#sad to see none of my questions were answered but some of them were very very good :)

[officersnickers]

Me: Hinted Ratri-connections for Norman throughout the manga... interesting concept but never really made reality

Also me: Norman and Lord Geelan share a lot of similarities... neat!

Shirai: James Ratri and Lord Geelan would make terrible bosses due to their shared behavior.

Me:

Shirai and Posuka's answers to fan questions: Bonus asks

This is the last one!

Shirai and Posuka have sent messages of gratitude along with the answers.

Link to source in case the images are blurry: x

If you're wondering when Norman's IDs were mixed up

Amaguri no Neverland/Sweet chestnut Neverland was a collaboration event from 2018. A food stall in Shibuya sold roasted chestnuts with free stickers of TPN to celebrate the anime announcement. Here's the official site. The stickers are basically manga panels with the quotes changed to something related to anime announcement celebration lol

Shirai and Posuka already hinted at special plans for the 10th anniversary celebration back in 2021. Personal guess is the PV release of Amazon live action that's currently under production. Better than nothing, I suppose.

[milla-frenchy]

October

2k3 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: autumn is here, and you always loved that season. This year, you will probably love it even more Warnings: none, fluff. Meet cute, soft!Javi, book lovers, cats, alt POVs. No age specified.

a/n: this is written for @jolapeno & @goodwithcheese 's fall challenge. I ordered Peña’s Pumpkin Latte and A fall walk 🎃🍂🍁

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing and everything, as always 💕🫶 dividers @steddiecameraroll-graphics 🙏

Autumn has always been your favorite season. The cooler temperatures, cardigans, blankets on the couch. The thicker socks. You loved staying in and watching the leaves fall from your couch. Drinking coffee or hot chocolate, your cat on your lap.

You also loved going to bookstores or cafes, walking on the fallen leaves on the ground. Listening to their crunch under your feet. The streets painted in a mix of red, orange, brown colors were beautiful. The first rains didn't even bother you.

That Saturday, you took your notebag and the book you were currently reading and headed to one of your favorite places. To get a coffee sprinkled with chocolate powder, and to eat some of those ghost-shaped cookies that the owner cooked every year, from October to November. You finished your book there and decided to get a new one, so you walked to your usual bookstore. The one where the owner's cat sleeps on the books. He's beautiful, black and white. He lets you scratch his ears every time you go there, purring so hard that it always makes you smile.

It started to rain and you forgot your umbrella, so while waiting for the rain to stop, you picked three books from the shelves, and sat down in one of the armchairs to choose one of them. You turned the pages and the smell of old paper rose up to your nostrils. You loved that scent.

“Good choice,” you heard.

You turned your head towards the man who just spoke to you. Dark hair, mustache, black coat. He had two books in his hand. You'd never seen him there before.

“Your book,” he added to answer your questioning look, pointing at it. “It’s one of my favorites.”

His smile was warm, friendly. His eyes were a curious contrast of seriousness mixed with a twinkle.

“Oh, right, the book,” you replied, smiling. “Yeah, I’ve read great reviews about it. I just finished my last one and I am looking for a new one.”

“It's bittersweet, a little sad but very beautiful. If you're not afraid of a rollercoaster of emotions, it's perfect.”

“Well, I’m gonna follow your advice and buy it. Thank you…?” 

“Javi,” he responded, smiling again.

“Thank you, Javi,” you replied, and told him your name. “The rain has stopped, I’m gonna go. Have a good day!”

“Thanks, you too.”

You paid for the book and left quickly, seeing that new threatening clouds were approaching.

On Sunday, you walked to the park near your house. The weather was way better that day, the sky all blue. You sat on a bench sheltered by hedges that had grown well since last spring, put a blanket you brought on your knees and began reading  your book. 

You started it the night before, and you were glad you followed the advice of that man, Javi. The book suited your tastes perfectly. 

You stayed in the park until it started to get a little chilly, the blanket not enough to keep you warm, then you gathered your things and left. 

On your way back home, a curious black kitten approached you. Its fur was a bright contrast to the orange leaves on the ground.

“What are you doing here all alone, kitty?” you asked him, crouched and scratched his chin. He rubbed against your legs, purring, then left as quickly as he‘d arrived.

As you got up, you saw Javi on the other sidewalk and waved at him.

“Hi!” he greeted you, walking towards you. “You enjoyed some quiet time in the park?” he asked, pointing at your blanket.

“Yeah, I wanted to enjoy the nice weather. I go to the park every Sunday afternoon when I can. I started to read the book!” you added.

“Oh great! What do you think?”

“I really love it so far. Thank you for the recommendation.”

He smiled at you. He was cute. And handsome.

You smiled at him too. And for a few seconds you were just smiling at each other. Those slightly silly smiles that you share when you meet someone and want to know them better.

“I was going to have a coffee, do you wanna come?” he finally asked you, breaking the silence.

“Sure.”

You had never usually had coffee with strangers, but you felt like you already knew him a little. As if the fact that you had the similar tastes in books had helped you to take the leap.

He told you he always drank black coffee, but wanted to try something new, so he ordered a pumpkin spice latte. You laughed when you saw him wrinkle his nose after tasting it.

“I’m gonna stick with my usual,” he chuckled.

You spent the afternoon there, talking about whatever you could think of. Your jobs, your families, your lives, your hobbies. He had moved into the neighborhood a couple weeks ago and didn't know anyone there.

You parted ways, saying “see you soon”.

The following Saturday, you hoped to run into him. At the bookstore or at the café. Or in the neighborhood. You didn't see him and you were a little sad about it. You had often thought about him during the week.

On Sunday, you went to the park. It was a beautiful autumn day. To your pleasant surprise, Javi was waiting for you. With pastries and two coffees.

“Too creepy?” he asked with a cute, almost shy smile, as you stopped surprised in front of him.

“No… too cute,” you grinned, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He was dressed in black. Coat, sweater, pants. He was really handsome. You couldn't believe he was waiting for you there, that he remembered what you said about loving to come there every Sunday afternoon.

You drank your coffees and ate the pastries, sitting on the bench, your blanket on both of you.

He told you he bought furniture the day before, that he finished putting it together late at night. As if he was trying to explain why you didn't see each other yesterday.

“I'm glad to see you today,” you told him.

“Me too.” He looked at you, his eyes landing briefly on your lips. Smiling shyly afterwards, as if to apologize.

You saw each other for the next three weeks, every Saturday and Sunday. Doing fall walks to the cafe, bookstore, park. Every day of the week, you looked forward to the weekend. Aware that you were slowly falling in love with Javi, even if you didn't show it. You weren’t sure if he had feelings for you.

One day, you didn’t know what pushed you to do it, but you couldn't resist and you kissed him under your umbrella. He had just caressed your cheek, and his eyes were the only thing you were able to see. As if everything else had disappeared. 

He kissed you back, his lips pressing against yours, his soft mustache against your skin. You didn't talk about it, didn't want to. You just loved being with him and everything had been perfect so far.

He was always calm, reassuring and didn't rush you. You liked that he didn't feel compelled to fill in the blanks in your conversations.

“Did you see that the café is closed for renovations next Saturday?” he asked at the park, that last Sunday.

“Yes…” you looked down at your feet. You didn’t want to spend a Saturday without seeing him, so you gathered some courage. “Would you like to come and have coffee at my place?”

“I’d love to,” he added quickly, as if he was relieved to know you wanted to see him too.

You gave him your address, and added, “it's the last house on the right. The one with the pumpkins, electric garlands and candles in the living room window.”

He smiled and said “see you Saturday, Hermosa,” before leaving.

Javi wasn’t expecting to meet anyone with whom everything seemed so easy. Not so fast, not so smooth. That Saturday at the bookstore, he saw you a few seconds after the bell on the door rang, announcing an entrance. Always used to analyze every situation, every noise around him. He had done nothing but that for decades. Some habits were hard to break.

You went straight to the cat sleeping on the books, awake as soon as you had lulled him with your soft words “hey kitty, how's your day going? You're such a good boy, always taking care of those books. You love their smell, don’t you? I love it too.” 

He heard the cat purring from where he was. Javi wasn't a cat person, he preferred dogs, but found it rather cute, that loud purring sound.

He had thought back to Puff, Steve and Connie's cat. Fucking sicarios.

His years at the DEA would haunt him for years, probably for his entire life, he knew it. He had tried to work on his father's ranch, but everything reminded him of the DEA. His childhood, his teenage bedroom. The discussions with his parents about his desire to join the agency. Lorraine. He wondered what he had missed, even though he did not regret his years in Columbia. He had done the best he could.

He had thought that maybe he would recover faster if he left Laredo. If there were fewer people who spoke Spanish around him. He needed a change of life, so he had moved to the other side of the country.

And then you arrived in his life, kind of. 

When he saw you, holding his favorite book in your hands, his heart skipped a beat. There were two other books on your lap, but you were looking at his favorite. He didn’t hesitate long before coming up to talk to you. As if that book was some kind of a sign that he had to meet you.

On Sunday, he saw you sitting on a bench in the park, immersed in the book. He didn't want to disturb you, so he waited for you to leave and came to meet you while you were crouching next to a cat in the street. You really were a cat person.

The smile you gave him reached his heart a little too fast. As if you were a constant in his new life. Already. 

It could seem silly, he didn't know you. But he didn't really remember what a normal life was, either. With no drugs, no guns, no threats, no deaths. You were none of that. Maybe that was the reason why he never felt the urge to be grumpy or sassy around you.

The following Saturday he went to buy the last pieces of furniture he was missing in his apartment. He started to assemble them, without realizing how much time was passing. Until he saw that night had almost fallen. He ran to the café, to the bookstore, to the park, but he didn't see you. It was too late.

He cursed between his teeth, and hoped to meet you the next day. Yes, the next day, if the weather was nice, he would go to the park.

He smiled when he woke up the next morning, seeing the blue sky. He waited for the afternoon, then bought two coffees and some pastries. Hoping that you would be there.

You greeted him with a big, beautiful smile when you saw him. Thanking him for what he had brought. And damn, you had a charming smile.

Then, you saw each other every weekend, all October. Each week passed too slowly for his liking, while each moment in your presence passed at the speed of light.

One Saturday, in that café, he didn’t even realize that he had rested his head on his hand, turned towards you, and that he was drinking in your words. You were so close. It made you smile shily. He wondered if you were as enamored as he was. 

But he didn't want to move too fast, didn't really want to know if you were. It had been a long time since he had spent such moments with a woman. Someone who wasn't related to his job. Since high school, probably?

He didn’t want to know, but when you came out of the cafe and it started to rain, you opened your umbrella and offered him a cover rom the rain under it. Your eyes plunged into his, and he couldn’t resist the urge to brush your cheek covered in a few drops of water with his thumb. Your eyes slid from his eyes to his lips, and you bit yours. He didn’t move, not wanting to break the moment. Not wanting to go too fast. But he let you get closer to him, until your lips landed on his, offering the softest kiss he had ever received. He felt his cock throb, tightened in his pants. It was happening to him more and more when he was with you, but he didn't want to think about it. He wanted to put his arm around your shoulders to protect you from the cold, but he didn't dare. 

Though, he couldn't help himself from resting his hand on the small of your back, brushing it over your coat. He felt you getting closer to him and you walked without speaking. The silence wasn't awkward at all, and he loved that.

That last Sunday, when you offered him to have coffee at your place, he didn’t hesitate for long. He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to take his time anymore.

He knocked on your door and when you opened it, he held out a book.

“This is my second favorite, if you want to give it a try,” he said. As if he was not really talking about giving a try to that book, but to him.

You smiled, pulled him by the collar towards you and kissed him.

He definitely didn’t want to take his time anymore, and apparently neither did you.

Javi p masterlist

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring @iamasaddie @itwasntimethatdidit40

[pinkchwrryyy]

𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐒𝐃 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 (●’◡’��)ﾉ

✦𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: Bungou Stray Dogs

✦𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dazai Osamu x Afab! reader

✦𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: You’ve just got home from a very tiring day at the Agency when you see someone sprawled onto the couch, and that someone is, of course, your colleague Osamu Dazai.

✦𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: one-shot, prompt

✦𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, hurt/comfort

✦𝐓𝐖: none

✦𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: none

⚠️𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭⚠️

You are my new pillow!

Yokohama at night always had a certain charm to it—the streets quieter, the neon lights casting a soft glow over the sidewalks, and the occasional sound of a distant car cutting through the stillness. It was moments like these that you found peace, when the city’s usual chaos dimmed to a low hum, giving you a chance to catch your breath.

After another long day of working alongside the Armed Detective Agency, you were thankful to finally get some rest. The latest case had been exhausting, a wild chase involving rogue ability users, more than a few close calls, and—of course—Dazai Osamu’s endless antics.

As you walked back to your small apartment, your mind wandered to the enigmatic man who had become a constant presence in your life. Dazai was… difficult to pin down. He was brilliant, yes, but also frustrating beyond belief. One minute, he was solving a life-or-death situation with calculated precision, and the next, he was trying to coax you into some absurd suicide pact, wearing that maddeningly charming smile of his.

But despite his quirks—perhaps because of them—he had grown on you. There was a sadness beneath the surface that you couldn’t ignore, a darkness he hid behind jokes and flirtation. And somewhere along the line, you had started to care for him more than you ever intended.

Your thoughts were interrupted as you reached your door. With a tired sigh, you unlocked it, stepping inside the familiar warmth of your home. You flipped on the lights, planning to head straight to your bed for some well-deserved sleep.

But as you took off your coat and walked into the living room, you froze.

There, sprawled out on your couch like he owned the place, was Dazai Osamu.

His coat was draped lazily over the armrest, his dark hair tousled as if he had just woken up from a nap. One arm was thrown over his eyes, while the other rested against his chest. He looked completely at ease, as though he had been waiting for you.

“Dazai!” you exclaimed, startled by his sudden appearance. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

Without bothering to lift his arm, Dazai replied in a lazy, sing-song voice, “Ahh, you’re finally home. Took you long enough.”

You glared at him, even though you knew by now that he was impossible to stay mad at for long. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He peeked out from beneath his arm, flashing you a playful grin. “I got bored, so I let myself in. You weren’t home, and the couch looked so comfortable. I couldn’t resist.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “You can’t just break into people’s homes, Dazai.”

“I didn’t break in. You gave me a spare key, remember?”

“That was for emergencies,” you shot back. “Not for you to use whenever you feel like taking a nap on my couch.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, finally sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. “Well, in my defense, it was an emergency. I was exhausted after today’s mission, and I needed a place to rest my weary head.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “And what exactly was wrong with your own place?”

Dazai gave you a sly smile, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. “Your couch is much more comfortable than mine. Plus, it’s closer to you.”

That last comment made your heart skip a beat, though you tried not to show it. Instead, you huffed, walking over to the couch and pushing his legs aside so you could sit down. “If you’re going to be here, at least don’t take so much space.”

Dazai’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he shifted his position, moving closer to you until his head rested comfortably on your lap. “Ah, I see. You just want an excuse to stay closer to me?”

“Actually, no,” you said, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I want you to stop using my apartment as your own.”

He chuckled softly, making himself more comfortable by nuzzling into your lap. “Too late. You are now officially my new pillow.”

You stared down at him, half exasperated and half amused. He had closed his eyes again, a contented smile playing on his lips as if he had just won some unspoken battle. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, and the shadows of the dim living room light accentuated his sharp features. There was a strange serenity in his expression, one that you rarely saw in him—like for once, he wasn’t trying to hide behind his usual mask.

For a brief moment, you let yourself relax, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair. You had no idea how this had become your life—sitting in your apartment with Dazai Osamu using you as a pillow—but somehow, it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, it felt nice.

“So, is this what you had planned for the evening?” you asked, your voice softer now, teasing but genuine.

“Mmm,” Dazai hummed, his eyes still closed. “I didn’t have any specific plans, but this is much better than what I could’ve come up with.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied with a lazy grin.

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, the comfortable silence only broken by the occasional sound of the city outside. It was strange how natural this felt—being here with him, his head resting on your lap as if it were the most normal thing in the world. There was no pretense, no need for words. Just the quiet understanding that came with spending time together.

But as the peaceful silence stretched on, you couldn’t help but wonder what was really going through Dazai’s mind. He was always so guarded, always keeping people at arm’s length. Yet here he was, allowing himself to be vulnerable, if only for a moment.

“Dazai,” you began hesitantly, your fingers still gently combing through his hair, “why did you really come here tonight?”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond. You thought he might ignore the question or deflect with another joke, but when he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before.

“Because sometimes… it’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t expect anything from you,” he murmured, his eyes still closed. “Someone who lets you be… just you.”

His words caught you off guard, and you felt a tightness in your chest. You had always sensed that Dazai carried more weight than he let on, that beneath his playful exterior was a man burdened by his own demons. But hearing him admit it—admit that he sought out your presence for comfort—made your heart ache for him.

“Well,” you said quietly, “you don’t have to pretend with me.”

Dazai opened his eyes, looking up at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. For a moment, the playful mask slipped away entirely, and you saw the loneliness in his gaze. It was fleeting—gone as quickly as it appeared—but it was enough to remind you that, beneath it all, Dazai Osamu was just as human as anyone else.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he closed his eyes again, his voice returning to its usual playful tone. “Good. Because I fully intend to keep using you as my pillow.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Of course you do.”

But even as you laughed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this moment than either of you were willing to admit.

And as Dazai settled in your lap, content and at peace, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—you had become something more than just a comfortable pillow to him.

[factual-fantasy]

If you don't mind me asking, what kinds of things happened with the Octonauts fandom? I know that the fandom can get really weird, even as an average person in the fandom, but I imagine that it's way worse for you since you're such a big artist.

It's sad that certain people end up pushing away cool people who also enjoy the show and characters just because people are freaks and can't keep their hands off of a kids show :/ even if they're not gross about it, people are so weird and sometimes aggressive??? It's an animated show about animal characters that save other creatures and teach important life lessons!!! What even is there for these people to be weird about, anyway?

I hope you're doing okay, just in general!!! :D It seems that the Creator's Curse™ has hit quite literally ALL of my favorite content creators this year. You were the first of many to have health issues </3

I hope you get better soon!

The Octonauts fandom, while there was a lot of support and kindness within it, had also had a looooot of baggage..

For one, art theft. I have had mountains of people stealing and reposting my Octonauts artwork. Almost more than my FNAF stuff I would say..

There's also the art tracers. I've called out multiple people for blatantly tracing my art and they refused to stop or take down their posts. I'm sure they were young, but that doesn't make it any more tolerable or less annoying..

Also people snagging all my designs and head cannons. There have been several people who copied my redesigns for the Octonauts line for line. Also people snagging my AUs name for name. Tagging things as sea dwellers and saying their post was canon. Even claiming to have made the au themselves. Despite the fact my specific designs are in their post and the plots I wrote are in there..

But it doesn't stop there. I've been called transphobic for not head cannoning Calico Jack and Kwazii be trans. I've been called homophobic for not shipping Barnacles and Kwazii together, and for not shipping any of the Octodads together. I've been questioned several times why I don't want my Octonauts posts to be tagged ship.

Then there's the crab comic. Despite it being around 3 years since i dropped the comic, I still get people harassing me and calling me horrible things for not finishing it. I have explained again and again and again that I do not want to continue that comic. Yet people will wont leave me alone about it.

I've kept a lot of this behind the scenes. None of my followers need to see all that negativity, and I'm sure some of them were trolls.. So most of this has gone down in my ask box, DMs, etc.

So to sum it up, my boundaries have been pushed a lot in the Octonauts fandom. I set up the Octonauts master post because I knew I wouldn't' have to update it for quite a bit since I don't plan to return to the fandom for a while. But that only resulted in more crab comic asks and unwelcome/demanding drawing requests. Even today my boundaries are still being pushed.

So until something in the fandom changes, or I find a way to interact with the fandom that wont result in all these pushed boundaries.. I plan to just drop the fandom and leave it be. I'll still answer peoples polite questions about it, but all the artwork I make for it will be private.

As a last note, woof. Have other artists gotten sick too? I've really lost my sense of time but I'm told I've been batting this health crisis for around 7 months. It feels waaaay longer than that.. but I guess its just 7 months.. I hope the other artists you know aren't sick for that long-

My health hasn't really gotten much better.. in fact I've gotten a lot worse. But if it is what they say, its not at all life threatening. Just very uncomfortable and makes me go a little nuts being copped up in my room all day 💀 I'm still working on it and hoping I finally see some improvement. I'll let ya'll know when I start to finally improve. 🙏

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Cracking of a Cold Heart

Summary: "Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad." – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Pairings: Dean x Reader (Reader's 1st person POV)

Warnings: None. Angst. Fluff.

Word Count: 2,804

A/N: So, while watching an episode of Criminal Minds the other day, the above quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was at the opening of the episode and it just struck me as very Dean. 😢 So, I had to write him something. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

“You're still awake?”

I asked the obvious question as I walked into the kitchen to see Dean sitting at the table, slowly swirling amber liquid inside a crystal glass.

He nodded. “Yep. You too.” 

“Yeah, I just came to get some water; it's so dry in this bunker, don't you think?”

Dean just grunted. 

“Maybe we could add some humidifiers, or something.” I said awkwardly.

A shrug was my only answer.

Dean's rough, coldness still made me nervous around him sometimes, especially when he was in an overly grumpy or frosty mood like this. Even though we'd been working together for a year and roommates for at least half that time, I always felt like I just annoyed the hell out of him.

I decided I should just go and leave him alone with his whiskey. I poured my glass of water quickly and nodded towards him as I left.

“K, goodnight.”

“Yeah, night.”

I went back to my bedroom, just down the hall from Dean's, and sighed as I walked through the door. I really wanted things to be different. I wanted to make him like me.

Actually, what I really wanted was to make him love me.

But I'd settle for getting more than grunts and one word answers from him most of the time. 

He’d always been gruff with me, never seemed to want me around. It was always Sam that let me know about hunts and invited me along. And every time I joined them, Sam had to fight his brother to let me leave the car when they got out to fight the bad guys.

He clearly thought I was a shitty hunter too. 

So, he'd surprised me with how quickly he'd agreed to let me stay at the bunker when I told the boys about a demon I was dealing with that seemed particularly fixated on me. Sam convinced me it was safest there and Dean had agreed, though he was scowling the whole time. I couldn't help but think he only let me stay cause he didn't want me to die.

Not wanting me to die wasn't exactly friendship, but I supposed it was better than not caring one way or the other. So, I'd agreed to move in. The demon had been taken care of quickly with the boys help, but I stayed on.

I liked it there, and despite Dean's usual attitude towards me, I was happy in the bunker. Sam and Dean were funny and their dark, sarcastic humor, especially Dean's, often made me laugh in situations that would otherwise demand only horror.

It was also the safest I'd ever felt. 

Because no matter how he felt about me, I knew beyond a doubt that Dean would always have my back and look out for me. That was just the kinda guy he was.

If only I could actually make him want me around.

An idea dawned on me as I climbed back into bed. Maybe that was why Dean wasn't warming up to me. Maybe he felt like I was overstaying my welcome there. It made sense; they'd invited me to stay while I was in danger, and then I just never left.

I was embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of it earlier. I would talk to the boys in the morning, I decided, and then fell into a restless sleep, thinking about where I'd end up when I left.

The next morning I walked into the kitchen to see Dean sitting at the table in the exact same spot as the night before, his whiskey replaced with a cup of coffee. 

“Morning.” I said shyly.

“Mmm.” Dean said around his cup as he took a sip. 

I started to get things together to make my breakfast, looking over my shoulder. “I'm making oatmeal, did you want some?”

Dean shook his head. “N’ah. M’good.” He mumbled in his deep, craggy voice, staring at the table. 

“Okay.” I said, sighing at his usual taciturn answer.

I put the water on to boil, salting it slightly, and then turned back to him just as he stood up and walked towards me. He drained his cup along the way and then reached past me to put it in the sink.

I made the mistake of taking a deep breath as he leaned close and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. God, why did he always have to smell so good? Why did he have to radiate warmth from his big, broad, flannel-covered chest, so that I desperately wanted to cuddle into him. 

Completely unaffected, Dean turned to leave, but I put my hand out, touching his arm to stop him from going. I could feel an almost imperceptible flinch from him and I pulled my hand back, embarrassed that he was literally recoiling from my touch.

“Sorry.” I said as my cheeks got pink. “I was wanting to talk to you and Sam. Do you know when-” 

Just then we could hear the screech of the bunker door as Sam returned from his morning run.

“Perfect timing.” I said with an awkward chuckle.

I left the kitchen, glad that Dean followed so I could talk to them both at once. We met Sam at the bottom of the stairs. He pulled out his ear bud, still breathing deeply. 

“Hey.” He said with a small smile. He looked back and forth between me and Dean. “What's up?”

“Oh nothing, really.” I said, waving away the conversation's importance. “I just wanted to talk to you guys. I've…well, I was thinking about it and I realized, I mean now that there's no demon tracking me, no one threatening me, I should probably move out. You know?”

Sam scowled and shook his head. “We're hunters, we're always under threat. This is still the safest place for you. Why would you leave?”

I shrugged. “Well, I mean, I've been here a long time.” Sam scoffed at that, but I continued. “And I don't wanna…you know. I just think I should get out of your hair.”

“Don't be stupid. You're not in our hair. You should stay. Right, Dean?” He asked his older brother.

I looked back at Dean and he didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the ground. Then he shrugged and looked up. His face was the same cold, indifferent mask I'd seen him wear so many times before. 

“If she wants to go, can't stop her.”

I smiled thinly, a small pinch of hurt starting in my chest. 

“Yep,” I said in a cheerful tone. “Can't stop me.”

Sam started to speak, but I waved him away. “No. Seriously, I should get my own place. But I really appreciate you guys letting me crash here for so long.”

I stood on tiptoe to give Sam a kiss on the cheek and then tossed Dean a smile which was all I could manage before taking off, heading back to my bedroom so I could start looking for a new place to live.

About an hour later, as I was on my computer looking at apartments, there was a light knock on my door.

“Come in!” I called, expecting Sam's tall frame to walk through. Instead the door swung open and Dean was there. 

I was shocked and I set my laptop down beside me on the bed, sitting up straight. Not once in the six months I'd lived there, had Dean knocked on my door; nor had he ever sought me out for anything.

“Hi.” I said lamely.

He nodded at me as he walked slowly into the room. 

We were quiet for a moment before I cleared my throat. “Do you need something?”

Dean pushed out his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“I, uh…I wanted to…Sam said that he thought you were…” He rolled up onto the balls of his feet a couple of times as he paused.

I raised a quizzical eyebrow and Dean scowled, pulling his hands out of his pockets so he could cross his arms over his chest. The flannel pulled tight across his shoulders and biceps, thoroughly distracting me. 

But then he spoke roughly and brought my attention back to him.

“Sammy thinks you're just leaving cause of me, so I need you to tell him it's not true.”

I wasn't surprised that Sam had read me so well, he wasn't easily fooled and I often thought he might know about my unrequited feelings for Dean. 

But I shook my head. “No, of course not. It's not you. It's just time.”

Dean nodded and looked away. “K well, tell my dipshit little brother that will you, so he gets off my back?”

He sounded angry and for some reason his anger annoyed me. I was moving out, leaving, just so that he’d be happy, and he still wasn’t. 

“Sure.” I attempted a teasing tone, but it didn’t really work. “I'll get right on it. Right after I find a new place to live.”

Dean scowled at me again, but this time I scowled back. 

Something seemed to occur to Dean and though his voice was rough, he sounded slightly shocked when he spoke. “You are leaving because of me. Why?”

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck like that. “Oh, I don't know Dean. I can't imagine why I'd think you don't want me around when you're always so warm and welcoming. Always so eager to chat and hangout. I must just be crazy!”

Dean's frown etched deeper on his brow. “So you're leaving cause I'm not acting like your bestie? I'm not friendly enough for you?”

“I’m leaving because you hate me and obviously don’t want me around!” I shouted.

Silence rang out and my embarrassment filled it. I stood up from my bed and brushed past him, calling back to him as I left.

“Look, don't worry about it. I'll tell Sam it's not your fault so he leaves you alone.”

I left quickly, but I wasn't sure where to go. I couldn't stay in my bedroom with Dean there, but I didn't want to run into Sam either. So I ended up hiding in the gym, hoping neither of them would find me there.

But that plan didn't work very well, since minutes later Dean strode through the door. I growled slightly in frustration. All I wanted was to avoid further confrontation about this.

My voice was quiet, trying to discourage any more conversation. “Look, let's just leave it alone, okay? It's fine.”

“No it's not.” Dean responded.

I let out a little huff. “I’ll be gone in a few days, and everything can just go back to normal for you guys.”

Dean stared at me. “No it won’t. I don't want you to go.”

I scoffed and stood up from the bench. “Dean, enough. I told you it's fine. I'll make sure Sam doesn't blame you.”

I walked towards the door, aware I was going to have to get past him to leave. I gave him a wide berth but he sidestepped to intercept me. 

“I don't want you to go.” He repeated quietly.

“Yeah, okay.” I said sarcastically. “If you say-” 

In a blink Dean grabbed hold of my upper arms and yanked me forward so that I stumbled into him, gasping. His mouth crashed down on mine and I squealed in surprise.

He kissed me hard and quick, stroking up into the roof of my mouth with his wide tongue and then ripping himself away from me.

He was breathing hard as he stared down at me and spoke in a rough whisper. 

“I don't want you to go.”

I just blinked at him, confusion overwhelming me. “What…what are you…what?”

“I don't want you to go.” He repeated for the fourth time. “But you should go. You should run long and far and never look back.” His voice sounded desperate.

I was so confused. “What are you talking about?”

He cupped my cheeks and kissed me again slowly, sweetly. I started to comprehend what was actually going on and I felt like my mind was going to explode. He left me reeling, my whole world turning upside down in disbelief as he pulled away from my lips to bury his face in my neck and kiss his words into my skin. 

“God, Sweetheart, all I dream about is you; you're all I see when I close my eyes. But you can't stay; you can't love me back.”

I listened to his words as I dropped my head back so he had better access to all the sensitive spots on my neck.

“…you can't love me back…”

My voice was breathless and bemused as I spoke. “But you don’t love me…you can't love me…you don't even like me.”

Dean pulled back to look me in the eye and I was shocked to see that his eyes were slightly glassy. I shook my head again, though I didn't know why I was trying so hard to deny his words when they were what I'd wanted to hear for so long. 

But I continued. “No, it’s not possible.” I said. “You don't like me. You're always angry at me, cold and distant. You think I'm a shitty hunter; I'm a burden and liability to have with you on cases.” 

I was shaking my head. “You leave me in the car!”

Dean closed his eyes and spoke quietly. “I leave you in the car because when you're with us I'm completely distracted trying to make sure nothing happens to you; I can't  do my job properly. And I'm cold and distant with you because…”

He opened his eyes slowly. “Because I know I can't have you.”

For the first time since I'd known him, I could easily read the emotion swirling in his deep, forest green eyes. And what I saw was just immense sadness.

He shook his head. “I can't have you.”

“What do you mean, you ‘can’t have me’? Says who?” I asked croakily, my throat constricted.

His jaw clenched and he looked away from me, over my shoulder. “Every single person that's been ripped out of my life since I was four years old. And the list is long, so very long. They're all telling me over and over that loving you is a selfish, impossible daydream. They're screaming at me from the grave, reminding me that trying to hold on to you is going to get you killed.” 

He was staring past me as though he could actually see the ghosts that haunted him, could hear their words of warning.

“You know,” I said with a sniffle as my eyes and nose started watering, “I think that might be the most you've ever said to me at one time.”

Dean let out a puff of air that wasn't quite a laugh, and he shook his head again. “I don't want you to go, but you should go.”

I swallowed several times, the tears still flowing as I realized that all of this was really happening. 

He loved me. Truly. 

Finally I dashed away my tears and sniffled again. “Not a chance, Dean Winchester. You say you love me? Well, great, cause I love you too.” 

He pulled in a stuttered breath and I could see the fear in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again and I took the chance to steal a kiss, pressing close to him and winding my arms around his neck. 

He let out what I hoped was a groan of capitulation and wrapped his arms around my ribs, squeezing me to him tightly and deepening the kiss. His tongue swept through my mouth, exploring every inch, pulling soft moans from the back of my throat as I raked my nails through his hair and he shuddered against me.

After kissing me senseless for several minutes, he broke it off so we could both suck air into our starving lungs. He rested his forehead against mine and I could still hear the sadness in his voice and it made my heart ache. 

“If you stay here with me, you can’t ever leave. Okay? Promise me if you stay, if we love each other out loud, promise me it'll be okay. That I won’t have to live without you, that you’ll always be safe.”

He touched my lips briefly with his, and then spoke against them, whispering. “I couldn’t take it. So promise. Even if it's a lie. Promise me anyway.”

“I promise.” I told him with my whole heart, and sealed it with a kiss.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 * @alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly * @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya * @arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

* @whimsyfinny * Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear * Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 * @waywardcheshire @libby99hb * Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 * @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester * @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-three

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 5.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: yayyyy s3 is here!! this has SO much potential and there is so much i want to do with this from here but i believe this will be the last season!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

You had the train car all to yourselves. Few peacekeepers were allowed to leave in the wake of the murders, and for that you were thankful. You were able to let Tybalt out to explore the car, but he mostly stayed on your lap.

You felt guilty about taking him, you didn't even want to ask until your mother insisted, and Coryo wouldn't deny you bringing him. You thought about maybe taking him to a vet when you arrived. There were hardly any in Twelve, none of which made time for domestic animals that weren't livestock of some kind. You had to assume that in the Capitol that was a completely different story, so maybe this would be good for him.

It was dark by now, and Coryo was fast asleep on the bench next to you, head pressed to the window. You suspect he hadn't slept at all the night before.

"Sejanus." You whisper. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." He replies quietly, sitting across from you at the small table.

"Are you okay?" Your question is met with a few beats of silence.

"I was meant to go with them." He whispers. "I didn't want to go back there."

"The Capitol?" You ask. "Why not?"

"It's not my home." He answers simply. You can hardly see his face in the dark, but you can tell he's sad. Grieving the life he could have had.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Sejanus?" You whisper, leaning forward to try and see him.

"Hm?"

"Was Lennox going too?"

"No." You can see the shadow of him shaking his head in the dark. "He was only going to bring some supplies for us out to the cabin at the lake and leave them for us to pick up on our way."

You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. He couldn't have left. You knew you couldn't bear it- and your parents would not cope well losing another child. You thought he wouldn't do that, but you weren't confident enough to say for certain. You'd much rather have a rebel for a brother than never see him again. Though, to you, helping friends was hardly an act of rebellion.

"What... what are you going to take?" You ask, hoping to change the topic. It was nice to have him talking again. "At the university, I mean."

"Medicine. I'd like to be a doctor, I think. I want to help people, maybe out in the Districts."

"Of course." You grin. "That's so like you. Your patients will be very lucky people."

"It'll never be enough." He shakes his head and you frown. "I can't help everyone. And everyone outside the Capitol needs it so bad. Did you know my father is the head of munitions in District Two? I'll never be able to make up for the pain my name has caused. Never."

"Well..." You look down at the cat curled up next to you. "You saved Tybs. I can't even tell you how much that means to me. Everything you do will mean so much to people. Even if it's just one person, I think that is more than enough. To try is more than enough."

You see the ghost of a smile twitch on his lips. "Thanks, Y/N. You're gonna do good things, too."

"How unhappy is he who cannot forgive himself."

Sejanus sighs. "Extremely."

A few hours later, it was your turn to sleep. At least, to try. It was hard to get comfortable, curled up on one of the benches with a bag of your clothes as a pillow and Tybalt insisting on sleeping on top of you.

You were just drifting off, you could hardly keep your eyes open, when quickly a nightmare jolts you awake. Bang! The sound of a gunshot- in your dream state you know it's the bullet that found a home in Cole Harlem. The next 'bang' was the sound of your head hitting the table next to you when you shoot back up, unintentionally scaring your cat off of your side.

You hiss, placing a hand on the side of your head and rubbing it through the pain. "Ow..."

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Coryo ask quietly, followed by footsteps across the centre aisle of the train car.

"Mhm." You hum, trying to squint to see him in the poor lighting. It must be almost morning- there's a blue wash beginning to paint over everything onboard, including his form as he's crouched down next to you.

"Let me see..." He says softly, hands already lifted ready to touch you. To see if he can help.

You move a little closer, dropping your hand so he can gently cradle your face in his larger ones, using a finger to turn your head to the side as he examines the bump on your temple.

It's impossible for him to see in this lighting, but if there was blood he would be able to tell. "Just a bump." He whispers. "You'll be alright."

You just nod slightly under his grip, eyes searching for his in the dark. Neither of you want to move. Being this close to you, having you come home with him is a gift he wouldn't dare miss by blinking too slowly or letting his hold on you drift.

"Nightmare?" He asks quietly and you just nod again. Without a word, you're moving back on the bench to the window and he is sliding into the spot next to you. "Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"

"No." You answer softly, giving a slight shake of your head.

"Can I ask what it was about?" He asks. "Tigris always told me talking about it helps."

You chew your lip, looking away from him and down at the empty table. "Cole."

Coryo tenses next to you, his jaw clicking from the small movement. "I... I am sorry." He doesn't know what to say besides that- and he feels like telling you that dirtbag deserved it would do little to help the situation.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper, voice mostly steady.

He nods, watching you expectantly. You take a deep breath. "I'm glad he's dead."

You must be a changed woman. It was hardly like you to say something like that- let alone feel it, but keeping it in would just keep you up at night. Coryo wouldn't hate you for it, you're sure.

He looks at you, head tilted while he confirms with himself that you did, in fact, just say the words he heard. You were the most gentle soul in Panem, he was sure, so what on earth could he have done to you to make you say something like that? Now he was more sure than ever that he did deserve it. "What did he do to you?" His gaze softens as it finds yours, and you slightly shake your head.

"It's... kind of a long story." You whisper.

"I have all the time in the world for you."

He sees the ghost of a smile tug at your lips, and you look down at your lap to process your thoughts. "He just... doesn't, didn't know how to take no for an answer." You try to explain it briefly, but the way Coryo's eyes widen makes you backtrack. "I mean, no. I'm sorry. He didn't hurt me. Well, he did, but not in the way that that sounded like." You take a deep breath. "He asked me if I would like to go on a date with him, and I said no, thank you, because I knew him and I knew he had a temper and I didn't think we would work. So, he would wait outside my school and follow me home everyday. He kept asking, I kept saying no, but he didn't listen. It only made him more mad."

It was a rare occasion that you felt so numb talking about someone who had died. "Then, about three months before the games, I guess he couldn't take the rejection anymore and he dragged me away and... I don't know how to describe it... beat me up. I suppose." You laugh dryly, only noticeable to Coryo because he was watching. "Lennox found us, really got into it with him and then had to literally carry me home with his own black eye and bleeding nose."

He nods slightly in understanding, holding himself together from throwing a fist through the window. He was right. That piece of human garbage did deserve it. Now he had every right to be glad he was dead, and so do you. It makes sense to him now, of course you'd only be pleased with a murder if it was someone who had hurt your brother- the fact that he had hurt you the way he did had nothing to do with it.

"You have every right to be happy." He tells you. "Shit, to be honest now I'm wishing I shot him myself."

"Coryo..." You sigh, frowning at him.

"Too far?" He laughs, and you can't help but join him.

"Yes!"

"'Kay, sorry, love. I'll keep it to myself." He raises his hands defensively, cocking his head to the side.

You're quiet for a moment. It's torturous for you both. "He's the reason I went in after you." Your voice is lowered now, noticeably. "He said that I had to go out on that date with him after you left, otherwise I shouldn't be shocked if my Pa ends up executed for treason."

Coryo swallows, staring at you in absolute shock. It just kept getting worse.

"I was terrified, I didn't know what to do, I couldn't be alone anymore. You would have left the next morning and I would have been with him. And I knew he wouldn't have let me talk to you ever again, and I was so scared you would hate me and you'd never know that I didn't have a choice."

"I could never hate you." He says, taking the calculated risk of reaching out to touch your hair, rolling the ends of the soft strands between his fingers. "It'd break my heart, but I wouldn't hate you."

"That's almost worse." You laugh quietly, eyes locked on his hand at your side.

"I'm glad you're coming with us. I don't know how I could live without you." He glances down at your lips, only a shadow in the dark as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Morning without you is a dwindled dawn." You agree, and that's all he can handle before he has to kiss you again.

He's so gentle when he holds your jaw in his hand and presses his lips to yours that you aren't sure if there really was a static shock that accompanied it or if that was just your body reacting to his skin on your own.

"I love you, Y/N/N." You almost swallow his words, smiling against his lips. "You know that, right?"

"I love you too, Coryo."

You tried to get as much sleep as possible over the two day ride, waking when the sun rises and you could feel the heat on your skin. You could see the tall buildings that made up the city in the distance.

People say that a ride back always feels faster, because you're familiar with the path; that your mind chooses to forget the uneventful sections. You believe it. The ride home had felt like it took an eternity, but this time it felt too fast. You were nervous; scared, more than excited. Even though this is supposed to be a good thing.

If Coryo had just asked if you would like to go with him, what would you have said? No matter how many hours you put into the question, you really don't know. Not until Cole threatened your family, anyways. You would have had to turn him down, then. Regardless, you were never given the privilege of a choice.

This isn't about him. You have to remind yourself. This is about saving your family, in more ways than one.

Maybe it really was a good thing that Cole was shot. You curse yourself for even thinking such a thing, but with him alive the only possible outcome was him having your father killed. You could only be the perfect girlfriend for so long- you knew him, one mistake from you and he would make true on his word. Then you would have to marry him in order to have another income. Your winnings from the games would only take you so far on your own.

You're not sure if it's the swaying of the train that's really making you sick.

You would get your answer an hour later when your train crossed the bridge over the river, and the Capitol was in full, glorious view.

You could physically feel the blood draining from your face as you stare out the window, unable to look away. You looked like a deer in headlights.

"Y/N/N?" Coryo hums, placing a hand on your leg. "You okay?"

You nod slightly, but you're hardly processing what's happening around you.

He frowns, leaning forward to be able to get a closer look at your face. You look like you're about to vomit or faint or both. "Look." He smiles, patting your leg and pointing out the window. "That tall building there, you see it?" You nod slowly, watching where he's pointing. "Up on the top floor there's a restaurant with big floor to ceiling windows that overlook the river and the mountains. It's beautiful." He's never been there, but he's heard it's incredible.

"And over there, that smaller, longer building is a mall." He tells you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and sliding closer as you continue to follow his hand. "On the outside there's this ice cream shop that makes the most amazing flavours. Literally anything you can imagine." He chuckles slightly. "I'll take you there."

You smile slightly, and the colour begins to return to your face with a slight rosiness in your cheeks.

"After the tunnel we'll pass the university." He grins. "It's a really nice campus, you'll love it there. They have a massive library."

You close your eyes as the train plunges into the darkness of the tunnel, nodding slightly.

"What would you like to do? We can go anywhere."

"I... today I'd just like to go home." You answer quietly.

"Of course, love. But another day, sometime in the future."

You think for a moment. "Is there a vet here?" You ask and he nods.

"I'd like to take Tybs to get looked at. He's not sick, or anything... but he's never been to the vet before so I'd just like to make sure he's in good health." You explain.

"Yeah, we can definitely do that." Coryo agrees. "And there's this bookstore that's three stories tall, you'll love it." He adds.

"Can I meet your cousin?"

"Yes, love. Of course. She'll live with us, you'll be the best of friends." Coryo explains, squeezing your shoulder. He hadn't yet considered you meeting his family, he didn't even have the chance to tell them you were coming. It would be fine, he knew that. They had the room and the funds to support another person now, that wasn't even a question. Tigris had been dying to meet you, wanting to know every detail about you before the games and especially in his phone calls home while he was in Twelve.

He realized suddenly that maybe he should be worried about his Grandma'am. He knew she had a prejudice against people in the Districts, she had voiced as much during his mentorship. She had even influenced a similar attitude in him his whole life- but you were different. You weren't like them, and she would have to learn that, but that didn't make him any less nervous about what she might say to you until then.

"I'm excited." You tell him, forcing yourself to only think about the good things to come.

Your hands are shaking as you pull into the station. You can already see it's a different one than you were pulled from last time, the first place you met Coryo. You grab your bags, holding the one containing Tybalt close to your chest as the door opens and you walk out. He wasn't too fond of getting back inside after having the freedom of roaming the train car, but you were grateful he was not a very temperamental cat.

Mostly, the station was deserted. There were a few peacekeepers here and there, but you still felt as though all eyes were on you.

You didn't notice when your friends were greeted by their waiting family members, still looking around and processing your surroundings.

"Y/N/N?" Coryo's voice brings you back to reality, and you realize you hadn't taken a single step away from the train yet. "Come here."

You smile as you walk over, eyeing who you assume to be his cousin.

"Hello, there." You grin, giving a slight wave but still holding tightly onto your cat.

"Y/N." Tigris smiles, her blonde hair draped over her shoulders in meticulously styled curls. "It's so amazing to meet you! I'm Tigris, Coryo's cousin."

"Yes, you as well." You nod, trying to mask your nervousness with a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm amazing, I am just so pleased you're here. What a great surprise!" She claps, and you take in her outfit. You've never seen such fine materials, outside maybe the silk scarf Coryo gave you that is now tucked in the old suitcase sitting next to his feet. You wonder if she made the clothes she was wearing, remembering he said she was a designer.

"Coryo has told me so much about you. I've been excited to meet you."

"I really wanted to come see you before the games but I couldn't get away from work, I'm so sorry this is the first time we're meeting." She says and you swallow, nodding slightly in response. "Will you be staying with us?"

"If... if that's okay." You say, looking to Coryo who nods.

"Of course that's okay." He answers on her behalf, but she nods in agreement.

"Yes, you're always welcome. We're so happy to have you."

"Thank you." You breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"We should get going, yeah?" Tigris says and you nod, adjusting your hold on the bag in your arms.

They start to walk, already talking about all the excitement of the trip when you get a tap on your shoulder. You jump slightly, turning and pulling your bag closer to your chest.

"Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to startle you." The woman smiling sadly at you must be Sejanus's Ma. He's standing with her, so it was the only assumption you could make.

"It's okay." You reply quietly, smiling at her politely.

"Y/N, this is my Ma." Sejanus introduces you, confirming your suspicions.

"Nice to meet you." You smile, and she brings her hands up to place on your shoulders, gently rubbing them.

"It's so good to meet you, dear." You feel so greatly comforted by her already. "Sejanus told me you would be staying for a while."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You call me Ma." She quickly corrects you, and you match her smile. You could cry- the burning behind your eyes is telling you that you just might. "We know damn well how hard this transition is, so if you need anything at all at any time, you call us. Okay? We'll help you however we can. With anything."

You smile at them, tears filling your eyes. "Thank you." You sniff, and she pulls you into a hug.

Graciously, and awkwardly with Tybalt still between you, you accept. You never want her to let go.

"Of course, dear. You'll always have a home away from home with us if you need it."

"I can no other answer make, but thanks, and thanks." You say, tears flowing now. You never seem to stop crying- but for the first time in a long time, it was from real happiness.

"Twelfth Night." Ma says as she pulls away, still holding your arms.

You laugh slightly, biting into your bottom lip and nodding. "Yes! You've read it?"

"I brushed up after Coriolanus came around asking for Romeo and Juliet." Ma shrugs, letting you go and letting Sejanus give you a hug as well.

"Coryo has our number. Call anytime, I mean it." He tells you and you nod against his shoulder. "But I'll see you soon, okay? We'll hangout all the time."

"All the time." You agree as he lets you go. "I don't want to keep them waiting, so..."

"Yes, of course. It was so good to meet you." Ma smiles.

"You as well, Ma. I'll see you soon I am certain." You wave goodbye and catch up to Coryo and Tigris, who stopped just a little ways away to wait for you. "Sorry..."

Tigris wipes the worried expression off her face. Coryo probably just had to explain why you were there. "Don't worry about it! Ready to go?"

"Yes." You grin, quickly wiping your eyes. "Lead the way."

There are so many things that you hadn't considered on the train ride. Such as, where was the nearest post office? Or how is Tybs going to handle being indoors constantly? You'll have to get him a litter box- you've never had one before since he was mostly an outdoor cat, and would he need toys now that there probably wouldn't be mice or birds for him to hunt?

Also, there was the immediately obvious fact that the stares you were getting were endless. People even stopped you asking for pictures on the way back- Coryo had to tell them no. Several times. It wasn't any longer than a twenty minute walk.

Everyone seemed so excited to see you, to talk to you. Or, talk at you, rather. It was uncomfortable, but it was so different than what you were used to at home. Especially after the games, people tended to literally cross the street to avoid talking to you. Here, it was the opposite. You were some kind of celebrity. You knew Capitol people liked the games, but you didn't know it was like this. You tried to be polite, but being celebrated for something so awful is hard to swallow. You almost preferred the shame that came with being avoided.

"Is it normally like that?" You ask quietly as you walk into the lobby of a tall building, the floors and pillars lined with white marble. You had never seen anything like it.

"I'm not sure." Coryo answers honestly. "You are the first Victor to ever come back, but like I said, people loved you. Thousands of people watched just for you. That's why I won the Plinth Prize- you boosted the viewership beyond what's ever been seen before."

"Oh." You answer simply, following them into a set of silver sliding doors in the wall.

"When we get up I'll make you something to eat, you guys must be starving." Tigris says as the mechanical doors slide shut again, and you tilt your head.

"Uhm... I-" Your question is halted by a steady shake of the small room you're in, and it feels like you're moving.

Coryo looks over at you and your wide eyes, furrowing his brow. "What's wrong?"

"Are we moving?" You ask, looking around. You're surrounded by mirrors, only seeing endless reflections of the three of you.

Tigris covers her mouth to hide her smile, and Coryo laughs. "Yes, love." The two of them look at each other briefly. "This is an elevator, in a second the doors will open and we'll be at our apartment."

"Oh, wow." You laugh slightly, in a small amount of shock.

"I didn't even think that you might not know what it is, I'm sorry." Coryo chuckles, gently rubbing circles onto your back as the doors slide open again and just like he told you, you were somewhere new.

"That's okay, I just have a lot to learn apparently." You giggle, shaking your head as you step out of the so-called "elevator". You look back inside it as the doors slide shut. "So, how does it work?"

"Honestly, I am not entirely sure of the mechanics of it but there's a motor up top, and when you press that button it lifts to you and then lowers to where you want to go." He explains as Tigris pulls out her key to unlock the door. "It didn't work for over ten years, so it's kind of new to me too."

He's trying to make you feel less embarrassed, and that makes you smile at him. "I see. That's neat."

"It is, isn't it?" Coryo grins. He was in absolute awe of you everyday, but now that he's realized that there are so many things you don't know, even as the smartest person he's ever met, and that he wants to show you absolutely everything. Had you even tried ice cream before? What else would be new to you? There were certainly no cars besides peacekeeper trucks in Twelve, not that he had seen anyways, so it must have been jarring for you to see civilian vehicles on the walk back. He should have asked.

As adorable that it was that there were things you had never seen before, it almost worried him in a way he hadn't considered before. You would need him around a lot- not that he minded one bit. He had liked that about the games, he knew where you were while you were caged up at the zoo and he could leave and come back with the comfort of knowing you would be there waiting for him.

His thoughts are interrupted when Tigris gets the door open, shouting for their grandma'am. He takes a deep breath, smiling as he holds the door for you. It is good to be home.

"We have company!" Tigris calls out as you walk in, and you look around focussed on keeping your mouth shut as not to physically gawk at their home. Their apartment was beautiful, with a somewhat open concept and halls that spun off in all directions from the main foyer.

"Oh, lovely! We haven't had company in ages. You should get the tea on, dear." You hear his grandmothers voice before you see her, sparing a glance at Coryo. If he's nervous, he doesn't look it.

She looks like the sweetest old lady, her white hair matching the shade of her silk robe and slippers. "Oh, Coryo!" She smiles, heading straight to him and giving him a hug. "How we have missed you..."

"I missed you too, grandma'am." He sighs, gentle as he hugs her back. When he lets her go, it seems like she has noticed you for the first time.

The excited smile on her face fades instantaneously as she looks you up and down. "Who's this?"

"This is Y/N. You remember I told you about her, right?"

"I do." She nods, a sour look on her face as she stares at you.

"Hello, you must be Coriolanus's grandmother, it is so lovely to finally meet you." You smile, readjusting your bag so you can hold it in one arm in order to extend your hand to her to shake. She doesn't take it. "You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Snow." You continue when she doesn't answer you, holding your smile and trying not to seem terrified. It was like the lead-up to the games all over again.

"What's in her bag?" She asks Coryo when she sees it move, ignoring you altogether as you awkwardly drop your hand.

"That's Tybalt, her cat. He's the softest thing, you'll love him." He smiles, an apologetic look in his eyes as he glances over at you. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

"A cat?" His grandmother gasps, taking a step back with a hand to her chest. For a moment, you were scared she was about to have a heart attack.

"Grandma'am, you love cats!" Tigris says, stepping back in from the kitchen with a kettle in hand. "Y/N, come join us in the sitting room. I'm just getting some snacks together."

"Not feral ones!" She replies, appalled.

"Oh, he's not feral, Ma'am." You assure her. "Unless you're a mouse or a bird, he's the gentlest animal alive."

"Coriolanus Snow how dare you bring these... these strays into our home!" Now she's talking like you aren't even there, and you can't help but laugh nervously.

You look away, anywhere but at either of them. Maybe you would be calling Sejanus and his Ma for somewhere to stay by the end of the afternoon.

"They aren't strays." He defends you quickly, frowning. Okay, this was what he was afraid of.

"Here, come sit, Y/N." Tigris says quietly, placing the kettle back down and guiding you out of the room with hands on your shoulders. "I am so, so sorry." She whispers as you walk away.

"It's quite alright." You insist. "She didn't know I was coming, it was all so short notice. I completely understand." She didn't even know you were staying yet.

The sound of Coryo talking down his grandmother faded into muffled sounds as Tigris closes the door to what looks to be a bedroom. "No, no it's not right." Tigris frowns, shaking her head. "I don't want to make excuses for her but the war and the dark days were so hard on her, a lot of the blame was placed on the people from the Districts. She lost both her children and she never really came back from that."

"No, I do understand." You smile sadly. "I'm so sorry you and your family went through that. It must have been so difficult."

"The war was awful for everyone." Tigris shakes her head. "Please, don't apologize to us. No one came out of that unharmed."

"Do you mind if I let Tybalt out?" You ask, eager to change the subject.

"Please." Tigris grins, clearly just as relieved that you weren't horribly offended by their grandmothers behaviour. "I'm excited to meet him."

You smile, crouching down and opening up the carrier for him to hop out. He does so promptly, taking advantage of the opportunity.

"He's so cute!" Tigris squeaks, crouching down to pet him. He was a little jarred at first by new surroundings, but he quickly accepted them when she began petting him. "It'll be so nice to have a fluffy friend here."

"Thank you for being okay with me bringing him." You smile, taking the time to look around the room yourself. Everything looked hardly touched, all sparkly and new with corner windows lighting up the space beautifully.

"Our home is your home." She smiles, standing up again and Tybalt is quick to run over to you, rubbing up against your legs. "That applies to both of you. Grandma'am will come around."

"Thank you." You smile. "The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience."

When she smiles, you can see outside of the blonde hair how her and Coryo are related. "You truly are something else."

"Oh, I hope that's a good thing..." You laugh.

"Yes, absolutely." She laughs. "I'll go get that tea going again and get the guest room all set up for you. The bathroom is right across the hall if you need it, and Coryo will come get you when grandma'am has relaxed a bit."

"Thank you." You say again, watching your cat hop up onto the desk against the back wall.

She gives you a quick hug. "Welcome home." She says softly, shutting the door behind her as she leaves.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[jlcardenas]

NaNoWriMo: Screw the Company, Keep Writing

Ever since NaNoWriMo made their statement on AI I knew I was most likely not going to be participating in their program this year. To clarify, I will still be participating in National Novel Writing  Month this year, but not through the NaNoWriMo website itself. Which I’m sure many people do in the first place because the website has been a mess for years. 

I have participated in NaNoWriMo through the website for a few years now, joining their community of writers and creatives. I’m sad that I will not have as easy of a place to make these connections, but I strongly believe anyone who still has an account on the website should delete it immediately. There are plenty of other places to make connections with writers that I will be looking into and I hope everyone else does too.

My decision to stay away from the website stemmed from their odd nonanswer statement about using AI as a writing tool. So I went on YouTube to see how many other people were going to be staying away from the website too, and what I found shocked me. NaNoWriMo, the organization, should have been shut down years ago and the leaders should have to answer for their crimes against humanity. And I’m only very slightly exaggerating here.

I found multiple videos and blogs talking about the NaNoWriMo controversies but none broke them all down as well as the YouTuber SAVY WRITES BOOKS. If you want to watch a long video essay that breaks it down phenomenally with interviews and insider knowledge I would recommend checking out their video on the subject it is where I got most of the information.

NaNoWriMo Cares More About Its Sponsors Than Its Writers

There are multiple instances where the company chose its wallet over its writers. 

During one of their contests, they promised a partnership with another website that also made their own promises to get the contest winner's book published. This was a complete scam. Not a single one of the winners got published through the sponsored website, and the website itself was the subject of scrutiny. 

It made promises that were impossible to keep. No website that promises to get your book published through a big publishing company actually has the power to achieve that. By accepting this sponsorship without vetting its credibility, NaNoWriMo proved it only cared about the dollar amount of the deal.

NaNoWriMo has another sponsorship that has caused a lot of controversies recently. This one is with ProWritingAid, a tool that promises to help cure your writer's block with the use of AI. This is what caused me to question NaNoWriMo in the first place.

How can this organization claim to care about its community of hardworking writers when it is being sponsored by an AI writing tool that cheats and writes for you? Short answer, they don’t care about you. And they almost said as much in their recent statement on AI which side steps actually making a stance on AI at all. 

They knew they had to make a statement on AI but also knew that if they said anything bad about AI they’d jeopardize their sponsorship. Putting the sponsorship before the community.

NaNoWriMo Mistreats its Volunteers

I did not know that most of the NaNoWriMo team members are volunteers. I have been complaining for a while about the messiness of the site and some of the disorganization. And a lot of the team members for certain areas have had to answer for this. No one ever told me they were volunteering with the organization.

Had I known this, I would have understood a bit of the disorganization and aimed my blame at the people who were truly at fault, the ones being paid! I have a full-time job and barely find time to write, I admire the volunteers who took time out of their day to help create this community for us. 

But only today did I find out that NaNoWriMo sent out a document to their area leaders to sign stating that they would take the blame if anything went wrong in their areas. If you’re a volunteer, you should never have to take the blame for a company when an issue is not your fault. I haven’t seen the document itself, but the fact that the organization asked so many of its volunteers without compensation is simply disgusting. 

In Savy’s video, they interview a few ex-volunteers, all of whom had disturbing stories to tell. 

If you didn’t agree with a policy, too bad. You’re the problem and you can be let go at any point. And if you talk about us we will drag you. That’s the general way those volunteers were treated.

NaNoWriMo Dismisses Child Endangerment

One of the most disturbing parts of the video essay was the subject of child endangerment. 

NaNoWriMo had a smaller community within the larger one dedicated to teen writers. You’d expect them to take every precaution necessary to keep those writers safe, right? They did the exact opposite. 

One of the moderators for that community was sending links to their own adult content websites to these teens! Did NaNoWriMo ban him once they received complaints about his conduct? Nope. They stated that he didn’t do anything bad enough to warrant a ban. It’s speculated in the video that they allowed the moderator to get away with this because he had written code for the website and they didn’t want their money maker to take a hit. 

Unforgivable!

Instead of apologizing and ensuring the safety of future teen writers in their community, NaNoWriMo shut down that community of teen writers without warning. Who knows how many teens lost valuable friendships they had made through this community because of this?

This was the last straw for me. If I had been on the fence about leaving NaNoWriMo before, this solidified it for me. 

Keep Writing

If you are a writer and you’re still considering writing for National Novel Writing Month, I highly recommend you still do it! No one is saying to stop writing in protest of this company, but instead, protest the company itself. They do not deserve to keep this month for themselves when it is the people within the community itself that made it grow.

Writers must take back the month of November for ourselves. 

Update your progress on Reddit, X, TikTok, and whatever social media you use. Just keep writing.

Please check out Savy Writes Books video as there is way more that the company did that can ever fit into one blog post. 

[cannellee]

HI-HI! I've been really enjoying your alpha! tokyo revengers fics and I was wondering if you were taking requests?

If so, could you do yandere! alpha! Kawata twins fighting over omega! reader before deciding to just share the reader? Like, the reader now has to deal with two yandere alphas who are working together.

You don't have to do it if you're too busy!! I just thought it would be a fun idea to explore and read.

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

yandere! alpha! kawata twins x omega! reader

tw : assault, rape attempt, curse words, possessive behaviour, isolation, sequestration, soft yanderes (sorry I made it extremely angsty for some reasons??)

my masterlist : ☆

(I feel like I didn't exactly answered your request, I still hope you'll enjoy reading it!

btw I'm trying a new format, different from my usual headcanons, I tried to make it as less boring as possible and not write anything unnecessary but I'm not sure... I would love to hear your thoughts !)

as far as you remember, it's always been the three of you. since you were little, your joyous friend group did everything together.

school hours were spent with you trying to appease their arguments, playing with them and going back home hands in hands.

as a kid, you were less aware of your surroundings and what was happening around you. you had a dynamic you were very much pleased with, smiley taking the role of your alpha, angry following meekly his brother, and you, you were their omega. they looked after you, with clumsy attempts at impressing you, growling to other kids when they were being mean.

to them it was clear since age 5, you are their omega. you never gave it too much though, at the time you simply went along with it, you growing instincts beckoning you to follow what your two alpha friends told you.

you noticed growing up that they became very dependent on you. the both of them seem to always know where you were, trying to be the first to help you carry your bags after you went grocery shopping, helping you with homework and asking questions about who hung out with today.

you liked this routine, and accepted gladly their presence. you were so close, it was only natural for them to stay close to you.

however, the older you became, the more they acted out of line. you could forgive them once or twice, but it soon became too much to bare.

their once innocent bickering, turned into a full war to see who was better suited for you. you surely hadn't expected this turn of event, angry having always went along with his brother's every words, seeing his in such a confrontation surprised you.

high school was tough. being in separated classes gave you a few hours break, but considered the interrogation which followed right after, you didn't know which was worse.

lunch period was spent in a secluded area where you gave to each their lunchbox. this was something they requested and eagerly waited every day. being able to taste their omega's cooking was a privilege they didn't take lightly!

careful though to prepare them identical, otherwise, - if one was to notice how you accidentally gave the other a bigger portion, or how you placed the sauce in a heart shape while the other couldn't witness that same attention in his- you would be met with a fight.

at first, they would verbally fight each other, cursing the other. however they recently started throwing hands, probably coming to the conclusion that it was the most effective method to assert dominance over the other.

sadly, none of these ever came to a decent end. they either would both tire the other out without any real "winner", or you would successfully stop them.

the situations really stressed you out, you didn't like them baring their teeth at each other. they're your precious friends and it makes you feel so sad to see them so hostile. whenever they went too far, unable to talk them out of their nonsense, your sent turned sour, incredibly painful to the nose, their behaviour even forcing a few whines out of you.

this would pull them of any trans they found themselves in seconds ago, stopping in their tracks to cradle you in their arms. your teary eyes and trembling lips did their job right, they hated that sight of you. how could they be the ones provoking such awful reactions out of you ? them who swore to protect and care for you.

"it's okay omega, we're so sorry"

"we didn't mean to scare you, it's over now please don't cry"

it seemed to be the only moment when they stopped to argue and instead focused on your wellbeing, their scent mixing with the other and completely showering you with their comforting pheromones.

· · ୨୧ · ·

to assume their aggressiveness doesn't go beyond their fraternal relationship would be wrong. you can't even count the number of time they teamed up to get rid of one of your poor classmates. they got too close to you, they said. you didn't like that one bit, nonetheless, you had little to no control over your entourage.

if angry or smiley considered someone to be too shady, threatening or unworthy of your time, they were quick to scare them off, no matter the irony behind their actions.

the same goes to anybody, really. they don't have to be associated with weird business to not being allowed to approach you. a male ? a friend with too much influence? someone who dares speak up about the twins' strange possessive behaviour with you ? or worst, an alpha ? all of them are nowhere near you the moment they surprise you talking to them.

a few broken ribs, a beaten up face and threats will keep them at bay from their precious omega.

by the end of the first month, everyone's heard of the rumour concerning you. and even though it's hard to confirm them, nobody's crazy enough to attempt finding out. and with the way you always smell of the two alphas' pheromones, it seems plausible.

you don't miss the worried glance thrown your way, or the hurried and panicked apologies whenever someone accidentally bumps into you.

having no one else to turn to, you spend all of your days either alone or with angry and smiley. they love it, love how you now rely on them. of course they'll give you all of their time !

they coax you into coming at their place more often, not caring if you miss a few classes. their bickering lessened, you note. but you can feel the tension in the air, whenever smiley's hand caresses you too close to your breast, angry is quick to yank it away. but they say nothing, your cries from last time being a lesson they'll never forget.

you spend a few nights there, watching movies while cuddling. you're able to find comfort in their arms, surrounded by their familiar scents.

despite how they tend to go overboard when it comes to you, you've never once felt threatened or in danger by their side.

actually, that's when you feel the safest. late night walks are no longer a foolish desire, they'll walk with you, each one on one side of you, watchful and alert. whether it's their reputation or the strong aura they emit, you've never been bothered when you're with them. you can't say the same when you go out alone, even during daytime. that's why you like the protection they provide.

· · ୨୧ · ·

they take you wherever you want. they always try to loose the other, angry making you walk faster when smiley has his back turned.

it never seems to work though, and at the end it's always the three of you.

they're always observant, especially in crowded areas. you really wanted to go to an amusement park, and upon seeing your hopeful eyes, they reluctantly agreed, already dreading how you'll be exposed to the eyes of countless of strangers.

"don't wander away y/n, we don't want to loose you, okay?"

you happily nod, too focused on what you could do next.

angry is tightly holding your hand while his brother is buying you a treat. the queue is long and you suggest that you go and try your luck at another stall.

you watch angry doing his best to earn that big plushy you had your eyes on earlier. you stay on the sidelines, softly cheering on him. while letting him focus on shooting the balloons, your eyes wander over the next stall. the prizes are even better and you tell him you're going to check the prices. you don't wait to check if he heard you and get going immediately, eyes glued to the huge teddy bear.

you slalom between the people, until you're able to see more clearly. this one is the same price, might as well try it too you thought.

you went to join back angry when a strong smell prevented you from doing so. a massive hand grips your arm before you can even do anything and you're dragged in the forest near the stalls.

the music is slowly fading away as you trash around. you're scared, unable to free yourself from this man.

he pins you against a tree, the darkness around you making it harder for you to make out his face. all you know is that his voice is low and frightening.

"what's a pretty omega like you doing here all alone, hm?"

he pulls your chin up, grabbing your ass. you froze instantly, eyes shutting on their own.

"come on, you can't tell me you went there without expecting something like that to happen"

time seems stuck, you can't help yourself from shaking and each of his movements send you into an even more distressed state.

his scent reeks, it's all over you. pleas leave your mouth one after another and you so desperately want angry or smiley to find you. surely they're looking for you now ? angry has noticed you weren't there anymore and alerted his brother, you hope.

"fuck, omegas like you always make me so fucking hard", he laughs, his hands undressing you despite your attempts at taking them off of you.

you successfully kick his nose, taking advantage of the moment of surprise to make a run for it. you almost instantly regret your act as soon as you feel him tackle you to the ground, having no problem getting to you, this alpha being obviously faster than an omega.

"you fucking bitch! quit trashing around and take it"

a slap is all it takes to stop all movements from you. the silence is excruciating, a ringing sound in your ears and his excited breaths as he unbuckles his belt are the only thing you seem to hear. your tears cascade over your cheeks. you don't dare move.

"there you go, now that's more like it. discipline always works with your dumb brains, fucking omegas.."

you shut your eyes, not wanting to see anything more, when you're suddenly freed from the painful weight over you. still, you don't move a muscle.

you hear your name being shouted and gentle arms making you sit.

"y/n ? y/n please are you okay ?"

you recognize smiley's voice and pheromones. you lean into him, accepting wholeheartedly the comfort he's providing.

you open your eyes to an extremely pissed off smiley. he's caressing your face, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ears.

"everything's fine now, angry is taking care of that bastard"

at the mention of his brother, when you turn your head to the side, you're hit by a bloody vision, one you never saw, before smiley tear you from it.

"don't look y/n. listen, we'll just go home okay? don't worry about anything, you're safe now. we're so sorry we couldn't get there sooner"

you can only nod, still very sensitive and vulnerable from what you just experienced. the sounds of angry beating up the alpha to death doesn't appease you one bit. with frantic pupils and distressed whimpers coming from you, angry does everything to keep his composure. the sight of his panic omega is atrocious and he can't believe it happened while you were with them.

he carries you in his arms, still making sure you can't see angry, "angry stop, you're scaring her"

it takes a moment, but you eventually stop hearing punches and bones being broken. then you're given a tender squeeze, your clothes dampened by blood.

you look up and see angry, his usual warm smile gone and instead looking at you with ferocious eyes. you cuddle closer to smiley's neck, nose buried in his scent gland. he's purring, hoping that'll ease you up.

the way back home is silent. you're covered with their jackets, to keep you from the cold and hide your naked shoulders after your clothes were torn apart.

you see them exchange a few glances, silently communicating, but you don't say anything, too occupied by the plushies angry gave you.

the walk is long, and the breathing of smiley lulls you to sleep soon enough, way too comfortable to do anything else.

"hey, we're home baby"

you feel yourself being put on a soft bed, you don't answer, too tired to do anything else. still, you wait for angry to say something too, which never happened. his silence is unusual and you can't help but worry.

"I'm really sorry for what happened, I shouldn't have left your side..."

"no of course not, it's not your fault, nobody's mad at you, just go to sleep okay, we'll talk tomorrow"

you only listen to him, an alpha knows better, you should've stayed close and listen for once, you feel really bad and disgusted at your behaviour.

you let them dress you up with their own clothes, a sweater from smiley and angry's sweatpants. you know that's also their way of reassuring you, and themselves.

· · ୨୧ · ·

"can't you see? the world is a scary and dangerous place. if you stay here, you'll be safe"

"angry and me will take care of you, together like you said we should, we won't argue anymore okay? so just let us love you baby"

head still fuzzy from waking up a few minutes ago, you're sitting at their table, eating the breakfast angry cooked.

you don't say anything at their words, events from last night preventing you from even finding a decent protest.

you can't help but feel like locking you up is wrong, but what can you say to them ? they're always there for you, and always will. you know they want the best for you.

"that's why we're doing this baby, I hope you understand, it's for you, only you"

"but, always staying inside still is a bit..."

"a bit what? what do you think would've happened yesterday night if we weren't there huh? are we wrong for our way of dealing with this? we're going to protect you, provide for you, isn't that enough?"

his voice scared you, he sounded mad, you didn't like that one bit. he unknowingly let out a more domineering presence, your omega not even able to protest. it forced your eyes on the floor, not daring to look up, in fear of upsetting the pink haired alpha more.

this was in those moments you got reminded of the painfully obvious difference between the three of you. angry and smiley were alphas, no matter how hard you would try to act as friends on a same level, the power imbalance between your two genders would always make it impossible for you to win an argument.

"it's just... I'm worried about your safety. we will protect you from everything, just rely on us for once"

you choose to stay quiet. you head was pounding and no matter what you replied, they would always find a way to prove you wrong.

you finished eating, letting them guide you back to their shared room. they dropped you on the floor, a small and tidy corner. you questioned them, wondering why smiley didn't carry you back to the bed you were on earlier.

when angry came in too, he held a few hoodies, blankets and pillows. he gave it to you, immediately understanding what he meant.

building a nest was a permanent thing, only done in places you consider home. it's very intimate and only the alpha's omega was allowed to come near it. to make you build such a precious space, inside their room ; you knew you weren't getting out of here any time soon. they were deeply serious about you.

smiley scented the first blanket, handing it to angry so he could do as well. they then gave it to you, softly urging you to start your nest.

you were hesitant, but eventually gave in. carefully placing each items, the two alphas practically purring from satisfaction with the way their omega was obediently going along with their request, trusting them enough to let them help her with her process.

"good omega, so docile for her alphas"

he takes you in his arms once it's all over, pushing your head against his neck, while laying down inside the soft nest you made.

you were quite proud of the outcome, having put much efforts to accomplish a well made nest.

"right, you're so pretty, we were so lucky to find someone like you. a sweet little omega, letting her alphas cuddle her like that, you're such a good girl"

you were ashamed to say their praises worked like a charm, and soon appeased your worries and constant questions. you wanted to trust them wholeheartedly. it felt too right, they sounded so right. praising flowing towards you, you felt loved and appreciated.

they both gave you soft, gentle kisses, a boy on each side, heat of their chest engulfing you entirely. you wish you could stay like this forever, in the warm embrace of your alphas.

their love for you would only grow from now, knowing that they now had full responsibility over you, their adoration having no limits. they'll work twice as hard to become he alphas you're deserving of.

and you'll stay in the safety of your home, patiently waiting for them every day to come back. you won't leave. you're now bound for life, especially after the claim they put on your neck.

a sign of the ownership and affection they so preciously hold over you.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

I was wondering if you could make a part 2 to "the instrument"? I got invested reading it was so sad that it ended :(

I don't rlly know what I'm looking for but I loved the plot of that fic and I wanted to see it progress further (´；д；)

Like, it js ended with him giving her flowers, I wanted to see their love bloom more yknowww ಥ_ಥ

(Also is it weird that I see y/n as her own person?)

── THE COMPASS

Synopsis: You were right from the start — Michael Kaiser has always been a dog, albeit perhaps not in the way you first meant it. (part one here!)

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, mentioned/implied/referenced abuse (both child and animal), call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: EEK i feel like kaiser is so hard for me to do romance with but i tried my best!! and LMAOO this y/n is definitely a very interesting one so i can see why you got that sense 😭 but i’m glad you liked the instrument and ty for requesting 🥹 i hope this is somewhat satisfactory??

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

You are quite certain that your mother was involved in this exercise, considering she’s the only one you can think of with a spare key to your house. So, when your phone call to Michael is sent immediately to voicemail, you don’t hesitate in dialing her number, knowing she’ll pick up immediately, as she always does.

The phone rings only once, and then she’s answering. There are voices in the background that are faint and muffled, which means either she’s watching a new drama or your father is watching some sports game. Then you detect the faint sound of cheers, and you conclude it must be the latter. 

“Hello, Y/N,” your mother says. “Did you need something?”

She is very obviously trying to maintain an air of mysteriousness, as if she has no idea why you might be calling her, but the fact that she is putting on such an act makes it all the more obvious that it is just a facade. You’ve known for many years that your talent onstage is not a genetic one, though it does not stop your parents from pretending that it’s something you inherited from them.

“The flowers,” you say. “You put them there, didn’t you?”

She coughs. You don’t know if she’s disguising a laugh or if she’s just taken aback to that extent. Either way, you give her a moment to compose herself, for it’ll be a mess if you don’t. Your mother is like that, after all. If you inundate her with questions, she’ll respond to exactly none of them, so patience is the only method you have if you wish to obtain any measure of success.

“It wasn’t my own doing,” she says finally. You sigh.

“Of course, someone told you to, and I’m sure we both know who,” you say. “What did he say?”

“He meant well,” she says. “Are you angry with him? He seemed to think you might be. Anyways, he just told me to give them to you. It’s his way of saying sorry, I think. Or perhaps of saying something else. I’m afraid I can’t understand him the way you do. It’s magical, really, how you all but read his mind…”

“No one can read his mind,” you scoff. “He’s a convoluted man, and his thoughts are his own.”

“And you despise him because of that?” she prods, in a way that indicates she already knows the answer and is only asking for her personal satisfaction.

“I love him all the more for it,” you say shortly. Somehow, it’s worse saying it to your mother than it was with him. More real, maybe. Unable to be taken back. You don’t want to take it back, of course, but nevertheless, even if you did, you no longer can. It’s out in the world, now, and the world has a strange humor; it takes things one says even carelessly, without thought, and it turns them into undeniable, inescapable truth. 

“Well,” she says. “That is a predicament.”

“There’s no predicament,” you say.

“He believes there is,” she says. “Right before he left, he—”

“Left?” you repeat. The flowers on your counter are arcing towards the sun, their petals unfurling towards the light pouring from your window. It’s a behavior more typical of flowers other than roses, but these roses are blue and they are Michael’s, so it stands to reason that they behave peculiarly. “Where did he go?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she says. “He didn’t mention where he was going, just that he had to leave for a bit. But he looked sad. I mean, it’s difficult to tell with him, given how stoic he is, so I don’t know. Don’t take me at my word and start a fight about it.”

This is all you’re going to get out of her. You’re sure of it; there’s a wavering to her voice that signals she’s out of her depth. It’ll be unproductive and all but cruel if you continue to drill her, so you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut and counting to three in your mind. Frustration is a wasted emotion, especially when the target of your frustration is somewhere far away, gone with nothing but a pot of flowers as a farewell.

That’s what it really is. Not an apology or a confession, but a goodbye. The fact that he thought to do it does mean something, but that meaning doesn’t outweigh the intention. So you make meaningless small talk with your mother and then your father, who she passes the phone to, and as soon as you can, you hang up and call another person, one who might be your only chance at finding the wandering stray that is Michael Kaiser.

Michael doesn’t really have friends, claims he doesn’t need them, but if there is one man who he might deign to bestow that title upon, it is his Bastard München teammate, Alexis Ness. They have been playing together since they were young, and so, if anything, there is an empathy between the two, although Michael will never admit it.

You’ve only met Alexis Ness a few times, at the various events which Michael used to drag you to when your relationship was still in the public eye. He’s never been anything but polite, albeit reserved, and on your third meeting, he gave you his phone number, telling you to call him if you ever ran into trouble. He had left the with Michael unsaid, but the implication had been there. You had thanked him and never called him since.

He’s quick to respond, like he was expecting the call — for all you know, he really was, though you would never ask either way. However, he does not speak first, so there is an awkward pause as you both wait for the other to say something.

“Good morning, Mr. Ness,” you say once a minute has gone by and he still has said nothing. “This is Y/N L/N. You gave me your number once.”

“Ah, Kaiser’s girlfriend,” he says. They have this habit, those soccer players, of referring to each other solely by last name. Your theory is that it’s to create distance, to avoid becoming close to a person who can be stolen by another team at any moment. You can’t fathom any other explanation. It’s a little sad to you, but you try not to judge, because there’s as many or more judgements that can be passed about your own lifestyle and habits.

“Yes,” you say. 

“Are you calling to ask me where he went?” he says. 

“I am,” you say. There’s no point in games. You don’t know Alexis Ness well enough to play them, and he seems to appreciate candidness, so the both of you are blunt in your conversations.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he says. “He swore me to secrecy.”

“I see,” you say. It’s disappointing, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Michael is more than a little paranoid, so of course he took these ridiculous measures to cover his tracks.

“Nothing against you,” he says. “In fact, you should take it as a compliment. It sounded like there’s some messes he needed to clean up before he could bear to face you.”

“He’s horrible at cleaning,” you say.

“I don’t mean literal cleaning,” he says. It’s patient but also mocking. You roll your eyes, a silent form of retribution that he’ll never know of.

“Neither do I,” you say. Alexis Ness exhales heavily. Perhaps you’ve given him a migraine. It’s a particular skill of yours, or so you’ve been told.

“Berlin,” he says.

“Berlin?” you say.

“That’s where he is. If he asks, I’m not the one who told you,” he says, and then he’s ending the call before you can even thank him.

Berlin’s a big city, so Ness’s advice isn’t as helpful as he might’ve thought it would be, but at least it’s a start. Besides, for all his idiosyncrasies, Michael has a few patterns he follows with religiosity, so you tell your agent you’re going on a trip and silence your phone before he can call you and sputter protests about the impromptu nature of the semi-vacation.

The volunteers at the dog shelter tell you that Michael’s been there for the majority of the day. They’ve left him alone because they don’t know what to say; it’s not everyday that a celebrity wanders into such an establishment without so much as a word, and he’s remained relatively harmless, so they’ve continued about their daily business, ignoring him as best as they could when it became obvious he had no interest in speaking to them.

When you enter the kennel room, you find him sitting in front of one with a large hound in it. It has a pointed muzzle, and its tail does not wag at your approach, but it does lift its head and blink at you a couple of times before going back to sleep. 

The cement floor is cold, but still you sit beside Michael, hugging your knees to your chest in a mirror of his position, careful not to touch him, thinking that he is wild enough to flee if you do. The hound lets out a soft breath. You notice that there are pink lines cutting through the black of its fur, marring its wide torso, shiny as the skin does its best to heal.

“She was seized from her owner,” Michael says. “The neighbors called the police one night when things got too loud.”

He’s not looking at you, but it’s obvious you’re the one he meant that statement for, so you shift closer to him, placing one hand on his arm. He flinches the tiniest bit, but when you try to pull away, he reaches up and stops you, holding your hand there, though he still refuses to turn away from the dog.

“Apparently, the guy got drunk and beat her,” he says. “She belonged to his wife, but once his wife died, he became an alcoholic, and that poor dog was the only one there to see it. I’m sure she tried to keep loving him at first, though. Even when she was frightened. Dogs do their best to love you, because they can’t understand that no matter how hard they try, it doesn’t matter. If someone wants to hate them, then all of the love in the world won’t be enough to stop that.”

He’s talking about the dog, but that’s not what he really means. That’s just how he is: he speaks in circuitous riddles to avoid ever saying anything plainly. Flowers and dogs — both are just methods of avoiding what he really wants to tell you.

“We can take her home,” you say. “Give her a different name and a place where she can be happy. Even if something has been hurt before, that doesn’t mean it has to hurt forever.”

His eyes lower, and then he stands, yanking you to your feet. Steadying you when you stumble, he lets go of you abruptly, frowning and turning away from the dog, who is awoken by the suddenness of the movement, flattening her ears against her head and shrinking back.

“She’s frightened of men now,” he says. “Has been ever since she was rescued. Bites every male that comes near her. I can’t blame her. If I were her, I’d do the same. Apparently, that means she’s not really adoptable. Not by us and not by anyone.”

The dog whines plaintively. You offer her the back of your hand through the bars of the kennel. She sniffs it before licking it carefully, and then she thumps her tail against her bed in approval — only one time, though, and then she’s standing, pacing in unhappy circles around the small kennel, which can hardly fit an animal of her size.

“I want her,” you say. “I don’t care if she isn’t adoptable. I want her.”

“Of course you do,” he says. He would sound aggravated, but there is a curious delight dancing in his eyes, a childish sort of joy that so rarely sparkles in those blue irises, so he completely doesn’t. “Of course you want her. You can’t stay away from hurt things, can you? Who told you I was here?”

“No one,” you say. “I figured it out by myself.”

He purses his lips, following after you as you make your way to the front desk. Disapproval rolls off of him in waves, but also something else. Something shriveled and cowering which is fighting desperately to crawl to the surface.

The volunteers are surprised to hear which dog you insist on taking, and they try to convince you to look at any of the more appealing ones — the puppies, or the well-trained retrievers that already have waitlists of potential adopters. You’re an actress, however, so they’ll put you at the top and give you whichever one you want. You tell them you know which one you want already, and eventually they give up on arguing, only frowning as you sign the litany of documents they produce, clicking their tongues and telling you that she’ll be difficult.

You respond that it’s fine. You’re used to difficult things; in fact, you think that you prefer them. They shake their heads and then you are told that your dog — yours, miraculously she is yours — will be ready for you to get her whenever you want.

Michael’s business in Berlin is not yet completed, you can sense it, so you tell them that you will return later and then you chase after his disappearing back, catching him by the sleeve of his coat in a narrow alleyway which leads to a theater.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. He’s gazing at a poster with a woman on it; she’s beautiful, with elfin features and flowing hair the color of gold. She’s also someone you recognize. “Fuck Ness. I know he told you. I’m going to kill him when I get back.”

“Leave him alone,” you say. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Sure,” he says. “Whatever.”

“Do you know her?” you say, pointing at the woman.

“Do you?” he shoots back. He’s crabby now, snapping easily and readily, though you’ve not really done anything to provoke him.

“Yes,” you say. It’s not the answer he had predicted, which you can tell because he whirls to glare at you instead of the movie poster. “Why are you surprised? We’re in the same industry. I was almost in a movie with her a while back, though it fell through because of an issue with the writers. She’s nice enough, I guess. I went to her wedding a couple of years ago, but other than that, I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close.”

“You…went to her wedding?” he says, and then, inexplicably, his fingers are weaving in between yours. It feels like he is holding onto you for something more than affection, so you stand as still as you possibly can, only humming in agreement.

“Yes, I did. Actually, she married her childhood sweetheart, which took everyone by surprise. It was commonly thought that she’d marry one or another of her costars, you see. She’s always been good at creating chemistry…people always say that she can make even a rock seem desirable, that’s how she is,” you say wistfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t shove you away, enraptured by the story. “It’s amazing to watch. But isn’t it kind of sweet? That despite how excellent she is at feigning affection, how she could’ve had any man in the world, she chose the boy from her youth? I remember talking to him. He has nothing, no money or connections or investments. She really just married him because he loves her for who she is.”

“Is love really all she wanted?” he says.

“I suppose it’s all that a lot of people want,” you say. “Rumor has it that she's pregnant.”

He stiffens against you. “What?”

“Well, I think she’s a little old for it, but it’s common for women in my line of work to wait until the signs of age are beyond concealment before they have children, so it’s not a shock,” you say.

“Why?’ he says. 

“It’s the industry’s standards—” you begin before he cuts you off.

“No,” he says. “No, why is she — why does she want — why is she pregnant?”

“Isn’t it common for people to start a family eventually?” you say. “By the way, you never answered my question. Do you know her?”

“She’s my mother,” he says. The words are angry, but his tone is forlorn, his hand in yours cold and small. “But I’m — I’m not her son.”

He looks so wretched that you cannot help embracing him, and when he reciprocates in earnest and without pretense, you know that you have done the right thing. His breaths are fast and shaky, though he is not crying, and as much as you wish you had not said it, you believe deep down that it is important that you did.

Platitudes are meaningless. If you say it’s okay or something along those lines, you will be a liar, because the truth is that it’s not okay. You are not the one who can decide if it’s okay or not. You can only remain as you have been, motionless and gentle, stroking his back in the way one settles a restless infant, allowing his fingers to dig into your sides and his looming weight to collapse into you — for his sharpness is not borne of malice but helplessness, however loath to admit it he might be.

“Why?” he whispers. There’s a million questions he could be asking, and none of them are ones you can ever answer for him, but that will not stop him. “Why couldn’t it be me? Why couldn’t she be happy with me? I would have loved her. I would have been her family.”

“A lot of people don’t deserve children,” you muse. “Or love, or many other such happinesses. And still more people cannot understand the importance of these things when they are within their grasp. Your mother must’ve been very young when she had you. It’s easy to be blinded by stardom and glamor and fairytales at that age. It’s easier still to abandon everything for just a taste of the spotlight. There’s a school of thought that fame is impossible to attain without that necessary sacrifice.”

“What about you?” he says.

“I’m not an exception,” you say ruefully. “Any normal person would have hung up on you when you first called, Michael. I’m only lucky in that it was you and not anyone else on the other end of the line. It’s only because I know you that I realized there are more important things in this world than celebrity and popularity. Once I would’ve spurned the thought of obscurity, but now, if I can have you, then I wouldn’t even mind it so much. It’s the same conclusion your mother must have reached.”

“It’s too late,” he says. “She reached it too late.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, she did reach it too late, but it’s easier to give this kind of life up once you’ve known it than to never have it at all. That’s the only reason why. She was greedy, and you bore the consequences.”

“It’s not fair,” he says. You’ve never heard him like this. Normally, he’d laugh at the mere thought of such vulnerability, but the gray of the city has clearly twisted him into a wounded and fragile version of himself, prone to shattering, made of a glass that is already jagged at the edges and can hardly keep together because of it. “It’s not fair, it’s not — I hate her, and I hate him, and I hate her stupid new family, and I —I—”

He silences himself, obviously unsure of what to say, and then he holds your face in his hands, giving you a pleading stare. Help me, he seems to beg. Tell me what to do. He is lost, and somehow you have become a map of sorts, or a compass, one which points in a direction he has no choice but to follow.

“Why did you come here?” you say. “When you knew it would hurt you, why did you come?”

“I wanted to remind myself,” he says. “For a second, you even convinced me that I was worthy of being — you know. So I had to come back. I had to see with my own eyes the kind of person I really am. If my mother and my father and my entire damn city hate me, then why should you be any different?”

He’s scared that he will hurt you, and that you will hurt him, and that he will be alone again, as he has been for much of his life. For all his brashness, his bravado, his smugness and his smooth way of speaking in public, he’s never really been anything more than a little boy who’s frightened, who presses against the back wall of his enclosure like that beaten hound did.

“You know that I am different,” you say. “I am not your mother, nor your father. I will leave everything behind but you. In fact, I’ll leave it for you. Tell me to and I will.”

“What if I tell you to quit acting?” he says.

“Then I will retire at once,” you say. “I already have more money than I know what to do with.”

“And if I tell you to move across the world?” he tries, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you do that, despite your entire life being here?”

“Yes,” you say. “I am quick at making friends and learning new things, so I will adapt to it.”

“What about if I tell you to marry me?” he says. His lips are so close to yours that he is speaking against your mouth, but he doesn’t try to kiss you yet. 

“You wouldn’t ask?” you say.

“I don’t ask for things,” he says.

“Naturally, I’d marry you,” you say. “There isn’t anyone else I’d ever want, anyways. We’d have the most beautiful wedding in the world, and we’d only invite the people we like.”

“That’s a short list,” he says. His heartbeat is calming down; it’s a temporary solution, but if it manages to distract him, then you’ll indulge the flight of fancy.

“My parents,” you say.

“Ness,” he says.

“I always knew you liked him,” you say.

“Only because I have to,” he says.

“Anyone else?” you say.

“No,” he says. “That’s it. We can even forget about all of those people, actually. I just want it to be the two of us. Nobody else matters but — but you.”

He’s stuttering as he comes to his senses. These declarations aren’t typical of him, as foreign as French on his tongue, but he’s making them anyways. He’s been fighting the compulsion for a while, you can tell, but it’s hard for him to keep fighting on all fronts of his life. Eventually, one side will give. You are glad that it is your side, that you are the one he has given to, no matter how reluctantly he has done it.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you say. “All of these are easy for me to do. Ask for something difficult, so that I may prove to you that I am telling the truth, that I mean what I say.”

“It’s not a request, but a condition,” he says.

“You only need to name it,” you say.

“If I hurt you, then you have to run,” he says. “Run so far away that I can never reach you. Even though it’ll hurt me, I want you to run. Even though I’ll beg for you to stay, please leave.”

That’s it, then. The most difficult thing he can imagine a person doing: leaving someone they love. Certainly he is unable to do it. It doesn’t matter if he’s suffering. He’ll suffer longer just to stay by your side, just as he suffered for all of those many years as a child. 

It’s how you know he loves you more than he’ll ever let on. He holds you in such esteem that he’ll let you leave him if you have to, though it’ll indubitably destroy him, destroy him more than staying could ever destroy you. Yet still he is giving you that permission, commanding it, even, because he’d rather destroy himself than let even the slightest harm befall your being.

You can only draw that conclusion because you know that he will never, can never, hurt you. He isn’t saying this as a warning, because it isn’t an inclination that he has. No, it’s a dark and ugly voice in the back of his mind — does it sound like his father’s? You feel that it must — insisting that he will do it, he will. He’ll hurt you. He’s the reason that his mother left and his father became something sick, and he’ll be the reason that you are broken and ruined and torn apart. He’ll do it. He’ll be the one to do it, it’s inevitable, he’ll scratch you with his thorns and gnaw at your remains with his fangs and maybe he’ll even cry during the act but he’ll still do it.

“Alright,” you say, though you want to protest that he is incapable, because it’s clear that he is testing you. Every argument which might fall from your lips, he has heard before, and if you dare utter them one more time, it’ll be the proof that you are lying. The way his thoughts work, the paths that they follow, they are winding and narrow, but perhaps your mother is right — perhaps you are coming to understand them.

“Do you think that I can?” he says.

“No,” you say. “The fact that you worry about it tells me that you won’t. You are better than that, Michael.”

“You really believe that?” he says. “With everything you are, you believe it?”

“I do,” you say.

You almost can’t believe it, but he laughs. Well, calling it a laugh is generous, it’s really more of an exhale, yet one which is unquestionably seeping with amusement, and you’re about to ask him what he finds so funny when he was so close to breaking down mere moments earlier, but he stops you before you can.

“I do,” he says. It’s an odd thing to repeat, but a second later your mind registers why he’s done it, and then the corners of your lips are curving up.

In the streets of Berlin, the two of you are alone; his mother’s poster is your only witness, but if she takes some offense, she remains smiling and silent, her gaze far away as her son — who isn’t her son, he isn’t hers at all, he’s yours and only yours — finally closes the minuscule gap between you both and kisses you fully.

[dandylovesturtles]

Lil missing scene from the movie

My favorite trope is when a character who is very hungry gets fed

———

Casey’s stomach growls, and he can only hope it’s masked by the rumbling of the tank as it travels through the subway.

He’s good at ignoring hunger pangs by now. Knows how to swallow them down and push ahead, had to learn because there’s never been enough food to truly silence them. Maybe when he was a child, and the adults in his life were fine with going with less when it meant he would be full, but as Casey’s body grew and demanded more and more the colony only had less and less.

He just hopes the turtles didn’t hear it. It’s embarrassing, and not really the impression he’s trying to give. And besides, it’s not like there’s anything they can do about it. They’re not going to stop for lunch.

Unfortunately, his stomach has other plans - right as there’s a lull in the conversation it growls again, and this time Michelangelo turns away from the console and looks at him in awe.

“Dude, was that your stomach!?”

“Uh…” He grins, trying to shrug it off. “Yes?”

“That was sooo loud! I thought there was a bear in here!”

“Oh. Sorry. Uh… it’s been awhile since my last meal.”

He’s hoping they just drop it there, but…

“How long is “awhile”?” asks Leonardo. He sounds unimpressed, and there’s the same piercing look in his eye that Sensei would have when he’d ask the same. When’d you last eat, kid?

So Casey knows there’s no dodging this one. The thing is, he’s not sure how to answer the question - there was the whole time travel business, and the mission before that, and the time he spent unconscious, and the attack on the Foot Clan…

Point is, he can only guess. He hopes Leonardo doesn’t see it as lying.

“Um… thirty five hours? Maybe?” That’s a pretty conservative estimate, but he hopes it flies. “But I’m fine! I’ve handled worse than this.”

Leonardo staring at him. Actually, they’re all staring at him. None of them look happy, and Casey’s stomach flips from something other than hunger.

Then Leonardo sighs, and he sounds disappointed. Casey opens his mouth to plead his case, to assure Sensei that he’s fit and ready to go, but Leonardo interrupts him by addressing Donatello instead.

“What’ve we got in the snack stash, Dee?”

“Hmmm…” Donatello flips on the autopilot again, leaving his chair and flipping open a compartment on the wall. “Sour candy, hot Cheeto’s, some snack cakes…”

“Oh, you don’t want any of that on an empty stomach,” says Michelangelo. “Trust me, it’s not worth it.”

“Well, we have some pretzels in here, and… oh.” Donatello’s voice goes a little quieter. “Some of Raph’s protein bars.”

Casey starts to insist that he doesn’t want to take Raphael’s food, but before he can Donatello has closed the compartment, wrapped food in hand.

“If you’ve been eating,” he makes a face, “leaves and rats, this is probably the best thing we can give you right now.” He fans them out. “We have plain and chocolate chunk.”

“I like the peanut butter ones,” says Michelangelo, “but we can’t keep those around.”

(A memory: Master Michelangelo making him a peanut butter sandwich as a special treat. Carefully wiping down the counter and utensils he’d used. When Casey asked, he’d said, “Because Raph-“

The sad look on his face was brief, but Casey never forgot.

“…Because we need to be careful, in case someone has a peanut allergy.”)

“I know.”

He takes one of the plain ones, unwrapping it hesitantly. Sensei’s voice echoes in his head, Eat slow. Small bites.

He knows he should, but when he tastes it his stomach roars to life, ravenous and angry. Before he knows it he’s eaten the entire bar in four barely chewed bites, and wishes he hadn’t because now it’s gone and he feels hungrier than when he began.

They’re still staring at him. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just says, “Thank you,” sincerely, because sharing food is the ultimate gesture of love in the apocalypse.

The rest of the bars are suddenly being shoved his way - four of them in total. “Here,” says Donatello, not meeting his eyes. “You can have the rest.”

“Ah, no,” he says quickly, trying to push them back. “I can’t take-“

“Raph always forgets they’re here, anyway,” says Donatello, waving him off. “Someone might as well eat them.”

Casey takes the bars. Donatello sits back down. They’re not looking at him anymore.

He looks at the protein bars in his hands. He’s still hungry.

He takes smaller bites this time. Savors the taste of oats and other flavors he can’t readily identify. It’s good. It’s really, really good.

He stows the last three bars away. He may need them later. Or maybe he can give them back to Raphael, after they rescue him.

“Three minutes to Metro Tower,” says Donatello, and he focuses up. His stomach’s quiet now - there’s no excuses.

He found the key. Now it’s time to stop the Krang.

[cal-flakes]

╰┈➤ reunited with rafe

warnings: kinda angsty i guess?

summary: childhood friends turned enemies find themselves in a sticky situation.

a crybaby. that’s what he always called her. whether she had scraped her knees in the garden with sarah when she was seven, or the book she was reading had a sad ending, y/n was a crybaby. but oh, how he hated it when she cried, more so when he was the one who caused it.

y/n always had a rocky relationship with her bestfriends brother, he hated her, or so she thought. never quite catching the twinkle in his eye whenever she was around. god forbid she ever noticed, from the age of nine, rafe cameron went to great lengths to hide the truth.

he made y/n’s life hell from the moment they met at her and sarah’s first sleepover, until the day her and her friends escaped the boat to guadeloupe. she wondered still, what stopped him from unloading on their lifeboat, but he knew the answer to that very well.

the pogues shared anxious glances as they were rescued from the unknown island, now poguelandia. something didn’t feel right, and they all knew it.

“he’s working for my dad. they’ve probably been looking for us this whole time!” sarah cried, holding back a nervous sob. y/n nodded as she drew circles arm, like when they were kids. “she’s right, search the plane, there might be clues..” poor whispered, a brief nod to john b and everyone was on the same page.

the crew scavenged the back of the plane, looking for anything that would tell them who this man was while john b distracted the pilot.

sarah grabbed a photograph out of jj’s hand, staring at it in horror. “the coastal venture, oh my god” she breathed.

bickering ensued as the pogues came up with their own ideas on what to do. john b did his best to keep the pilot talking until he spotted jj putting a book back into his bag, reaching round to grab at him. before they knew it, they were going down, and fast.

landing with a crash, the plane filled up with water as the pogues struggled their way out. It was all happening so fast, none of them took a moment to notice y/n’s foot was trapped in some netting. “guys!” she shrieked to no avail. flailing furiously to untangle her foot.

pushing the net away from her as if it had attacked her, she fled the plane, swimming across to shore, only to find her friends weren’t there.

she didn’t have a chance to catch her breath before guards stormed her, coming from all directions. y/n took off running, hiding between trees and boats before she was grabbed from behind.

y/n continued screaming for her friends to help her when she was placed in the back of a truck.

arrival at her destination was less than pleasant as a large man dragged her upstairs to a room and pushed her inside. turning back, she questioned the man, who refused to answer her questions.

after a couple hours of wracking her brain, she put the dress on which had been laid out for her. despite the situation, she took a moment to admire the way it hugged her curves beautifully, the red satin complimenting her olive skin.

“uh, excuse me?” she asked, noticing a man in the dining room of the house.

her face contorted when he turned around, as did his. meeting her eyes, it felt as though his heart had fallen into his stomach, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again.

“i knew it! i knew it was you, getting your little friend to ‘rescue us’, it’s always you!’ y/n snapped, unable to suppress the anger, which she had been holding onto for years.

“me? you’re the one trying to get in on my deal!” he spat back, his heart hurting.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks y’know” an unfamiliar voice appeared. the two shared a hateful look before turning towards it.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you mr cameron..” gesturing toward him before doing the same to the girl “and you, miss y/l/n, i apologise for the rough tactics in bringing you here..” the man bowed his head slightly, feigning regret.

furrowing his brows, rafe analysed the sentence, a familiar type of anger growing inside of him once again, having stayed dormant for a while.

“rough tactics? what about me?” rafe questioned sheepishly, struggling to suppress the thoughts of anyone but him laying a hand on her.

after a long conversation, both parties now held the information as to why they were there. denmark tanny’s diary, pope’s diary. y/n kept her cards close to her chest, denying all knowledge of the diary.

“i know one of you has the diary. once i have it, you’ll be free to leave” carlos stated, leaving an air of tension behind him as he left.

y/n stayed silent, avoiding rafe’s eyes, which she didn’t notice were inspecting her as she stared out of the window.

poking out through the open back of the dress, lay an angry purple bruise, looking further, he saw how it spread across the whole left side of her ribcage. rubbing his forehead, rafe struggled to find the words for a second.

“th-they did that to you? he stuttered, frustration clear on his face. the disgusted look on her face said it all, yet she prevailed. “why do you care? it’s not like you haven’t done worse.” she spat at him, all the memories of rafe’s brutality fresh in her mind.

holding his hand up “never to you i didn’t!” he remarked, as if that would change anything. “but to the people i love! you expect me to stand here and be happy to see you? after everything you did to us, to your own sister?” she wailed, her mind going back to her friends.

before she could wish them away, awful thoughts invaded her mind. she had no idea where her friends were, they could be dead for all she knew. biting his tongue, rafe looked up at her, seeing her big green eyes well up with tears just like they had that time in the garden.

“you are such a crybaby” he snapped, his sharp words cutting her just like they had done before.

[byunpum]

I am very sorry

Pair: Jake sully x human daughter

Warning: None. Kinda sad, Bad relationship, respect, reconciliation.

+REQUEST "Here"+

Note: This request is a bit sad. It cost me to make jake a bit of a suck dad. Because I know he would never be a bad father, he would never despise any of his children. But I did my best, I hope you like this oneshot.

Having a child was never jake's first choice when he came to pandora. So he was very surprised when your mother told him she was expecting his baby. Your father and mother met on the base at one of those parties that the base buddy group used to throw. Lots of drinking, dancing. It was all crazy, so it was no wonder Jake ended up with the first pretty girl who flirted with him. Your mother was from the security team that released quarictch. So he introduced them both to each other. There was no love, just two people who wanted to have a good time. A good time that turned you into you. A baby who was not wanted by her father or her mother.

So when Jake went off into the jungle with Grace, and your mother went to do her security work, you were left alone in a base full of people. You were left alone on a base full of people who barely knew how to take care of you. Of course, you were accompanied by another child that had been born, spider. At least he had someone to love him. After the altercations, when the humans were sent to earth. It was more than obvious that Jake would have to stay with you, your mother was dead and you were too young to travel. You were only 6 months old. Jake asked for help from Norm, he couldn't have you in the jungle with him. How were you going to breathe the air of Pandora, plus Neytiri would not accept a human child. She understood that you were Jake's daughter, but no… she had her limits.

You began to grow up…and of course you began to notice the difference between you and your now new half-siblings. Why could they live with your father, why couldn't you go to your father's house? Why did he love them more? Jake was always harder on you, training you harder, talking to you more harshly and even showing you little affection. But that didn't stop you from trying to get his love. But how could he love a girl he had never wanted. Who was a living reminder of his previous life. If he had a beautiful family now. Norm had taken care of you, he did the best he could. Compared to spider, you were very shy and quiet. Reserved in your business…always afraid to dislike your father. You didn't have a bad relationship with your siblings, they had always liked and loved you. Very much so. But sometimes even they could tell the differences between the two of you.

"Look, dad made this bracelet for me, the same as the one he has. He made one for all of us siblings," says Kiri. They were only 10 years old, and they were sitting playing with some toys. Jake was sitting not far away, he was with norm. "It's very pretty," you say, taking Kiri's hand and looking at the pretty bracelet your sister had. For a moment you look at your wrist and see it empty. "Why don't you have one?" asks Kiri, the question was innocent. You look at your sister curiously and raise your shoulders. "I don't know… maybe dad didn't want to make one for me" you say. Kiri is a little surprised, and gets up and runs to her father. Jake sees Kiri come up to him and opens his arms to hug her. You are walking slowly behind Kiri. Keeping your distance, you knew dad never offered you a hug.

"Why doesn't Y/N have a bracelet… she's my sister too," asks Kiri. Jake is a little surprised, and gives a quick glance at your face. You watch as your father looks at you nervously. "Oh… I forgot. But I promise I'll make one for her" says Jake, this answer was enough to calm Kiri down, but for you it was the beginning of many promises that your father wasn't going to keep. Like going for a walk with you, or spending that night with you. He never showed up, yet you went to look for him in the family hut. That day he had promised to visit you, but it had already been 3 hours and he didn't show up, "uncle norm… dad is taking too long" you complained. Waiting for your father sitting in the lab. "I know…but he'll come quietly" says Norm, he knew Jake wasn't going to show up anytime soon. He always did this, but it didn't stop you from getting up and running to the hut where he knew your father would be.

When you arrived in the distance you noticed that everyone was inside so you approached. The first to notice your presence was neteyam who quickly got up to hug you. "Y/n!!! y/n!!!" says the boy, excited that his sis is there. Jake and neytiri noticed your presence. " Dad!!!" you greet him with a huge smile on your face, you loved your father so much. You watch as neytiri takes jake by the arm. As she whispered something in his ear, something you could hear. "I don't want her here…go somewhere else" says neytiri. Your face changes to one of sadness in a matter of seconds…you knew she didn't like you. But was the disappointment that much? You watch as your father approaches you, kneeling in front of you. "Dad…you said you were going to visit me" you speak. Jake strokes his face and sighs. "I know…but I'm busy right now" Jake says.

"Y/N can stay and play" shouts lo'ak from the other side of the hut. You were getting excited by lo'ak's comment, but you see your father's face turn serious. "Y/n go to the lab…I'll come another day to visit you" says jake, taking your arm to pull you a little away from the entrance. "But dad…you said that last time" you start to speak, you couldn't stop the tears from gathering in your eyes. Neytiri sees the situation and moves a little closer to Jake. "I will go tomorrow…ok? Just go and rest" Jake tries to convince you. "But I want to be with you" you raise your arms, to try to give him a hug. But jake pulls away… you whine silently, while your little eyes start to leak. "Why don't you love me?" you ask your father. Jake stays silent and gives neytiri a look. The woman signals him to answer. "I…I" Jake tries to speak. "You never loved me…you don't love me. Why? WHY?" you scream, and cry. At this point you were having a meltdown. You were a 10 year old girl, who just wanted to go for a walk with her father.

Jake was under a lot of pressure. You were crying, you wouldn't stop. So the first thing that came out of his mouth was something that marked your whole existence. "Because I have my family…they are my family. You…you're just you" says Jake, shouting a little. Your tears stop immediately, looking up to see your father. You wipe your tears a little. "I'm sorry… I don't mean to upset you" you speak, lowering your gaze. Jake didn't know what to say, he had just made a mistake. And now he didn't know what to do. Norm had gone out looking for you, and to his bad luck he had heard everything. So when you turn to go back to the lab, you run into Norm. You run to him, raising your arms so he can carry you, Norm takes you in his arms, and gives you a tight hug. As you begin to cry. Norm gives Jake a disappointed look and continues on his way back to the lab.

"Why did you say that?" says Neytiri. Jake turns to look at neytiri. "I didn't mean it… it's just that" Jake feels bad. He knows he didn't have to treat you like that, you weren't to blame for anything. You were just a child. "She's still your daughter… and always will be," says Neytiri walking away from her partner. Leaving Jake lost in thought. This is what marked an awkward beginning to the relationship you and Jake had. You grew up always trying to get his attention and always expecting something from him. You tried to keep up with your brothers. Always chasing them wherever they went. Watching how your father practiced with them, how he spent time with them. How he would tell him how good they were, how proud he was of them. You always kept your distance, sitting on a rock. Watching and wishing he felt that way about you too. You didn't want to interrupt anything, so you got up and went back to the village.

You go to look for Kiri, you had planned to go for a walk with her to a nice meadow not too far away. When you arrive at the hut, you stand at the entrance. Neytiri sees your presence, the woman sees that you were stuck to one of the edges, somewhat confused. "Hello y/n" says neytiri. You greet her, and smile a little. Neytiri felt a little bad for you… It had been 15 years already, and she had to admit that she had grown very fond of you. Their contempt for you had disappeared. You were a very good and quiet girl. It bothered her a little that Jake didn't spend as much time with you as he did with his other children. "Come here…sit here" says neytiri inviting you to sit next to her. You join her, you see that neytiri is preparing something to eat. "Kiri went out for a moment, she will be right back" says neytiri. You start helping her, wrapping some kind of dough. "Were you with your father?" asks neytiri.

"Mmm yes… something like that" you speak sadly. Neytiri knows you only spy from a distance, she arranges a piece of hair behind your ear. You smile a little, you were glad to know that at least she did show a little affection for you. "Y/N are you here!!!!Let's go!!!" says kiri approaching the entrance of the hut. You look at neytiri. "Go…be very careful" says the woman as you get up, and run off with kiri.

"Where are we going?" you ask Kiri. "It's a surprise!!!" says your sister as you both walk through the branches of the trees. Luckily for you, you had become perfectly enveloped in the life of Pandora. You lived like a navi. You both arrived at a beautiful place, but so much beauty had to have some danger and that was the big cracks in the ground. Up in the trees, they are adorned by beautiful flora. There were all kinds of colors, the fauna lived in harmony and the temperature was perfect. You and Kiri settled on a branch and sat down to talk.

After a while you decided to walk a little, your legs were asleep. You moved around the branch, joking with Kiri. Everything was fine and it looked like it was going to be a quiet afternoon. Until you accidentally slip off the branch and fall from a height of 14 feet, falling directly into one of the cracks. Kiri tried to hold you up, but it all happened so fast. The girl quickly brings you to the ground, and sees that you are trapped. You had fallen very hard and the fall had been very hard. Your leg was broken, and because of the position you had fallen. You could not move easily. Kiri wanted to pull you out, but the pain you felt was overwhelming.

"Kiri help me!!!" you cry, while trying to hold Kiri's hand. The girl is on the ground, trying to pull you out of that hole. "I'm going to get dad… calm down!!!" says kiri, trying to reassure you. The girl runs to get her father. While you stood there, you knew it was serious. You couldn't move your left leg, you swear it had broken in two. Because the pain was consuming you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to regulate your breathing. After 20 minutes, you hear screaming. "Y/N…Y/N!!!" You hear your father's voice. While you also hear neytiri calling your name. Kiri had run as fast as she could, to call her parents.

You see a head approaching the crevice. It was jake, the man was already on the ground. Stretching out his hand for you to grab. You with what little strength you had grab your father's hand. "I'm going to get you out of here…easy kiddo" He holds you tight as he slowly pulls you up. You cry out in pain, as he lifts you into the air. "Ahgg" a choked cry comes out of your throat, as he settles you on the ground. Where neytiri rushes over to you, caressing your face. "It's okay…you're going to be fine" The pain had become unbearable. You were crying and moaning. Jake could tell that the fraturation was severe, the bone had broken and torn a bit of your skin. And you were starting to bleed out.

He pulled out a piece of cloth he had around his waist. He was going to try to stop the bleeding, so he could take you back to the village. They put some pressure on the wound. You scream, and stand up on your shoulders pushing his hands. "Let go of me!!!" you scream. "Y/N…calm down" jake is a bit desperate, he had to do things fast, in order to stop the hermoragy. So he goes back to trying to put pressure on you. You start to cry more, your tears wouldn't stop. "Don't…don't hurt me. Don't do it" you cry, this makes Jake stop in his tracks. How would he hurt you? Is that what you thought of him? Neytiri noticing what was happening, pushes Jake away and takes care of the situation herself. In a few seconds you pass out. The pain was too much to bear.

As you stood up you could feel how sore your body was, you could also feel that your foot was bandaged. Norm had helped you, and healed you. Jake insisted that you rest in the family hut. You opened your eyes slowly, taking in your environment. You noticed that you were in your father's hut. You saw a familiar silhouette. Lo'ak was sitting next to you, stroking your hair. The boy noticing that you had woken up, calls out to his father. "Dad…she's awake" says your brother happy to see you better. Jake runs over to your side. Lo'ak gets up, running to call the other family members. "Y/N sweetheart…how are you feeling?" says Jake. You don't answer him. "Y/n…I want to apologize…for all these years. I know I haven't been the best father. But…I know I made a mistake. You're not to blame for anything" you're looking at your father, who was teary-eyed. "It was my mistake…please let me be a better father," Jake speaks, hoping for some answers. You take his hand and give it a squeeze. "I love you dad…forgive me" you speak, jake feels his heart break into a thousand pieces.

Jake comes over and gives you a hug. Then a kiss on the forehead. "Don't apologize…you don't have to. You should never apologize to me" jake gives you a kiss on your hand. It was going to take a long time for you two's relationship to strengthen and grow. It was going to be a long road, but at least now you knew your father could love you.

[asvterias]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟥: 𝖮𝗎𝗋 𝖥𝖺𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖥𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗌

the cast // series masterlist

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4 || chap. 5 || chap. 6 || chap. 7 || chap. 8

‼️ DISCLAIMERS FOR THIS CHAPTER ‼️

Main Characters Deaths, Just An Overall Sad Chapter & Angsty Ending

word count: 4.5k+

tag list: @s0r0ws @starvviss @kjisbae17 @lov3rgiiirl @starless-nightz @random-girls-loves

author’s note: anyways, i hope you liked this chapter! please don’t be a silent reader and interact within the chapter. also, i hoped you cried immensely because that was the ideal intention of this chapter; to make it as depressing as it could possibly get (for now 😉)

🌊 🐚 ✘ 🔥🗡️

CHAPTER 3, EPISODE ONE

Everyone’s huddled up in the car with your parents in the front seats and the children in the back. You hated the middle seat so you told Grover to get comfortable there, for the greater good, and you sat on the left side, right behind your mother.

Right now, Grover is updating you and Percy about everything demigod-related.

“My job has been to guide you to this moment. It’s always an emotional rollercoaster for young demigods, so providing a support system is really–“

“Who are you?” Percy interrupts him.

Grover stared blankly at your brother, “I’m Grover. I’m your best friend and–“

“What are you?” The blonde recorrects.

“That is a very good question,” You chirped up, “I would like to revisit my previous question.”

“No, Y/N, let it go!”

“I’m asking the important questions here!”

“Irrelevant questions!”

“To answer your question, Y/N, no, I was born like this,”

“You sure? You know parents tend to lie a lot too,”

“I’m fully aware of adult tendencies to lie frequently, but I was born like this. I’m serious.”

He removes his tam, revealing two small goat horns. “I’m a satyr, and I’m your protector, both of you.”

“You’re our protector?” Your brother asked rhetorically.

“If I hadn’t gotten you kicked out of school, you’d never have survived the night. And what’s chasing us now would have found you there easily.”

“Oh, because that’s so comforting to hear.” You cross your arms.

Percy turns his head to the car window and Grover looks dejected at the action.

“I’m sorry.” Grover breathes out, sincerity laced in his tone, “Usually, I can sense danger coming a mile away, but this time…Well none of us saw Dodds’ coming.

“So you knew about that…creature?” You inquired, gaining Percy’s attention back onto his friend.

“That thing that Dodds turned into, you saw it happen? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I saw some of it.”

“What part did you see? Where she flung me across the sky or when she attacked Percy?”

“Well, yes and no. The Mist kept her hidden even from us until it was too late.”

“I think I have a concussion from that,” You wince at the memory, holding the back of your head. “Besides, what the hell is Mist?!”

“The Mist is a veil that hides the magical world from the human world. My legs, Dodds’ wings, Even Dodds’ absence, but it isn’t supposed to hide things from me. That never happens. Something more powerful is at work here.”

“Maybe we’re the power sources.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, right,” Percy scoffs.

“The sooner we get you two to camp, the better off you’re–“

“Camp?! Who’s going to camp?!” You backtracked.

With a baffled expression, Grover turned to your parents, completely unimpressed by their timing, “You told them about camp, right?”

“We were getting there!” Your parents shouted simultaneously at Grover.

Grover nods his head, leaning back into the seat.

“Camp is a sanctuary for half-bloods. A safe space where you can learn who you are and what the world is like on the other side of the Mist.”

“Wait, hold up this an actual summer camp with mosquitoes and other dangerous animals lurking in the woods?!” You deadpanned. “Nah, you can keep that, I’m not going.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Your mom states.

“Uh, it’s not far, actually, just a little way past the bend up there.” Grover directs your mother.

“Mom, what else haven’t we talked about?” Your mother, Sally stayed quiet, anxiously glimpsing at her son. “What else haven’t you told us?”

“There are more secrets?!”

“Oh, there’s more like you wouldn’t believe, sweetie.” Jessica grins.

“Jess, that’s not helping whatsoever!” Sally exclaims.

“Sorry, it just slipped out of my mouth.”

“And you wonder why Y/N is a mini you.”

A flash of blinding light appears from mid-sky and disposes of a creature, which instantly starts running on all fours, chasing after the speeding car.

“Is that the Minotaur?!”

“Holy shit!” You and your mom said simultaneously in bewilderment.

“Once the attacks start, they never let up. Okay? Dodds was just the beginning.”

“Then who’s the freaking ending?! Because I’m ready to slain as many monsters as necessary.”

“He is next. He- he is brutal, he is relentless–“

“He’s still wearing underpants.”

“Out of all things, you could have noticed, Percy, you chose that?! Us trying not to die should be your main priority, not if the Minotaur is playing goddamn dress up!”

Percy and Grover kept their eyes on the large bulky monster.

“It’s gone!” Percy shouts, astonished.

“Gone?! Gone where?! I hoped it vanished back to wherever it came from!”

“Like it’s ever that easy!”

Then, the Minotaur’s loud footsteps and rough grunts halted and it almost calmed everyone’s racing heart rates.

“I think it’s gone for good now.”

Until it reappeared, now gaining up on the speeding car, The Minotaur ran up closer to the car front, beside Sally’s car door, aiming for severe damage.

“You just had to say something, didn’t you?!”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen?!”

“Because you jinxed us!”

“Don’t blame me because I’m stating the obvious!”

“I will push you out of this car!”

“Do it! I dare you!”

“Little Blondie, don’t tempt me with a good time!”

“Who are you calling Little?!”

“Someone who hasn’t had their growth spurt yet.”

“Hey, I’m still developing!” Percy gasps.

“Yeah, just very, very slowly.”

“Can we sacrifice Y/N to The Minotaur?”

“Oh please, you don’t have the balls to do it anyways,” You scoffed, “Besides, you need me. I’m always saving your dumbass, you can’t get rid of me!”

“Stop! Nobody is going to push anyone out of this car!”

“He started it–“

“No, I didn’t you, liar–“

“That’s it! Don’t make me come back there! I don’t care who started it, just know that it's ending!”

“Is there any more insight you’d like to add, Grover?” Sally calmly questions, acting like her children and wife didn’t have a screaming match a few seconds ago. Your family was truly a chaotic mess whenever they wanted, dismissing the matter as if impending death wasn’t lingering over their shoulders.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then, go right ahead,”

“The Mythomagic cards were training. Everything has been training for what’s still ahead of you.”

“What’s ahead of us?!”

“Kids…”

“I’m actually 24,” Grover confesses quickly, causing two heads to turn in unexpectancy.

You and Percy shared the same shocked expression, “Wait? What?”

“Hold on, please.”

The Minotaur roars loudly.

“Moonlight…listen to me.” your mom looks at you through the mirror as your gaze hesitantly meets hers. “You and Percy are forbidden children, monsters are going to attack you every day, this camp can protect you both.”

“Why can’t you and Sally come with us then?” you bargained with her, tears forming in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine, much less experience your life without your mother and Sally. The same women who nurtured you since you were babies and taught you everything you knew. You refused to give up on them, everything they did was to protect and love you, and now it was your turn.

Sally starts to talk, eyes stuck on the road, “We humans are not allowed there. Only demigods like you two.”

“But we don’t wanna leave you two.” Percy persisted.

“You’re our moms.”

“You’re gonna have to, that Minotaur isn’t gonna stop until he kills both of you.”

All of a sudden, a collision hit the car with enough brute force to send the car off the road and everything went black. It was all so quick, the collision, the swiveling of the car and landing on the side of the road, far from bypassers to rescue.

The rain pattering against the car turned into a heavy rainpour as everyone in the car, hanging upside down with the seat belt anchoring them, remained still, all unconscious.

After a while, the dulling pain in your head sharply woke you up, being the first to recover from the crash. Holding your head in pain as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling the blood trickle from your head, surveying your surroundings as you saw Percy and Grover still unconscious. Quickly unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of your seat, repeating the same action to your younger brothers.

One by one, you carefully got everyone from the car as they began to wake up. A growl from the distance urges you to move faster as you help your other mother, Sally, get out of the damaged car.

Sally, Percy, and Grover were recovering, standing on their feet, checking for any injuries and your mom was the last one who needed rescuing.

“Mom…” you shake her but her body is motionless as the tears well up in your eyes.

You felt Sally’s arm pushing you back, sending you into Percy’s and Grover’s embrace as you nervously observed.

“Come on, come on, Jess…” Sally murmurs, kneeling down, searching for a pulse. “You gotta survive, we have children together, we can’t lose you right now.”

“Is she okay?” Percy chirps up, deciding to speak for you.

You found everything incomprehensible around you, your senses became deafening and a high-pitched ringing in your head matched the loud heart beating in your chest.

When Sally stayed silent, it only worsened your anxiety, “Mom, is she okay?!” Percy speaks again, adding some base in his voice yet his tone slightly wavers.

“She has a fading pulse…” Sally whispers, sparing a sad glance at you and quickly turning back to Jessica, “It’s decreasing rapidly,”

Dropping to the muddy slippery ground on your knees, tears quickly filling the brim of your eyes, threatening to fall as you moved closer to her.

“Mommy…” you cradle her face into your chest, saddened by her face, eyes closed as blood trickles down her forehead.

“We can revive her, right!” Your voice cracks, whipping your head to Sally, “Tell me we can revive her!”

“Y/N…” Sally sighs deeply, trying to contain her tears. You turn around, looking down at your mother, resting on your lap, body motionless yet her face looks peaceful.

“No! We- I can save her. We can do heart-to-heart compressions,” you shake your head, starting to do heart-to-heart compressions. “Why isn’t she waking up? Mommy, this isn’t funny anymore now, you have to wake up and help us. Please I can’t do this without you, I can’t do this whole new demigod thing without you.” your voice was dry, as you leaned down, blowing air into her mouth, hoping for a miracle to occur.

You didn’t truly believe in miracles, but for your mother, you’d start believing it. Right now, you would do whatever it took to bring her back even if it meant wishing on the impossible.

“We didn’t do plenty of things yet, I wanted you and Sally to meet my first girlfriend, attend my graduation, be there when I move out and eventually get married, and get grandkids from Percy because we both know I’m not going through that torture.”

Your senses became intensely heightened, catching onto Grover’s whisper to Sally, ignoring him as you spoke up.

“I refuse to leave her alone, she isn’t dead, just having some problems waking up and getting a pulse back.” You were in extreme denial, “Come on, mum, you focus on her face, giving her air and I’ll do her chest,” you beckoned Sally forward.

“Sweetheart…she’s already….gone.”

“She’s my mom and Percy’s mom, your wife. She wasn’t supposed to die this early. If all you’re gonna do is stand there and be useless, don’t bother talking to me.” It wasn’t intentional to snap at your other mother, but your emotions were driving you crazy and brazen.

“You’re the sun to my moon, Mommy, I can’t shine when you’re not there with me. Y-you promised me, you pinky promised that we were all going to survive, but you lied. Why did you lie to me?” You sobbed. Despite being physically exhausted, you weren’t giving up on trying to revive your mom, she would have never given up on you so you would stop trying until you had something, anything; a pulse, a gasp, her eyes shooting up. “Remember…” You weakly asked, holding onto the moon-shaped necklace on your neck, staring at your mom’s sun-shaped necklace.

The sky crackled with slight thunder as the rain poured down heavier. Finally understanding the meaning of your nickname, you sobbed desperately until the broken cracks of your voice gave out.

There was no sunshine without her moonlight, always them being in a pair, nothing without the other. Sadly, you lost your sunshine, darkening your moonlight to its deepest depths, harvesting it into something vengeful and heartless. Something that even scared you to a certain extent, like this was another new side flourishing because of the horrible circumstances.

You rested your mom on the ground, ignoring the cold rainpour.

“She’s gone…” Sally cries, grabbing your arm and pushing you into her body for a hug. You cried into the hug, tightening your grip as your wails echoed throughout the forest. Maybe this was all a nightmare, where you’d wake up and relax in reality. This was the time that your mom needed to wake you up and reassure you that she was right there, staying with you and protecting you.

Your chest clenched against your rib cage, devastation wracked throughout your entire body as the tears relentlessly spilled out.

“But she- she can’t be gone!” You hiccup, eyes glossing over with fresh tears, feeling another arm snuggle around your side.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” she caressed your face.

“What kind of demigod I am, if I was blessed with all these supernatural powers, can’t even save my Mom from death? What kind of daughter am I to just stand by and watch her own mother die? I don’t want this demigod life anymore, please take it all away if it means my mother is coming back, to me, to home. I’m so fucking tired and I just wanna go home! Home is wherever the four of us are!”

“Don’t you ever say that again, you did everything you could, your perseverance is one of your strongest qualities that Jessica adored very much. She wouldn’t want you to doubt yourself like this nor would I,” Sally reassures you, resting a thumb on your cheek, “Our beautiful daughter, she’s so proud of you, I want you to know that.”

Your eyes were puffy and red from tears as you listened to your mother’s words of encouragement and reassurance.

Much to your dismay, another loud roar broke the semi-family grievance, reminding them of the harsh reality.

“We have to go now!” Grover hastily urges.

“I’m not leaving my mom here like this,” you point to her still figure on the ground.

“We won’t, I promise you, sweetie. I’ll give her a proper burial, but right now we have to go!” Her tone was urgent as she quickly scanned the dark forest with the illumination from the car light.

You hurriedly rushed towards your mother’s still figure on the muddy ground, leaning down.

“Goodbye, Mom,” you whisper hoarsely, kissing her forehead for the last time. You stared down at her neck, gazing at the sunlight necklace she wore yanked it off, and shoved the meaningful jewelry into your back pocket. Your heart broke again, realizing she can’t respond, despite being in extreme denial.

Percy struggled to plant you on your feet as Sally walked over to Grover.

“Grover, I am entrusting you to protect my children, my only son and only daughter.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Jackson, Percy, and Y/N will be totally safe at camp–“

“Swear it.” She commands.

“What’s happening?”

“Swear it, Grover! Keep my children safe from anyone or anything that comes for them, that wants to harm them, that looks at them in the wrong way. Do you understand me?”

“I swear!” Grover persists, with determination and sincerity in his voice.

Sally nods at the boy, venturing over to you and Percy.

“I gotta go now,”

“Go? What do you mean go? Y/N stop her from going on this suicide mission,” He stares at you, waiting for a response. The first time you didn’t respond to your brother’s words caught him off guard, knowing you’ll always be his first defender.

The boy winces seeing your shaken body and red puffy eyes. It didn’t take a genius to know that you were still traumatized from witnessing your mom’s death. Seeing this sad broken-hearted face of yours, devastated Percy beyond any words to ease the pain. All those times, you’d reassured and defended him countless times, and yet he was speechless about how to comfort you right now. He felt like such a horrible brother to you.

“Your sister isn’t in charge, I am and what I say goes!”

“But–“

“This is no buts! You’re gonna be brave now. Remember what I taught you, remember the stories I told you. Especially the stories, they will tell–“

“No way! Mom, I’m not leaving you, not like how we left Mother stranded and alone to die.”

“Perseus!” She snapped, tired of his persistent attempts, cupping his face, “Listen to me! You…are not broken. You are singular. You’re a miracle and you are my son. Hold fast, brave the storm.”

“And Y/N,” She caresses your face, her saddened expression increasing at your blank eyes, “You are not neglected in this family, you’re just as important. You are one of a kind, my beautiful baby girl. You are my daughter and I don’t ever want you to forget that.”

Those words melted in your heart and words rambled from you without hesitation, the guilt of everything came crashing down.

“I’m so sorry, mother, for not being able to protect any of us. I failed at what I was best at.”

“You’re a kid, be a kid, stop worrying if you’re not going to save everyone. That’s too much of a heavy burden on yourself, it’s not good for your mentality. Live life, get a girlfriend and don’t force yourself to grow up too fast because you'll regret it. Let me tell you something unfair; you can’t save everyone all the time. I love you two so much,”

“We love you too.”

Just like that, The Minotaur had the worst timing of moments erupting with a loud search roar.

“We need to move!”

“Give me your coat.”

“Why?” Percy asks but removes his coat anyway, “What are you gonna do?”

“He smells half-blood, that’s what he’s tracking, yeah?”

“That’s right.”

Sally grabs the coat from her blonde son, “So if he smells you in two directions at once, maybe I can confuse him, buy us both a little time to get away.”

“Mom, please don’t…we can’t afford to lose another parent on the same night.” Percy pleads, stepping forward, gesturing to you, “Y/N is one of the strongest people I know, and a few hours into this demigod madness, she’s broken, possibly going to recover from trauma at the camp where we’re supposed to rediscover our true potential for a man who wasn’t even here our whole lives.” He whispers, a string of desperation in his voice, “You can’t do this to us���please don’t do this to us. You’re all we have left.”

“Hey! It’ll be okay.” She reassures the blonde boy with a weak smile, “Y/N bounces back, she always does. For the first time, she needs you more than you need her right now, so be her anchor for right now, and don’t ever let go.”

Another yell echoes throughout the forest and trees falling down a few feet away meant the Minotaur was getting unbelievably closer. Your heart raced in your chest, once you saw the bulky overgrown monster, standing on its hind feet, intimidating everyone who bore witness.

Sally wastes no time, giving Percy a forehead kiss and then moving over to repeat the same action with you.

“Go now!” She shoves you away into Percy’s and Grover’s arms, now facing the Minotaur as the trio escapes into the rainy forest night.

Her plan for using Percy’s coat as bait to seemingly distract him and draw him away from the two demigods was successfully executed.

After maintaining some far distance from your mother, Sally, and the Minotaur, the trio still kept on running, nobody turning back. Until a loud roar reverberated across the forest broke your concentration on getting to safety and intensified your worries for your mother. You stopped running, turning around as your heart hammered inside your chest, the adrenaline pumping.

Despite being miles away, you and Percy viewed the fight, flinching when the monster knocked your mother down with its horns.

The Minotaur held in its hand, lifting up something in the air…someone more life-like…that’s someone who was your mother, Sally! You gasped and shoved at the revelation, wondering about your mother’s fate and you continued to watch the heartbreaking scene. Your body wasn’t acting upon cooperation with your mind, telling you to run away before it gets you next or attempting to save your mother. Having already lost one parent was devastating as it is, and losing your other parent would cause a lifetime of trauma for you.

Your heart clenched in fear as Sally struggles to escape from his grasp.

You felt Percy’s scared face hide into the fabric of your cotton shirt, clenching onto the shirt as he squeezed his eyes as tightly as possible.

For the last time, your mother, Sally looked over at you, stretching out a hand, guiding you out to safety, content you’ll be fine. Just like that, she closed her eyes, slowly disintegrating into gold ashes. Huh, that was weird. Humans don’t shrivel up and fade into ashes like that. That definitely was magic.

It was quiet, the rain pattering over you was now a background noise as you struggled to process the incident.

You gulped down the harsh lump in your throat. “It’s…mother’s gone, too…” You informed Percy, tone hoarse as he slowly pulled away from your body.

He looked ahead again, seeing nothing, Sally wasn’t there and the Minotaur was staring into nothing, seemingly distracted.

“Where did she go? What happened to her?”

“…She disappeared into gold ashes.” You whispered slowly, trying to comprehend your mother’s demise in your mind. Once again, your vision becomes blurry and the tears start to form at the loss of yet another parent. “It looked so unrealistic,”

After that Percy began to speak, but your focus wasn’t even directed on him, but rather at that charging furious Minotaur, hungry for more blood.

The pain and suffering became a dangerous mix of anger and hatred directed at the Minotaur.

Grover’s statements fall on deaf ears, partially drowned out by the heavy rainfall. “Y/N and Percy come on, we’re almost there.” you glance at your blonde brother who holds the same on his face.

‘So what happens when the protector is unable to protect? Do they give up instant hope and cower in shame? Or do they fight back, willingly seeking a second chance to redeem themselves? Whether you make a change or just be a bystander like others? This time the answer to that is simple, mourn your losses later and avenge them now. For all you can do right now is fight on the battlefield, because this is no place to cry and admit defeat.

No, you refused to give up hope and you weren’t going down without a fight. This monster had already taken your worlds away, so you had nobody else to lose.

Grabbing the pen from your pocket, holding it out, and witnessing it transform into a golden sword at will. The fight with the Minotaur was brutal and intense, alongside the heavy downpour of rain that attempted to slow down the intensity of this fight. Despite double-teaming the monster, he resisted surrender, determined to win and kill you both. Surprisingly, you gained the agility to climb onto his back while Percy distracted him.

Somehow, you gained the ultimate advantage with the lighting sword in your hand and stabbed the monster in its eye, ignoring his roar of pain. If anything, its pain only further encouraged you to continue.

Too full of adrenaline, you grab his two horns, gripping them and pulling them out with your utmost strength. A new sudden strength you just obtained. Gasping in shock was quickly outlived when your sword slipped out of your hand and dropped onto the muddy ground, disappearing from your eyesight. Stumbling onto his feet, inflicted by the pain, you groaned, gripping the monster by his rough skin as he attempted to shake you off.

“Percy the sword!” You yelled at him. Your brother throws the sword upwards as you catch the weapon.

You stab the monster in the neck, wincing at his loud screeches, but continue to stab his neck. Once the monster was deemed weak enough, you sliced the sword right through his neck, seizing the opportunity of successfully killing it. To be certain of killing that wretched monster, you deactached its horn from its head with your uppermost strength, then using it to pierce its own eye, another terrifying wail leaves its mouth.

This was all this stupid monster’s fault. If it hadn’t chased after you or slammed itself into the car, your mom would be alive. If it didn’t have such a bloodthirst for demigods, Sally, your mother would still be alive. Alive. Alive. Alive. You just wished your moms were alive, to see you mature into such a courageous daughter to avenge their deaths.

Soon enough, the monster staggered on its feet and its body began to disintegrate into black dust before your eyes.

“Y/N!” The voice becomes disoriented as you stumble on the ground, two arms catching you as you faint, everything fading away into a black abyss.

“Is she okay?”

“Did she do it alone?”

“Is the blonde boy, okay too?

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah, he’s okay.”

Grasping onto your fading eyesight, there were four shadowy figures above you, all their voices sounded childish except the girl’s voice which sounded very mature.

“They must be the ones.”

“Hush, Annabeth.”

“They’re waking. Everyone give them some space, please.”

Obeying the command, the four unknown kids gave the siblings some space, revealing a half-man with the…bottom of a horse. Okay, it’s finally official, you’ve completely lost it!

“Welcome to camp, Percy Jackson and Y/N Matthews. We’ve been expecting you two.”

Oh my god! Who are these people?! What in the absolute fuck is going on?! This demigod shit is not cut out for me.

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto any other platforms without my permission.

[nerdieforpedro]

Her smile was worth it

Pero Tovar (modern AU) x plus size female reader (La jefa)

Word Count: 1882

Warnings: DARK FIC, mobs and their enforcers, mentions of general violence and graphic violence, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of injuries, solving problems Tovar style, comfort food and tea

Summary: Pero Tovar only has a few people he chooses to interact with willingly. The bookstore owner is one of them. Someone made a very stupid mistake, Tovar will handle it and still have his tea.

Notes: This was written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. My color was Mob Enforcer and the prompt was “Hurt/Comfort” and “Who did this to you?” We're longer than a Drabble again, we dribbled quite a bit. Such is Nerdie.

I may have leaned too hard into the ‘hurt portion’ but we’ll see. 👀

Main Masterlist/ Pero Tovar Masterlist/ Writing Challenges

The only good thing about doing collections, was that most of the time, Pero wasn’t using violence. Just intimidation. The shopkeepers knew why he was here and knew the amount they needed to pay to The Family. It’s been the same amount for the past six months, in was raised temporarily for some needed repairs on the club the Valentino family owned. The actual story was that a few of the younger members had been ordered to torture a few members of a rival family and went overboard. The walls, floors and everything needed to be scrubbed. 

Tovar’s been with the Valentino family for fifteen years and as one of their premier enforcers for the last seven working his way up from errand boy. His height and broad frame discourage crossing him, and even if someone is dumb enough to do so, they find themselves bloodied, battered and with at least one thing broken. 

Today’s last stop for collections was planned and one that Pero normally did by himself. The bookstore owner also functions as the town’s librarian since the town doesn’t have one. It’s a smaller town and to get to a library you must drive two towns over. She normally offers him tea and some type of baked goodies. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s grown to have a slight sweet tooth. Maybe. Really, he could care less about the sweets, he usually chats up the owner and barrows books. Considering he is collecting money from her, he felt he should pay but she always said no. He got the sense it wasn’t out of fear, she liked knowing his thoughts on different books. At first, he didn’t like the idea of discussing them. The enforcer wasn’t sure if he could really talk about different themes, symbols, characters and the like he often heard people talk about when discussing these books. 

La jefa (the boss) as he often greeted her didn’t judge him on his answers or lack of them. He’d talk the best he could about what he read, even if he didn’t understand it all. She listens and sips her tea, then asks him questions to draw more answers out of him. It fustrated him at first. But he grew to enjoy the bi-weekly sit downs with her. 

The chime of the bell goes off as he opens the door. The sun is at Pero’s back as he enters the bookstore. He comes early in the afternoon around two. She’s not at the counter, though the shop is listed as open. Calling out for her, she doesn’t answer, and he sucks his teeth. It isn’t like her at all. There’s no tea out either. There are no books that appear out of place and making his way behind the counter, nothing appears to be wrong with the register.

The enforcer goes into the back of the shop, he only knew where the bathroom was back here. He was looking for anything that resembled an office, as he walked down the hallway, there was a sniffle. As he kept going, they got louder. Taking a breath while he stood in front of a door that was slightly ajar, he tried to prepare himself. Maybe it was a bad day, maybe she got a papercut or was reading a sad book or something. Tovar instantly knew none of those were the case when he opened the door. 

Sitting behind the desk, her shoulders were slumped, and her hands were covering her face. He saw the scabs on the back of her hands, defensive marks. “Jefa dejame ver. (Boss, let me have a look).” Her sniffles stop for a moment as she shakes her head, turning her body away from him in the swivel chair. His eyes widen at the mark on her neck he spies it when she turns, it looks like it could be from a palm. Moving to her side, Pero places a hand on her shoulder, “I need to see cariño (sweetheart) or just give me a name. Who did this to you?” She finally drops her hands, but she turns her face away.

“I don’t want you to see. The envelope is on the desk Pero. Please.”  It is on the table, and he’ll put it in his jacket shortly - it is why he came here in the first place, but he can’t just leave like this. On top of her being one of a small number of people who he wants to be around, it could get around that the protection money the shops pay isn’t worth a damn because you could get beat in your own shop, and nothing will happen to whoever did it.

“Then tell me a name.” It’s sterner this time, but he’s released her shoulder and instead picked up her hand, his thumb tracing the scabs on her knuckles. She’d tried to fight back at least. She’s biting her lips when she finally looks at him, most of the discoloration is on the left side of her face though there’s a cut on her chin and one on her bottom lip. A large bruise is on her chest across her right clavicle, partly covered by her shirt. Pero’s able to keep his face motionless. “Por favor cariño (please sweetheart).” He doesn’t recognize the name she says, but he kisses her forehead and wraps an arm around her. “Gracias (thank you). I’ll be back princesa (princess).” 

Pero puts the envelope in his jacket pocket and heads out of the office. “Close the shop now and have the tea ready when I come back. Between eight and nine tonight.” He’s going to be quick about dropping the money off and he’s texted one of his associates with the name she gave. Within fifteen minutes, Pero has a picture to go with the name and a location. Marcello talks way too much, but he’s the best Tovar knows at tracking people.

Pero finds this man himself and tells Marcello to tell the higher ups that he needs to demonstrate a lesson in messaging with the family. He’ll need the basement and he’ll keep the clean up to a minimum. It’s not that there wouldn’t be blood. There might be too much blood so the powers at be approve the basement use but ask that Marcello and a second enforcer be there so that the man isn’t killed. There’s only murder when necessary and it wasn’t they viewed in this case. Pero sucked his teeth for the second time today but would make sure the man in question lives. Just not with all functioning limbs. 

After the submission of the money and subsequent torture was complete, the man’s body was bandaged by one of their doctors on the payroll and dropped off at his home, during a time they knew his family would be home with the message, “The Valentino family suffers no fools.” Pero carved it into his back to emphasize the point. He was still alive but would not be the same. Not after, as Tovar saw it, he’s violated one of his favorite places. 

La jefa has long closed her shop and made herself dinner. Now that she thought about it, she’s never made Pero any of her food, just cookies, brownies and the like. Since he said he was coming back, she would make extra. The worst that would happen would be that he would say he didn't want any.  It also dawned on her that she has not made a book recommendation today. She should pick one out before he comes, straightening out her mint green dress. Turning off the stove, she went downstairs to look for a book and saw Pero standing at the door ready to knock. It was a quarter after eight, he was glad he’d taken the extra time to shower. He didn’t want to be late, but he didn’t want to be dirty either. 

“Ah! Mi princesa del librios es bonita (My Princess of books is pretty). You have our tea ready tonight?” His question follows the chime of the bell above the door as she unlocks it and lets him in. She then locks it again and nods.

“I have tea and I made some extra for dinner. I didn’t pick out a book for you yet.” She seems a bit brighter than this afternoon but still trying to make sure she was facing him with her right side. Pero takes her left hand and tugs it a little, not hard, just enough so she faces him fully.

“Hermosa (gorgeous) you don’t have a bad side. Don’t worry about the book. I haven’t finished with the other one yet. I want my tea and I want to see what you made for dinner.” The corners of her mouth curve and finally she smiles, squeezing his hand and leading him up the stairs. Pero watches her walk up and into her living area. It’s cozy as it has books scattered about as well. 

“I don’t know if you like stew, but I made that and heated up some rolls. There’s butter too. I have water, apple juice, coke, and some rum.” The last option surprised him as he didn’t picture her drinking at all. Maybe she had a glass or two when she sat up here before bed. She poured herself a glass of water as Pero pointed to her glass and held up an empty bowel on the table. She filled both and they sat down across from each other. “I hope you enjoy Pero.”

“I don’t doubt that I will cariño.” The food went quickly as they ate, and she asked what other kind of foods he liked. Pero felt he might be getting greedy. Perhaps he’s been gluttonous of her attention each time he comes here. She gives it so willingly. 

Tonight’s tea is mint like her dress which makes Tovar chuckle as he takes up half of her loveseat sitting down. She takes up the other and they sip tea, speaking of past books they’ve read and things he may want to read. 

Even if he got an urgent call, he’ll ignore it because he’s having his tea. Pero Tovar doesn’t feel like an enforcer or a conduit for violence. He just has an arm around one of his favorite people as she places her head on his shoulder. The tough pads of his fingers touch the injured side of her face while he tells her that it’s been taken care of. He won’t tell her details. Tovar figures she can put it together. If he can just have moments like these where he’s just a man with someone he cares for, Pero can use that to sleep. He prays she can rest without crying or being scared. 

The loveseat has his feet hanging off outside of the blanket he found on the back of it. So far, he hasn’t heard her sniffle again. Pero carried her to bed after she fell asleep in his arms. The faint scent of mint mingling with the earthy smell of the books lulls him to sleep. He had blood on his hands again today, but it was fine. It was for her sake, and she hasn’t cried again.

It was worth it.

[my-my-my]

Could you talk about Aizen"s relationship with Shinji? What he thinks about him? etc

Sure! This ask gave me an itch to reread TBTP because (much to my dismay), I wish we saw Aizen and Shinji interact during TYBW. I hope we see some added content in the anime, but I'm not holding my breath lol.

This is going to be more of a ramble/word dump so I apologize if it's not cohesive!

TW: none!

I'm of the opinion that if there was anyone Aizen wanted to understand him (outside of Urahara), it would have been Shinji. I specifically think about this panel and how interesting it is that Kubo gave Aizen a sad look in his eyes. We don't really see sadness in Aizen, there's only one other scene where I vaguely recall him looking more sad/disappointed (vs him being bored/disappointed).

(This is from Ch -316/TBTP 10)

We know from Shinji's side, he was always wary and somewhat cautious around Aizen. He never trusted him fully and kept him at arms length for everything. On one hand, this leads him to his downfall, but I also read it as Shinji having an immediate gut reaction to not trust Aizen and Shinji could never shake that off. He can be professional with Aizen, but he mentally cannot handle anything beyond that. Something about Aizen felt so fundamentally off to Shinji that he could not get close to him.

So I wonder if this bothered Aizen as well... Aizen is someone who meticulously crafted his persona. He was known to be kind, hardworking and diligent, but something about this persona immediately gave a warning to Shinji.

But I'm not gonna defend Aizen and say he crafted the "perfect" persona - because even he (in a roundabout way) admits he didn't. Even subconscious traits of the "real" Aizen comes through with every interaction Aizen and Shinji would have had with each other, but because of the wall Shinji mentally puts between the two of them, he cannot discern these traits. So while this adds to Aizen's "loneliness complex", it gives him leeway to add in stand-ins with Kyoka Suigetsu. And that's what disappoints Aizen at his core - even his own Captain can't recognize the little things about him.

And this leads me to think that Aizen and Shinji were Lieutenant and Captain for a few centuries at least. We know that at Nanao's graduation from the academy, Aizen was already the Lieutenant of Squad 5:

(Ch. 652/The Theatre Suicide Scene 6)

So yes, Shinji may have had time to "understand" Aizen - but he doesn't. Even at the start of TBTP, Aizen asks Shinji what he's listening to and while Aizen doesn't understand jazz, instead of trying to get to "know" Aizen (even frivously), by asking him "what music do you even listen to then?" he tells him "why did you ask me that then?"

Another thing I noticed is that Aizen (during TBTP) asks a surprising amount of questions (it can be argued though that these are the hypnotized stand-ins asking). He's trying to gain as much knowledge as he can from other people, and Shinji isn't there to answer, or even acknowledge that he's asking questions. It's also "normal" for Aizen to be seen at the library, as Shunsui and the C46 didn't bat an eye at Aizen's alibi. While fundamentally Captain/Lieutenant relationships can really be any sort of dynamic (mentor/mentee, boss and personal assistant), I got the sense that Aizen didn't really "learn" much from Shinji about the ways of Soul Society. Shinji had a tight lip and only shared what needed to be shared likely for work-reasons.

And then there's their shikais! I found it fascinating how both of them have reality-altering shikais. Shinji's shikai being a complete distortion of senses, while Aizen's is subtle manipulation of senses. I don't really have any more to say for that, but I've interpreted this as their way of being honest with people. Shinji's manipulation of senses is very cognizant and deliberate - Shinji is blunt. Aizen's is subtle but traumatizing - you can't trust anything coming from Aizen.

I think though, Shinji's experience with Aizen shaped how he treats his Squad going forward. I have a soft spot for headcanons for how Squad 5 operates post-Aizen's incarceration. Shinji treats Momo much differently than he did with Aizen because he knows what it's like being used and completely victimized by Aizen. There's no point in him being on his guard against someone who was hurt just as badly as he was by Aizen's hand. There is a sense of camaraderie they share in that sense. No one (arguably) "knew" Aizen as much as they did because they worked with him in such close capacity. I'd love to know what lies and truths Aizen shared with them lol.

Sorry again for this ramble, but thank you for this ask! Wish we see/have more Squad 5 content, but alas!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Epilogue

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Word Count: 5,849

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So this is it, the epilogue, the end. I'm so sad to say goodbye to this series. I've really loved writing it, even if it kicked my ass a couple of times. I know I've said this already, but it definitely bears repeating - I'm so unbelievably grateful for the love and support you've all shown this series. Thanks so much - and I hope you enjoy this little peak into Dean and Y/N's lives a decade later. This ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. Lol! Enjoy! ❤️

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Spring, 10 Years Later

The rumbling engine of the Impala was silenced as Dean pulled into the garage and parked Baby in her spot. The camp had eight cars now, so they'd had to expand the garage two summers before. The cars got shuffled around all the time, but Baby always kept her spot on the end. Everyone knew it was her spot.

The late afternoon sun shone in through the garage windows as Dean removed the keys from the ignition and pushed them back into his black, denim jacket pocket.

Sam was sitting beside him and shot him a questioning look when Dean didn't immediately jump out. “Dean?” 

Dean nodded and then looked over at his little brother. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

Sam sighed. He'd already answered this question from his brother, in various forms, three or four times. 

The Deerling Survivors Camp, a small camp located almost seventy miles away, had sent a message to Dean a week earlier, requesting a face-to-face meeting. Dean had asked Sam to come along and they'd stayed overnight at the fledgling camp. The pseudo-leader there, just a young kid who’d been thrust into the role, had asked them to let Deerling join Camp Chitaqua, and after seeing the shape of the camp, Dean had agreed on the spot.

Years earlier the four smaller camps surrounding Chitaqua had joined them, expanding the camp by miles and miles and raising the population by more than two hundred people. It had been a big decision, and Dean had consulted with the council for a couple days before agreeing to the expansion. 

It was a very good decision in the end, since they now had enough land to plant six, four acre farm plots. They made sure to rotate crops, leaving one field fallow every season and using it for grazing pasture. But all that fertile land meant that the campers all had plenty of fresh vegetables. Their expanded size also allowed them to enlarge their barn, so they could now house and care for four cows and a bull, two horses, dozens of chickens, a rooster, two pigs, and eight sheep. 

They'd bartered and traded with other camps for most of their animals or found them wandering around alone and unclaimed. But they bought their sheep from a farmer living in what used to be Iowa. A lot of farmers had started over there, scratching out a new life from the soil, now that the world had started turning once again.

Seven years ago they'd finally succeeded in producing a vaccine. It had taken a lot of hard work. For three years, every single person that worked on it did so with nothing more than a promise of a better tomorrow. 

It had taken another two plus years to get the word and the vaccine out to people, but now most of the population was vaccinated. The vaccine had also been carried overseas. They couldn't be sure how things were going across the pond because communication was still very limited. But they'd heard rumors that it was going well. 

Some infrastructure was up and running again; they had electricity in some places, and some cities had running water again. There were even some places that had phone lines connected - in and around the bigger cities where people were beginning to congregate.

Things seemed to be progressing quickly out west in the former California, where they'd reportedly started broadcasting some form of Television again. Not very many people had TVs anymore to watch, but it seemed comforting to people just to know something resembling their former lives was returning. 

Not everything was perfect, of course. There was no centralized government, or structured, widespread laws. Most areas had variations of camps like Chitaqua with leaders in charge, or occasionally small, internally elected governments that ran the camp. Lawlessness still existed in a lot of places, but it was being beaten further back every day as groups banded together. 

There were also still some areas that were uninhabitable because massive groups of Croats still roamed there. The researchers that had created the vaccine were working on a cure for those who’d already been infected, but thus far they’d proved unsuccessful. Croat attacks still happened sometimes, but the vaccine meant that people just had to deal with the bite itself, making sure it was healing properly - something that was becoming easier as medical stations were springing up in and around larger populations as well, as doctors went back to healing people as they’d been trained to do.

Chitaqua had a physician, Dr. Turner, who lived in the camp. The Medical Tent was no more and instead the doctor’s office and their cache of medical supplies were now housed in a big log structure that had been tiled inside to keep it as clean and sanitary as possible. Patrick was happy to be rid of guard duties these days, working alongside Dr. Turner to watch over the health and well-being of the campers.

There weren’t many tents left nowadays either. They had a bunch stored away in case the camp ended up with a big influx of new campers and temporary housing was needed. But most people lived in log cabins of varying sizes, dotted over the two and a half square miles of the camp. There were well over five hundred people in the camp now, since amalgamating the four other camps. They also had a reputation for being a prosperous, strong community, so people tended to migrate there as well - which continued to add to their numbers.

Now, after the meeting with the Deerling camp, they’d be adding another ninety-six people to their ranks, inflating their population to nearly seven hundred people. Dean was worried about the fact that he’d made the decision to absorb the smaller camp without consulting the council this time. 

The council was a group made up of eight other people besides Dean. Sam and Y/N were on it, as well as Brandy, Risa, Dr. Turner, and three other campers who were there representing the hunters, the farmers and the builders.

Day-to day decisions were still handled by Dean, but he relied on the council for other bigger decisions - taking their thoughts, ideas and opinions into account before he ultimately made a decision. Agreeing to take in another flock of people and develop another thirty acres of land was definitely one of those big decisions he’d normally take to the council, which was why, Sam knew, Dean had been second guessing his unilateral decision to say yes to Deerling’s request.

Sam shook his head at his brother as he answered Dean’s worry again. “Dean, you acted out of generosity, the council will understand. I can vouch for the fact that those campers need a lot of help very quickly. Those kids were starving, you could see that.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I know, but I just brought the camp more strain on resources with no benefits.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, there’s the land.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, unfarmable land that’s separated from us by almost eighty miles. And Brisbane camp sits between us and Deerling, and they already think we’re trying to take them over. Joining with a group on the other side of them is gonna make them even more suspicious and possibly turn them unfriendly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have consulted the council.”

“Dean, there’s no way the council would have opted to just let a bunch of kids and sick people die. They’re definitely going to agree with your decision, and this way you’ve simply ensured that we can get food and medicine out to them by tomorrow instead of making them wait days for it. Trust me, you made the right decision.”

Dean grunted his response, still unsure. 

Sam slapped the back of his hand against Dean’s shoulder. “Now, I’m gonna go talk with the Doc about getting supplies together and coming out there with me tomorrow. Will you talk with Brandy later about food?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” A smile finally lit his face. “And then I’m goin’ home.”

Sam smiled and opened his door to climb out of the Impala. “Good plan. Give Y/N and the kids a kiss for me.”

Dean climbed out too and slammed his door behind him. He called Sam back as his brother began to walk away. 

“We should also figure out a time and day to have a sit down with the new leader from Brisbane, talk with her about our intentions regarding Deerling. She’s tough, but she seems more approachable and level-headed than their last leader. Maybe we can convince her we’re not looking to take anything over.” 

Sam nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Dean frowned. “What’s her name again?”

“Eileen Leahy.” 

Dean noticed his brother’s cheeks turn pink and he immediately turned back into an annoying big brother, his grin wide. 

“Right, right, you met with her alone last time. She’s cute, huh? Something we should know? Maybe you should invite her over to our place for dinner next week. We can have our little sit down conversation then. What do you think?”

Sam had already turned and started walking away. “You’re an idiot!” He called back over his shoulder. But Dean made a mental note to tell Y/N all about it later. 

With Y/N firmly in mind he started out across the camp. Their cabin was situated on top of a low hill in the Southwest section of the camp, not all that far from where their old red tent used to sit.

They’d built their cabin when they came back to Chitaqua eight years ago after helping to set up the research facility. The vaccine was still a year away, but they’d done all they could do and they were ecstatic that after two years of traveling back and forth from camp, gathering doctors, researchers and searching for other psychic kids, (they’d only found two others) and after Y/N had given gallons of her blood to science, they could finally come home for good. 

Not long after returning home, Y/N realized she was pregnant and Dean became obsessed with building them a beautiful home. It was around that time that the camps had all joined together and building homes for everyone became a priority of the camp. 

The builders grew in numbers as they took on apprentices and taught them the trade so that more people in the camp could join in the work. It took almost four years of constant building, but eventually all five hundred plus campers had permanent homes.

Gotta pull the tents out for the Deerling folks, Dean thought as he walked, his mind immediately occupied with figuring out the logistics of where the new campers could stay, and how they could join in the life of the camp, once they were all healthy.

He stopped by Food Storage and spoke with Brandy as Sam had requested. And just as his brother had suspected, when he explained the situation, Brandy was one council member who was very glad he’d made the decision he had. He felt more sure now that the others would feel the same.

As Dean wound his way through camp he got stopped quite a few times, people wanting to talk with him about one concern or another. He generally pointed them in the direction of the person or group in the camp that could help them. But he also got stopped by friends wanting to say hi and talk for a moment or two.

He was happy to talk, but anxious to get home to Y/N.

He looked out towards the large school building where Y/N still taught every day. The new building had been built on the site where the main cabin had been burned down. It was even bigger than the old cabin, with six rooms for the seven teachers that worked there now. 

Y/N was also the principal of the school for all intents and purposes; she and the other teachers taught over two hundred kids from ages five to sixteen. Theresa had finished school and immediately joined the staff as a teacher, working with Y/N every day and loving it. Brandy was so proud.

But Dean wasn’t surprised to see the building empty now, however; he knew it was a day off. He picked up his pace, weaving through the buildings that resided where the old tents had taken up space. 

They’d greatly expanded the food storage, and had an entirely different rations system now that fresh vegetables, fruit, fish and game made up the vast majority of their diet. Brandy was still in charge and was constantly innovating to make things easier and to stretch their food as far as they could in order to feed everyone. 

The former tent area also housed three large storage sheds, a small building that worked as an office/meeting space for whatever group needed to use it, and a small mill where they processed the wheat they grew - that process had included a steep learning curve, but they’d eventually made it work.

There was also a small, open area where a kind of market had popped up organically as the campers traded amongst themselves for things like homemade jewelry, homemade clothes, and other non-essentials.

He walked behind the buildings and began climbing the gently rising path that led to their cabin at the top of the hill. About halfway home he heard loud barking and looked up to see their seven year old Bernese-Husky cross, Clifford, bounding towards him, the way he usually did when any of the family came home. 

“Hey, boy.” Dean said softly, scratching him behind the ears. “Miss me?”

Clifford barked happily in answer and ran ahead and then back to where Dean stood, obviously urging him on towards home. Dean laughed and sped up, chasing after the big dog who sometimes still acted like a puppy.

As the path through the trees ended, opening up into their wide front yard, Dean sighed deeply. “Home sweet home.” He murmured. 

Even though he'd been away less than two days, he was still so happy to be home. He felt the peace that filled him up every time he stepped around the last bend in the path and caught sight of their home in the distance.

The way smoke curled lazily from the chimney and the scent of something delicious wafted through the half open Dutch door, never failed to make him ache to get his arms around his wife and bask in her light. Dean shook his head at his sentimental thoughts, but hurried his pace to get inside. 

As he drew closer however, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see his son walking East, coming out from behind the house. Dean figured he was heading over to his friend Freddie's, and he was about to continue on into the cabin, but then he noticed what his eight-year-old was holding in his hand.

“Gabriel Eric Winchester!” 

Dean's voice bellowed out, freezing the young boy where he stood. Dean strode towards him, anger clear on his face. To the boy's credit, even when he turned and saw his father's anger, he still walked forward slowly, until he was standing directly in front of him. 

The gun he held, however, was tucked just behind his back, as though he was hoping Dean hadn't noticed it. 

Dean held his hand out. “Give that to me this second.”

Gabe's face fell and he brought the gun forward reluctantly, dropping it onto Dean's palm. 

Dean immediately checked to make sure the small, .38 caliber, Smith and Wesson revolver was unloaded and when he saw it was, he held it in his fist, directly in front of Gabe's eyes.

“What the hell do you think you're doing with this?”

His son's eyes were wide and they got watery quickly. 

He shrugged. “I was just gonna bring it to Freddie's. Josh said he could teach us to shoot.” He said, referring to his friend’s older brother. “Just cans on a fence.” He was quick to reassure Dean.

“And did you ask your mother if you could remove a gun from the weapons chest?” Dean asked, already well aware of the answer. 

Gabe shook his head. “No.” He said quietly.

“How did you get it?” Dean asked brusquely.

Gabriel’s voice was still soft as he admitted what he’d done. “I grabbed it yesterday when mom took out a rifle to scare away some raccoons that were trying to get into the compost. Josh said he could teach us if we had guns. So when I saw it last night I just…” He trailed off as he looked up at Dean's face.

“So what you're telling me,” Dean said quietly, “is that while your mother's back was turned you STOLE a gun and planned to use it without asking either of us for permission.”

Gabe's tears spilled down his cheek at his father's disappointed tone and accurate words. He nodded and then sniffed. 

“I'm sorry.” He said thickly. 

Dean crouched down so he could look his son in the eye. “Gabe, a gun is not a toy. I thought you knew this. It's not something to mess around with or use on a whim. It is a weapon. It's incredibly dangerous. If you'd gone off and started shooting, even just at cans, you could have seriously hurt or killed yourself or your friends. Do you understand me?”

Gabe nodded but bit his lip. “But you carry a gun.” He said, pointing to the ever present gun strapped to Dean’s thigh. “And you started using guns when you were even younger than me. I heard you talking about it to mom before. And I…” He sniffled again. “I just wanted to be like you.”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Oh, buddy, I want you to be so much more than me. Your mom and I, we've worked really hard to make things better for you guys, to make the world safer so that when you grow up, hopefully you won’t have to walk around with a gun strapped to you at all times. It’s my job to protect the people in this camp. That’s why I carry a gun, and why I sometimes carry a rifle. But that’s not your job. Your job is to just be a little boy.”

Dean saw Gabriel pout a bit about being called a little boy. He smiled gently and squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Trust me, buddy, you should enjoy being a kid, don’t try to grow up too quickly.”

Gabe nodded begrudgingly and Dean pulled his son in for a hug. After a moment, he pulled back from him and stood up straight again, before nodding towards the cabin. “Go to your room now until supper, and when you come out, you’ll owe your mother an apology for going behind her back. Also, nothing but school and home for a week, do you understand?”

Gabe looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it when Dean gave him a stern look. “Yes, sir.” He said in acceptance and turned to run into the cabin.

“Gabriel!” Dean called. When his son turned back, the tear tracks on his grubby cheeks still visible, Dean spoke quietly but with conviction. “I love you and that’s why I know you can do better.”

Gabe’s face lost some of its forlorn look and he gave Dean a slightly awkward smile, lightly banging his fist against the side of his leg. “Love you too, Dad.” He said quickly before bolting for the house.

Dean shook his head and slipped the gun into his inside jacket pocket. He’d have to have a few more conversations with his son about gun safety and responsibility, but he was confident he could drill the dangers into him.

He walked up the stairs to the front door, more than ready to see Y/N and his girls. When he walked inside, however, he could hear voices coming from behind the kitchen door, and they didn’t sound very happy.

He pushed open the swinging door and saw Y/N and Emma inside. Y/N’s face lit up. “Dean!” She said happily as she saw him and crossed to the door to pull him down for a kiss. 

“Ew.” Emma said.

It was the standard reaction from all of their kids when they kissed in front of them. Emma had a hand over her eyes as Dean finished the kiss and looked over to where she stood by the sideboard that held all their plates, cups and glasses.

“You can look now, kiddo, we’re all finished.” Dean told her with a grin. “For the moment.”

Emma rolled her eyes and made Dean chuckle. Y/N frowned up at him. “Did I hear you yelling at Gabe?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, gotta talk to you about that, but you guys sounded angry when I came in. Anything wrong?”

Y/N looked at Emma and shrugged. “I’ve been telling Emma that she needs to invite her new friend for dinner.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled as he looked at Emma. “You don’t want to bring your friend over for dinner?”

Emma looked at Y/N with frustration, clearly annoyed that she’d told Dean anything. 

Dean tried again. “What’s going on kiddo, since when don’t you want us to meet your friends? Who is it, by the way? Didn’t realize any new kids had started at the school.”

Y/N shook her head. “Jeffrey’s not a new student, he’s just a new…friend.” She said meaningfully. 

Dean caught on and his face immediately dissolved into a scowl. “Oh.” He said without enthusiasm, crossing his arms over his chest.

“See?” Emma barked out, pointing at Dean, but talking to Y/N. “I told you this is how he’d be!!”

“What?” Dean asked defensively. “What are you talking about?”

Emma folded her arms, her posture and scowl mirroring Dean’s. “You get like this every time I bring a boy home, even when he’s absolutely just a friend. You scare the shit out of them!”

“Emma!” Y/N said, reprimanding her for her language..

But Dean just scoffed. “I don’t know what you mean. How do I scare them?”

Emma glared at him. “You interrogate them, Daddy, you know you do.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, if they’re too freaked out to answer a few simple questions then-”

“Simple questions?” Emma interrupted with a humorless laugh. “When I invited Timothy Sutherland over here you forced him to sit down and answer a thousand questions about his family, his background, where he grew up, what his plans were when we finished school. He ran out of here and never looked back.”

Dean threw his arms out. “Do you really wanna date a loser like that anyway? Who can’t even answer a couple questions?”

“Ugh!” Emma stomped her foot and stormed out the back door. 

Silence reigned for a moment when Emma left before Y/N turned towards Dean, giving him a tilted smile. “So, welcome home!” She said in a would-be cheerful voice.. 

Dean sighed as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They enjoyed the simple peace of each other’s embrace for a few minutes before Y/N spoke.

“What happened with Gabe?” She asked.

“He stole a gun and was gonna go shoot cans with Josh and Freddie Young.”

“What?” Y/N shouted, pulling back to look into Dean’s face.

He nodded. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I handled it. He’s in his room till supper and he’s grounded for a week. And I talked to him about how dangerous guns were. I have more conversations planned around the subject for the near future.”

Y/N shook her head before laying it back on Dean’s chest. “Good lord.”

After a couple minutes Y/N pulled away and poured them each a cup of coffee. They settled beside each other at the wooden table and instinctively linked fingers.

Dean took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I don’t really interrogate all her boyfriends, do I?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Well, she’s never actually had a real boyfriend. And I don’t think that's because boys don’t want to date her. She’s smart and kind, beautiful and well-liked. So…” She shrugged. “It seems probable that the boys who like her are just too intimidated by her father - you know, the legend who fought monsters, Croats, angels, and WON - the soldier that leads the camp, wears a gun, and asks scary questions, all while donning a very good mean-face.”

Dean exhaled loudly, but before he could respond, their youngest child came bouncing into the room. She was just six years old, and looked so much like Emma at that age that it sometimes caught Dean off guard. 

But she was definitely her own little bundle of energy. Having never known hunger or hardship, she was all bright smiles and busy excitement. It seemed as though she’d been born smiling and simply hadn't stopped. Very little bothered her, and she was absolutely spoiled by the entire family, including their found family members in the camp.

Everyone loved Hope.

“Daddy, you’re home!” Hope shouted as she jumped into his lap.

“Oof.” He grunted as she landed hard on some sensitive places. “Hey sweetheart!” He said, slightly out of breath. 

“I missed you. Mommy said you might not come home until tomorrow, but I said that you would come home quick because you like to be home and you don’t like to stay away. Right?”

He nodded, trying to keep up with her racing words. “Yeah, baby, I love to be home.” 

Before his sentence was ended Hope was on to her next thought. “I saw Emmie running out the back door and I tried to talk to her, but she looked mad. She was sitting on the tree swing in the back and I wanted a turn, so I told her to push me, but she just helped me on the swing and then she left to walk through the front yard and leave. And when I tried to follow her, she told me not to leave the yard and to go inside and see you cause you were back. So, I did.” She paused for breath before asking, “Why was Emmie mad?”

Y/N answered. “It’s nothing sweet pea. Why don’t you help me make supper? You can shuck the corn.”

Hope clapped her hands. “Yes, I want to pull all the strings off.” 

Y/N held her daughter’s hand as she hopped off of Dean’s lap, and then leaned forward to kiss Dean slowly. 

“Ew.” Hope said, shielding her eyes as her sister had. 

Y/N smiled against Dean’s lips and whispered to him. “Go talk to your daughter.”

Dean nodded and stood up, bending to kiss Hope’s shiny chestnut curls on the crown of her head. “Hey, promise me something short one.” He said, continuing when she looked up at him. “Promise you’ll take a really long time to grow up, okay?”

She smiled at him, cheeks round and rosy. “Okay, daddy.”

He winked at Y/N who smiled indulgently. “She promises.”

***

Dean instinctively knew where he’d find his oldest child. She coped with stress and frustration the same way he did, the way he’d taught her to. 

He walked through the door of the garage and sure enough, there was Emma, wearing old, blue coveralls that were too big for her, and bent over the hood of the little Chevy hatchback that sat next to the Impala. He knew she heard him come in, but she didn’t say anything, just kept working. 

Dean hopped up on Baby’s hood and waited for her to be ready to talk. Eventually, she caved and looked over at him, her face slightly shuttered and a little hard to read. “Hi.” She said simply.

He smiled at her. “Hey kiddo.” He nodded at the open hood she was under. “How are things looking? Still need a new oil pan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I replaced that last week. Risa found me one in the back of the storage shed.”

“Good.” Dean said. They were both quiet as Emma leaned back in and continued working. 

After a moment she cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m gonna need new brake pads though. Think we could go to Lowry’s and see what he’s got.” She asked, referring to a guy in Brisbane who collected car parts and often traded with them.

“Sure. I’ll be busy for the next day or so. But we can go after that. One day after school?” He asked.

Emma nodded and stood up, wiping her hands on the rag she had stuffed in her pocket. She was quiet as she slammed the hood closed and then stepped out of the coveralls and hung them up on the hook beside the door.

She wandered over to Baby and hoisted herself up beside Dean on the hood. After a moment she leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Dad. I’m glad you’re home.”

Dean lifted his arm so she could snuggle closer, and then wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, baby. Apparently I’ve been unconsciously scaring away the tons of boys who would otherwise be beating down our door. Though, if I’m being completely truthful, it probably wasn’t entirely unconscious. Cause I just know not a one of them is gonna be good enough for you.”

Emma chuckled. “I don’t think it’s tons of boys, Daddy. And I’m not interested in a bunch of boys. I’m interested in Jeffery. And I really do want you to meet him. I think if you give him a chance you’d like him. He’s really sweet and funny and just…” She sighed. “I just like him.”

Dean squeezed her again and felt his chest constrict with love and bittersweet memories, remembering how she used to crawl into his lap and let him read her to sleep. Those days were long gone, but she was still that little girl to him and she probably always would be. But he knew she was growing up and he needed to loosen his grip, at least a little.

So he sighed now and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. If you like him, I’m sure I’ll like him too. So, invite him over for dinner one evening and I swear to keep my questions to a minimum and be perfectly cordial.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t know if cordial is ever a word I’d use to describe you, Dad. Let’s just try to leave out the death stares.”

***

That evening after dinner, it was Gabe and Hope’s turn to do dishes. Gabriel washed and Hope dried with some assistance from Dean. As they were finishing up, Keisha and Julianne showed up on their doorstep asking if Emma was free to go for a walk around camp.

Y/N nodded when Emma looked to her for permission. “That’s fine. Be home before dark. Oh, here.” She said to the twins, grabbing a bag and passing it to them. “Take these home to your mom, it's the dress patterns she loaned me.”

Keisha went to take it, but Y/N pulled it back. “On second thought, nevermind. I’ll bring it to her tomorrow afternoon. Gives me a reason to visit and gossip.”

The girls all laughed and then waved as they headed out the door. Dean had to smile as they walked away, their high pitched voices and giggles floating back to them on a breeze. Some things hadn’t changed and he was grateful. 

Gabe went to his room to read, since he was housebound for the next while. Hope played with some well loved and worn out dolls for a little bit before they took her to her room and put her to bed. They tucked Gabe in not long after, and then took their coffee cups out onto their little front porch and sat in one of the big Adirondack chairs that Dean and Sam had built three years ago.

Y/N settled happily into Dean’s lap, her hands cupped around her warm mug. The late spring air was soft and warm, and the sounds of the camp drifted up the hill towards them. They listened contentedly for a little while as Clifford came out of the house and flopped down on Dean’s feet. 

They talked about the kids and they talked about the Deerling camp; they talked about Sam, and Y/N admonished Dean for teasing him about Eileen. 

“Be nice.” She scolded. “I hope he will bring her to dinner. If he likes her, I mean.”

They talked about anything and everything, and as the sun began to set, Emma came up the path and smiled as she saw her parents cuddled together in one chair. As much as she rolled her eyes and hid her face when they started getting kissy, she loved how much they loved each other. And she knew she’d never settle for anything less than what they had together. 

She told them goodnight and went inside, Clifford rising slowly to follow her and sleep at the end of her bed as he did every night.

Soon the fireflies were buzzing loudly and the camp was getting quiet, so Dean stood up with Y/N still in his arms, leaving their coffee cups to sit on the porch until morning. She laughed as her husband carried her effortlessly into their bedroom.

He set her on her feet and locked the door before he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him, crushing her lips beneath his own. Y/N moaned softly and immediately pulled off his flannel shirt and yanked his t-shirt over his head so she could spread her hands across the wide expanse of his still beautifully muscled torso. 

“God I missed you.” She breathed, even though it had only been one night. “I hate when you go away.”

He smiled against her skin as he stripped her down to her bra and panties. “Missed you too, sweetheart. Promise not to go anywhere ever again.”

Y/N laughed at his impossible promise as he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He continued kissing her as he crossed the room and lowered her to the bed. She wouldn’t let go of him and pulled him down on top of her. 

Dean chuckled at her hold on him and then mouthed his way down her body, licking and nipping at her skin. Ten years later she still had the ability to make him instantly hard and aching for her.

They spent most of the night making up for the one they’d been apart. In the darkest part of the night they found light and life in each other’s arms and fell asleep knowing tomorrow would dawn bright and busy - filled with responsibilities, joy, love and most of all…

…hope.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96