worship would please you most right now?"

Rafayel's fingers brushed against your soaked lace, the thin fabric already clinging to your arousal. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your breast as he nuzzled into the valley between them. "You're dripping for me, aren't you? So eager to receive your God's blessing."

He hooked a finger under the fabric, slowly drawing it down your legs until they pooled around your ankles. Cool air hit your bare cunt, making you shiver. Rafayel's gaze locked onto your exposed flesh, pupils dilating with hunger. "Beautiful," he breathed, reaching out to trace a fingertip along your slick folds.

Your hands tangled in his hair, keeping him to your breasts as your hips rocked against his hand, seeking more friction. "Please, Rafayel," You whimpered, "I need... More. Fill me up, make me yours."

The God of Tides circled your entrance once, twice, before pressing inside, groaning at the warmth that greeted him. Rafayel's touch sent jolts of electricity through your body, your clit throbbing in anticipation. "So wet, all for me," He purred, pumping his finger deeper, curling it to stroke that sensitive spot within.

Rafayel's thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles that made your toes curl and your back bow. He added another finger, scissoring them to stretch you open, his gaze locked on the erotic display of your body surrendering to his touch. "Look at you, taking your God's fingers so willingly," He praised, pumping his fingers in and out, coating them in your desire. "Such a good little priestess, getting ready to receive my cock."

"You're ready for me, aren't you, priestess?" Rafayel withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to taste your essence. "Mmm, such divine nectar. I could feast on you forever." He claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as he thrust his fingers back into you, pumping steadily.

Withdrawing his fingers, Rafayel aligned his glistening cock with your entrance, rubbing the broad tip against your slick folds. He looked up at you, his eyes smouldering with lust and adoration. "Let me give you what you crave, my love," He whispered, pushing inward, stretching you deliciously wide around his thick shaft.

You groaned for him, slamming down onto his cock, impaling yourself on every hard inch. "Yes! Oh gods, yes!" You wailed, hands scrabbling at his shoulders as he filled you completely.

Rafayel's hips bucked upward, burying himself to the hilt inside your welcoming heat. "Perfect," He grunted, savouring the tight squeeze of your walls around him.

Once fully sheathed, Rafayel paused, savouring the tight, welcoming heat of your cunt enveloping him. Then he began to move, setting a steady rhythm that had you meeting his thrusts eagerly. "You feel incredible, priestess," He groaned, hips snapping faster as he drove into you with increasing urgency. "Like you were made for me, to take me deep inside you."

He began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace that had you seeing stars. Each powerful thrust hit that magic spot deep within, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. "Rafayel!" You screamed, nails digging into him as ecstasy built, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly.

Rafayel's thrusts grew harder, more insistent, pounding up into you with primal intensity. The bed creaked beneath him, and the headboard thudded against the wall with each forceful drive of your hips back. You pinned him beneath your body, hands holding his down as you rode him with wild abandon.

Rafayel's groaning, guided your movements as you rode him with reckless passion. His scales scraped against your inner thighs, the contrast of smooth and rough adding to the intense sensations overwhelming your senses. "Harder, priestess!" He commanded, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take what's yours!"

As if spurred on by his words, you slammed down onto him with renewed vigour, your cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning cock. Rafayel's eyes rolled back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as he lost himself in the exquisite torture of your tight, wet heat.

Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave brought forward by the God himself, your inner muscles spasming wildly around Rafayel's throbbing cock as euphoria washed through you. "Rafayel!" You screamed, convulsing in his arms as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling and spent.

But the God of Tides was far from finished. With a roar of triumph, he surged upwards, driving deep into your quivering depths as his own release erupted. Thick ropes of his seed pumped into you, filling you to overflowing as he emptied himself inside his devoted priestess. "Mine!" He growled, marking you as his own as his hot cum coated your womb.

Collapsing back onto the bed, Rafayel wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace as you both caught your breath. "That was... Indescribable. But I am far from done."

As Rafayel's seed continued to pulse into your still-clenching cunt, you felt a new surge of arousal building within you. It seemed impossible, yet your body responded to the God's possession with an insatiable hunger. "Already again?" You gasped, looking up at him with glazed, lust-filled eyes. "How can you possibly have more to give?"

Rafayel chuckled low in his chest, the vibrations sending pleasant tremors through your sensitive skin. "You'd be surprised what a deity can do when properly worshipped, especially by a priestess as beautiful as you," He teased, rolling you onto your back and settling between your spread thighs. "And I intend to show you just how thoroughly your God wishes to serve you back."

He pulled you from his lap, bringing you to his chest, pulling you further. Without a word you straddled Rafayel's face, sinking down onto his waiting mouth. His tongue delved into your dripping slit, lapping up your juices as he began to eat you out with gusto, taking in both his and your release. You ground against his face, riding his tongue as he devoured your cunt. His nose pressed against your clit, the slight press providing delightful friction against your sensitive nub.

You threw your head back, crying out in bliss as he devoured you, your fingers tangling in his hair to hold him close. "Oh gods, yes! Just like that!" You moaned, grinding against his face as waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more.

His mouth descended upon you, lapping at your essence with unrestrained hunger. Rafayel's tongue delved deep, fucking your channel with slow, deliberate strokes while his nose nestled into your clit, inhaling your musky aroma.

"Mmm, you smell divine," He rumbled, his warm breath fanning over your sensitive flesh as he parted your lips with his tongue. "Taste even better."

Rafayel's skilled tongue worked its magic, coaxing your pleasure higher with each lap and suckle. Your hips undulated, riding his face as he feasted on your dripping cunt. The God's nostrils flared, drinking in your intoxicating scent, his cock twitching with renewed interest despite having only recently climaxed.

As your climax neared, Rafayel redoubled his efforts, his mouth a blur of motion as he ate you out with single-minded devotion. His tongue plunged deep, stroking your inner walls, while his nose rubbed insistently against your throbbing clit. The combination proved too much, and you came undone with a scream, your cunt clamping down on his probing tongue as ecstasy overwhelmed you.

"Y/N! Priestess?" The sharp voice of the High Priest rang through the silence of the halls, he was looking for you.

"Shit..." You froze above him, prying yourself free from his mouth still on your cunt, trying to force another orgasm from you, you had lost count and were sure your legs were cramped, "What will the High Priest think when he finds one of the gods like this with me?"

"Uhh, lucky God?" Rafayel smiled from under your legs, his lips, cheeks and chin covered in your release, eyes fully blown.

"RAFAYEL!" Unceremoniously you threw the God off your bed, forcing him to land on the floor beside it with a thud, you threw your covers on him, pulling your skirts down and re-lacing your blouse, not appearing put together in any way.

The High Priest stood at the threshold, his piercing gaze sweeping over the room. His stern expression faltered slightly as he took in the dishevelled state of the bed, the rumpled sheets and the scattered pillows. A faint scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

"Priestess y/n," he said, his voice firm but tinged with curiosity. "I received a report that you were... Missing from the mess hall. Is everything well?"

You straightened your posture, attempting to project an air of innocence despite the flush colouring your cheeks. You met the High Priest's stare head-on, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Yes, High Priest," You replied, your voice steady. "I was merely resting after a long day. These old floors can be quite cold."

The High Priest raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. He stepped further into the room, his footwear clicking against the stone floor. His gaze lingered on the tangled bedding before returning to you.

"I see," he said slowly. "And might I inquire who else was occupying your chambers during this... Restful interlude?" His tone carried a subtle edge, hinting at the unspoken implications behind his question.

As he spoke, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Rafayel, still hidden beneath the covers, held his breath, waiting to see how you would respond to the High Priest's probing inquiry.

"Just me..." You nodded, lying through your teeth easily. "And I did work extra hard today so I thought I earned some rest."

The High Priest studied you intently, his eyes narrowing as he searched for any sign of deception. After a moment, he seemed to accept your explanation, though a hint of disappointment flickered across his face.

"Very well then," He said, turning to leave. "If you're certain you don't require anything, I shall take my leave. Remember, Priestess y/n, your duties await you in the temple come morning."

With that, he exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. As soon as he was gone, Rafayel emerged from beneath the covers, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Rafayel stretched languidly, his muscles rippling beneath his skin. "I must say, I'm rather impressed. Keeping secrets from the High Priest is no easy feat, especially when he's investigating suspicious activities in the temple."

"Well, that was close!" he exclaimed, brushing off his clothes. "Highly entertaining, though. You should consider a career in diplomacy – or perhaps a life of crime, given your knack for talking your way out of sticky situations."

"My, my, is my God suggesting I take a life of crime over a life fully devoted to him?" You gave him a teasing grin as he dressed fully, looking fully unlike what they had been doing. "And this is nothing. You should see what more I've gotten out of just my talking."

Rafayel chuckled, shaking his head as he tied his belt around his waist to hold the fabrics that went over his shoulders. "No, no, nothing like that. Though I suppose there could be... Interesting possibilities exploring that path together, if you're in for a bit of mischief." He winked playfully, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"However, I meant it more as a jest. Your dedication to me is admirable, truly. Although you are nothing less than a Goddess yourself." Rafayel approached you, his movements fluid and graceful. He reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek in a tender caress. "Your beauty shines brighter than any divine radiance," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire.

"Should you be saying that?" You asked, tilting your head curiously, "After all, I am no Goddess."

Rafayel's hand trailed down to cup your chin, his thumb stroking your lower lip. "Oh, but you are," he insisted, his gaze burning with intensity. "In every way that matters. Your spirit, your passion, the qualities of a true deity."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "And as your God, it is my duty to worship and adore you, to make you feel like the Goddess you are."

With that, Rafayel captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. His hands roamed your curves, mapping every inch of your body as if committing it to memory. "Now I should leave before I set you in trouble huh?" It took him all his strength to pull away from you

He helped you gather your belongings, properly redress, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed you your cloak. "But know that you can always find solace here, among the Gods. And I, for one, look forward to our next encounter."

As you slipped back into the covers, you couldn't shake the feeling of excitement and anticipation building within you. The thrill of secrecy, the forbidden nature of your trysts with the God - it only served to heighten the passion that burned between you.

[sglossmin]

Muse | MYG

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You're here for an appointment for therapy and he's your psychologist.

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader ---> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?)

Warnings: talks about mental and death...erm lemme know if you found any disturbing heh

Word count: dunno

A/N: This is...actually some sort of based irl looll (only the high school scenes, most of it) This is my first one shot work! Let me know if I'm lacking something. The current series that I'm still working rn is still not even half finished T_T T_T So I thought I might give it a try---write a oneshot heh I just started here to write in tumblr so I still don't know that much stuff. Feel free to comment so I can improve!! Ik some of those thing weren't even a thing at that time...

"Shit..." I muttered right as I saw the man in a white coat, a clipboard in his arms while his hair softly falls down in his brows, reading his next patient's data. Just like the last time I saw him. Weird, huh? It's been years, yet... he still looks just the same.

Our eyes met, for the first time in a while. He frowned, it was so subtle and fast, no one would even know. But I did. Every little actions that he did, I always notice it. No matter what. I keep saying that the Y/n who just hit her puberty is no longer me, yet with my emotions right now, I can feel like my hormones are all over the place.

"Sit down," he smiled, gesturing the seat across him.

His voice so deep it sounds like soothing lullaby... Eyes so tired that I can tell he works so well... The warmth in his smile makes my heart skip a beat, forgetting why am I here in the first place...

Snap of it!

It took me a second to realize that I stared at him for too long. I cleared my throat wishing my embarrassment would also go away. I smiled as I took the seat.

Our session ended without him saying that he at least recognize me. Did it made me upset? Yeah... sort of. I mean, I didn't go there and paid him to reminisce our high school days, but still...

I huffed as I crumpled a paper.

"Ugh! Really? Y/n? Still drawing him?"

I uncrumpled it and stared at the newly drawing for a while. I leaned back in my chair and sighed... "I'll give it to him. He looks hot in that coat." I chuckled and stuck the paper back in my notebook. "I'm keeping it because I drew him too good, not that I still like him or anything. That would be just so stupid."

Ha! Right! Nothing else. I smiled, pleased with how I gaslight myself.

I stretched my back and arms. My body ached for having a shrimp position for a long time.

And before I know it, I fell asleep (again) in my studio.

Summer 2010

Our last subject just finished and it's still raining heavily. I have no umbrella so my friends and I were forced to run. Reaching the covered court, I groaned. "Why call it summer when it rains this heavily??"

"Do they really think, us, high school students are waterproof?" Exclaimed by Sana while Chaeyoung just chuckled beside us. Our clothes were pretty wet but not that drenched.

We went upstage since there's some chair in there. Putting our bags down, we wait for the rain to stop. Us juniors only have to spend half day in the campus. Lucky, huh?

"Stay here, hm? You both can't leave me just because you guys have umbrella to share and your house are close." I glared at the both of them while they just snickered. They won't leave me otherwise, I know that.

It's been an hour, yet the rain don't seem to plan on stopping. It's about 1 now, we think. Seems like we're the only junior students in the campus. Suddenly, the seniors from the front building went outside. They went in the cover court. They were wearing some sort of costumes. It was ridiculous. Okay, not really. They seemed like they're going to dance.

We sat still from above across them and watch them prepare.

"Hey, Chae, wanna play?" I grinned as I whispered. Sana was too occupied with her phone that's why it was just the two of us who played.

We played Smash or Pass with every senior guy that I pointed. Until finally, I pointed it to the guy who's wearing Thai hat(?) The gold ones, it seems like part of their costume.

"Hm... Smash!" Chaeyoung laughed and I did too. Cause miraculously, SAME.

We had a great laugh realizing we'd say smash.

We watched them dance and sing along with music that were playing. Thinking about it, we might actually look like idiot. They can practically see us sing and dance with them since we're upstage.

After a while, I asked Chae, "What nickname should we give him?" It's our thing. Giving nicknames to people whether they look good or annoying. I think it's every friend groups should do.

"He looks like a cat and his eyes disappear too when he smiles... Kitty?"

"Kitty...?" Sounds weird so I proposed to change it. "What about Neko? Same meaning but doesn't sound weird." She agreed and since then, we called him Neko. With his sharp eyes and pale tone, he does looks like a kitty.

Few moments after, we planned a scheme. We went down to compare our height to his. We walked towards him as if we were just passing by and about to go to the canteen instead.

My and Chae's eyes went wide open. Gasping and staring at each other, the signal were sent.

Gosh, he's tall.

Oh gosh, he is.

A day or two passed since that. We randomly saw him when we went to buy in the canteen.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

Untill a few days have been passed and I keep on seeing him. To the point that... maybe... just maybe, it wasn't really a coincidence anymore.

New character unlocked?

When we were about to go back in our room, we met Hani. My bestfriend in elementary days.

"Y/n! Come here! Imma show you something. Actually...no... It's a someone." Hani dragged me and Chae went along with me.

Hani rant about how this guy looks so good, that in the first time in a while, they found someone who actually looks good in this campus.

Chae and I eyed eachother. Were we thinking who we're thinking?

As we reached the third floor of the first year's building, across it was the senior's building. We stopped our track right in front of the exact room. The window were open and from our spot, we can literally see him studying.

"Neko?"

"You know him?" Hani asked in which I nod.

I think we just found our sweet spot.

Chae and I sometimes went up there just to catch a glimpse of him. It was stupid and fun.

Until that day came.

As usual, Chae and I went to the third floor once again. We stayed in the balcony that faces their room. It was break time so everyone was all over the place. Then I felt it. Chae poked my side and pointed my front. I frowned and followed her finger. There was it, his teacher raising her brow at me. Then his classmates turned their heads toward me... 'till lastly he did. Everyone was looking at ME. I noticed Chae was hiding on the wall divider of the balcony. I looked back at the teacher who's still looking at me.

"Do you need anything, Ms?" We were quite far but it was still audible.

"H-huh..?" That was all I could muster. It was even barely a whisper. My mouth was slightly open due to not knowing what to do nor say. It lasted like that for a few more seconds. Until I muster all the courage and pride I have left in my body and shrugged it off and walked away. Frowning as if they got it wrong and I was simply hanging out there.

Walk

Walk

RUN

I went back to our room as soon as I noticed Chae was following me. When we get back, we were panting and sweating. Our classmates looked at us with weird looks. Not that I can blame them. One of our classmate asked us and we did tell the story.

It was our last time going in there.

I felt someone flick my head. I groaned in annoyance.

"Noona, wake up!"

I grumbled as I sit up straight, realizing I fell asleep in the studio again.

"You know you don't have to flick me. Between the two of us, I'm the light sleeper." I mumbled while my eyes were focusing on the big guy in front of me.

He rolled his eyes at me. Up to this day, I wondered who did he got it from. "Eomma wants you to eat lunch with us."

I chuckled. "Your mother did? Wow, what a pleasure." I sassed.

He groaned and plopped himself at the couch. "Can't believe you still resent her."

"Kook, what kind of a daughter am I if I don't?"

Jungkook threw a pillow to me as he stood up. "Still. Eat with us."

And just like that, he walked away.

Life goes on, that's what they say.

I must've been nuts for going to therapy yesterday. It's not like, I'm seriously depressed.

Right..?

Living alone in the house that came from the paycheck of my drawings must be really the best accomplishment I've had. Who would've thought the high achieving in academics girl would end up in this job. It was pure mystery.

I stared at my empty fridge. I smiled. The only thing that kept me sane nowadays is this...

"Looks like, I need to go... shopping."

I grinned ear to ear while I spent my fortune.

"Who needs therapy, when you can go and do your grocery."

I picked out the foods I knew I'd eat while I finish the new dramas. I was about to get the last stock of my fave gummies until someone practically snatched it. Fast.

"H-hey-" I cut off myself from shouting when I realized who it was.

It was him. In normal clothes. Am I dreaming? Impossible. He wouldn't have clothes in the first place if I am.

"Oh, Ms Jeon." He smiled.

Smiled?

He has the nerve to smile after taking that gummy?

But... then again, who need those gummy bears when his gummy smile is practically the sweetest.

He cleared his throat. "Seems like we'll be seeing each other more often."

Uh...what? Is he trying to say that I have a severe mental illness so we'll literally see each other more?? This fucker...

He probably noticed my frown as he chuckled and shook his head. "Uhm, that might've come off the wrong way. I meant, I just moved in in this neighborhood."

Sorry, what..?

I laughed my nervousness away. It's not like we'll be neighbors. This neighborhood is way too big for us to see each other.

Is that why it was my first time seeing him in this grocery store?

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood." I chuckled, probably awkwardly and excused myself.

Damn it. It could've been my chance for us to talk and stuff, but I refused. I mean, with my looks right now? No thanks.

I skipped my lunch and didn't go to our family's house. I plopped myself on my bed and took out my old sketchbook.

Staring at my old drawings of him, it sure did bring back of the memories.

2010

It's been a month yet we still don't know his name. We already did a lot of different shenanigans just to know it. He must be really like having a low profile. We found his classmate's account yet his are nowhere to be found. Maybe he doesn't go online...

I was staring at my computer, scrolling on whatever stuff pop up, then it hits me. Her sister. Hani's sister!

They're in the same year, so maybe, just maybe, she knows his name.

I quickly typed in to ask her. A girl from our year had a picture with him posted. I sent it to her.

"Hi eonni, can I ask u a question? Is there a chance that you know him?"

*Photo sent*

It took a while for her to respond.

"Uhm yeah, he's from our year"

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Min Yoongi"

"I think that's his name"

Min Yoongi... cute. It suits him.

Hours and hours later, I still couldn't find his account. Then as I was searching, there was this account, he was friends with Hani.

My eyes widen. "Min Suga? Could it be?"

I stalked the account and it was really him. Likes to keep a low profile? Bullshit. He has more than 5k followers!

Moreover...he really...looks good.

I wonder if his face reflects his personality.

I added him as a friend and waited for the request to be accepted. I told Chae that if he didn't accepted it within 24 hours, I'll delete my request. I still have pride you know. Don't want to be one of those girls in his inbox.

It hasn't even been an hour yet and I got the notification. He accepted it! I squealed and dance in my room.

This is what being a youth, right?

I clicked my tongue as I chuckled bitterly. "Youth is never coming back."

As I turn the pages more, my bell ringed. Jungkook never ring first, he just comes in whenever he wants to. I should really change the passcode. As for my mom, she never really bother coming here.

Expecting no one, I opened the door, only to gape at the man in front of me.

"You...like pies?"

Min Yoongi, in front of me, holding a pie, not just holding, but giving..?

"Uh...how close is your house exactly?" I didn't mean to sound rude, but rather genuinely curious.

He hesitatingly pointed the house across me.

The Kim's house?

"It was my friend's grandparents who lived there. He took them to take care of them and then he sold his house to me." Yoongi explained. His face going like this :]

"So you really did mean that we'll see each other more often..." I mumbled in which he caught. He laughed and gave me the pie.

"My mom kept on nagging me on giving pies. She really worked hard on it. Hope you like it!"

She's here?

I nodded and thanked him. He went back and I did too. The smell of the freshly baked peach mango pie really did things to my stomach.

For the first time, Min Yoongi gave me something.

Spring 2011

"Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I murmured while we wait in the senior's balcony. A few steps away from him, we waited. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him." I mumbled. "He didn't even read my text..." I mumbled. Chaeyoung was practically dragging me. "Look, he seems busy too."

Then for the meantime, we waited. We walked towards his classroom but he was nowhere. He just right there few seconds earlier.

"Stupid text."

A week ago...*

Should I really text him? The classes have been cancelled. I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to do it now. Should I make myself known? Or should I keep it anonymous? But I really wanna take a picture with him...

Ugh! My head hurts. Forget it, I'm just gonna do it.

"Hi uhm... So I just randomly draw one of my mutuals and it happened to be you.."

*Photo sent*

"Perhaps you like it?

"I was about to give you this at school tomorrow but they cancelled the classes so... Hope you like it<3

Was I too formal?

It took him hours to reply.

"Oh wow, what a nice piece!"

"Yes I like it, thanks!"

HE REPLIED!!! I muffled my squeal with my pillow as I look back at his text. It took me hours to see the message and reply too.

"Guess... I'll just give it to you when we bump into each other, maybe(?)"

"Ugh goshhh how am I going to give you this at schoolT^T"

"Just don't give it yet if you're still not ready^^"

End*

I went home feeling defeated. Not able to give him the drawing.

I stared at my bedroom's ceiling before deciding to go online.

2+messages

It was sent an hour ago. I quickly opened the message. He replied to my text earlier in the morning, I told him to meet up.

"Sorry, I just saw your text message"

"I don't have an internet at school, that's why"

"It's fine, so,I'll just give it to you tomorrow?"

"Okay, sure"

Saying it was fine when I was literally sulking in my room like a child. But that's when I haven't read his message.

Min Yoongi apologized to me.

I giggled like an idiot in my room as I stared at the text messages we shared.

The next day...

"AAHHHH! Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I whined, it wasn't just Chae and Sana was there for me, some of my classmates too. They were waiting for me, usual, we go home altogether. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him. This is really a stupid stupid idea!!" I ran around court in attempt to go home.

We're here, in front of the senior's building. Waiting...again.

One of my classmate proposed that they'll just call him to go down. Two of them went upstairs to his room.

Why does he always keeping me on waiting. Does he think he's some sort of a king?

I huffed and were literally losing all my shits. Till I heard them.

"He's here!!" They squealed. Too much of an opposite, I composed myself and cleared my throat. Thank God he's tall so when I'm looking forward all I can see is his chest. I gave it to him and our hands brushed. It was so quick and subtle, yet it already made my heart warm.

As practiced, Chaeyoung smoothly asked him if we can take a picture. I felt too stiff. This is too good to be true. Then I felt it, he leaned closer. Our arms touching, he smiled to the pic.

My heart was about get off my rib cage. My insides were going crazy, yet, thankfully, I look completely normal outside.

When I got home he texted me, thanking and saying that he appreciates it. A warm feeling spread across my whole body.

The next day, my classmates and I talked about the event yesterday. They were bitching about how Yoongi didn't even thanked me and just left. I laughed so hard when I heard that. Because he did. Yoongi did thanked me before leaving, it just happened that it was loud enough for only me to hear it. Now, it felt more special.

"Have you ever thought of the probable major reason for what you're feeling?"

Here we go again.

How can I focus on what's wrong with me, when you're right here? Worse, as my doctor.

3 more appointments with him. I paid for this, I should at least gain something.

"Maybe... because up to this day, I still blame myself for his death." My head hung low as I mumbled it.

Why do you always have to see my flaw, Min Yoongi?

This infatuation is slowly turning to hatred...

"You know it wasn't your fault."

I turned my head to him with a frown. So, he does remember me?

A tear fell from my cheek. I wiped it before he can even notice. I turned my hands into fist. 6 words. It was only 6 words yet he can already open my bare self.

"I-if I wasn't stubborn. He'd still be here. He followed me. You saw that. If only he didn't. He'd still be here."

I felt a lump in my throat. Those memories. It was too vivid as if it just happened yesterday.

Spring 2012

"I told you, I don't want to!"

Another day, another argument to have with my mother.

Why is she so pushy on making me go to states?

"It's for your own sake! Studying here at this campus will let you go nowhere."

"What? So eager to get rid of me?!" I yelled while we drive to campus.

"Jeon Y/n! Don't you dare shout at your mother." My father said sternly as he drives.

As we were near the campus, I lost it.

"Drop me off." 1.. 2.. 3... "I said, drop me off, dad." Keeping my voice low yet so stern it could cut apples.

My father stopped the car and I get out of it.

I was mindlessly crossing the road that I didn't notice a four wheeler truck coming at me.

Then I felt a pair of hands pushed me hard, and before I knew it, screams were heard. My mom's loud cries were ringing in my ears. Tears were coming out of me uncontrollably. Blood all over him. I crawled, oh so slowly and trembling. Before I could even reach him, my mom pushed me aside and called for help.

Minutes later, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I was just there. Staring at him. No words coming out.

It started raining. It was a light rain, yet even with those subtle touch, it made my whole body flinch and freeze.

Till I felt someone's embrace. Someone was covering me with their jacket. Who could possibly care for me if it wasn't my father.

Slowly, I turned my head towards the person.

Why it has to be you?

"Everything's gonna be okay. The ambulance is taking your father already."

He spoke in a soothing tone. Yet no matter how warm or soft his voice is, I can't somehow get out the ice cage I'm in.

"Do you think your father would want you to think that way? It's been years Y/n, what happened that you're back at this again?"

A/N: okay, I lied. Maybe this isn't gonna be a oneshot... maybe I'll have 2 parts? 3 maybe? I just cut this off here cause I think it was too long. So readers can have breaks hehe. Gonna post the next part tomorrow maybe...

[pyrographic-memory]

Holy shit, great to see the internet imploding once again lmao (srsly I'm also pouring one out for the discord mods holy fuck. I joined that server when it was at 17k people and THAT was already too many people for me...)

So uh. I know my * post * talking about us seeing Vessel prepare for war didn't blow up quite as much as my tritanopia post (still fucking stoked about that actually sosjehshjwh), BUT I am happily back again with the military jargon breakdown!

I'm going to say now, everything I mention here is declassified, you can find it with a Google search. Please don't freak out on me lmao

The Morse code from the Pan and Echo audio files was summed up into eight lines of dialogue (for lack of a better word).

At first I thought it was a 9 Line, which is a call for medevac report, due to the SOS. But it is missing a ninth line, so I asked a friend of mine what they thought. And they said it looks like a weird mix of two report formats: BLUE 2 and GREEN 6.

BLUE 2 is SITREP, or situation report - rather self explanatory. Brief summary of threat activity, then you list off how ready your men and your vehicles/equipment are, and then you give a summary of The Gameplan.

GREEN 6 is EPW (enemy prisoner of war)/Captured Material Report. You've executed The Gameplan, and you've captured people and stuff. This one is a two-parter technically, because you list off who you've captured first and then what you've captured (this can include land and buildings, so like if you captured a hilltop or castle or smth), you state the unit that did the capturing, when the capture happened, and a brief summary of how you did it.

So now, we break the message down. The first two lines don't really align with any report, so we'll focus on 3 onward.

Line 1: "I've been waiting long for you"

Line 2: "Behold"

Line 3 (friendly locations as from a BLUE 2): WA and RL, which ended up being WRAL, which is the news channel for Raleigh, NC (NORTH CAROLINA BABY, LET'S GOOO). Their meteorologist made a * post * about 3/29 on Instagram.

Line 4 (DTG [Date Time Group] of capture, as from the second half of a GREEN 6): "Two days in the morning", two days from now it'll be 3/29, AND there's a partial solar eclipse that day (though it's very close to full), and where the eclipse will be most prominent over the Atlantic, it'll be at maximum around 10:47 AM UTC. So the DTG would be written as 291047MAR2025.

Line 5 (place of capture, as from a GREEN 6): "In Arcadia"

Line 6 (circumstances of capture, as from a GREEN 6): "Carpe" (Latin for "seize")

Line 7: "Broadcast interruption, nothing"

Line 8: SOS SOS SOS KN AS

Everyone knows the mayday call. But KN and AS are CW radio signs (telegraphing, Morse code, all that shit they used in both world wars). KN means "only the station named should respond", and AS means "wait". The broadcast was interrupted, but the broadcaster didn't hear anything from the interruption. They're still calling for help because the interruption means someone is listening in when they shouldn't be, so the broadcaster may be compromised, and they're asking for an answer from whoever they were broadcasting to before saying "wait" (maybe as in "don't send rescue immediately").

Now, let's look at something else rq. The metadata of the audio files.

Uploaded by: The Observer

Another report to mention: BLUE 1, SPOTREP. These are written up when scouts observe any known or suspected threat activity in the AO (area of operation).

And I want to amend rq, the emails from a few weeks ago with the respective wording: House Veridian "observe", and Feathered Host "seize".

This is a House Veridian SPOTREP of a Feathered Host SITREP/capture broadcast, probably done by our Observer doing what the green bois call channel hopping, and the Broadcaster not securing their comms line.

I really want to know who Vessel knows. Cuz while ts is available to the public, you gotta know someone who can tell you that these report documents even exist. The US Army has like a thousand reporting documents, something for everything. Every country does a lot of this stuff differently and has differing names for it, but I just find it really neat that it seems to be US-based (unless the UK military also operates this way 👀👀👀)

[delulu4anime]

Maniac

Ch 15 ➧Please

Parings ➧ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ!ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴄʜᴜʙʙʏ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary ➧ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ɪᴛ ᴜɴᴀᴠᴏɪᴅᴀʙʟᴇ. ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴀʟʟ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

Trigger Warnings ➧ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ.

Word Count ➧2ᴋ+

Taglist ➧@lady-of-blossoms @dekusdante @fortunatelyfurrygiver @birbwithhat @whippedbyikemen @sleepykittyenergy @i-love-ateez @choppersworlds-blog @emochosoluvr @linaaeatsfamilies @sexys-archives @stxrlingpearl @swoozleee @lanii-i (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴍᴋ❣︎)

Your phone rang out in your room and you stirred awake; you could've sworn that you had turned off all your alarms the night before. With puffy eyes from lack of sleep and crying most of the night you picked up your phone and realized it was a phone call. Before you could see who was calling the phone call went to voicemail and that's when you noticed all the notifications that had come through after you had passed out from exhaustion. You texted Emi last night apologizing for not being able to return to the reception because your so called friend ended up having more trouble than you originally thought so they ended up spending the night. You knew Emi had a few drinks in her system when you told her about the mini emergency so she didn't pay much attention but you didn't miss the way Kento's eyes narrowed at you when you mentioned this friend in need.

To his knowledge you had a very small circle of friends and he knew every single one of them. On top of that the only people he knew you would ever drop everything for to help were standing right in front of you. You mentally thanked him for not questioning you about it and letting you just go. You also recall sending a brief text to Satoru telling him his presence wasn't needed at the cafe for the weekend even though you hoped he'd read between the lines and realize you meant in general as well. You noticed a few drunken text messages from Emi telling you she loved you and you were her best friend.

You had a few text including a video showing Kento beating a very intoxicated Emi at another dance battle. You chuckled to yourself knowing you could tease him about not winning fairly that round. Your smile faded with the amount of calls and texts from Satoru showed up. You realized he had just called you and against your better judgement you unlocked your phone as scrolled through the twenty or so text messages he had sent. Most the the texts begging for you to hear him out.

You went to your call log and noticed he had called you a handful of times including the one you had just missed. He left a voicemail this time and you hesitated but then brought the phone up to your ear to hear what he said,

"Baby please I've been trying to reach you all night. I don't know what else to do so I'm on the way over because I need to see you. I need to talk to you. Please don't shut me out." He softly said and you didn't miss the sniffles he tried to hide by moving the phone away from him. "I'll see you soon." And then the voicemail ended.

You locked your phone and rubbed your palms against your eyes. It would take him about fifteen minutes to get to your house and it took you almost that long to decide you weren't ready to see him. Soon you heard the doorbell ring out through your apartment along with a few loud knocks against your front door. You laid back down against your sheets and curled up into a ball as you phone lit up with Satoru's contact picture flashing on the screen. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to stop yourself from crying at the picture he took of you both.

You remember him stretching his long arm out to take a picture of you two on one of the picnics he had planned. You leaned against him and smiled and right before he took the picture he leaned down and nuzzled himself against your neck. His eyes were closed as he kissed your neck softly and smiled against your skin. After he took the picture he insisted that it would be his contact picture. You even caught a glimpse of his home screen noticing he had set the same picture as his background for everyone to see.

So everyone can see or does he flip his phone over when he's around anyone that might question why he's in a relationship with you. He's always so good at playing pretend. The voice nagged and you sobbed softly as you turned your phone over. The door bell ringing out through your apartment again and again. You weren't going to allow him to see you in this state; not ever again.

Suddenly the phone calls stopped as did the door bell ringing and before the calls or text could come through you turned your phone completely off. All you can remember before drifting back off to sleep was the way your breathing slowly steadied as the tears dried against your cheeks.

Your days off could be summed up like this:

Monday: Your phone stayed off the entire day as you cried and screamed into your pillow. You hardly left your bed that day.

Tuesday: Your phone stayed off the entire day as you stared at the wall trying to remember what you felt like before Satoru touched your skin. You got up a few times and spent an hour or two in the living room only to hide away once you saw something that reminded you of him.

Wednesday: You finally got out of bed only to cringe at your appearance. You tried playing your favorite playlist to help you relax only to sob in the shower at all the songs you remembered you both danced to. All the songs he caressed the parts of yourself you hated with a gentleness you'd never felt before. All the songs he made you fall in love with all over again. You turned your phone off again after that.

When Thursday rolled around you found the strength to get out of bed. You stared at your reflection in the mirror beside your closet and frowned at the fact you were letting him effect you the same way he had ten years before. The rage inside you coursing through your body knowing you can't blame anyone else but yourself in this situation. Your conscious begged and pleaded to fall back into his grasp only to be manipulated into seeing him as anything other than who he was in high school. Hina never changed so what made you think Satoru would?

They were made for one another. You got out of bed and walked into the living room as your eyes roamed your apartment that had turned into a depressive space. A wine bottle or two on your coffee table in the living room along with a wine glass you swore would be used but after pour had been abandoned. A pizza box on the counter that you had forgotten to put the left overs up in the fridge. Take out from various spots in town because you couldn't bring yourself to go to your favorite place after the amount of late nights you spent with Satoru eating there.

That was just the living room, you didn't even want to start on the way your bedroom looked like you let an animal move in. After hours of cleaning and getting your space back to feeling like home you lit a candle and stepped back to admire your work. You felt the pride well inside at being able to clean which had you in a better mood. You decided to go out and grab food from your favorite spot to show yourself that you were going to get through this. You grabbed your keys on the way out and took the flight of stairs down to where you car was parked a few spots away.

You welcomed the chilly air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin but knew sooner than later you'd be shivering if you didn't get in your car and turn the heat on full blast. Once you grabbed your food you decided to sit by the water like you did before you met Satoru as you tried to regain that memory instead of all the ones you made with him here. You had turned your phone back on and changed your screen saver to an affirmation about self love. You hummed along to a song from a new playlist you put together; you felt yourself finally feeling at peace as you watched the way the waves crashed against the shore. That peace was short lived when a phone call interrupted the song you had been listening to with the one person you didn't want to talk to.

You ripped the aux cord out of your phone and answered the call while you turned down the music to the radio.

"What?" You snapped as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You reached up and set your container on the dashboard of your car.

"Peach." Satoru softly said and you could hear the relief in his voice. "I've been trying to get ahold of you."

"I know you have you think you would've gotten the hint by now to leave me alone. Also what did I tell you about that stupid nickname." You said as you looked down at your nails trying to keep your voice leveled.

"I know you don't want to talk to me but please let me explain." He pleaded and you looked out at the water that looked calm as the tide came in around this time.

The silence that fell between you two was deafening and you hated it. You bite your bottom lip as you heard his labored breathing hinting he was trying to keep himself from crying. You could feel the tears threaten to spill over you water line as you uttered one word.

"No." You softly spoke and then hung the phone up. You blocked his number so he couldn't call back.

You could feel the tears run down your cheeks as you continued to look out to the sea in front of you as the warm air blasted against your skin. You grabbed your food, losing your appetite, and placing it in your passenger seat. You buckled your seat belt and headed towards your apartment because you could spend all night sitting here watching the waves hit the shore over and over again. You wiped the few tears that spilled over as you gripped onto the steering wheel tightly trying to focus on anything other than how broken he sounded. You wanted him to explain himself and you wanted him to beg forgiveness but you knew if you allowed that there was possibility that you'd take him back.

You frowned at the possibility that he doesn't want you back at all and the only reason that he is even upset is because he got caught. Once you got back to your apartment and inside you placed your left overs in the fridge. You looked at your phone and decided it was time to delete every single trace of him from your life. All the text messages, all the phone, and all the voicemails he had left you. Tomorrow was a new day and you were happy to get back to work so you could focus on anything but him.

There was a long to-do-list you and Emi put together that kept getting put off because you both were either too lazy or too busy to complete. You decided to complete as much as you could while Emi was away; the busier you were the faster the day would go by until you could reunite with Emi and Kento. You just had to get through three more days and you'd be able to reunite with your best friends. You set an alarm and laid your head against your cool pillow and sighed in content. You were proud of yourself, despite the ache in your heart, for blocking his number along with the memories of him.

Starting tomorrow you were going to get on with your life as if Satoru Gojo had never existed.

©ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2025 ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜꜱʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴊᴇʟʟʏꜰɪꜱʜ ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ

[storiesaplenty]

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Part 2

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: a bit of swearing

Requested by no one.

WC: 1234

©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work. All readers are female, unless stated otherwise.

Daryl Dixon's POV:

I couldn't believe my eyes.

There she was, standing there, pointing a gun at me.

"Holy shit, Flower is that you?"

She gave me a soft smile, which seemed to make my heart flutter, just like it did all those years ago.

"Daryl Dixon, I should have known that you would still be alive."

She lowered her gun, and I lowered my bow, walking inside the small cabin and placing it against the door frame, always ready just in case.

"Wait, you know this woman Daryl?" Glenn asked me, making me nod my head yes.

"Yeah, we grew up together." I simply stated.

"I don't have much in the way of food, but please make yourselves comfortable. I have one bed."

She said as she looked at Lori. "I insist you take the bed." She made it clear with her tone of voice that no one else should be sleeping on it.

"Thank you. My name is Lori. This is my son Carl, that is Rick." Each person started to introduce themselves to her, as I closed the door behind me, making sure it was locked.

I made sure the cloth that she had covering the peep hole was covered.

Rick walked up to me, as she showed them where everyone could sleep.

"Is this someone we can trust, Daryl?"

"I have always trusted her. I'm not going to stop now." I pretty much grunted at him.

"If you trust her, then I will too. Let's figure out who is going to be on the first watch."

"If we keep our noise down, and keep the lights low, then any biter usually just goes on by. Just make sure to keep each window covered like I have them now, and we should be good until morning. Besides, you're not going to be able to see much out there anyways, not with the storm coming in." At that moment a big strike of thunder happened.

"Everyone just stay near the center of the room as much as possible. Try to stay away from the windows." Rick called out as we got settled in for the night.

◇

I watched as her and Carol talked softly to one another, the two of them laughing amongst themselves.

I didn't realise I was watching them, until Carol nudged her.

"What you lookin' at Dixon?" Flower said to me, bringing flashes of us when we were younger, and her catching me looking at her.

"Nothin," I mumbled, making her shake her head in amusement, and stand up, leaving Carol to look at me, as Flower sat down next to me, shoulder to shoulder.

"How have you been treating yourself?" She asked me.

"Alright." Was all she got.

"Some things never change." Was all she said to me.

There was a bit of silence between us, not awkward, just content.

"You know, when I heard what happened at the hospitals, I thought you were killed."

I told her, finally breaking the silence. She turned her body to face me.

"Wasn't even there that day. Was my day off. When I heard what happened, I packed what I could and left, believing that the military was going to do something to the city, and I was right about that."

She told me how she met up with other people, and how she ended up here, alone.

"You know, you can always join us." I mumbled, already knowing that Rick would be fine with it, as she was a trained nurse.

"Daryl, I am actually enjoying being alone, but let me think about it."

I wanted to try and convince her to come with us. That she would be safe with us. We have the numbers.

That I finally found her, and that I couldn't let her go, but I didn't say that.

I didn't say any of that.

"Whatever man." I said.

"Now Daryl, no need to act like that. Tell me how you really feel." She could always read me. It was like she still knew me after all these years.

"You know you will be safer with us. We have more people, and what if it isn't just walkers that come through here?"

"Walkers huh? I like that. Daryl, I have thought about that, trust me I have, but your group is lucky to have even found this place, just like I was. This is so far out of the way, that no one knows it is here."

"If we were able to find it, then so will others, whose intentions may not be as good as ours." I crossed my arms over my chest, getting frustrated with her and her stubbornness.

"You talk it over with the person in charge of your group, and I will come with you, happy now?" She placed her hand on my bicep, and I swear she squeezed it, but just softly though.

"Yes." I gave her a soft smile, as she laid her head on my shoulder. The two of us dozing off to sleep.

◇

I woke up due to a loud clap of thunder, and found Rick at the front door, who pulled up a rocking chair he found.

"Glenn and T-Dog are watching the back." He quietly informed me.

"Rick, I was thinking," He knew what I was going to say.

"You want her to come with us?" He questioned, never taking his eyes off the front door.

"She was a trained nurse. She knows how to defend herself, and others. She knows how to hunt and track, and knows which plants are poisonous or not. Hell man, she did archery back in high school."

"Sounds like the female version of you." I snorted when he said that, actually making him break his eye contact from the door.

"She grew up rich, and not at all like me." I muttered.

"And yet, we are here, trying to survive. Doesn't matter who we truly were back then. The world has changed Daryl."

I agreed with him, but didn't say so.

I took over the watch a few minutes later, letting Rick get some sleep.

◇

The storm had passed by the time everyone was waking up.

I was handed a bowl of oatmeal, and I quickly devoured it.

"Like I said, not much, but." Flower started to say.

"It is more than enough, thank you." Lori said.

"Thank you." The other said.

"Daryl came to me last night, when I was on watch, asking if you could join us. If you would like too, then it is okay with me. He told me how you can hunt, track. Which plants are poisonous or not. Did archery, and you were a nurse."

I saw that Hershel perked up at that last bit.

"We can always use another medical professional. Even more so with the little one due any day." Hershel said.

"I'll join you. Just stay another day until the ground dries a bit. It is all mud out there, and we will not get away from any walker if they catch up to us."

The group agreed, and they settled in for another day of having shelter.

Flower walked up to me, "Looks like you are stuck with me Daryl."

I wanted to tell her I wouldn't have it any other way, but I just bumped her shoulder with mine.

"I never got to ask. Where is your brother?"

Part 1 ♡ Part 3 - coming soon

[lemotmo]

.......I am so very confused by these people

Q. I'm hoping I explain this correctly because I don't want to come across as rude. I very much appreciate that you take the time to provide canon examples when you are replying to people but I was curious about your response to the anon who offered you canon examples of why the story is actually about Buck and Tommy, and not Eddie. How come those canon examples were dismissed as 'made up' but your canon examples are not 'made up'?

A. I'm assuming you're speaking of the reply to the person who took my episode examples and resent them to me saying how they were actually about Tommy and not Eddie? And I said it was made up because their argument was asinine. Their argument essentially boiled down to saying that Buck really was cursed by Billy Boils and Tommy helped 'cure' him of said curse by playing along with him as proof of his unwavering support and we were supposed to take the curse thing at face value because Tim said in an interview that it was a curse and Tommy helped fix him. But that's not an accurate description of what Tim actually said. Yes he played along with the curse bit in an interview, but literally no one else did. And you can't say we're not supposed to take Tim saying Tommy is in Buck's romantic past at face value and then turn around and say but we do have to take the curse nonsense at face value.

Then they spent 4 paragraphs on how Tommy saying Eddie was competition wasn't really Tommy saying he sees Eddie as competition. They said the word competition was an accident because he was too nervous to organize his thoughts correctly so he said the first word he could think of and that was the word competition, but that's not really what he meant (even though the word competition only ever means ONE thing and literally no one uses it accidentally) therefore that means it was a miscommunication and they're actually doing the miscommunication trope for Buck and Tommy. Then they argued that Buck also didn't mean what he said except the times he said Eddie was straight. Those were honest words but everything else Buck said was Buck lying to himself because he's afraid to admit that he's in love with Tommy. So that makes it a miscommunication on both sides. And you don't understand why I dismissed that 'argument' as asinine? Then they said that basically the episode was just really badly written and because of that it was confusing in general but basically Tommy didn't mean what he said, and Buck was only telling the truth every time he said Eddie was straight but the rest of the episode he was lying because he's afraid of his feelings for Tommy and is using Eddie as a kind of shield. It makes less than zero sense, anon. Come on, what do you want me to do with an argument like that? You can't possibly expect me to entertain it as any kind of valid argument. If you have to twist the story and yourself into that much of a pretzel to try and project your narrative onto it then the story is not being told the way you're trying to insist it's being told. It's that simple. An alleged curse, an allegedly badly written episode, and now a sister with pregnancy brain and PTSD who shouldn't be allowed to give relationship advice (something so offensive and gross that I can't properly express how gross it is btw) is the hill that they're trying to argue on. Really? Nope. I'm not going to pretend nonsense like that should be taken seriously.

Thank you Nonny!

Well then...

¯\(ツ)/¯

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[adalitas-coffeebreak-corner]

Something's gotten hold of my heart pt. 2

The miscommunication.

Remus Lupin x Slytherin!fem!reader

Words: 5.1k

A/n: This took sooo much longer than I originally thought, but here it is! And suprise, there's gonna be a part 3 so do not fret the cliffhanger, whoops. Anyways i hope you'll enjoy the chaos.

Warnings: insults, arranged marrige, miscomunnication, the oh... oh realisation from Regulus, idiots in love, Reggie and James having a row, Sirius having a slight panic attack, alot of self-blame, please let me know if i'm forgetting something!

Y/n is falling in love with Remus and it scares the life out of her, yet she might be ready to let him in.

There is just one problem.. Sirius' excellent communication skills.

Y/n exhales a shaky breath as Remus turns away, she didn't realize how much it had hurt her to turn him down before her eyes flicker up to see his hand already on the handle. His touch still lingering on her skin.

She too feels rejected, but why was she trying to fool herself? She has been the sole reason why Remus has turned away; she offered nothing but venomous words when he was just trying to help. In that moment y/n realizes she has to act, and regret later, the walls she build that kept her lonely and empty are starting to crumble because of this boy... The boy who’s most likely going to be gone from her life in a few seconds.

 "Remus wait!"

Her voice had caught them both off guard, seemingly promoting two very different reactions. Remus stopped his movements instantly, yet choosing not to face her quite fully, his face only tilted in her direction. Y/N's fingers twitch wanting to reach out to him, but she decides against it instead focusing on choosing her next words. "I didn't, I just.." she sighed, her body caving in on itself, shoulders slumping forward.

"It didn't mean it" she admits, her voice barely audible like it’s having a hard time breaking through the tension of the room. Remus has yet to look at her.

"It's just-" she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, shifting her weight between her feet, struggling to give him an explanation without giving too much away. "I don't tend to let people in" For a moment there’s silence. Then ever so slowly Remus turns to face her fully, nothing but softness in his face as he answers her simply with:

"I know"

Y/n shallows the lump in her throat. Of course he knew. If anyone understands what it means to carry a burden alone, it's Remus. He offers her a smile, more as a sign of understanding than a normal courtesy. "You don't have to tell me anything.." his signature gentleness shining though, as his attention is seemingly caught by the floor, before continuing. "But if you ever need someone to listen.. I’m here dove" It takes her a couple of seconds to process his words. There is no pressure, no demand- just an open door ready to lead her further away from the life she knows. It both terrifies her and calms her all at once. She glances down at her bruised knuckles again, then back up at him, his eyes holding nothing but quiet patience. Y/n nods and Remus finally makes a move to open the door, disappearing from her field of view.

 As y/n sits on her bed, her green curtains drawn, shielding her from the world, replaying their conversation. She thinks that maybe - just maybe- she doesn’t have to face this alone, yet something continues to gnaw at her soul. There’s no path, no reassurance and it scares her. She has lived in a state of survival for so long that such endeavors as love seems trivial, bathed in the ambivalence that occupies every though.

On the one hand Remus isn’t like the others, but he’s still human and there’s plenty of time for him to grow tired of her. What if she willingly sacrifices her own freedom in exchange for a broken heart that would have no way of healing?

Y/N drums her fingers quietly against her knee, like she’s waiting for the thoughts to die down at their own pace.

If everything failed, she would still have Sirius, right?

Even he has grown tired of her and why wouldn’t he? Now that he’s got all girls’ and guys’ attention, even Barty calling him pretty boy when he lacked a proper insult. Yet, there was no denying that she had to talk to him, even just for a moment to get his opinion on what her next move should be.

She can already hear his voice echoing, “What do you mean by planning your next move love? They are called feelings, not plannings”

He had always been rather controlled by his emotions, which didn’t bother her until recently, mostly because it seems he’s allowed to get away with it while she has had to obtain a perfectly curated image and it’s starting to drown her beneath the surface.

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

The moment Remus' bag hits the floor of their shared dorm room, Sirius is sitting right next to him on the bed being uncharacteristically quiet. Remus doesn’t exactly make a move, mostly startled by his friend’s speed from across the room. Usually, this antic is followed by a brief (read: an hour) conversation about a new girl he magically seduced, or something that happened in quidditch practice, or maybe even a prank yet to be shared with Remus, or all three at once.

 "Remus, there's something I need to tell you"

Remus almost groans but keeps his exterior perfectly still, he can’t process anything serious at the moment (pun intended) not when the warmth of her skin still lingers on his nerve endings. Surely they’ve shared accidental touches in the library, the faint hue of pink tinting his cheeks whenever it happened, but this didn’t feel like a moment that came and went, it almost felt eternal.

And it scares him.

He fully knows how much he longs for her; he doesn’t have to be reminded every single time he looks into Sirius’ stormy eyes or overhearing the mumbling and whispers of their peers.

“What’s wrong Pads?” he slowly moved to make himself a little more comfortable, not entirely knowing what to expect.

Sirius looks down toying with one of his many golden rings before confessing.

“I have been lying to you all, it’s not real”

“what’s not real?” Remus’ confused expression strains his brows, making sure to leave a few creases years down the line.

“I love her” the sound of his voice strained and mangled as he spoke faster than his brain could register. A shiver of dread runs down Remus’ back as he knows exactly who his friend is referring to, his heart beating faster than ever despite forgetting to breathe. Remus manages to think nothing and everything in the time it takes for Sirius to speak up again.

“Well, not exactly-“ he sighs, the words he practiced disappearing and drifting away like smoke. “No one knows about it besides Regulus. Y/n and I have known each other for years through our families, and when they told us about the marriage... It just seemed like a good idea to, well you know” Sirius gets up with determination maneuvering his body to retrieve the pack of cigarettes laying on his bedside table. He positions himself next to the window, cracking it open before fully sitting down on the windowsill.

Remus wants to cry.

He realizes in that moment all his worst fears are coming true, that Sirius is going to go through with the wedding because he’s in love with Y/n. But why wouldn’t he be? It is extremely egotistical of him to think Sirius wouldn’t eventually see how smart, beautiful and wonderful she really is. That must be why his reaction to Regulus earlier today was off, he wanted to be the one to hold and comfort her.

As his thoughts are spiraling the taste of metal seeps into his senses making him realize he’s been chewing down hard on the inside of his cheek, making him grimace.

Sirius takes this as a nonverbal sign that the lanky boy disapproves, not realizing that he’s left an important piece of information unspoken.

“I know what you all think of her-“ he defends himself before getting cut off by the door flying open revealing James and Peter as they stagger into the space. The sound is what brings Remus back to reality, and against his better judgement makes a beeline towards the door, needing desperately to escape the situation.

“What’s up with Moony?” Peter inquires, plopping down on his own bed.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him move that fast in human form, like.. ever” James’ tone of voice holds a bit more concern than Peters.

Sirius’ eyes shut tightly as he lets his head bow down towards the ground. Sirius knows that the boys’ reactions to the news could be rather.. negative, yet in no made-up scenario in his head, did he ever imagine Remus storming off to the news of his friendship with the Slytherin.

“What did you say” James’ tone making it a statement rather than a question, based on years of experience with the black-haired boy’s impetuosity, which frequently is the cause of the group’s disagreements.  

Without lifting his head Sirius extends the pack towards James which he hesitantly takes, slipping a cigarette between his lips, lighting it with ease while still awaiting an explanation.

“I’ve been lying to you about my relationship with Y/n”

The two boys squint their eyes at him, Peter who seems genuinely baffled and James who’s getting just a bit tired of the dramatic pauses, the two speaking up at the same time.

“What do you mean?”

“go on”

A ping ball match of conversation ensues:

“I don’t hate her”

“Of course you do” Peter outright denies the possibility.

“She’s my best friend” Sirius tries to get the point across.

“No, I’m your best friend” James argues back in disbelieve.

“You are also my best friend” Sirius elaborates.

“You only have one Pads, that’s why it’s your best frien-“

“For merlins sake shut up Prongs, Sirius you have to explain yourself” Peter cuts James off before he can get the chance to make the situation about himself, a common theme with the curly haired boy, though never intentional.

Sirius starts the story from the beginning.

Remus hasn’t felt this way since his first transformation. It’s suffocating. It’s a gnawing feeling that fills up his entire being, his skin feels like it’s on fire. It’s the sight of a train driving towards you at full speed and you’re tied to the tracks. He needed to get out of there, replaying the sentence repeatedly.

“I love her”

First he tries to go to the astronomy tower but some icky couple with their tongues down each other’s throats has already claimed it, so he lets his autopilot brain take over, determined steps dragging towards the library. It’s as good as empty when he enters, except a few students looking stressed or asleep.

Remus’ eyes are set on the table furthest away, as he decides to seek refuge far away from anyone potentially finding him, especially The Mauraders. He just manages to slump into the wooden chair before the realization hits him like a wet towel flung at high speed.

The map..

They have the map which means he cannot run away forever. Maybe the room of requirement could shield him momentarily? It would be worth a shot- “Oh for godrics sake!” His hand flies up to cover his mouth from the sheer shock caused by the black-haired gaunt-looking boy with an uncanny resemblance to Sirius, who’s sitting staring daggers at him.

“You look terrible” Regulus greets, once again adverting his gaze downwards skimming through his potion’s notes. Remus swears the air got colder in the library.

“Hello to you too Reg” He gasped, still a little out of breath from his quick exit, looking over the younger boy’s usual gloomy features assessing the situation. Usually, this kind of sudden encounter from one of his brother’s friends would have bothered Regulus senselessly, but something deep inside of him couldn’t completely write off Remus, perhaps because of Y/n’s affections towards him, that she tried to hide.

But let’s be honest, Regulus knows her better than herself, always being one step ahead of everyone. He prefers to think of it as an “empathy injury” rather than family trauma.

“Look-“ He declares, shutting his book looking back at Remus who still looks like a kid caught in doing something wrong. “I don’t actually care about the nature of your… predicament, but since you’re a friend of Sirius’ I’ll pretend to”

Regulus looks rather stoic, hands folded together neatly on the table. Remus’ brows furrow, but Regulus notices the tightening of his jaw at the mention of his brother. After a couple of moments, the young werewolf is still searching for anything he could string a sentence with, but the younger Black isn’t as patient as his brother.

“Lupin, you look like a wet puppy, now tell me why”

Finally Remus breaks down, a stray tear making its way down his cheek getting caught on the roughness of his scars. “I, erhm Sirius and I aren’t talking right now” He admits eyes darting to the opposite side of the room, then back down towards the ground, mouth slightly agape. Regulus nods, his eyes blinking a couple of times before he leans a little forward. Remus thinks he looks too mature for his age, like he’s an adult interfering in a childish fight.

“What did brother dearest do now?” there’s a tiny smirk hidden within the curves of Regulus mouth, not necessarily because of their supposed falling out, more of a quiet acknowledgement of Sirius’ character.

“He told me about Y/n”

Regulus face falls at once.

“What about Y/n?” It doesn’t come out as a question rather a warning for him to continue carefully. Remus holds back a breath as he locks eyes with him.

“He told me about their arrangement, how he’s actually.. ” he admits dragging his hand down his face, trying his hardest to finish the sentence yet the word love wouldn’t leave his lips, but he didn’t have to before Regulus’s aurora turns murderous, eyes slightly wider as he hisses in a way only a Slytherin could.

“That dammed bastard” he whispers behind gritted teeth.

“Yeah” Remus agrees sighing, albeit for a different reason. Reggie chews on the side of his own cheek making his cheekbones appear even sharper than normal. He has feared exactly this, he knew deep down Sirius would screw it up, he knew that boy never thought properly about anyone but himself and now it will result in their best friend’s misery.

Nonetheless when Regulus’ instinctive reaction to the news subsides, his brows furrow. Actually thinking about why Remus would have such a reaction and he can’t help but flash a humorless smile, “So we really disgust you that much?” he asks, yet not really expecting an answer as he starts to pack away his notebook and quill. He feels bad for Y/n.

Remus looks caught off guard as he manages to question Regulus’ statement. “What?”

“Oh don’t play dumb with me Lupin, the only reason you could possibly be this upset by the arrangement is-“ The sentence dies out as the object of their conversation suddenly appears a few feet away from them, promoting Regulus to look at Y/n, who’s happily walking towards the pair.

“Hi Reggie” She greets him, turning to face Remus greeting him with a sly smile “Lupin”

Regulus looks over to Remus and it finally dawns on him like a ton of bricks. There was no mistaking the look of pure adoration emanating from Lupin, the way his pupils visibly enlarges at the sight of her, the small breath that remains caught in his throat, the parting of lips and, wait a second..

Oh… oh.

Regulus instantly feels like he has discovered a rather intimate secret, one he hasn’t expected, which in his world results in a bit of skepticism. A romance between the two would explain a lot, but Y/n is smarter than that surely, in his mind there’s no happy ending for the couple; should this miscommunication be solved, he’s sure of it.

Anyhow a small smile creeps up on him finding the situation almost humorous, cause of course his brother’s falling out with Remus is caused by jealousy that results from Sirius’ poor phrasing. Atlas he decides to keep the cards close to his chest, not revealing anything as Y/n sits down next to him.

Remus feels ready to run again. The last thing he wants to do is be bathed in the presence of her light that highlights all his own eternal flaws and misery. Love is a cruel thing, to make his heart soar only to completely crush it in the span of a year.

“Since when do you two talk?” Y/n asks, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention focused on her, yet no answer is given straight away, Regulus only clearing his throat while stealing a glimpse of the boy on his left side before looking down towards his notes, sliding a piece of parchment towards the girl.

“We, erh, we don’t, I was just looking for a book on potions and Reg here-” Remus offers her with an almost convincing smile before he’s cut off.

“and you were just leaving to find it, weren’t you.. Lupin” Regulus says so softly it almost doesn’t sound like a passive aggressive way to get him to leave. Remus nods and stands, but not before stealing one final glance at Y/n.

Watching him leave, she turns towards Regulus clearly searching for an explanation, yet the younger boy only continues writing. “Reggi-“ She starts, but stops when her eyes trail down to where his hand suddenly engulfs her own comfortingly. A few seconds pass before he starts to speak, lifting his head slightly as he thinks about how to tell her how oblivious she’s been. That would be easy enough he figures, but having to tell her about Sirius’ betrayal of her trust would be difficult.

Speaking of difficult, three pairs of shoes running across the library makes Regulus lose whatever patience he’s maintaining, as their faces appear looking rather frazzled.

“Arh brother dearest” Sirius quickly turns to Y/n “Love, have you seen Remus?” he asks her with such a softness she’s never experienced while being surrounded by others. It makes her freeze, her sight ping ponging between the four of them before settling on Regulus silently asking for help at navigating the situation, since he clearly looks like he magically knows what’s going on.

With a quick huff of air, he explains “Sirius told all of his friends about your... arrangement”

And just like that the tension snaps like a fragile piece of string, a string Y/n might use to choke out Sirius, Regulus wonders as her face turns a little redder, eyes staring daggers like his own had done moments before.

A few minutes have passed before anyone can get a coherent word in, Y/n and Sirius having argued like an old married couple, hurling insults and blame around like snowballs at wintertime in the courtyard. The atmosphere is tense as James tries his best to defend Sirius, standing behind him like a guard dog and Regulus mirroring him behind Y/n. Peter recons it’s like watching a tennis match, just scarier.

Y/n stands with her arms crossed, cold and distant, her body language creating a thick wall between her and Sirius. The tension in the room is palpable. Sirius, his usual confident demeanor slipping away, reaches out, his hands trembling slightly as they hover near her arms.

“Y/n, I never meant for any of this to happen. You know I care about you, right? I thought-I thought I was doing the right thing. I had to tell them, I had to…” Sirius desperately tries to reason with her, eyes getting redder by the minute.

Sirius’s heart clenches, his eyes filled with regret. “Y/n, please, they’re not gonna tell anyone-“

“Do you have any idea how much this could ruin everything for me, for us?” Her voice trembles slightly, the hurt in her words cutting deep. She pulls back even further, eyes not meeting his. “You leave me to handle everything on my own and then you jeopardize my future.”

 A frustration bubbles within him as Regulus steps forward, his tone colder than ever, cutting off his older brother, almost snarling at him.

“No, you should have kept it between us. This isn’t just some minor mistake, Sirius. This is a matter of life and death!” Regulus’s eyes bore into him, voice dripping with disdain as he delivers the final sting, forcing a laugh “You never think about anyone else, do you?”

Sirius’s face falls, his brow furrowing as a nerve near his right eye twitches in response. He opens his mouth to defend himself, but no words come out. Instead, he looks down, almost ashamed, unable to meet anyone's gaze.

James, unable to stand by and let Regulus continue, steps forward, getting in his face.

“Oh, you don’t get to talk to him like that, not when you know why he left your precious noble house of Black”

Regulus glares at James.

“Yeah, I think you’re forgetting your place, Potter.”

In the background, students who had been asleep start to scramble out of the room, trying to avoid getting caught in the middle. But Y/n doesn’t care—she’s too focused on the turmoil in front of her.

Y/n’s patience snaps, and she finally raises her voice, her frustration boiling over. In the back of her mind, she’s silently thanking merlin that Madame Pince is nowhere to be found. The whole scene has grown chaotic, and the library, once peaceful, now feels like a warzone. Her voice rings out with more authority than ever.

“I think you’re both forgetting your places!” She looks at James, who is still standing silently with arms crossed, then Regulus, who is breathing heavily with disdain. “You both care too much about something that is none of your businesses. Stop shouting at each other.”

The room quiets for a moment. The harsh words from Regulus and James hang in the air, but the heated exchange has worn itself thin.

Sirius with his face pale and eyes clouded, has grown uncharacteristically still, staring at the ground.

There are small marks of dirt littered across the wooden floor he notices.

The room is starting to spin, his hands numb, thoughts spiraling out of control.

Y/n is watching him carefully, a small sigh escaping her lips as she realizes just how deeply he’s affected. Surely she feels betrayed, but the look on his face blinds her from any previous emotion. She steps closer, her presence a soft contrast to the sharpness of their argument. Her fingers, gently fit firmly, finding their way to his arm, an apology of sorts. The warmth of her touch soothes him, pulling him from his spiraling thoughts. Sirius closes his eyes, almost as if he's trying to keep the world from crashing down on him. She engulfs him in a hug and he reaches out clinging onto her, his hands grabbing at her sweater, clutching it as if it were a lifeline.

His voice is barely above a whisper, breaking in a way Y/n was uncomfortably familiar with. “I didn’t mean to ruin it, Y/n. Please… You must believe me. I didn’t want to leave you. I never meant to hurt you.”

Y/n’s heart is aching for him, her face softens. She runs a hand up his back in a soothing gesture, then resting it at the back of his head. Her voice is quietly seeping through the emotion in the room like a lullaby. When Sirius breaks the judgement is over, everyone gathers an ounce of decency to give her the space she needs to comfort him. “It’s okay, Siri,” she murmurs, a somber smile gracing her lips. “I know you didn’t mean to.” For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Sirius allows himself to relax, her warmth soothing him away from the memories he’s so desperately trying to forget, dug up by her disappointment mixed with the sharp words of his brother. The tightness in his chest eases, and his hands stop trembling.

James and Regulus having calmed down, are watching the exchange. There’s a palpable shift in the room, the tension dissipating with every passing moment as the storm of emotions settles into something more manageable. Regulus, his earlier fury softened, exhaling sharply. James, still protective of his friend, glances at Regulus but stays quiet. Peter speaks up for the first time since they started yelling, drawing the group’s attention.

“Not to interrupt your moment, but..” He leans closer to James and Sirius like it would help shield the sound from reaching Y/n and Regulus. “Should we have brought the map?”

Their demeanor changes comically fast.

James and Sirius simultaneously face palm, a groan escaping the formers lips as he readjusts his glasses. “Merlin, this is why we can’t afford a falling out with Moony" He mutters under his breath. “Wait a second, why do you need the map?” Y/n questions as she slowly releases Sirius looking up at him for an explanation. Peter’s head whips towards her as he makes a sound of exasperation, “How does she know about the map?”

But before Sirius can answer him, she speaks up over him. “Who do you think gave him the enchantment to-“

“That! Is not incredibly important right now, we just need to find Moony” Sirius interrupts. Peter decides to let it lie... for now.

“Remus? He was just here asking Regulus about a book for potions class” she looks to the younger boy for conformation, yet he only offers a sideway glance.

“What way did he go?” James inquires.

“I dunno, it looked like he took a left out of the library-“

“Thank you darling!” Sirius yells as the three marauders set off towards the door, yet they are cut short by the doors flying shut. "What in the-"

“Wait” Y/n yells, placing her wand back into its place in her beltloop. “What’s wrong with Remus?” a gnawing feeling was coursing through her entire being, making it impossible to think. Remus had left awfully quickly once she had arrived at the table, maybe he was still hurt by their interaction earlier. She had to fix it, the rest of the guys shouldn´t have to clean up the mess she had caused. “I told him about us and he just.. freaked out, I don’t know” Sirius admits. Her eyes dull blinking away the oncoming emotions.

Of course it is her fault, of course Remus would be angry. Technically they had both withheld an important piece of information. Regulus sonders over with long steps speaking up. “Since all of you have the emotional intelligence of a wooden spoon I might have to interject”

“Alright then, c’mon spit it out” James' hand continuing a rolling motion for him to continue. He sighs, exchanging a glance, before continuing

“Well it’s quite obvious those two idiots are in love, you know, the fugitive and the door-slammer”

The wind is knocked from Y/n's chest as James laughs “Remus in love with her? Has he ever even talked to her? All he’s heard about her is Sirius talking shi-“ He coughs catching himself before trying to do damage control.

“soo many nice things-”

“Is it true?” Sirius asks her as their eyes lock, and before she can even speak Sirius already has his answer. It’s written all over her face, the fragile look that she never allowed herself to show before. It´s like a light emanating from her in a way he hasn't noticed until now. “We’ve talked in the library a couple of times, nothing scandalous but…” she trails off. She’s afraid of Sirius' reaction but as soon as he registers her response, he grins from ear to ear wrapping his arms around lifting her from the ground.

“I can’t believe it! You’re perfect for each other! My best mates are in love!”

“What am I to you? Chopped lever? Ouch-“ James groans as Peter levels him with a swift smack.  

“Leave the ego trip for the Quidditch pitch Prongs, and if we’re done celebrating love, we still need to find him before someone else does” He scolds.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with Peter, but we should go find him, I can’t stand the idea that he’s out there all alone, he could get hurt! Why aren’t you fools doing anything, merlin” As quickly as she can her legs carry her she runs out into the hall, leaving the boys to follow her.

It felt natural for Y/n and Sirius to split from the group to cover more ground while James and Peter went back to their dorm to retrieve the map. Their search is quiet, as they move past teachers and avoid waking the sleeping portraits. They don't dare speak until they find themselves outside school grounds, dressed too poorly for the cold weather.

"I might have, accidentally might I add, led dear Remus to believe we're in love.." She couldn't find it in herself to respond the way she wants to, mostly a verbal hurl of insults. But one main thing stuck to her thoughts, halting her step, making Sirius look back at her, the wind making his long hair flow almost cinematically. "Are you telling me you're not in love with me?" The intensity of their stare only lasts a couple of seconds before a howl of laughter emits from both. Sirius relaxes throwing his arm around her shoulders, mostly to subtly warm her. "You had me going there for a second pumpkin… now- I can tell you're thinking about something, you get this murderous look when you're pensive”

It takes a couple of seconds for her to gather her thoughts, having to remind herself that she is in a, somewhat, safe space.

"Do you reckon Reggie is right?" She tugs her bottom lip in between her teeth, keeping it hostage, hindering her from speaking up out of nervousness. Sirius only smirks looking out in the distance. "Regulus is a lot of things... but unfortunately, he's quite bright" he reassures her.

"Are you okay with it? I know you had your moment of pure mania back in the library, but" she cuts off her own sentence before adding the dreaded question.

 "Is all of this going to be okay?”

[keelt9]

Chapter 7

Masterlist

This is pretty much like her childhood, staying up late at night with her parents at the entrance observing the bright sparkling stars as they swing in the rocking chair.

Now with Monet covered in his big sweater, a pre Christmas gift from her father under them.

“Is a nice guy?” Mr. Rotherham asks, grabbing his daughter's hand.

Y/N giggles seeing under them. “Dad, you know him, Monet is such a good boy.”

“Come on honey, don’t play the fool with your father.” He searches for something in his pocket.

When he found it, he gave it to her, the cute drawing of a bengal with a tiny heart next to it. 

“At least you had a tiger in your house. I highly doubt this is for an animal.” She laughs, letting her head rest on his father's shoulder.

“Dad…” 

Mr. Rotherham can picture his wife standing in the window hearing them encouraging her husband to keep talking with their daughter.

“Listen darling, I want you to know you can talk with me, I know, I'm not the best at talking about things, but you can tell me anything and…” He scoffs at kissing his daughter's hand. “Probably I'll have the worst advice in the world but, at least you know what you don't do.” 

Y/N laughs and breathes in. “Mom was amazing with the talking thing.”

Her father nods. “Still I appreciate the effort dad, but believe me there is not so much to talk about, in summary, I like him, he likes me too but…”

She takes her time seeing the stars. “But I guess it’s not the right time or maybe we aren’t the right people?”

“Y/N…”

She sees her father. “Could you trust a possibility? With the high chances a lot of thighs would go wrong.”

Mr. Rotherham wished he had the words she needed to hear, because his wife for sure would have it.

Y/N chuckles observing her father and all his neurons trying to find an answer. “Want a reason for rejecting him, right now.”

“Please, that would be so helpful.” Y/N sees Monet hiding his face in his bed. 

“Don't take in count Monet and he for sure prefers to see the dogs far away from his face.” Mr. Rotherham opens his mouth in disbelief.

“A cat boy huh?” Y/N nods. “Wise decisions darling, wise ones.”

Y/N laughs hugging her father, as Monet barks in his dreams. 

It's been 2 days since Joe's birthday and he seems in a bad mood, even if he tries to fake it.

The season is almost over and their chances to get the playoffs stopped depends on them, and he hates being in that spot.

His mind is so cloudy for those thoughts that makes him open the door after it has been knocked, without even caring who is at the other side.

Not until a small candle in the middle of a pumpkin pie lights his face.

“Happy post-birthday!” Y/N is wearing a hairband with the letters <Happy birthday> as his sight goes down Monet has a small cap.

“What?” He giggles seeing such a scene.

“Make a wish, right baby?” The word baby makes Joe's heart stop but when he raises his eyes, notice that word, of course, is directed to Monet who barks right away.

Joe smirks, he knows he needs to work for that word

After blowing the candle, Y/N was taken out of guard, he grabbed her by the arm to pull her for a hug, keeping her pressed to his chest, letting all the clouds in his mind fade away, feeling calm.

She sobs his back, feeling how his muscles relax.

“Hard weeks?” Y/N asked, grabbing tight the pumpkin pie as Monet kept moving his tail side to side.

“I’m glad you're here.” Monet barks. “Both of you.” 

Y/N smiles splitting apart seeing the dark under circles eyes from Joe eyes, strangely make the blue of his eyes turn more grey.

“And I'm a little offended.” She tilted his head. “A pumpkin pie that size?”

Joe points to the small pie. “Really?”

Y/N laughs head backwards. “I'm sorry, this was the only size, besides, you’re the one who keeps us standing in the front door in a col…”

Joe smirks, dragging her inside of the house as he calls Monet to get inside too; so happy  be with her one more time.

With later an improvised dinner, they sit with Monet in front of the big windows, seeing the sky going darker and darker every second.

“Oh before I forgot.” Y/N stands taking her key cars, but not her coat; after all it's just a quick stop to her car.

Joe sees Monet sitting tipping his paws ready for any indication that his owner gives to him.

“Oh, it's freezing!” Y/N goes inside with a small square between her cold hands.

Joe giggles putting a blanket over her shoulders. “Here! It's a present from both of us.”

Her excitement is visible so he decides to tease her opening carefully, slowly a small canva takes form; when he finally sees it, a big “Whoa!” Comes immediately.

It's the painting of him sitting with his pink hoodie and his black beanie, in the bench with a clear sky and the sunlight peeking through the branches with the green leaves, at the corner the paw in black and white of Monet.

“What do you think?” Y/N waits with curious eyes observing Joe's smile growing bigger.

Joe touches the canva feeling the edge of the brush-stroke from every change of color, the exact details from the bench and you could miss it if you don't have attention but a small football ball next to him.

“You're amazing!” By instinct, due to containing emotions or just because he knows it's the perfect moment, he gives her a quick pack in her cheek. 

Y/N covers her eyes feeling her face could easily burn if you touch it. “I tried to finish earlier but two weeks ago there were a lot of details missing, I wanted to be almost perfect.”

“Almost?” Joe raises the canva. “It's perfect! I love it.”

Seeing Joe so mesmerized by something she did is a moment she wants to treasure forever, her soft smile on his lips and his bright eyes is such a scene for her.

However her heart palpitation brings her back to the heart, one more second staring at him and she swears she will spill her feelings for him. "I must go." 

Y/N stands taking the blanket over her shoulders. "I have a lot to unpack and some things of work that I must check."

Joe turns his eyes to her and stands too.

"See you tomorrow." Y/N choke her head calling Monet.

"Monet only." Monet sits moving his head to his owner and Joe.

Joe let down his shoulders. "Sorry Joe, probably I'll have endless mails, I need to send some sketches, without counting the ones that are already concrete..." 

Monet laid his head on Joe's leg, making him scratch softly on his head. As tricky as it sounds, if he took a quick glimpse at her, he could notice the way Y/N is looking at them.

"Friday?" Joe said, lift his sight.

Y/N nods walking to grab her coat. "Like always."

As she said, Monet came running the next morning, with a visible freezing Savannah following him.

"Hey buddy." Monet waits for the sing so he can stand on two legs and kisses on the top of his head. "Hi Sav."

Savannah takes the football ball from the bag. "Burrow."

"Is she already working?" Joe asked, taking the ball, pressing it between his hands.

The park has Christmas lights all over the place, giving to the sunrise a special spark every morning, with the sunlights perking over the trees, the place is magical.

Savannah smiles, putting her hands in her pockets. 

"I believe I see my best friend somewhere behind the tower's papers and a few electronic things.” Joe laughs before throwing the ball. 

The fact Monet is so happy to see him even if they just spend time playing makes her curious about how this could start.

“So, Joe, how did you meet this cute little boy?” Joe lifts his eyebrows seeing the size of Monet, far from little.

“Well…” Joe chuckles. “He hates me and I was afraid of him. The first time we saw each other he came and sat there.” 

He points to the small bump of the hill where the breeze hits and the sunlight keeps you warm, unless it’s summer, if you stand there you could get a sunburn. 

“I kept my distance every time he arrived and he just walked next to the bench, sniffs in my direction and walks to lay on the hill; ignoring me all the time.” Savannah laughs, that’s exactly what Y/N does every time she meets someone and tries to approach her.

Observing the person, fakes a smile and processes to ignore it all the time, until she finds something to talk about.

“Then…” She mentions as sees Monet tapping his paws, Joe hasn’t thrown the ball all this time, he smirks and throws it. 

“One day, the sun disturbed him, so he lay next to the bench; he was a puppy and I couldn't avoid smiling. I sat next to him, he saw my hand with the cast and sniffed it carefully.” Monet walks back with the ball in his snout. “He lays his head on my lap next to my hand.” Savannah smiles. “I guess that 's all begins…”

“It makes sense.” Savahaan nods. “It’s hard to know who trained him better, you or Y/N.” 

Joe goes down for a stroke Monet spotted fur, observing the pink bandanna around his neck, his present for his first birthday.

“I guess she's doing an extraordinary job.” Savannah mentions admiring the connection between those two.

“Yeah, she’s extraordinary.” Joe said with a soft tone and sheepy eyes, not referring at all to the job of Y/N with Monet. 

Savannah wants to scream at that moment because that confirms that whatever he said that night drunk probably has more than a glimpse of truth.

“I’m here!” Nora said, taking her backpack as she entered the Y/N house. “Here.” Carrying a paper bag.

Y/N takes her glasses; the three towers of paper now are two. “Hi.” She narrowed her eyes when she gave the paper bag. “Your sister said don’t buy anything.”

Nora raises her hands. “I didn’t. I found the delivery guy in the entrance about to knock.”

If for delivery boy she refers to Joe taking her to the house after Nora suggests he bought something for Y/N eat, due she tends to skip the meals when she does that amount of work, yes, he was a delivery boy.

“I didn’t order anything.” Nora shakes her head picking up the files around Y/N. 

“I don’t know.” She put it next to Y/N. “Hey, I have homework. I’ll be in the living room, ok?” 

Y/N nods. “Sav will be here in 20 with Monet and the food.”

“Got it!” 

Nora stands next to the frame door trying to hear something as Y/N opens the paper bag. 

A smoothie and healthy snacks, at the bottom of the bag a pink note that makes her scoff. 

 >Drink it! It helps you to stay awake without the need of a coffee.” 

The attempt of a drawing of an ice cube in the corner, when she lifts the cup to take a sip she notices another note.

 > I MEAN IT!

This time a laugh escapes from her, making Nora high five mentally.

Y/N texts Joe when she drinks all the smoothie, the empty cup with a simple text. 

 >It was delicious, thank you.

In his half sleep state Joe let a soft chuckle escape from him, one last time before going to sleep.

“It tastes like red.” Joe giggles as Monet lay on their feets. 

“That’s not even a flavor” Y/N rolls her eyes at him, feeling the sunlights warm them.

Last night a small sleet fell all over the city, without even them having to ask if they would go or not to the park. Both of them, well wrapped up, appeared in the morning in the park sitting and sharing a blanket. 

“Well, it has what? Strawberries, raspberries, and what red beet?” She said covering Monet with the blanket even though he has a sweater.

“Oh, such a good palate.” Joe jokes with her. “Still you forgot blueberries”

She scoffs. “That’s not red, I’m not counting that.” 

“It has a little bit of red.” Y/N shakes her head, taking her phone to prove him wrong but Joe sees her screen.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Y/N looked at her phone but it’s too late. 

“It's not a donut.” She tries to focus the attention on another topic, knowing it’s useless. 

Joe clicks his tongue. “Ha, ha, ha, you saw it, I know.” So she gives up when she sees his eyes hiding like every time he purely smiles. 

“Are you kidding me?” She takes a huge amount of courage and prying things doesn’t turn awkward. “See…. You're my happy lock screen.” 

The photo of Ja’Marr splattering the donut in his face is her lockscreen, one of Joe small presents of his birthday.

“Don’t feel bad but there is a better point of view.” Joe leans, letting his face be just centimeters of hers, she didn't notice, until she was about to turn around to complain for not having it when her words stuck on her throat seeing Joe that close. 

She had him like this, close, just this time it feels different; his eyes are shiny blue like always but they looking at her with a soft spark, the red tip of his nose makes her bite a little bit her lip, along the fact he had that side smile on his face and his beanie makes her heart flutter.

For Joe isn’t too different, she’s had her red cheeks, her eyes wide open in surprise but unable to move from his face making him nervous but impossible to contain the smile and her button lip bitten, just a little bit is dead to him.

If he would dare, he would just need to lean towards and kiss her; she was just a few centimeters of distance. She wouldn't step back, she would accept it and follow him...

If they had one more second…

Monet came out of the blanket sniffing around making Y/N finally take her distance taking a deep breath calming her breath and her heart.

Monet walks around the bench making Y/N stands trying to get herself together one more time, but it takes more time than usual. 

Joe won’t let it pass that chance, he simply can’t.

“Y/N, can w…” His words stuck in his throat when Monet barks jumping around Y/N in a clear sign of joy.

A squirrel comes running down a tree; fun fact, Monet is a fan of the squirrels; he rarely sees one in the city but in Y/N fathers house, he can see them daily.

“Did I ever tell you Monet loves squirrels?” Y/N laughs seeing Monet's front legs stretch and his but up in the sky, he wants to play with the squirrel. “Sorry baby, these are fancy ones.” 

The squirrel sees Monet and runs back in the tree, making Monet whining standing in the tree. 

“Let’s go baby.” Y/N takes the leash of her bag skim Joe chest with her arm. “It’s time for Joe to go training, right?”

Joe nods, the time has passed. <Damn it squirrels.> He cursed in his mind.

“Take some rest Joe, I know you love being locked in the office but, just take a rest.” Y/N smiles with press lips.

Monet waits in front of Joe as he patted his head, making him giggle. “Take care of her, ok? She’s getting more cuts in those fingers.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes feeling the 3 band aids Joe put on her a few minutes ago. “Yes, sir.” 

Joe laughs seeing Y/N walks with their matching black bandanna; Monet around his neck, she over her head.

Joe follows her until she gets lost in the few snowflakes falling from the sky, with a burning sensation over his chest where she skims with her arm.

With another win against Browns and without noticing Nora has planted a seed that is starting to grow.

For Y/N it could be just a simple act that she finds endearing but for Joe means a lot.

After a long day Y/N sent Joe a chubby drawing of him; it could be one moment in the sidelines, he on the field, after the game, in the press conference, but Y/N knows is the moment that left her more breathless.

Nora mentioned how amazing her chubby drawings are; small bodies, big heads with cute expressions. Y/N did one for Nora one day while she was doing homework biting her pencil as she tried to balance a chemical thing.

Nora loves it and she just mentioned randomly, how amazing it is and she probably could have tried with another model, pointing Y/N’s cell phone with the lock screen light on.

Win on the pocket and a lot of big men in the locker room, Joe must use his hoodie to hide the big smile and the blushing face when Y/N sent him the sketch of him being lifted by Mims, both of them with cute expressions and small bodies.

Trey raises his eyebrows when he turns around to find Joe hiding in his hoodie.

“Joe, everything is fine?” Joe confirms with his thumb, yes. “Sure?”

Ja’Marr helps his friend. “My man is red with joy.”

Joe slid in the seat before peeking one more time at the image on his phone, giggling as he closed his eyes.

In Cincinnati, Nora and Savannah are high five silently as they observe Monet laying on the carpet but his head straight, choking to the left seeing Y/N biting her lip with a pen between her fingers and a tablet in her lap making zoom to what she just drew.

“Is she in love?” Nora whispers to her sister.

Savannah breathes in taking the out for serving the lunch, taking the napkin and sliding it to Nora.

A simple pinky heart in the corner. “And she colored it with a raspberry.” Nora smirks.

[fuck-customers]

For fucks sake, could people PLEASE stop making jokes about anything to do with their weight, their health, or their vices at the drive-thru speaker? It's not funny, it's awkward for the cashier and incredibly annoying. Also, THE CASHIER DOESN'T GIVE A RAT'S HAIRY ASS!!!

----------

While I'm here, a few other complaints:

Turn off (or at least turn down) the speakerphone built into your car. I can't hear you over your idiot friend's Beavis and Butthead laughter. I really don't want to hear your phone flirting with your s/o either. And I REALLY don't need to hear details of your relative's gallbladder surgery or anything else of that sort (Best idea: GET OFF THE FUCKING PHONE WHILE YOU'RE IN THE FUCKING DRIVE-THRU!!)

If I ask a yes or no question ("would you like...", "did you say....") just say yes or no. "That's fine" or "Okay." makes me think I misheard you and you're just settling for whatever I thought you said, even if it's wrong. Why is it so hard to just say yes or no?

If I ask how many of something, just say a fucking number. I'm asking for a number because I've been instructed to, not because I'm giving you a hard time.

Don't ever ask me to choose something for you. Don't say "surprise me". I don't know you or what you like, and if I pick wrong you're gonna get mad at me for what I picked. Nope, not falling for that.

Do not ask me for calorie amounts, allergen content, or any other nutrition information. I am legally not allowed to give that kind of information. The only answer you will get is the one I've been instructed to give, the only one I'm legally allowed to give: "All of that information is available on our website, [restaurant name].com."

Finally, I don't need to know who everything is for or why. I really truly do NOT fucking care if the meal is for your kid or the burger pattie is for your dog. Just tell me what you want and let's go. (The only exception is if you order a chocolate dessert and then say it's for your dog. Then I will be getting a manager to handle you because I cannot in good conscience let you do that.)

Posted by admin Rodney

[aroace-hedgehogs]

▵ pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favorite line [source]

In order of when they were posted (so far):

April to our deathbed / We're always on the upswing, baby

But Shadow's tongue was bitter as he pulled Sonic closer, trapping him against the white of his chest as if he knew of the fear of inevitable distance. He pried Sonic's mouth open, dipping Sonic's head as if he were downing every bit of metaphorical blood that poured from the blue blur's fretting heart.

Hunger of the Very Special Kind

But it's starving and wants nothing more than to consume Shadow the Hedgehog piece by piece like a full-course meal. To take and take and take until there is nothing but them as one. One being, one creature, one as dawn breaks and the earth splits into two. When time washes away, all that is left is their singularity, their hunger, and their neverending want. One in life as they are one in death.

Bleeding Heart

He wished he could tear open his chest and hear the cracking of his ribs as they split through skin and fur at the force of his nimble, precise fingers rocketing through. Feel the blood bubble up his throat and pour out of him in damnation, painting his fur as red as his quills, his eyes. The aged, crusted, dried blood under his nails won't remove themselves, no matter how hard he scrubs away the memory. To feel the way he slides his fingers inside to rest on his heart, the thing that feeds into the sickness that has never stopped ailing him since his creation.

Dancing Beneath The Vultures

"You live in a way I never knew anyone could or love in ways I never thought possible." Amy cups Sonic's face, rubbing the peach fur to reveal his hidden scars and tilting his chin to meet her firm, honest gaze. "I'm here because I never want you to lose yourself into becoming just a hero. Sonic The Hedgehog is more than a hero; he isn't perfect and sure isn't supposed to please everyone, no matter how hard he wants to, just so he can save the world over and over again. Because his heart is so much bigger than he'll ever admit, bigger than the world he loves like he's been one with it since he was born."

Who Do You Lay With At Night?

Shadow was created from the same stardust as Sonic. They are magnetized to one another and drawn closer and closer by the atoms that have known each other from times that neither could ever hope to remember.

I'm still written in his arm / Six years between the thing he wants

A tentative hand gently presses at the gnarly wound, lingering when Shadow tenses, muzzle wrinkling up to bare his fangs at the pang. Sonic's other hand comes up, sliding against the back of Shadow's hand, still gripping his face and gently tugging it. Shadow obeys and lets go. Allowing Sonic to lean forward to take the shredded cloth into his mouth and pull, undressing him until his hand is bare between them.

+

"Why?" Shadow whispers. Sonic leans back, pressing his bare hand to Shadow's chest, on his white, fluffy fur, right over his heart. "You."

There's Blood Between My Knees

It's so bloody, it's ruthless and disgusting, and Shadow wants more of it, wants to be torn apart with all the determination Sonic gives when he peels away muscle, breaks veins, and faces Shadow's ribs head-on. The ebony hedgehog is sure that if he were capable of dying, he wouldn't mind dying like this, with the night's chilled air brushing into his insides, Sonic's hot breath ghosting over parts that no one else is supossed to see, to hold. But Sonic does; he bows his beautiful head, and kisses bloodied ribs. Every single one. Like they're precious, something irreplaceable, something to be worshipped, regarded and admired.

You Tell Me I'm A Star, But Look At You

Sonic can only watch as his bare hand is held in another's, and Shadow's tenderness and attention squeeze at his heart and pull at his lungs. It's so kind, caring, bordering sweet when so much of their relationship is messy and harsh. But, in truth, Sonic doesn't mind when he sees his other become lost in the details of his hand as if they were galaxies, uncharted maps. 

Would You Take My Heart

Would Shadow slip his heart from his chest like Sonic has? With the beating organ in his sharp, deadly mouth and swallow it down whole? Would their hearts lay together in the same body, forever near and never apart, or would they bow their heads into each other's chest cavity and curl inside it. Melding together into something incomprehensible.

Understand, I Cannot Be Like You

"I can't! I don't feel anything!" Sonic hits his chest between his twin scars, trembling as years of repressed anguish explode out of the ache of his heart. "I get it! It's wrong! It's not normal! But I'm not normal, Amy, and I thought you'd get that! I thought that you'd trust me!"

+

It was tradition, purpose, pride, and perfect judgment. Romance was not a choice; it was duty.

Show Me Those Pretty White Jaws

Stars glitter in his quills as he grins, his laughter weakening Shadow's knees as the moon leans close. A hand cradles Shadow's cheek, loving and warm, before resting upon his chin. Worn yet soft fingers tilt his head up, taking up the limited space between them, between Shadow and this effortless being that demands his very essence, pulling him towards that ever-burning yearning.

But you come back with gravity / And when I call, you come home

The star answered back with a broken scream that rang solely in Sonic's ears and had the hero leaping into the forest and running towards it before its crash into the island rattled the ground. Leaving Sonic fighting to keep his footing, eyes refusing to drift away from where he'd last seen the star.  And he felt it, felt the way his body screamed in time with the smoke that filled the sky, the way he could only feel the anguish, the heartbreak, the air on his back, the searing of the sun, the never-ending pain that threatened to tear him apart over and over and over—

Sticks Sense

Sonic grasps Tails' cheek, pressing their foreheads together again, closing his eyes as he lets Tails hold their hand to his fluffy chest. The moment feels oddly familiar, and Sonic can't help but feel the same honest determination he had with Shadow many days ago. When he had held his body close and confined in him over the death of a person that Sonic still didn't know beyond a name and that so much of Sonic's actions reflected her own, hurting the ebony hedgehog to be on the receiving end of. And just like Sonic understood Shadow's pain then, he understood Tails'.

I turned around, there was nothing there / Yeah, I guess the end is here

"Listen to me, okay?" She brushes a hand through quills that instinctively relax under her hand to keep her safe. There are tears, and Shadow feels blinded by all the red when he only wants to memorize the blue of her dress. "You were made to protect the world, to help people. You were made to be something. But that doesn't mean that is all you'll ever be. No matter what anyone tells you, Shadow the Hedgehog, you are your own person. You live how you want, be who you want. You are great because you exist and mean something to me. And you'll mean something to the people you'll meet after me."