#she watched this young man she never actually met die in front of her as their mother mourned him

[illuxtre]

Just another note on shadowhunters rewatch, hugging it out with Sebastian/Johnathan Morgenstern without even having his dying words is mind boggling to me

[enam3l]

rockstar eddie munson fuckin hates tommy lee

read all rockstar eddie munson stories at lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie

Before Dave Grohl, Eddie Munson was known as the nicest guy in rock n roll. He approached his career the same way as Alice Cooper did, he was a fairly normal dude who just happens to be a metal god although unlike Alice, Eddie didn't wear a costume - he just looked like that always.

Do you know what Eddie thought was fuckin metal? Having a wife he loved more than anything, a supportive group of friends and things he enjoyed doing that weren't snorting lines off groupies tits like the industry expected him to.

He'd ran into Motley Crue a few times. Corroded Coffin were often seated near them at award shows and various events. The first time they crossed paths was at Corroded Coffin's first ever awards show, their debut album had been nominated. Tommy Lee had sauntered past you and Eddie, looking your fiancé up and down like he was dirt and then proceeding to hit on you with a sleazy comment. That night you both agreed 'Man, Tommy Lee fuckin sucks.'

By the mid-nighties, you, Eddie and rest of Corroded Coffin and their significant others avoided crossing paths with Motley Crue. Finding their behaviour tedious and their antics pretty gross. When you'd seen on a magazine that Tommy Lee had now swept Pamela Anderson off her feet, Eddie noticed your concern. You'd both met her before and thought she was sweet. You knew Eddie had a crush on her from Baywatch and through a mutual friend you'd managed to get her to sign a poster for Eddie. He was mortified but definitely didn't mind you wearing the swimsuit to make up for teasing him.

When the sex tape came out you were both horrified for her. Disgusted by the way she was treated and scared that the same could easily happen to you and Eddie. Whilst minding his business on a day out with your young daughter, Eddie was approached by a paparazzi asking if he'd watch Pamela and Tommy's tape. Eddie's reply was asking the photographer if he was ashamed of himself, swiftly followed by a punch in the jaw. Later that day as you bailed him out, Eddie apologised profusely for losing his cool but he was repulsed at how people were treating a woman for just being with her husband, repulsed at the idea that maybe they could speak about you like that and mostly, repulsed they'd mention it in front of your little girl. You didn't care he'd done it, you'd never been prouder.

Now once Tommy Lee had assaulted Pamela that was it, he was dead to Eddie. You'd also been expecting your second baby together when it happened. The thought that a man could even think about physically harming his wife (pregnant or not), never mind actually doing it and risking his baby's life, knocked Eddie sick. The next concert Corroded Coffin had, Eddie came on stage in a tee reading 'TOMMY LEE FUCKIN SUCKS.' A bouquet of flowers was sent to Pamela along with a gift for her new baby.

By the time Corroded Coffin's third studio album came out in 1999, Eddie had made no secret about his views on toxic behaviour in the rock scene, never afraid to use Tommy as reference. The new album's cover art was a black and white photograph of you, dressed like a pin up vampire stood over an open coffin. Now, no one ever confirmed anything but fans couldn't help but notice how the body in the coffin remarkably resembled one Mr Tommy Lee.

rockstar eddie munson is my ride or die! feel free to request anything (it doesn't have to be rockstar ed)

[bonefall]

how is bramblepaw’s characterization since it is shown that bramblestar is an actively bad person instead of “oh he’s a good guy uwu” while he is 100% fine with letting kits die for some land

Something I want to say with my rewrite, but I'm not sure how, is that power is an amplifying sort of force. Someone who's a pretty... normal sort of bad can do a LOT more harm without even meaning to, when power is added to the mix.

But I'm not sure how to show that, in the story itself.

Bramblepaw

Anyway, Bramblepaw is just a kid. He's a kid and Darkstripe sneaks him out to meet his dad, only to find out his dad's a horrible murderer. He sees violent death at a young age; Runningwind, then his older brother Swiftpaw.

Firestar takes him as an apprentice, only for Bramble to find out he did it because he's always been suspicious of him. That nice man he met, Leader of ShadowClan, the one who smiled and looked at you with such love, he's the reason why you don't see Mr. Runningwind anymore. That's why Cousin Cinderpelt's leg hurts in bad weather. That's why the whole Clan looks at you like that.

All the while, Tigerstar is demanding his children, since ThunderClan couldn't protect his oldest. Bramblepaw has only ever known fear and distrust from a very young age.

I imagine that the real turning point of his life was watching Tawnypaw leave. He had his cousins, he had his mom, but something about watching her vanish into the night... he felt so alone. He felt like he lost something that he will never get back.

Suffering doesn't make you a better person, it just hurts. Every horrible thing that Bramble does is in some desperate attempt to prevent people from leaving him, or to not "lose" something. Respect, Clanmates, Lovers...

Bramblestar

So, power. He never should have had it.

As a regular warrior the sort of damage he can do is limited. Think to the time in TNP when Squirrelflight broke up with him and he acted like a dick to her for several chapters. It was shitty, but AT MOST he could just embarrass her in front of her mom and yell at her a lot.

Tweak the writing a bit so that the Clan isn't completely oblivious to this being an abusive dynamic, and Squilf could have found a lot of support here.

But add power to the mix, and Bramble's mind games suddenly encompass the entire Clan. In Canon Squirrelflight's Hope, you can SEE the cycle of abuse taking place, the same way you see it in TNP. But this time, Squilf disobeying her husband also means disobeying the Clan Leader. Every political action she takes is also an action that affects her romantic life.

So it's not necessarily that Bramblestar is best described as, 'ok with letting the kits die for some land.' It's not about the land. It's about controlling Squirrelflight. It's about proving to himself that she won't make him lose face, that she won't make him lose control of his clan, and also, that no matter WHAT he does or decides, that he won't lose her as well.

EVERYTHING gets lost in pursuit of that goal. Everything. The personhood of the sisters, the kits, the well being of the Clan at large.

"Why are you doing this to me?!" He shouts, when Squirrelflight is trying to save the life of a dying cat by preventing him from intimidating a medic. He's only thinking about himself.

That's it. That's the motivation. He's not a Machiavellian psychopath who thinks baby-eating is cool. It's carelessness. It's selfishness. It's control.

Everything gets lost in the pursuit of what he wants. He's just a mediocre manchild who failed upwards, and an incompetent leader looks an awful lot like a malicious one.

Rewrite

He actually doesn't become deputy in Bonefall TNP. It's a sudden choice that Firestar makes after Brackenfur shows up dead, and shortly after that Bramblestar is thrust into power.

I think his best moment in my rewrite is right after he fights Hawkfrost to save Firestar, when he agrees that he needs to step down, and serves as a faithful warrior for a while.

That's the moment in his life when he does the most introspection, and is probably the healthiest and happiest version of Bramble that he will ever be. It's short-lived, as it all comes crashing down by the end of Po3... but for a few years, he was just Brambleclaw, Normal Guy.

Idk. I think about him a lot. They should invent cat therapy and study his fucked up little kitty brain.

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 4 (Alt #5)

#4- Alt #5- Doctor’s Note

Yes, Peter had worried that the start of a headache sitting just at the base of his skull along with the muscle ache could turn into something bigger, but all he had to do was make it to the end of second period and he’d be set. It was, after all, a fact that Ms. Warren had the strictest classroom policy about missing tests... and as crappy as Peter was feeling, none of his organs were hemorrhaging and he hadn’t lost any eyes, ears, or limbs recently.

And besides, physics waited for no one.

The exhaustion should have been another clue, not that Peter had the time to entertain it after sleeping through his alarm and having to make a run for the subway—which brought him what Peter was certain was the biggest mistake of his life.

On any other day, Peter would simply tuck himself away one corner of the car, content to people watch (also known as keeping an eye on things as best he could without technically breaking the totally unfair rules Aunt May and Mr. Stark had put in place ‘to keep him safe’), but today? The need to give his shaky legs a rest made parking himself in one of the few free seats in the car a necessity.

By the time the subway made its way to his stop, Peter was regretting every decision he’d made up to that point, what with the chills and hot flashes tormenting him. Peter knew that, regardless of what the plan had been, there was no way he could tough it out. He was so done-officially tapping out—ready to curl up in a corner and die a not so glorious death...

He just needed to speak with Ms. Warren.   

The subway arrived at Peter’s station in the nick of time. Never in his life had he craved the not-so-fresh fresh air of Queens as badly. The car door opened, and Peter allowed himself to get caught up in the swell of people moving toward and then up the stairs. Today, it was so much easier than fighting.

Finally, Peter was able to draw in a deep breath through his nose, trying his hardest to quell the nausea that was deciding to come into play. He swallowed hard and started moving. Peter just needed to make it less than a block to the school, catch Ms. Warren before she left the office and explain that he needed to go home. She would take one look at Peter, know he wasn’t faking it, and send him home with a promise to write his test another day because she was, at heart, a kind and benevolent human being. Right? He exhaled slowly. He had a plan. It was solid.

/-/-/

“But—!”

“Mr. Parker, if you think for one second that I believe you are actually sick, you are sorely mistaken. First and foremost, I saw you last night when you were leaving your decathlon practice and you were perfectly fine—and rather exuberant if I recall correctly.” Ms. Warren crooked an accusing brow at the flagging boy. “And second, I’ve heard you and your cohorts talking about all of your cosplay nonsense in the last weeks and know for a fact that you could easily have used make up to achieve this look.” She waggled her fingers in front of his face. “I’ve had enough of you young people taking advantage of teachers’ generosity. Nothing short of a doctor’s note is getting you out of today’s test, young man. Do you understand me?”

Peter nodded miserably. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she sniffed in disdain, “Now, I expect to hear that you were present in your first period class as well or I’ll be having a conversation with your guardian,” and with those words, Ms. Warren turned and left the main office.

Peter dropped into the chair behind him in defeat, closed his eyes, and grimaced as he tried to tamp down the newest urge to vomit... that wasn’t passing. “Oh, no.” The panic on his face was clear.

“Peter,” Mrs. Landon, the sweetest school secretary Peter had ever met, was suddenly standing up from behind her desk and pointing down the hallway, “Third door on the left. Go on, now.”

Peter didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. He knew that she knew. With a surge of desperation, he staggered down the hall, bumping into the door frame as he navigated his way into the tiny office bathroom. He barely had time to slam the door closed before he dropped in front of the toilet and heaved the meagre contents of his aching stomach.

A tentative knock at the door, “Peter, we’re just going to pretend that Ms. Warren didn’t happen. I’m going to call your guardian to have them come collect you, dear.”    

Peter would have loved to thank Mrs. Landon for her kindness, but his stomach spasmed in that moment and Peter’s focus shifted to praying for a swift and merciful death.

Mrs. Landon was waiting outside the bathroom door when Peter eventually left the bathroom, “Okay then, Peter, let’s get you lying down in the nurse’s office until your ride gets here.” She ushered him across the hallway to lie down on the paper covered cot the school used for poor idiots like Peter whose bodies had decided to revolt while on the public school system’s time. “They said they’d be here as quickly as they can,” she handed Peter a disposable emesis bowl and a small bottle of water as she spoke, “so just settle in.” She smiled sympathetically as she backed out of the room. “I’ll send them in when they get here.”

Peter nodded and croaked out an, “okay,” then wiggled as he tried to get comfortable. He already knew that May had a busy day at work today and there was no way her boss was gonna let her leave anytime soon.

All he could do now was close his eyes and wait for eventual rescue.

/-/-/

“Mr. Parker!”

Peter’s eyes snapped open at the shrill voice and he jackknifed up on the bed, “Wha-?!”

“I specifically told you that you were to make your way to first period, yet here we are!” Ms. Warren scolded him from the doorway.

Peter rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts, but all he could think to reply was, “I’m sick.”

“Well, you may have fooled Mrs. Landon, Mr. Parker, but you don’t have me fooled.” She scowled and took a step closer, “As such, not only will I be personally escorting you to class so you can take your physics test; I will also be requiring you to provide a formal written apology to your first period teacher.”

“But—” Peter was feeling way too awful to argue, but gosh, did he want to go home. “Ms. Warren. I swear I’m not faking.”

“You’re still sticking with your story, are you? You’re going to force your guardian to have to take time away from work, lose out on potential wages, pay for an unnecessary doctor visit, and then have to pay for a doctor’s note all because you chose not to prepare for this morning?”

Peter’s distress showed clearly on his face as Ms. Warren dug mercilessly at the insecurity Peter had forever tucked in the back of his head—being a burden in all the ways that mattered most. How could he respond to the woman when she was right about all but the actual illness?

A familiar voice called out from the hallway, “Whoa back there, lady. Would you care to explain why you’re talking to my kid that way?”

Even Mrs. Landon was horrified by what she’d overheard as she scolded her own co-worker, “Ms. Warren!”

Ms. Warren paled herself as her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, “Tony Stark?! What are you doing here?!”

Mrs. Landon popped her head out over Mr. Stark’s shoulder. “Forget about him! I told you that Peter was honestly ill and that his guardian was coming to collect him. You chose not to listen. What is wrong with you?”

“But—but—”

She must have been standing on her tiptoes, but still, Mrs. Landon was there, and she shook her head in disappointment, “You also know that every student is required to have two emergencies contacts, so an alternative to his guardian can’t be at all surprising. Besides the fact that Mr. Parker’s internship is common knowledge, Ms. Warren.”

The grin on Mr. Stark’s face told Peter that Mrs. Landon was about to get a really, REALLY big fruit basket delivery in gratitude. “Exactly!” He finally chimed in, “Now, as I’m relatively new to this whole guardian thing, tell me, Mrs. Landon. What do I have to do to spring the kid from this place before he decides to barf again?”

Peter dropped his face into his hands and groaned in embarrassment. “Mr. Stark.”

“What?” Mr. Stark turned around to address Mrs. Landon. “You said he barfed. Am I wrong?”

Mrs. Landon shook her head in amusement. “You’re not wrong,” Peter dropped back onto the cot and curled into the fetal position as he tried to hide, “but if you’ll come back to the front office, I’ll get you to sign Peter out and then you can both be on your way.”

“Fantastic!” Mr. Stark smiled his billion watt smile and gestured to Mrs. Landon to lead the way, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Neither of them had taken more than two steps when Ms. Warren decided she wasn’t done, “WAIT!” she cried out, “Peter is still going to need a doctor’s note if he plans on requesting a back up test.” She was determined to eke out some sort of victory.

Mr. Stark simply looked to Mrs. Landon, “Do you have a notepad and pen I could use, Mrs. Landon?”

Had Peter mentioned how awesome Mrs. Landon was? Well, apparently she was also a genius because she seemed to read Mr. Stark like a book if the look of glee on her face was anything to go by. “I do, Mr. Stark. Please follow me.”

“Incredible! However, I’d be most grateful if you could just put them on the counter... I may have a bit of a thing with people handing me stuff.”

“No problem, Mr. Stark.” Mrs. Landon replied and she led him back down the hall to her desk.

“Please, call me Tony,” he chuckled back. (Tony was always appreciative of an effective ally.)

“Hold on!” Ms. Warren seemed to realize something was going to happen and she wasn’t going to like it. She quickly followed them down the short hallway. “What’s going on?!”

Peter felt he had no choice to join the fray so, swinging his backpack over his shoulder (Mrs. Landon was THE best for bringing it in for him!), and clutching the emesis bowl to his chest, Peter stumbled to the front office as Mr. Stark was putting a final flourish on some sort of letter.

“There you go! Now, if that’s all, I’m pretty sure this kid needs to be in bed...” Mr. Stark gestured for Peter to come to him.

“Excuse me!” Ms. Warren saw what they’d done, and was losing her mind for it. “I said a doctor’s note! Not a boss’s note!”

Mr. Stark rolled his eyes, then called out, “Peter, exactly how many doctorates have I earned?”

Peter shuffled closer, “I think it’s three, right?”

Mr. Stark nodded in affirmation. “It is, in fact, three. Excellent work, Mr. Parker—which makes me a what, Mrs. Landon?”

Peter had never seen her so joyful, “That would be a doctor, Mr. Stark.”

Even Peter, in his misery, could enjoy the game being played.

“And so,” Mr. Stark tore the top sheet from the notepad and planted it firmly onto the counter, “This is for you.”

Ms. Warren could only stare at the piece of paper Mr. Stark had placed before her. There was nothing else to say. Ms. Warren had lost—epically.

“Now, really, c’mon, kid. You look like crap—honestly.” He put an arm around Peter’s shoulders as he took possession of the boy’s backpack and slung it over his own shoulder. “How anyone could have thought you were faking...”

“I’m sorry you had to come get me,” Ms. Warren’s words from earlier still stung a little and Peter had to let him know—

“Hush, kid. Let’s get you back to the penthouse where you can take a nap...” He looked back over Peter’s head to Ms. Warren as he finished the thought, “Doctor’s orders.”

[maldeldest]

WHAT IF HANS DIED IN THE FIGHT OF THE SNOW CASTLE IN FROZEN

Okay, I just watched a YouTube Video about none of the movie regarding the character of Hans makes any sense in the Disney Film "Frozen" so by some thinking I was like: Hmm but what if Hans actually died while the Fight in the Snow Castle".

Now this is somewhat dark for a Kids movie but taken in how many deaths we actually already saw in Disney movies mostly due to falling it seems logical that if they had the balls to follow this road they sure would make Hans fall down the stairs to Elsas ice palace. He fought Marshmallow and just like in the movie the Monster would get him down with him only that this time, Hans wouldnt be able to hold onto the saving edge and gets rescued. He falls down with him and dies.

That would be most likely, however a death I very much prefer, even though it would be way to violent for a kids Film is the Following:

Hans and the men made it into the castle and with one of my favorite lines "Dont be the Monster they fear you are" he stops Elsa from killing the two men of the duke. One of them holds their arrow at Elsa ready to shoot her, but luckily for the Queen Hans detects the danger and is able to guide to arrow to hit a chandelier instead of Elsa... only this time he jumps right in front of her. He saves her life but died in the process

Now what would his death mean and what would follow up ?

In both visions he would die as a hero. He died trying to save Anna and protecting Elsa.

Imagine Anna coming home, almost freezing to death, and asking to see her fiancee only to be told that he is dead. This would shatter Annas whole World, not only because she already lost her parents and now is told that another Person she loved is dead, but also she lost her one chance of being saved. Im sure one of the guards also told the story that Elsa is personally responsible for Hans death, so until the very end of the movie Anna would live with the thought her own sister murdered her fiance and she would slowly freeze to death.

As for Elsa she would be overwhelmed for sure. Leaving out the possibilty that she developed a crush on the prince, not acting on it because her sister wanted him too out of side, it happened indirectly because of her. Her biggest fear is hurting someone she loves and him being so important to Anna is enough for Elsa to rather die than hurt him and now hes not only hurt, he is dead. If he died to protect her Elsa would probably collapse from guilt and pain and the guards have every oppurtunity to kill her. But if we imagine if they had mercy with her and only lock her up, she would face her death with pleasure because she thinks she ripped an innocent young man from him life.

If his family would actually care for Hans it would start a war between the two kingdoms because they blame Arendelle that their youngest son/brother is dead. But as we learned they are all abusive assholes who couldnt care less so I guess nothing to be expected here

As for Kristoff, since he never met Hans it wouldnt have that much of an impact on him, but out of respect and knowing how much he meant to Anna he would wait to ask her out and be there for her and Elsa in the grieving process, same with Olaf.

All in all everything I just described would make so much more sense than that lazy ass Plottwist we got.

[amaryllisenvy]

The Ties That Bind

Part Three

Billy the Kid x OC WARNINGS: if you are comfortable with watching the tv show, you should be okay with this entire book. I will definitely try to put more graphic trigger warnings for any extreme scenes! Part three has mentions of blood, violence, and is a slow-burn once again with a bit more romance.

Part 3 November 9th, 1876

She couldn’t help but check the wound beneath the bandage that covered the young man’s face. He was asleep, which was what would be best for him. He needed to rest above all else right now.

Amaryllis inhaled sharply as she looked at the empty bloody socket where the boy’s left eye had been. 

“Doc said he had never seen anyone so lucky.” Billy’s voice softly filled the room with his whisper. 

“For once, I actually agree with him.” She stood abruptly.

Walking over to the dusty curtains, she ripped them open to let light into the dark room. She coughed as she inhaled whatever had been on those curtains that had built up for probably a century. 

She glanced at Billy who watched her from the other side of Carlos’ bed. She gently tilted Carlos’ head toward the window. When the brightly lit up the room and his face, she opened his right eye, before nodding satisfactorily. 

“What are you doin’?” 

The question Billy asked had no undertone of mistrust in it. He was genuinely just curious, not suspicious. The thought had her smile to herself.

“I was seeing if his other eye is still responsive,” Yllis took the supplies from the bedside table and began to change the soiled dressing she had just removed. “Which it is, if you were wondering.”

“How do you know all of this stuff?” Billy sat on the side of the bed and leaned toward her to take a better look at her cleaning around the wound.

“I just know everything.” She gifted him with a gloating and sarcastic grin.

She never imagined that she needed validation from some man who was a stranger not even half an hour before. But it felt good. It felt real when others recognized her skills. She could do without it, but she liked hearing the slight awe undertone that weaved into his curiosity. 

“When I was a girl, I helped mend men who came back from battle injured. I was barely eight when I watched a man in front of me die.” Memories flittered through her head at the tears she had cried in the supply tent almost every single day.

She had thrown up that night and helplessly directed her disappointment at herself. 

“I blamed myself, you know? But blame doesn’t make the pain any more bearable. It’s stupid now when I admit it, but every day after I read and reread every book I could get my hands on. Eventually, I was able to be confident enough to apply what I learned.”

Yllis didn’t look up until the silence had drug on through her scrubbing at the blood on her hands and her word vomit of a story. She knew he would be watching her and his thoughtful expression showed how he was enraptured in whatever he was thinking about. 

“How could you know?” he stared at his best friend with a growing fire in his eyes. “How did you know to move in front of him? Other than the man being a lunatic.”

Amaryllis looked at his eyes had been emptied of the youthful optimism they owned when they first met. She knew it all too well.

“Billy,” she moved around the bed to sit beside him. “This isn’t something you should blame yourself for. You aren’t the one who pulled the trigger and you could have never known someone would go this far over a game of rigged monte.”

“But you did know. You got in front of Carlos before he fired. How?”

He was the mirror image of her younger self and she knew very well how motivating guilt could be -- how it would eat at a person until they were able to turn the tables and turn it into a weapon. 

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” her words sparked ire in his eyes until she interrupted his exasperation. “But, knowing yourself well enough to know your weaknesses and become better is how we grow as humans. Whatever lesson you can take from the things that happen to you can be put to better use by improving yourself. It’s a much better alternative to rotting in guilt and nonconstructive hindsight.

“And I’m not much of a hero. I didn’t think he would have gone as far as to shoot a kid and it was purely luck that saved your friend. It’s astounding how the slightest bit of added force would have resulted in a bigger loss than just his eye.”

His eyes were illuminated by the early morning light that shone through the window. It was full daytime now just outside the Doc’s walls, but she could tell Billy was much farther away. It was only when he met her gaze that she realized that his held the smallest bits of green. 

“To finally answer your actual question,” her voice was softer than it had been moments before. “I saw it in his eyes. I don’t think there is much anyone can hide from you when you look into their eyes.”

As if testing her theory for himself, he said nothing. He only shared her gaze and he seemed to release some of the tension he had been holding for years.

“I should have been faster.” He dropped his eyes to his friend again.

“Then become faster. What you think is a failure is in the past and you do not have to live there anymore, Billy. You can only try to be better.” She stood.

When ocean eyes met her brown ones, there was a new resolve in them. Hope bloomed in her chest for him as she watched confidence change his defeated expression. 

“Now, instead of wondering how I manage to be so brilliant, come and learn how to do it yourself; show me that you’re not just a pretty face.” Her teasing had an effect that she never could have imagined. 

As he walked over to take the bandages from her hands, he gave her the widest grin that held nothing back. 

For the first time, he looked like he had enough control to put his thoughts at ease. “Lady Luck, teach me everything you have stowed away in that pretty mind of yours.”

She rolled her eyes at the name, and then she shared what she knew with him. Feeding his curious mind and teaching him to take care of his friend’s injury gave him something to direct his energy toward.

Amaryllis prided herself in her mind and her wit, which made the fact that she was oblivious entirely to the way his hands had lingered-- prolonging their contact as he grabbed the bandages-- all that more out of her character. Even stranger, she didn’t notice how he hardly tore his gaze away from her as they worked. 

If she had, she would have scolded him for not paying attention.

This was short, but the next part is already posted :)

[izufeels]

⁝ IZUKU MIDORIYA !

description: the brother of the little you babysit makes a surprise visit home

content warning: kind of flirting; kind of angst; quirkless au; eri and izuku are siblings; 1.5K words

“—the prince jumps off the dragon, whisks the princess off her feet, and plants a big, fat smooch on her cheek. Then he carries her back onto the dragon, and they fly away into the sunset!”

Eri blinks at you a couple times before frowning. “That doesn’t make sense, Y/n-ie. My teacher told us that- that the sun is uh, too hot for people to go on. If they flew into the sunset, they would die.”

It’s your turn to blink at her a few times. Eventually, you laugh and nod. “I guess you’re right, huh? How’d you get to be such a smart little girl?” You ask, tucking the blanket around her once again.

“I’ve always been this smart!” She exclaims, giggling as you tickle her sides. She’s such an ornery little girl; you love it.

“That’s true,” you hum. “How about this; you go to sleep and, tomorrow night, when I tell you another story, it’ll be completely true, okay? No flying into the sun or anything. Does that sound good?”

She thinks about it for a moment, face scrunched up cutely, before nodding once. “Okay,” she says. She wriggles until her arms are above the blanket then holds them out to you. “Goodnight hug.”

You smile and give her a large hug, not letting go until she starts giggling again. “Goodnight, Eri. Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite, and don’t tell your mom I let you have ice cream for dinner— again.”

She nods, saluting you just like you taught her. You turn off the light on your way out, but leave her door open a crack so that the light from the hallway seeps in. You know she can’t stand the dark.

The apartment is quiet now. The hallway you walk down is empty— save for the stray barbie or two that you pick as you make your way to the living room. The walls are filled with pictures. You stop at the picture you often stop at; the one where Eri is holding a melting ice cream cone, Inko standing beside her wearing a crooked smile and… Izuku stands on the other side of Eri, wearing the same crooked smile and green hair as Inko.

You’ve never met him before, but Inko talks about him so much you feel like you have. You know he’s the same age as you and that Inko had him very young— fifteen or sixteen. You know he’s off finishing his junior year of college, double majoring in journalism and english. You know from the various pictures on the wall that he loves his little sister. And you know from accidentally walking into his room one time, that he has a weird obsession with a hero named All Might— a character from a popular show when you were a kid.

He seems like a good guy. You would probably even be friends if you ever met him. But, everytime he goes on break, Inko insists you take some time off.

Because Izuku is a good brother and he actually likes spending time with his siblings.

If you’re being honest, maybe it’s a good thing you’ve never met him. You would probably fall in love with him on the spot.

Eventually, you move on from the picture, choosing to watch reruns of some cheesy show you don’t know the name of.

“But, Bradley!” The woman on the screen cries out, reaching a hand towards the too-buff man standing with his back to her. “I love you, can’t you see? My sister doesn’t deserve your love! She doesn’t even know who you truly are.”

He looks over his shoulder, an almost pained look on his face. “Sweet, Maria.” He shakes his head. “Neither do you. For, if you did, you would know it’s your brother I want, not your sister.”

An honest-to-god gasp slips out of your mouth. It’s crazy how fast you became absolutely engrossed in this plot. “Her brother?” You mumble quietly, brows pinched together in the middle. You lean forward, elbows on your knees.

And, maybe if you were more aware of your surroundings, you would have heard the doorknob of the front door jiggling. And, maybe if you didn’t become so fascinated with Bradley and Maria, you would have heard the door opening. And, maybe if you weren’t a total fucking baby, you wouldn’t have screamed out loud when you heard a voice behind you say, “um, hello?”

You stand up and whip around faster than the speed of light— a phrase you would usually never use, because it makes no sense. Your mouth is still agape when your eyes land on a tall, green-haired boy staring back at you with wide eyes.

Both of you are frozen for a moment. You stare at him, scanning his face. You take note of the freckles that cover his nose, the scar above his left eyebrow, the way his hair falls messily against his forehead. It’s honestly quite impressive how much you can see in just the light of the TV.

“Um,” he says finally, licking his lips nervously. He swallows hard and looks towards Eri’s room. You realize that this looks bad— really bad. “I’m gonna have to… call the cops now.” He reaches for his phone.

“No!” You cry out, taking a step forward. He takes a step back and you cringe. “I mean— ugh! You're Izuku, right? Your mom hired me; I’m Eri’s babysitter.”

Just like his sisters earlier motions, he blinks at you many, many times. His hand relaxes at his side and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Oh,” he breathes out. He fixes a nervous smile on his face and sighs. “Sorry for um, threatening to call the cops.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I thought you were robbing my mom.”

“Oh my god, no.” You shake your head, giving him a small chuckle. It sounds a little too nervous for your liking. He’s not going to call the cops anymore, so why are you nervous? “I love Inko, I would absolutely never.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. He sets his bag down on the ground and walks to the kitchen. You suddenly feel like you shouldn’t be here anymore. “So,” you start, shoving your phone in your pocket. “I’ll just um… Get out of your way, then.” You start to walk to the door, but then stop and turn around. “Can you tell Inko that Eri has homework? Oh, and that the laundry is done, folded, and in her room? Thank you.”

His eyes widen slightly as you speak and he takes a step forward. “You don’t have to go,” he says, voice quiet. You’re not sure if it’s not to wake Eri or something else. “I was about to make some Pizza Rolls. Stay. Tell me about how my mom ended up hiring you.”

And, maybe if you had any strength at all, you wouldn’t have smiled at him and sat back down on the couch.

“So,” he claps his hands together quietly. He’s sitting next to you, now. Not too close, but you can almost feel his body heat. “My mom hired you to babysit Eri. I thought Eri was going to an after school program?”

You nod. “She was. Up until like, six or seven months ago, maybe? I was one of the employees there, but I quit because— well, that doesn’t matter. But, when I quit, Eri refused to go to the program anymore. So Inko tracked me down and offered me a babysitting job.” There’s a fond smile on your face now. “And, obviously, I said yes because Eri is one of the coolest, smartest, funniest kids I’ve ever met.”

Izuku laughs at that. Probably because he knows it’s true. He leans back on the couch and sighs. “You’re right,” he says, confirming your suspicions. “When we talk on the phone, she says things that make me think she’s smarter than me. The other day we had a twenty minute conversation about dinosaurs. And she knew more than me.”

“Dinosaurs? Really?” You laugh, shaking your head. “This week she’s all about the planets. Just earlier, I was telling a bedtime story, and she told me that the dragon couldn’t fly off into the sun because it would die. Morbid, but true.”

He yawns, then so do you. You share a look, then break into a fit of giggles. You were right earlier. You probably could fall in love with this guy on the spot.

He’s the kind of guy you see in an airport and never forget. He’s the kind of guy that could give a tell hour lecture, and you’d never get tired of his face. He’s nice, smart, funny, probably athletic from the way his thighs are straining against his sweatpants— God, would you look at those thighs?

The microwave beeps and the Pizza Rolls are done. You and Izuku stop laughing and he gets up to put them on a plate.

And, maybe if you were a better person, you wouldn’t have stood up after him. And, maybe if you were a better person, you wouldn’t have quietly opened the door, picked up your shoes, and quietly closed the door. And, maybe if you were a better person, you wouldn’t have sighed in relief when the door didn’t open again.

Time to take the week off.

tags ; @rueclfer

[nyotaliafan-pinkmermaid]

Two hearts united as one (Part 4)

Fandom : Hetalia

Characters/pairings : Aurelian x fem!Probus (HWS Roman Emperors , even though in this story are just named after them). Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, North Italy , South Italy , Seborga, Genoa , nyo!Cyprus and nyo!Greece make guest appearances (Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece aren't married though nor they are related to eachother and the antagonist is actually an unnamed human OC).

Genres : Romance , Emotional, Modern AU

Rating: K+

Warnings : mentions of abuse(even though I won't make it too edgy) , nudity (nothing is explicit and nothing sexual happens between the main couple), parental loss , plus the bathing scene may make some people burst into tears so it will be better to have some tissues with you.

Word count: 6708

(Note : in case you don't like it , don't make any hateful or bashing comments or even message me, expressing hate. Instead feel free to get out).

It had been already two months since the young couple met and fell in love with eachother. Their relationship was genuinely a healthy one.

While other women in her age wanted to be the wives of wealthy men, she didn't care about riches and luxury. The man she fell for, didn't have lots of money but he knew how to treat her like an actual human being and give her the love she deserved and without asking for a reward.

At the same time , the rich man arrived at the mansion and when he found out that the young lady was nowhere to be seen, he got extremely furious and went to search for her by himself.

Meanwhile the young couple was outside and enjoyed the scenery around them with a smile on their faces.

But when the rich man saw Aurelian and Probus being so loving and tender with eachother, he felt disgusted and angry at the same time. He wanted to do something to separate them.

He grabbed Probus' hand violently and threatened her by saying this :

"So this is what you did during these two months that I was away. Lazying around. But I'll fix it. I demand that you will marry me and give birth to my sons. And if you give birth to daughters I will kill you. And you should always do whatever I'll tell you"

When he saw his girlfriend being humiliated in front of him, Aurelian knew that he couldn't sit and watch without doing nothing. He got angry and said to the much older man:

"Leave Probus alone, you creep. I won't let you have her and use her for your evil purposes, thus making her life even more miserable".

Then Probus looked her former boss directly in the eyes and told him with a brave tone on her voice:

"I will never be the wife of such an evil and cruel monster like you. Now I have Aurelian by my side who treats me with kindness and like an actual human being. He truly loves me. "

Now the evil rich man had no other feelings inside him besides severe anger.

"How dare you to ignore me you brat? Tommorow morning, I will beat your beloved one in a duel. And if you dare to intervene , there will be some very serious consequences".

For a very brief moment the man looked Aurelian on the eyes and said:

"Let's fight. One versus one. And no matter how you will respond , there won't be other winner besides me. And of course the woman here will be my prize".

The young boy responded to the man with such bravery and courage :

"Don't even call me a coward. I will fight you, not because I want to win this lovely lady as a prize. I won't let your crazy plans to be fulfilled"

Those words left Probus speechless at that moment. She had a strange feeling inside her that combined both happiness and sadness at the same time.

She was thankful that the man she loved fought for their love, but she was also afraid that he would might die. And the second was something that she didn't want to happen.

The couple went home so they would prepare for the duel the next morning.

All these made Probus wanting to talk to Aurelian. She couldn't keep it to herself.

"I am so glad that you are willing to protect me. But i'm scared for you too. You know what will happen if he wins, I'll be the wife of someone who will treat me with cruelty".

"There's no need to worry. I may be a common soldier but no matter how strong the enemy is , there's no excuse for backing down".

These words filled the lady's heart with courage and when it got dark they went to sleep. Tomorrow a long day awaited for them.

The day for the duel that would decide Probus' fate, finally came.

Would she be by Aurelian's side , while enjoying her freedom or would she marry her abusive boss and lose everything she has?

She looked at a box that she never opened, despite of taking it with her when she ecaped her golden cage. She soon noticed that there was a message on it.

Without wasting time she took the paper and started reading it:

[To our dear daughter. This is a gift, especially for you. But remember, you can only open it when something serious happens. Stay strong, we love you.

Your parents]

By the time she opened the box, her heart was beating faster than before. Until she saw what was actually inside there.

Inside the box was a long rosewater pink dress that looked like those worn from princesses. The same dress was sleeveless and bordered with a blue fringe at the edge of the bodice, and includes two separate cuffs worn similarly to bracelets, albeit with military shoulder tassels. It would also be accompanied with a golden spiked tiara like accessory and a pair of sandals.

She wore the dress and surprisingly it fitted her perfectly plus it made her feel like a princess and a warrior at the same time. Her father taught her how to fight and defend herself and she still remembered these lessons by heart.

By the time she arrived in the area of the duel , she saw her former master looking at her with such a lustful and creepy look on his eyes.

"Oh hello there my future wife and mother of my sons. Are you ready to see me beat that trashy soldier? Oh wait, he run away because he is too scared to fight me. And unlike him , I have both looks and money"

Those words filled Probus with such disgust and anger:

"You think that you can win only because you are rich and good looking. And two more things, first I will never be yours and second stop insulting the love of my life. He knows how to fight and he doesn't see me as a trophy".

Few minutes later a male voice was heard:

"If you are looking for me, I'm right here".

The moment Probus saw Aurelian coming she ran towards him with such an happy yet agonizing expression on her face.

"Finally you made it. I don't want anything bad to happen to you.Good luck facing your opponent".

"I am here for you. I promise to protect you with everything i have. The only thing you have to do now, is to be strong not for me but for yourself".

She went and stood outside the arena and without saying any word the two men started the battle.

The wealthy man ran toward Aurelian's direction and as he defended himself against him as he fought that man back.

It was obvious that the two men fought for different purposes. And their goals were exactly opposite to eachother. The evil wealthy man saw the young woman as a trophy to be won.

Aurelian didn't care about winning any prize. He fought because he loved Probus with all of his heart and he believed in his duty as a soldier.

He wouldn't allow himself to lose from a narcissist and megalomaniac person.

The duel continued for a long time and it seemed that none of the rivals seemed to give up, no matter how difficult it would be.

Suddenly the older man's expression became scary and he told with an obssesive tone on his voice:

"There's no other winner besides me. This woman there is my possession".

Upon hearing those insulting words the young man couldn't tolerate it and said to his opponent :

"You said possession? You treat a woman like a trophy , while ignoring how she truly feels? Tell me".

Those were the young boy's words towards his opponent and "clang" sound was heard as he put his sword to his rivals.

The older male tried to make the younger one lose his sword and fall to the ground. And the next step was to get rid of him.

Seeing this in front of her eyes, Probus couldn't stand there without doing anything. She wanted to defend Aurelian , the same way he defended her. And without second thought she jumped between the two opponents.

Noticing this, the former wealthy master started yelling at the young lady.

"What are you doing here brat? You dare to intervene? Did you forgot what I told you before"?

"I am not afraid of any consequences. I only want to help my beloved against you. I won't allow you to kill him".

This small but brave speech gave the boy more encouragement and he continued fighting.

The girl nodded at him and she went outside the arena again.

It seemed that the duel was about to end. The young man used his skills against his opponent, while observing every single of his moves carefully.

Finally the battle ended and Aurelian was the winner. And of course he didn't need to use any trick to win, but only what he was taught during his training back when he was learning how to be a soldier.

At the same time , Probus ran towards Aurelian who had his arms opened, calling her for a hug. She immediately went near him, put her arms around his waist and hugged him, while he was hugging her back. He was wounded , but he didn't mind it at all.

"I knew it that the victory would be yours. Thank you so much".

"You are welcome. You always believe in me, so i will do the same for you".

The best thing was that he allowed to use that dress of hers as a military uniform and fight by his side not as a superior nor as an inferior, but as an equal. Like she really deserved.

The lady's former evil boss looked at the couple and couldn't believe that he lost.

The lady came towards him and said the following:

"All this time you tried to make me look weak and helpless, by torturing me without mercy. But I'm still here and now I realise that the truly weak one here is you. From now on, you will live in the world you created for yourself only in your mind. You are nothing more than just a shadow of my past, which I shall forget . Goodbye forever".

After telling this ,the woman didn't look back and took her beloved's hand , while both returned to their home to rest and prepare for the trial that would give her former torturing master a taste of his own medicine and thousand times bitter.

They both smiled at eachother knowing that love will always win in the end.

To be continued...

[chronically-ghosted]

gonna send my ask here this time!! I’m sorry for not getting to it sooner! I’ve been feeling weirdly sad (thanks Depression lol) so I wasn’t on tumblr much!

Buuut! I loved Natalies chapter! Just finding out her story and her thoughts and feelings in everything. Absolutely broke my heart but so good!

It sounds horrible but it feels like she was just doomed from the start.. just absolutely failed by every person in her life. The way you wrote those gross men absolutely made my skin crawl and it’s so devastating to know how real it also is! Growing up in that industry and being a girl must’ve been so hard and it just makes me wanna big Natalie so bad.

Her having a crush on Dieter when she was a teenager kinda had me all 🥺🥺 it’s like so innocent? Idk like her entire life has been such chaos and so many hard times and everything. The thought of her sitting in front of that TV just to see Dieter? Ugh my heart.

I’m so sad that she had to do the emancipation but I’m also so glad she did so she was at least able to get away from her parents/mom! But man. I’m just gutted to think about 16 year old Natalie like that 🥺

It also makes me think about how recent this all still was when she met Dieter! 6 years really isn’t that long..

and aww, Natalie being so nervous about starting a friendship with Marie!!! She’s actually so precious haha! I just wanna hug her aw.

Seeing the beginning of her and Dieters relationship again, through her eyes this time.. hurts even more! She really just wants to be liked, especially by him and I wanna lowkey kick him in the shin for being such an asshole lmao

You think you could die like this but you don’t. You never actually do.

God damn. I swear this chapter just keep breaking my heart! It’s so so well written but just so freaking sad!

It does just perfectly show how young Natalie still is. So desperate to be liked by everyone that she’ll do absolutely everything. And the sad thing is, most people like her just for the drugs she can get them, they don’t even know or care about her at all. Her thinking she doesn’t know how to make someone like her without sex or drugs and then the whole thing with Dieter starting with sex and drugs.. that’s gonna mess with her head!

also thank god for Marie, I love her. I’m so glad she was there when she woke up in the hospital again. I’m so glad Natalie wasn’t alone.

I’m sorry this ask is such a mess, so much happened that I don’t even know where to start or to end. It’s just all so sad. They both love each other but just never got it right with the drugs and the messy situation. Maybe not even knowing how to love someone properly so they just give away every little thing they have until there’s nothing left anymore and they crumble. Too fucked up to be a safety net for the other. It’s kinda sweet but also so sad because it shows they didn’t have much love in their lives so far and that’s heartbreaking.

I’m honestly not ready for this to end lmao like I love these two so much? I know they’re not real but I want to read everything about them. How they work on themselves and find their way back to each other and how they start dating and go on normal dates because Natalie never got to go to a movie with her boyfriend or go ice skating. and how excited they are to move in together and they get a puppy and they always go an walks together, they always make time for that. And Dieter proposes to her and they have a beautiful backyard wedding and they slow dance while everyone toasts with alcohol free champagne. And they’re just happy together, everyday and all the time because they finally can. And they get rocking chairs for the patio because Dieter is old already (according to Natalie!) and they spent so much time there, talking and laughing while watching their dogs (dieter can’t say no to Natalie when she comes home with another one..) play. And they cook together and they play dumb board games and they’re just the most domestic people ever.

Aaaah! I just want to read every little thing they do. I’m literally gonna start sobbing at the next and last chapter because my heart won’t be able to take it lmao.

Again, I’m so sorry this ask is such a mess. I’ve honestly been feeling so sad about life and my entire existence and I’m putting all of this into these 2 and that makes me super corny about them apparently lol!

I could honestly see this story as an entire book. You’re such a brilliant and amazing writer and it’s been such a pleasure being able to read this and also talk to you about everything! And while I’m so sad to know it’s gonna end soon, I’m so excited for whatever you have planned next! (Tho I hope we sometimes get to visit Dieter and Natalie (Dietalie? Nater? lmao) for some cuteness and see how they’re doing? 🥺)

OK IM SORRY! I love you and you’re amazing and im already so excited for the next one and aaaah!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

i think this might be my most favorite message i've ever gotten. no joke. it was written with such care and passion for the little blorbos who live in my brain. both natalie and dieter mean so much to me and the mere idea that you think about their lives together is just overwhelming 🥹🥹🥹

nonnie, you have made this whole experience so so so incredible. this was my first multichapter fic for the pedro boys and i was so nervous about how it was going to be received! you have been so diligent and so thoughtful and SO insightful about their motivations and dreams and desires -- it feels like you're in my brain!

i've been writing fic for a few years now and its this kind of engagement, this kind interaction, this kind of community that i SIMPLY ADORE.

i really really hope you like the ending i've got planned and i am more than happy to take requests about their life post the end of the fic! 💕 i LOVE the idea of them getting dogs and they ALL SLEEP in the same bed -- dieter gets her a puppy first after their first year of dating and then it just grows from there. aldksjf;lkjads i want to go on but i don't want to spoil the ending, but please be aware they are a dog family for sure! 😂

i would never ever want to make you feel uncomfortable but i would love to meet you some day. @ravensmadreads can attest: some of my best friends come from readers of my fics! you have been an absolute delight and i want to thank you from the bottom of my heart!

as a treat, here's the chapter header for the last chapter! so much love!

[bludhavents]

things that each greaser struggles with:

these are mostly headcanons i came up with. also, this gets pretty angsty.

content warning: alcoholism, addiction, anxiety.

darry:

- maturity. he thinks everybody looks at him like the “dad” of the group instead of just another friend, and he loathes it. he misses whenever he was able to skip work to catch a movie at the drive-in or take ponyboy and sodapop up to the dingo for lunch.

- accidental intimidation. his build is very large and strong, which is good for his job and for when he’s actually trying to, well, intimidate people, but other than that it just makes him feel guilty for being so unapproachable.

- relationships. specifically, darry is very insecure in his relationship with pony. he especially hates it whenever pony dogs on him for forgetting things or accusing him of not caring.

- emotional intelligence. he knows he comes across as cold. and he hates it. he has lots of emotions and he doesn’t air them out in a healthy way, so he tries his best to cut all the emotions off altogether in hopes that the negativity will stop, but it just makes him feel even more insecure.

- social skills. in high school, it was all much easier for him, but now that he’s working full-time and running the household, he’s fallen majorly behind in the social scene. he never goes out to the drive-in or to the dingo, and at first it was because he was too busy, but now, even if he doesn’t have a shift, he’ll make up some excuse because he’s too nervous to go and have to talk to people again since he feels like he’s gonna mess up.

- identity. darry was just starting to feel comfortable in himself and in his role in the world right before his parents died, and when they did, he stopped trying to figure out what made him happy. it has made him insecure of the emotional stint that is centered around his ego and sense of self.

sodapop:

- smarts. it’s canon that he’s insecure about this.

- growing up. while everybody else moves on to new things and grows up, he feels like he’s stuck in the same place watching everybody else progress while he stays behind. this was especially true after sandy left, because marrying her was going to be this huge exciting step in his life and when she left, he didn’t have that fulfillment anymore.

- reassurance. he feels a constant need for approval, and he will take it wherever he can get it. there’s a sort of pride he gets whenever he sees a girl checking him out, but there’s a deeper feeling telling him that she’s gonna run away once she finds out about how ‘stupid’ he is.

- authority. soda has a really hard time talking to people who are in a position of power. he gets all nervous and his hands get sweaty and his face goes sheet white in panic. his charm and social skill is enough to satisfy a conversation with a person his age, but he feels silly trying to be confident in front of an adult. he feels like they look down on him and will laugh.

- fatherhood. he’s very insecure about having a family in the future. he feels like he never appreciated his dad’s skilled parenting while he could, and since then darry has been a sort of fatherly figure in the house, but it’s hard for soda to see it that way. he grew up for 16 years with darry as a big brother and for him to suddenly be forced into a father role is troubling for soda. because of this complicated dynamic between soda and fatherhood, he feels like he won’t be able to be the best father possible for his children.

- legs. he hates his legs. you will never see soda in a pair of shorts, not even when he’s swimming. he doesn’t like the way they’re shaped and thinks that they make the rest of his body look odd, so he wears loose jeans to hide them. he’s also embarrassed of being embarrassed about them, so nobody knows, not even steve.

dallas:

- emotional intelligence. his lack of emotional intelligence is something he battles with a lot. he understands what people are feeling, but he has a hard time understanding why they feel that way. he says it’s because he’s too tuff to deal with emotions, but deep down he knows it’s because he was thrust into a traumatic childhood so early on that he never had time to build emotional bonds with people that would strengthen his empathy and understanding.

- his past, another canon take. he hates talking about it, even the good stuff, because when he thinks about new york all he can picture is 10 year old dallas watching a man being covered in a white sheet by the paramedics on the side of the road. he thinks about his friends from there and knows they’re all either locked up or dead, and it ruins any enjoyment he gets from reminiscing on the good times.

- health. he definitely has crohn’s or IBS or something else that makes his stomach hurt whenever he eats, and it embarrasses him to no end. he’s always anxious that his stomach is going to start hurting when he’s with the gang and is going to have to find some excuse to leave. he smokes so much while he’s out with them to keep from getting hungry until he gets back to buck’s place.

- his friendships. the shepherd gang is close-knit. then, the curtis’ are brothers, steve has known them forever, and two-bit is outgoing enough to make himself fit in to the group. johnny is the closest person dallas relates to, and it’s the friendship hes the most secure in.

- his smile. he knows smoking ruins his teeth, and he knows they’re crooked all over, and he knows that when he smiles his lips crack and stretch out.

johnny:

- his appearance, canon insecurity. he looks young for his age, and when the gang found him in the lot after he was beaten by Socs, they all started treating him like he was young too. he didn’t think the scar on his face was tuff, it just reminded him of being attacked.

- his voice. this is less about how it sounds and more about him not being able to speak over the shouting at home. he hates yelling, and he won’t stand in to speak up for him cause he’s too afraid of being told to “stop yelling”.

- being average. johnny feels painfully average in everything he does. he’s tried to find a skill that he truly loves and wants to take time to be good at, but he always gets frustrated and quits before he can improve.

- romance. almost every aspect of it terrifies johnny. he doesn’t know what a healthy marriage looks like, what he does know was from Mr and Mrs Curtis, but seeing them die together warped his sense of love. he doesn’t understand why you would want to love somebody so much if you didn’t have to. he doesn’t like the “til death do us part” aspect of marriage, because it makes him feel trapped. he’s not afraid of commitment, he’s afraid that he will end up in a marriage like his parents’ and not be able to leave.

two-bit:

- alcoholism. he’s an alcoholic and he knows it, but he’s been stuck in the vicious cycle of addiction for such a long time that the only way he knows how to cope with the emotional baggage of addiction is to drink more.

- social awareness. as of now, he’s very self-aware and extremely skilled in reading a room, but he didn’t used to be. he used to crack jokes at the wrong time and get scolded for it, and it made him feel horrible. like he wasn’t able to experience all the same sad feelings as everybody else because they reacted differently to the sadness than he did. they wanted to process the sadness while he wanted to ignore it.

- being absent at home. he knows he spends the majority of time at the curtis house, and he also knows that his mother spends the majority of her time at work, which leaves his little sister at home alone. he has a good relationship with her, but he doesn’t like for her to see him drunk, and as his alcoholism progresses, that gets to be more and more often. he knows this, and it’s one of the main reasons he’s so insecure about his addiction, because she’s the one who let him know that it wasn’t a one-way street. his problem affected him and her.

- commitment. two-bit is young, but he feels old enough to know how relationships work. he saw his dad walk out on them, and he was never able to process how you could go from marrying someone to leaving and never looking back. at first, he thought that his dad was just a selfish jerk, but when he met johnny and saw that his parents were also married and simultaneously abusive, he convinced himself that all marriages were bound to end up that way. he believes that if the curtis’ lived longer, they would have eventually gotten bitter and tired of each other, because in his mind, that’s just what couples do.

ponyboy:

- confidence. he has a lot of insecurities, and they’re shared pretty evenly between physical and non physical. he doesn’t like his body or his eyes. he doesn’t like how impulsive and dramatic he is.

- security. not in himself, but in life. he’s permanently on edge, feeling anxious about who’s going to be around the corner and what would happen if he got jumped and how many Socs he’d be able to fight off in case anything happened. his parents’ sudden deaths did not help this. he feels like life is constantly tossing him around, and he never feels completely safe.

- emotional outbursts. this isn’t exclusive to ponyboy, but he struggles with it the most. he hates getting upset with people, and he hates hurting other people’s feelings. when he’s feeling too many things, he starts to speak without a filter and gets mad at the littlest things, and he knows that it makes everybody around him feel bad.

- fitting in. in contrast to johnny’s insecurity, ponyboy wants nothing more than to fit in. he’s tired of being the only greaser in his classes, he’s tired of his isolated taste in movies and theatre, he’s tired of being a track star, and he’s tired of all the pressure put on him since he isn’t average.

steve

- masculinity. his dad always enforces an unrealistic standard of being strong, independent, and logical. steve is inherently all of these things, but the pressure he feels to keep it up weighs him down.

- comparing himself to others. it started in middle school when he noticed all of the people liked sodapop more. from then on he couldn’t help but feel like soda was more attractive and charming, darry was stronger and smarter, two-bit was funnier and cooler, dallas was tougher and unbothered, johnny was more likeable and down-to-earth, and ponyboy was more creative and well spoken.

- addiction. there was a time in steve’s life where he was getting high every day. at first it was fun, but then he had to quit track because he wasn’t as athletic as he used to be. it ruined his health and motivation. he started working on cars more to keep himself busy, and it helped a lot, even got him a job.

- hyperindependence. steve’s biggest character flaw is that he can’t ask for help. whether it’s asking for help in school or asking for soda to hand him a tool in the garage, steve can’t bring himself to do ask. it makes him feel like he’s not good enough to do it on his own.

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

[amxranthiine]

imagine being the ex-friend of the slytherin crew. [she/her] (no voldy bc ew)

had this thought at 3am last night while fangirling with my friend last night. sorry for any errors <3

angst, mentions of parents disowning child, blood prejudice, mention of childhood/forbidden crush

- [ ] you had known draco, blaise, theo, pansy, astoria and daphne since you were very young.

- [ ] since you all were two to be exact. your parents were close and your birthdays weren't too far apart, so it was only natural that you all became a crew growing up, anxiously waiting for your eleventh birthdays.

- [ ] you all were inseparable. you learned to fly together, talk together, walk together... hell, you had all learned you were wizards together.

- [ ] you were always closer to blaise than the rest of the crew. you were younger than him, though not by much, and he seemed protective over you. as inseparable the rest of you were, blaise couldn't go anywhere without you, and the same goes for you to him.

- [ ] how ecstatic you were when you all got your hogwarts letters! you were going to be in the same year and hopefully, probably, the same house!

- [ ] it was expected of you all to be in slytherin, all coming from very long lines of prestigious pureblood serpents.

- [ ] the other six were more than confident that they would all be in slytherin together. you? not so much.

- [ ] you were very nervous, to say the least. you didn't portray the slytherin traits as much as the others.

- [ ] and when pansy or blaise would try to reassure you that it would be fine, you couldn't help but wonder if they were trying to convince you or themselves.

- [ ] and because you didn't portray the serpent traits, that made them all extremely protective of you. blaise especially, draco and theo coming close in second, and the girls just wanted to make sure you were okay.

- [ ] but the moment the sorting hat yelled out a name that wasn't slytherin, everything stopped.

- [ ] your friendships with your lifelong friends, your crush on blaise (okay, that didn't go away), everything you grew up with just... disappeared.

- [ ] your now ex-friends wanted nothing to do with you, even your parents didn't want to speak to you. your housemates were cruel, jesting about how you were a stain on their house, and a snake deep down.

- [ ] it was safe to say you had no one.

- [ ] the crew started being mean to you somewhere around christmas of first year. before then, they had just ignored you. just like everyone else.

- [ ] after christmas though... they seemed to have a new hatred for you.

- [ ] especially blaise, which hurt the most. you swore you were seeing things when you thought you saw sadness somewhere in his eyes whenever he was rude to you.

- [ ] you were alone for the remainder of first year, and for the first two months of second.

- [ ] that's when you met luna, neville and ginny. you guys were thick as thieves, and for the first time for two years, you were actually happy.

- [ ] of course, your childhood friends were still mean to you, nothing had really changed on that part. but you were... happier, and that hurt them. because you happier without them, and that wasn't how it was supposed to be.

- [ ] they supposed they should be glad that you were doing better. last year, they were going mad out of worry for you. apparently you had stayed at hogwarts for christmas out of request from your parents, and it was christmas day when the adults told the rest of them to stop associating with you.

- [ ] it remained fairly passive over the next few years, you remained close with luna, neville and ginny, and had even befriended the golden trio and the twins!

- [ ] the serpent squad didn't like that too much, but they supposed your current friends were better than no friends, and as long as you were happy, they were happy

- [ ] but they still continue their kind-of bullying. they weren't as cruel to you as they were to others, but words still hurt and boy do they have a snake's tongue on them.

- [ ] blaise could hardly stand being away from you but his mother had made him swear that he would not associate with you, the blood traitor.

- [ ] all he wanted to do was hold you, but he rather bullied you instead.

- [ ] it was the beginning of sixth year when draco and pansy had gone too far. the other four were just watching blankly, trying not to let their discomfort show as the two reprimanded you, mocked you, and insulted you in the middle of the great hall. calling you a blood traitor, a stain of your family name and house name, and even going as far as saying "no wonder your parents don't want you, just look at you!" while the all the slytherins around them laughed. or at least, pretended to.

- [ ] you had looked at them for a long time, teary eyed and red faced, just trying to understand what you did to deserve this. until you nodded your head, said "okay," and walked out of the great hall.

- [ ] they heard your friends call your name, your closest ones even running after you.

- [ ] theo and blaise looked like they were about to beat draco to death, astoria and daphne were just disappointed in pansy, they knew how much she missed you, and yet she ruined any chance of you forgiving them.

- [ ] blaise eventually decided against killing the blonde and ran after you, the rest following suit after a moment.

- [ ] it didn't take them long to find you, sobbing against a wall with your head in your hands, ginny, nev and luna all crowded around you. rubbing your back and whispering reassurances in your ear.

- [ ] "i don't know what i did to deserve that," you cried, sniffling as you wiped your nose on your sleeve and looked and ginny.

- [ ] "oh love, you didn't do anything," the ginger said, wrapping her arms around you.

- [ ] "don't listen to them, y/n! they're just prats!" assured nev, leaning against the wall awkwardly, with one hand on your back.

- [ ] luna played with your hair, "yeah, y/n, they don't deserve your love and kindness."

- [ ] "thank you guys. i mean it. without you three i don't know where i would be." you laughed, but no part of it was humorous.

- [ ] draco, being the blonde he was, decided it was a good time to intervene, "hopefully alive, haha."

- [ ] the six of them had come out from around the corner, feeling ashamed and wanting to hit themselves for making you cry.

- [ ] "what do you lot wanf? haven't you done enough?" asked ginny, placing herself in front of you.

- [ ] "yes but.."

- [ ] "no, you don't get to talk. now piss off before you do even more damage."

- [ ] "we just want to apologize," said blaise.

- [ ] you scoffed, "a bit late for that."

- [ ] pansy looked down, "we're really sorry, y/n, for what just happened and for everything the past six years. you know how our families are and they told us to stop talking to you... so we did."

- [ ] all feelings of sadness were gone now, pansy's words has ignited a flame within you, one you've been holding in for years.

- [ ] "stop talking to me? so that gave you permission to be bloody awful to me? merlin's beard, you six were worse than umbridge on her bad days! you could have just... i don't know, explained what happened in first year? and apologized for abandoning me? and maybe we could still be friends! but no, you lot ruined any chance of that ever happening again. so thank you for that." you paused to take a breath. your audience was wide eyed and shocked, not quite believing you had such anger in you... but oh man, you weren't done yet.

- [ ] "and let me just say, blaise, your insults hurt the most. merlin, i thought the world of you. i thought you were my everything. but that all just went away the moment you thought not associating with me, meant making my life a living hell."

- [ ] you were, once again, crying. you took a deep breath and sadness took over you once again, you mumbled an "excuse me" and took off down the corrider.

- [ ] the serpent squad was stunned. they hadn't realised what they did effected you that much. blaise was upset with himself, disappointed, even. he felt the same about you, even if you both were too young for it to be love, and now he knew he never get it pack.

- [ ] theo cleared his throat and tried looking anywhere but at the trio in front of them, who were looking at the six with anger and disappointment.

- [ ] "you guys couldn't even begin to understand what she's been through," neville said after moments of awkward silence. "not long after the sorting ceremory, her parents sent her a letter, practically disowning her. before that, you guys abandoned her. she was alone for nearly a year and a half before we met her. and by merlin she was a wreck."

- [ ] ginny and luna chuckled, not out of humor, but out of irony. this situation was similar to the situation you were in when you met them.

- [ ] neville ignored them, and the curious stares the six were giving him, and continued, this time fueled by anger.

- [ ] "we were the ones who picked up the pieces. we were the ones who made sure she didn't die after losing everything she had ever known. we were the ones who made her smile again, happy again. we picked up the pieces because you weren't there, and you were exactly what had caused it in the first place." neville spit out the last sentence as if it were venom, hoping to hurt them as much as they hurt you.

- [ ] they were all on the verge of tears, daphne and astoria were holding each other and looked to be in the most pain, because they missed you the most.

- [ ] "i hope you lot are happy with yourselves, you're about five years to late to the pity party."

[rebeccccccaaa]

TEᑎᔕIOᑎ

_____________________________

ᗩGEᗪ ᑌᑭ!ᑭETEᖇ ᑭᗩᖇKEᖇ ᙭ ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ

ᔕᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: You and Peter have always been very flirty and touchy with each other. You chalked it up to just how he is, not that you minded. But what happens when Peter gets hit with Hydra’s infamous sex pollen and all he seems to be doing is moaning your name. 

ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎGᔕ: smut of course lol 18+ (virgin kink?, first time!reader, experienced!Peter, etc, unprotected sex cuz i forgot to write that lol be safe though, and a digusting amount of fluff) 

ᗩ/ᑎ: (non/dub con as per usual with sex pollen fics) although i tried to make as consensual as possible 

ᗯOᖇᗪ ᑕOᑌᑎT: 4.0k (i’m so sorry this is so long lmao)

_________________________________________

“We’re back!” Tony shouted, his voice echoing in the building. They had gone on a mission to infiltrate yet another Hydra base.

Peter was currently sitting and watching television and you were watching from the kitchen making two drinks for you and Peter. You both looked to the team walking in before scurrying beside Bruce and Tony who walked straight into the lab. 

“What did you get this time?” you asked excitedly. Sometimes the team brings back really cool things back from missions and in particular the Hydra missions have the coolest things. Unusually, Thor too walked in the lab before you all circled around the table and Tony placed a plant. 

He backs away as did Bruce and Thor so after looking at Peter with wide eyes you both also stepped back. 

“What is it?” Peter whispered.

“A plant,” Thor said.

“Not shit, Goldilocks. What does it do? You told us to take home, now what?” Tony said.

“Well, Man of Iron, it’s a sex pollen plant.”

“A what?” you gasped.

“Most planets use this as a sort of breeding plant; some species don’t really have the… stamina that Midgardians and Asgardians have.”

As Thor explained this, Tony and Bruce huddle away from the plant moving towards the computer to write down notes and data about what Thor was telling them. You followed pursuit also being intrigued by it. 

Unfortunately Peter did not follow and instead moved closer to the plant to take a closer look. The flower was beautiful. The petals were a soft shade of periwinkle and the pollen was yellow almost like gold. The same shade of golden yellow dust swirled around the flower itself. It was hypnotizing. He really wanted to smell it.

Suddenly as Peter got closer just to give it a quick sniff, he could smell an almost overbearing amount of your scent. That delicious scent of vanilla and lavender that you smelled so nicely of. That scent that made Peter want to run his hands through your hair and his nose along your neck. 

“One thing you should never do is inhale its pollen, if one does it could heighten their desires into madness.”

Peter looked up with wide eyes knowing he just did something he probably shouldn't have done. 

“What desires exactly?” Bruce asked.

“Well, sex.”

Peter started coughing.

“Pete are you ok?” you asked walking up to him.

He looked you in your eyes and his own dilated insanely. You backed away slightly concerned for your friend only for him to take a step closer to you. The lab coated with silence analyzing his behavior since it was so unlike him. Tony got up from sitting on a stool and Thor puffed his chest anticipating his next move; he was certain the boy breathed in the plant’s pollen. 

“It smelled just like you,” he whispered close to your face; his hands reaching under your shirt slightly.

The minute he put his hands on you, all three men ran you and Peter. Bruce pulled you behind him while Tony and Thor grabbed Peter dragging him away from you. You felt hot after what Peter had just done; in front of people too. He thrashed in Thor’s and Tony’s grasp, groaning and shouting from them to let him go. 

You felt tears brimming your eyes. You did not like Peter like this. He was crying and begging to be with you, which you’ll admit surprised you. 

“What’s happening to him?” you asked from behind Banner.

“The boy seems to have inhaled the pollen as I said not to do.”

“Yeah I get that! Why is he crying? Is he hurt?” you asked.

“Not exactly, the pollen will affect his mind and simulate pain as if he were to die, but his body will be perfectly fine.”

“What?” you all said at the same time.

“How do we fix it?” Tony asked.

“Y/n, baby. Please,” Peter practically moaned making everyone kind of uncomfortable.

“Well, the only way I’m aware of is, well, sex. And it seems like Peter desires the young lady,” you eyes widened and you shifted under everyone’s stares. 

“No, no way,” Tony said; you were like a daughter to Tony and therefore boys were something he wasn’t too keen on the idea of you having. He still thinks you’re too young even though you’re already a consenting adult. 

“Tony, the boy-”

“No, I’m not letting Y/n do that. We’ll find a different cure. Take him to his room and don’t let him out.”

“Tony, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked Tony.

“Yes I’m sure, Banner. There’s no way in hell I’m putting her in that situation. It’s not fair. Now come on, more time talking, less time finding a cure.”

“Technically there’s already a cure,” Thor muttered. 

“Go!” Tony pushed him out. 

“Is he gonna be ok?” you softly asked, hearing his cries and screams for you as Thor took him to is room.

“He’s gonna be alright, bug,” Tony said, hugging you. 

Steve and Nat both walked in the lab after changing out  of their clothes concerned with all the screaming they had been hearing.

“What happened?” Nat asked.

“Thor had us bring this plant home for analysis and turns out this shit makes anyone who smells the pollen horny as hell.”

“Really? Come on Tony, we heard the kid crying and screaming. What’s really going on?” Steve didn’t believe him at first.

“He wants to… have sex,” Bruce said shyly.

“Wait really?” Nat asked.

“With who?” Steve hesitantly asked curiously.

Tony and Bruce simply look at you, which you curled into yourself feeling embarrassed. 

“Oh no, honey are you ok? Did he do anything?” Nat asked, holding your hand.

“I’m fine, I’m just worried about him.”

“Don’t. We’ll fix this I promise,” Tony said getting to work.

Well now it’s been 8 hours and Peter is still crying and moaning your name. You had been in Nat's room with her, Steve, and Bucky. Sam and Thor had been outside ‘patrolling’ Peter’s room making sure he was as ok as he can be, though it’s been proven that he seems to be in excruciating pain. 

Tony and Bruce had been in the lab the entire day, you’d think they made wonderful progress and found a cure by now but no. All they’ve found was normal samples of Peter’s… everything. He was physically perfectly fine. 

You were very quiet as they played video games and watched movies. You couldn’t help but feel burdened because you knew you could fix all of this. All you needed to do was go to Peter’s room and let him have his way with you. It’s not like you wouldn’t mind. You and Peter have always had this sort of tension and extra friendly behavior between you guys ever since you met. 

To say you hadn’t developed feelings for him would be a huge lie. 

“Are you ok?” Nat asked you.

“No, not really.”

“I know you want to help him but it’s for the better. Let Tony and Bruce find a cure.”

“Actually that won’t be happening anytime soon,” Thor said, walking with Sam. 

“What happened?” Steve asked.

“They haven’t found anything and although Peter will be physically fine, mentally he could be extremely traumatized by the time they find something, if anything. The pollen mimics physical pain until sexual ‘needs’ are fulfilled by the person they desire most,” Thor looked to you at the end. 

“I want to help him,” you said.

“Y/n, that’s not fair to you,” Steve said.

“And it’s not fair to Peter if I don’t help! He didn’t mean to smell the flower. I can't just sit here waiting for nothing to happen when I can go in there and help him!” you argued, “If I don’t, he’ll not only hate you for keeping me away from him but me too for not trying.”

“Don’t be silly, he’d never hate you,” Nat said.

“He will if I’m the reason he’s going to be traumatized for the rest of his life.”

“Come with me,” Nat said, holding your hand.

“Nat,” Steve warned.

“Steve, you and I both know this has to happen. They’re adults,” Nat shot back. 

You followed Nat out of the room. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this? Your first time should be special-”

“First time?” your eyes widen.

“Y/n, I know you're a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you mumbled.

“Really? When was your first?” she poked.

“It was- was in, it was high school,” you stuttered.

“With who?”

“... Tommy?” you said after a long moment of silence, trying to come up with a name.

“Tommy?” Nat smirked.

“Yeah, he was in my history class,” you lied.

“Ok we’ll work on that,” she said.

“On what?”

“Lying.”

“Hey, virginity is merely a social construct made by men who think their tiny dicks have the ability to change a woman’s life. It’s gonna be like a five second pump; I’ll be in and out,” Nat laughed at that.

“Ok, fine. Follow me.”

You followed her to Peter’s room where his moans and groans got louder with each step you got closer. Truthfully you were a bit nervous about the situation. Sure you did imagine your first to be extra special in a dim lit room with flowers and with someone you love. Well, now it looks like it’s going to be a dark room with your best friend who’s in the room driven by magic sex pollen, but at least you love him. 

You got to the door and Peter instantly knew you were on the other side. His senses overwhelmed him with your scent, your racing heart beat. You exchanged a few words with Nat before she hugged you and left you to go into his room alone. 

You slipped inside and immediately met with Peter crawling on the floor to you in nothing but a pair of boxers; a large prominent tent formed where his dick was. 

“Y/n, you’re here,” he rubbed your legs and kissed your thighs softly still on the floor at your feet. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m here to help you,” you said shakily.

“Oh god, you smell so good,” his hand reached up behind your thighs towards your ass and you panicked. 

“Peter wait,” you pulled his hand away. 

“What, baby? What’s wrong?” he too panicked.

“Nothing, I just… I’m kinda scared.”

“Of what? Of me?” he stood up and backed away from you.

“No! Not of you. I’ve never… done this, you know?”

“Y/n, why are doing this then- ugh!” he groaned, a wave of need and sexual frustration rushed over him making his body cramp. 

“I want to help you,” you grabbed his hand; he pulled his hand back very quickly and retracted his body over to the bed. 

“Peter, please let me help you,” you walked over to him.

“No, Y/n. I can’t do that to you.”

You were getting tired of his arguing. You wanted to do this. You rushed to him and took your shirt off hoping that’ll prove a point or something. 

“Look, look. I want to help you, Pete. Let me do that,” you cupped his face making him look at you. 

His eyes were so dilated nearly black as he looked into your eyes. His hands caressed your bare stomach and lower back making goosebumps rise across your body. He leaned forward running his nose along your neck breathing you in. He used every ounce of control he had in his body to not flip you on the bed rail you into the mattress. He had to be gentle. The idea of you never have been touched shouldn't have turned him on as much as it does. 

Your stomach fluttered and you let out a shaky breath. Arousal pooled in your underwear with each move that Peter made. Your hands rested on his shoulders unsure of what to do but thankfully Peter moved your hands in his hair and you gently ran your fingers through his curly brown locks as he kissed and nibbled at your neck. 

He moved your bra strap down your shoulder tracing his lips along your collarbone to your shoulder.

“I'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered against your skin.

“It’s ok Pete, I want to help you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you feel good.” 

He practically growled picking you up and laying you on his bed. He kissed your stomach and left small bites and purple marks littered across your belly. He looked at you to make sure you were ok before pulling your shorts down your legs and off to the side. He continued to kiss up and down your legs growing harder at the small pants and gasps you made above him. 

“I'm gonna give you a little taste, ok darling?” he whispered against your inner thighs.

You nodded and lifted your hips off the bed for Peter to easily take your underwear off. You grew embarrassed at how wet you were. Peter only chuckled before going in a licking along your entrance. You gasped and clenched your thighs together, only to wrap around Peter’s head pulling him closer to you.

This isn’t Peter’s first time eating a girl out so he was obviously quite skilled in bringing you a lot of pleasure from his tongue alone. Now in his twenties, after high school and after his identity was revealed, Peter somewhat tumbled his way into playboy town just like his mentor. 

Girls left and right shot their chance to spend a night in the spider boy’s bed. But when Peter met you, oh boy, the kid fell in love. You were this innocent little thing that Peter just wanted to hold and take care of all the time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He stopped seeing other women in hopes that one day you’d be out of your mind enough to give him a shot. 

Now here you were, laying in his bed like an angel, letting him have his way with you because he was shithead and smelled the flower when he wasn’t supposed to. 

Your hips squirmed around, pressure building up in the pit of your stomach. You moaned loudly as you got closer to your oragsm. Your hands went to Peter’s hair making him hum when you tugged on his hair. His vibrations pushed over the edge and you came for the first time that night on Peter’s face.

“God that was hot, baby. Are you ok?” he asked, crawling up your body after discarding his boxers.

“Yeah, that was amazing,” you cupped his face, smiling.

He leaned down and kissed you for the first time ever. His hands roamed your almost naked body except for your bra of which you still had on. Not for long of course. Peter leaned back to sit up pulling you with him so you were now sitting straddling his lap. 

You could feel his dick against you and your body shuddered in arousal. His hands wrapped around you to skillfully remove your bra, the last piece of clothing left on you. When he did so you covered yourself in instinct never having been naked in front of anyone before in your life. 

“Don’t cover up princess. You’re so beautiful. I wanna see you,” he whispered, cupping his hand under your chin so you could look at him.

“Sorry, it’s- It’s a lot,” you whispered back. 

“I know and I’ll try to go slow but if I’m not inside you right now I think I’m gonna pass out,” he moaned. 

You looked down in between your bodies to find Peter’s dick big, swollen, and red. You felt bad because you don’t know if it’ll fit inside you and it looks painful. 

“Please, Yn,” Peter had tears in eyes begging for you to take the pain away.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

Peter grabbed his cock and lined up to your entrance. You got up and slowly sank down feeling him stretching you out. With how aroused and wet you were after Peter’s mouth you were able to slide all the way down without feeling too much pain.

Peter moaned when he bottomed out and grabbed your face you kiss passionately. You moved slowly up and down and soon all the pain you felt subsided into pleasure and you too started moaning above him. 

“You look so fucking good riding me, princess.”

His words made you moan even more embarrassed that everyone can probably hear you and Peter having sex. You bit your lip in hopes to silence the moans as much as possible, but Peter didn’t like that.

“Don’t. I want everyone in this building to know who fucking you this good,” he flipped you over onto you back and started thrusting wildly. 

“Let them know what a good little girl you are for daddy. Let them know who’s name you’re gonna be screaming all night.”

“Peter oh god,” you moaned.

“Huh? You like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Yes!”

“My good girl. My little slut,” Peter groaned in your ear.

You were getting insanely close to your climax and Peter’s words only sped up the approach. 

“Daddy, I think I’m close,” you whispered, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said.

Your oragsm ripped through you and you practically screamed into his ear. Pleasure came over you in a huge wave. Your eyes screwed shut and your legs wrapped around Peter’s torso pulling him impossibly close. Your body felt limp under Peter’s and when you opened your eyes Peter's face held worrisome and frustration. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I haven’t came,” his voice trembled.

“It’s ok. We can keep going,” you said tiredly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he buried his face in your neck.

“You won’t hurt me, Peter. I promise.”

He kissed softly before gently flipping you over and thrusted into furiously.

Six hours later Peter finally came after you did so nine times; and that was before you stopped counting. Your body shook and Peter cleaned you up. He had a small fridge where he kept drinks from time to time and grabbed a water bottle for you to drink. 

You breathed heavily after drinking a copious amount of water before laying back down. You turned to check the clock on his bedside and saw that it was around three thirty in the morning. Peter crawled into bed with you, both still naked not caring enough to change. He held you impossibly close, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” he mumbled in your skin. 

“I mean it was a lot,” you chuckled.

“I swear if it weren’t for that stupid fucking pollen our first time would have been softer and special,” he said, making you look at him with surprise. 

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, well, look. Y/n, I really like you and I know that timing is horrible but it’s true. I promise.”

“Well, I like you too,” you smiled at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Wow. God, you’re amazing. Thank you for today,” he whispered, cuddling you close.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” 

You both fell  asleep soundly in each other's arms until you both woke up the next day from loud yet muffled voices downstairs. The sun was shining very bright, lighting the whole room up brightly. You stirred around and peeked over Peter’s sleeping body to find that it was around noon already and you two were still in bed. 

Peter moved a bit slowly waking up. You turned around to face and watched his beautiful face slowly come to life. His eyes met your eyes and you both smiled before bursting into giggles; hiding your face in his chest. 

“We’ll have to get up soon, you know,” he said, making you sigh dramatically.

“Let’s run away, before they make fun of us. They had to have heard, right?” you said, slightly panicked.

Peter just laughed and shook his head. He reached to kiss you, moving your hair off your neck eyes widening. 

“Oh man,” he said, thumb rubbing the dark spots he left on you.

“What?” You pushed the sheets off your body feeling intensely sore. You heard Peter gasped as you trotted to a mirror.

Your body was covered in bruises and hickeys that Peter left for literally everyone to see. When you looked in the mirror you yelled Peter’s name completely shocked at the state of your body. 

“I can’t believe you!”

“Well, in my opinion I think you looking fucking sexy,” he said coming up behind you.

“I like them,” you said shyly, “But everyone’s gonna see them, no?”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen next time.”

“Next time?”

“Hell yeah. Only if you want of course,” he chuckled, “Let’s take a shower before we grab some food.”

That was filled with giggles and little touches. Kisses were exchanged practically every minute. You both came out of the shower and Peter so generously lent you a pair of clean boxers and one of his shirts fitting way too big on you. He wore these delicious looking grey sweatpants and a tight fitted black shirt. You practically drooled over him.

“No, later,” he winked.

He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before heading down stairs preparing for what could be an upcoming disaster. You came down stairs meeting everyone appearing to be arguing probably over what you did. Everyone noticed you two and immediately stopped conversing. 

Tony sat on a stool, arms crossed and an unamused look staring at you both while everyone else looked down or at each other, anywhere at but you guys.

“Before you say anything, everything that happened is my fault,” Peter pulled you behind him. 

Tony simply looked at you and made you feel shy and ashamed somewhat under his gaze. He told you to stay away and you didn’t listen.

“Don’t even look at her. She has nothing to do with this,” he said when Tony shifted his gaze.

“Relax, kid. Look we all talked. Thor told me about the effects the pollen can have mentally and the trauma it can impact when ‘untreated’ for too long. We weren’t going to find a cure anytime soon and I don’t even want to think about the consequences you’d have to pay because I'm a stubborn old man who didn’t like seeing the kids not be kids anymore. You both are adults and I had no right to interfere with that. Besides everyone knows you two are in love.”

“We’re not in love,” Peter mumbled.

“Love is such a strong word,” you mumbled simultaneously. 

“Don’t argue with me,” Tony said. 

“Sorry,” you both whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted.

“We also agreed that starting today we will be installing soundproofing in both of your rooms and Y/n, maybe put some ice on…” he pointed to your neck but then waved around your whole body because you were pretty beaten up. 

“Thanks, guys,” Peter said holding your hand again.

“Congrats on getting the girl finally,” Steve said.

Before you two left you saw Nat wink at you and you smiled running away with Peter most likely to go cuddle and maybe fuck another round if your body feels better. As much as you hate to admit, thank god Peter smelled that fucking plant. 

[fandom-imagines]

Escape Artists

Fandom: Halloween/Slashers

Pairing: Michael Myers X Reader

Warnings: Murder, mention of parental abuse, lightly-written smut (not too descriptive).

Words: 2.4k

He had seen her around the hospital numerous times. She was always sat surrounded by those weird beads that she made designs with, only to have to hand them to one of the nurses who always seemed glad to iron the pattern for her.

Despite having seen her and observed her, Michael had never actually interacted with the girl. Sure, she was interesting, seemingly too innocent to be sat in Smiths Groves, but he wouldn’t talk to her; he wouldn’t talk to anybody. This was how he lived. Day in, day out. Never talking to a soul and nobody willingly talking to him. That was how Michael liked it which is why he couldn’t help but be irritated by the person who was interrupting his mealtime.

“Hi,” in front of Michael stood the bead girl, nervously fiddling with her fingers. “I-I made this for you.” Before he knew it, Michaels hand now held a beaded blushing panda.

He was tempted to snap the poor thing in half, and he would have had he not felt a piece of paper stuck to the back with the crappy tape the sanitorium provides.

“Don’t look yet, look when you’re alone.” She said, leaving with a short nod.

He listened to her words, going to the bathroom, the one place he was allowed to be alone, to read whatever note was scribbled on the paper.

Do you want to escape with me, Michael?

Confusion overtook his mind, the creaking of the tiled walls being the only thing he could fully register.

Not only did she know his name, but she also wanted to escape with him?

Weirdo.

He simply shrugged it off.

*

“Morning, Y/N,” a kind nurse awoke the young girl from her peaceful slumber, something that was rare for her. “Here is your medicine.”

“Thank you, Nurse Green.”

Her small hands grasped the bottle of water they provided her each morning, spare hand now filled with the medication she took daily before gulping down all nine of them with one mouthful of water.

Yesterdays interaction with Michael still plagued her mind.

She knew what he had done to his sister, everybody did, but still he was the only person she somewhat trusted her. Not that she had ever actually spoke to him of course, even though she was exceptionally kind to all those on the ward. She simply hoped he had read the note.

*

Lunchtime came round quite quickly, Y/N refusing to part with her beads and Michael nowhere to be seen, something that wasn’t uncommon.

Her fingers picked out another green bead to add to her new creation, a soft smile gracing her lips as she fit the final bead into the pattern, creating an amazing leaf. She looked up with a smile on her face, ready to show the nurse only to be met with Michael face, head tilted to the side.

“Oh,” she spoke quietly, evidently shocked at the older boy’s presence. “Hi, Michael.” Her kindness didn’t falter however, the shocked look on her face quickly forming back into the smile she wore previously.

Michaels hand reached out to grab the box of beads, pulling it towards him along with a square pegboard. He quickly got to work making a pattern, something that was done in mere minutes, pushing it back towards Y/N before leaving, not sparing her a single glance as he went back to his room.

Confused, Y/N pulled the board towards her. On it was a perfectly designed tombstone, yet it was masked as a grey brick, something Michael knew the nurses wouldn’t pick up on, only someone that was looking or expecting it would. However, beneath the board was a small slip of paper, something that caused her Y/E/C orbs to widen, quickly yet carefully sliding the paper into the pocket of her knitted sweatshirt.

*

“He what?” Loomis’s voice was loud, booming throughout the office. “He interacted with another patient?”

The nurses were unable to tell whether he was scared or happy at this news.

Michael had never interacted with another patient before, never interacted with anyone at all so this was a big surprise to him.

“Leave this to me,”

*

Yes.

This one word was floating around Y/N’s mind for the entire night.

He wants to escape with her? Michael Myers wants to escape with her? It was something she could not refuse, so she got to writing.

*

Over the following months the two shared notes through the beads they would both make. Nobody had spotted this yet, the scheme too smart for the nurses and doctors alike at Smiths Grove. Loomis had been keeping a close eye on the pair, looking for something significant that he could use against Michael but there was nothing yet, nothing at all.

The girl was sat at her usual table, alone for once which was uncommon for her. She wouldn’t have been alone had she not told the usual people that she wished to be alone today.

She was waiting.

Waiting for Michael.

A small sense of glee filled her chest when she noticed him walk into the cafeteria, a small smile following suite. The smile only dropped when he ignored her presence, walking towards where he usually sat. He must have sensed her gaze, glancing up to catch her sight before glancing at the chair opposite him, a silent hint for her to come over which she gladly did.

“Hi,”

Michael didn’t give her a verbal response, something she was used to by now, he instead looked towards her hands that held her most recent pattern: a pink milk carton. She eagerly passed it to him, watching him closely for any sign of reaction as he observed it, the two unaware that somebody else was also watching him.

*

“I want you to cut all communication between Michael and Y/N,” Loomis seemed to have come up with a plan of his own. “We’ll see how he reacts to that.”

“Yes, Dr Loomis.”

*

Y/N sat at the desk in her room, spinning the board around the wood with her finger.

“Why am I stuck in here?” Her tone expressed how fed up she was of being confined her for the entire day. “I’m bored.”

“Why don’t you make something?”

“Why am I here?”

“A doctor wants to see you.”

“I’ve seen all the doctors. Which one?”

“Dr Loomis.”

Oh, so it worked, good to know.

*

A few hours later she was seated on her bed, legs crossed with her pigtails falling down to her knee.

“We’ve met before, Y/N. After you were first sent here.” Loomis did his best to be friendly, hiding the burning curiosity and urge to ask her everything he wanted in one go.

“Yes, Dr Loomis.” Her tone was friendly, also forced.

She was waiting. Waiting for-

An excruciating loud beep blared throughout the entire ward, signalling a door had been opened by one of the patients.

Loomis’s eyes widened, worried that it was Michael who had escaped. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye before rushing off, forgetting to lock the door on the way out, something the pair had planned.

*

Y/N had half expected their planned escape car to be gone by the time she had finished running to the door, Michael probably having using her to escape. Weirdly enough, he was sat there waiting for her, something that made her smile as she hopped into the car.

Their plan, something that had been in the works for an insane amount of time, had worked. Every part of it had gone how they had planned.

“Thank you,” Y/N’s voice was as soft as always, glancing at Michael whose eyes were focused on the road, seemingly dismissing her appreciation.

He wasn’t however. He was silently grateful for her. She had stuck by him, his quiet and rude self. She knew what he had done and had still accepted him, he could see it in her face. He assumed she was simply in for depression or something of the sort, uncaring as to why because all he cared about was leaving and finishing what he had started, but something about her drew him in and he began getting somewhat attached to the girl.

*

The pair drove for hours, having to stop by to get gas before pulling into an abandoned place far away from the main road so that nobody could find them.

“Do you want a drink?” Michael gave her a confused look as she sat on the car, hand stretched out to hand him a bottle. “It’s weird you know,” she continued speaking after he took the bottle from her hand and sat beside her, “I never thought I’d make it to adulthood.”

This further proved his point of her having depression.

“Not that I’m depressed or suicidal or anything. I just thought I’d die by now.” This simply confused Michael. If she wasn’t in there for depression, what was she in for?

The nights sky hung over the pair, stars being one of the only things lighting the place, supported by the car’s lights.

Y/N seemed to sense his confusion.

“Oh, you don’t know what I’m in for? Well, was in for.” Michael simply shook his head.

“I killed someone. My dad. He used to hurt me, physically, mentally, emotionally and a few other things. My mother just watched it all happen, so I tried to kill her as well but she got away and I was dragged there.”

Michael nodded as to show that he understood.

“It’s weird. When I was younger, I always thought I’d be a popular eighteen-year-old with a boyfriend, a lot of friends and all that stuff. I never thought I’d be here,” her gaze fell on Michael, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if I am a virgin.” Y/N made sure to finish her sentence off with a joke, hoping to ease the tension she felt whilst expressing her emotions whilst continuing to stare up at the sky, oblivious to the thoughts running through Michaels head, his face not showing any signs either.

Y/N jumped at the cold sensation of Michaels hand touching her bare thigh, goosebumps rising beneath her dress. “Michael?” She turned to face the unmasked man, only to be pushed to lean against the back of the car with attempted gentleness. “Michael?” She repeated, growing even more confused as he lifted himself over her, able to feel her heart pound.

She didn’t fear him, she had never feared him; he’d never given her a reason. Sure he could be rude towards her, but never fear-inducing, never to her.

“Michael?”

Her words were silenced as Michaels body crawled onto her own, his chest pressed against hers, both hearts racing, despite Michael’s calm composure and Y/N’s confused look. Her eyes widened as she felt Michaels lips against her neck, roughly sucking with such force that she knew it would leave a mark.

A soft moan left her lips when Michael’s hand wandered down to her chest, lightly toying with her nipples before grabbing her breast, massaging it as he did so. The moans that left her lips simply increased Michael’s urges, his desires; he wanted her, and it seemed like she wanted him too.

“Michael-“she murmured, fingers looping themselves in the strands of his hair as he nipped at her skin.

Her free hand ran down his front, searching for his clothed erection which she soon founds, enjoying the breathy moan that Michael made as she slid her hand into his pants. It was quiet, but not quiet enough. Michael’s own hand reached into her own panties, finger soaking up the wetness that had formed at his touch, something that almost made him smirk.

Another moan fell from Y/N’s lips as Michael’s fingers began to explore, the tightness she felt was almost too tight, yet Michael was surprisingly gentle considering who he was. This time Michael couldn’t resist his smirk, being thankful for the fact that his face was buried into the crook of her neck, marking her as his and his only.

Her grip on his hair tightened as he slipped another finger inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust before slowly moving. It wasn’t long before pleasure began to consume her, grip tightening on his hair further as she neared her end.

“M-Michael,” she moaned. “I want you,”

He seemed happy to comply, fingers leaving her heat to unclothe his member. He waited for a moment, searching Y/N’s eyes for any sort of hesitation before sliding in, giving her time to adjust.

“I’m ready, you can move.”

His movements were slow to begin with, giving it his best attempt at not hurting her, something that was incredibly hard for his rough self, but self-restraint can be a magical thing. It wasn’t until the word ‘more’ left her lips that he finally increased his movements.

The cold of the cars metal caused shivers to run down Y/N’s spine, made worse by Michael’s cold hands running across her, now bare, body as moans filled the air.

“I-I’m close,”

Her words only increased his movements more, desperate to reach both their ends. Michael’s hand moved down to her clit, harshly rubbing in hopes that in would held her meet her own release, which it did and she came with one final moan, her sudden tightness triggering Michael’s own orgasm as he came inside of her, their juices mixing together.

Cheeks flushed, both Y/N and Michael wordlessly laid against the car’s windscreen. Deciding to test the waters, Y/N leant herself against Michael’s shoulder, silently pleased when he showed no sign of rejection.

He was surprisingly warm, heating up her cold body in the cool night’s air; she never expected him to be so warm. She lightly wrapped her hand around his upper arm, snuggling herself into his shoulder before falling asleep.

Michael stared at the sleeping girl, confused and shocked at how she had so much trust in him, despite what he had done. It was oddly reassuring to him. Once certain she was asleep, he raised his hand to move a stray strand of hair from her face before falling asleep himself.

“Goodnight, Y/N,”

[wanderinginksplot]

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. “I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor

[irrlicht-writes]

of Rex Lapis and a young boy

“Do you love her?” “What do you want me to say?”

Say yes. Say yes so I can tell myself to stop. If you love her still, then there is no way that there’s place for me in you. Say yes so I can stop thinking, stop pretending. Say yes so I know that you don’t care for me. Say yes so that I know, once and for all, that mortals and gods are not supposed to be next to each other. Say yes so I can try to forget that you are my friend. Say yes so I can forget that you are my only friend. Say yes so I can slap myself and laugh and make a joke about how stupid I am. Say yes so I know that anytime you looked at me, you didn’t look at me at all. Say yes so I know that I’ll never be curious or kind enough. Say yes, so that I know I never mattered at all. | Zhongli would never love him. Zhongli could only love things that were long past, and Childe walked ever toward the future.

Ao3

*

Azhdaha.

Zhongli-xiansheng and the Traveller had left the Harbour for a while to go look at some stones – or something, Childe didn’t ask – and now they’ve returned.

It had stung, just a little bit, when he realised Xiansheng had just dumped him for their meal but that was okay. That was perfectly, absolutely fine. He hadn’t sat there for hours upon end, waiting for him and then heading to the Funeral Parlour just to learn that Zhongli had left the Harbour entirely. That was cool. It wasn’t like they told each other everything, right?

It’s not like Zhongli knew everything Childe was up to in Liyue.

But now they were back, sitting at the Storyteller’s. Zhongli-xiansheng looked great, even. Like he hadn’t missed Childe at all. Yeah. That was cool. Perfectly cool.

He wasn’t even interested in rocks, so no wonder they didn’t ask him to come along. Yeah. Right.

Zhongli told him about Azhdaha in a quiet tone, and Childe knew he wasn’t getting the whole story. The Traveller sat beside them, silent as ever. It was cool. Childe got the picture. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t as dumb as they thought him to be. Childe had heard that tone in Zhongli’s voice many times. For some reason, that tone had always struck him, but he had never been sure why.

He thought he knew, now.

It sounded like Zhongli was talking about something incredibly dear to him.

Not long after, Zhongli left, the Traveller close behind. They barely said good-bye and Childe smiled at them. He was acutely aware of the fact that they left without paying their tab. Yeah. That was fine, he’d just cover it.

“Storyteller,” he requested as he ordered himself the strongest drink this bar had, “can you tell me of Rex Lapis and the Mountain-Dragon?”

And so the Storyteller did.

*

The next day, Childe ventured into Nantianmen. He had seen the tree there before, but had thought little of it. Now, it was different. This is where Azhdaha had been sealed away, right beneath his feet. Zhongli’s friend.

Zhongli’s lover, even.

Back then, hearing about the Goddess of Dust had felt weird, like a mortal Zhongli pining for a Goddess dead way before his time. Now, after everything, it made more sense. When he talked about Azhdaha, Zhongli-xiansheng had the same look in his eyes. A soft, far-away look in his eyes that had always made Childe feel small and unimportant. Which was why, whenever he’d catch that look, he’d crack a joke, or point out a merchant stall.

He stepped closer to the tree and put his hand on the bark.

Did Zhongli come here, to be close to his old friend?

Zhongli never came to him, just to get him.

Always, it had been a matter Childe would have to settle with Mora somehow.

Had he ever been Zhongli’s friend, at all?

“What makes you so special?”

The tree, and the dragon hereby-under, don’t answer.

“Zhongli-xiansheng is rather busy, I apologise.”

To her credit, the Ferry lady did actually look sorry. It did little to stifle Childe’s mood, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. He wondered, idly, why it’s always him that reached out to Zhongli. Why was he the one clinging to a God that lied to him?

Well, maybe he was stupid after all.

He smiled at the Ferry lady and left her. He didn’t tell her to inform Zhongli that he’d been here. Somehow, he doubted that Zhongli would care either way. He pretended it didn’t hurt something in his chest, and returned to Northland Bank.

At least Ekaterina and the others there were forced to care about him. Oh, the luxury of being a Harbinger.

*

Despite him talking about her all the time, Childe knew next to nothing about Guizhong. There also wasn’t that much to find in books. Despite what people might think, Childe actually was a vivid reader. Granted, it tended to be adventure stories, not dry history, but he could expand.

But she had been Morax’ best friend.

And while the dry history books didn’t say it outright, it was clear as day: they all suspected the two to have been lovers in some capacity. The all-powerful Morax, and the sweet, gentle-hearted Guizhong. The perfect pair, even. He was strong where she was weak, and she was wise where he was not.

Childe wasn’t a romantic where it counted, but even he could see the potential in writing stories about a couple like that.

And she died, leaving Rex Lapis behind.

Childe looked out the window.

To be fair, he wasn’t sure why he read about Guizhong in the first place. What was he hoping to achieve? All the books he consumed about Rex Lapis have had a clear goal in mind: stealing the God’s Gnosis.

Not that that had worked, but semantics. Maybe Childe just wasn’t meant to steal someone’s heart.

He went to Guili Plains the next chance he got. He wasn’t sure why, but this place had been named after Guizhong and Zhongli. For all its historic worth, it look desolate. Rationally, Childe knew that a war has taken place here, but still, he had expected more, somehow. He had expected Rex Lapis to try and restore this place that he and his lost lover shared.

He was also a bit disappointed that there were no Glaze Lilies here. The books hadn’t shut up about Guizhong and Glaze Lilies. So much in fact that Childe had had his doubts on whether or not she’d really been the Goddess of Dust or Glaze Lilies.

He wondered what kind of man Zhongli would be today if Guizhong had not died. What kind of man he’d be if he hadn’t needed to seal the dragon away.

If that had been the case, then he probably wouldn’t have cared about Childe at all.

The hole in his chest hurt and he didn’t like it.

With his past dead, Zhongli’s eyes would glance across Childe.

If they had been alive, he wouldn’t have looked at Childe at all.

Wanting to stop, he killed the abyss mages.

*

There were Glaze Lilies blooming in the Harbour. He’s heard that they were cultured there artificially, because they were dying out. Zhongli must hate that fact. But that also meant that Childe of all people would probably not be able to actually approach the stupid flowers.

It had been days since they’ve last met, and Zhongli hadn’t come to him.

Childe felt like a broken tool. He wondered how long it would take him to get used to that feeling.

He wanted to see the flowers, so he snuck out at night. He knew there were some blooming behind the house on the Terrace, so he hoped he wouldn’t be spotted by the Millelith. It’d be hard to explain himself to Lady Ningguang for this, so he’d rather not.

Childe climbed the wall easily and quietly and sure enough, there they were – two Glaze Lilies, blooming under the moonlight. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Did he want to pick them to present them to Zhongli? Probably not.

He reached out with one finger, gently touching one of the petals. Somehow, he was afraid they’d wilt under his touch and die. But nothing happened. Childe sighed and lied down beside the flowers. The sky was clear and bright. When he closed his eyes, he could hear a soft humming in his ears and it filled him with longing for... something. Not a fight, not a victory, not even a loss, just – something. Something he couldn’t have.

“How did you do it?” He asked the flowers.

How did you make Zhongli fall in love with you? How did you make him look at you proper? How did you make him see you? How do you put that tone in his voice and how do you put that look in his eyes?

Childe sighed.

The flowers didn’t respond.

He thought of Azhdaha, who had looked upon the world with curiosity and had learned to love it through Morax.

He thought of Guizhong, who had looked upon her people with endless kindness and had taught Rex Lapis to do the same.

He was neither curious nor kind.

No wonder that Zhongli didn’t care to look at him.

*

Why had the Tsaritsa sent him here? Why couldn’t he have been in on the plan? He could’ve caused a havoc even knowing where Morax was. Why couldn’t he have taken the Gnosis after a done deed? Why did it have to be Signora?

He was Her Majesty’s vanguard, was he not?

Didn’t she think him capable enough?

Why couldn’t Signora have wrecked the city?

Why him?

Was he really only good for front-line mayhem, and nothing else?

The God he had spent so much time with hadn’t even looked at him when he handed his heart away.

The God Childe had believed to be his friend.

He had no friends, now.

Childe put his report away and left the Bank.

It was late, and everything in him yearned for his home.

His home, where his parents would watch him with wary eyes.

Maybe he shouldn’t have come back, when he’d fallen.

When will he hurt Tonia? When will he take Anthon and Teucer, and turn them into monsters too? When will he reveal that our son has never come back at all? How long will this facade last?

He would smile at them, and pretend he didn’t know. He’d pretend that these months had never happened and that they still loved him unconditionally.

He reached the pier and sat down. He wanted to go fishing again.

The water gently dipped at the stone and Childe sighed. He wondered, did Morax laugh at him? Each time Childe had thought he’d been sleek, getting more information from Zhongli, had the God laughed at his ignorance?

But Zhongli had seemed so content, so willing to answer all of Childe’s questions.

It’s an important part of Liyuean’s cuisine, Childe. Please use the chopsticks.

Had Morax been making fun of him?

He’d never hear the end of it, back home in Snezhnaya. He could already hear Scaramouche’s snicker in his ear.

His mark had been right there next to him, ever-correcting the Harbinger’s grip on the chopsticks, and Childe had never known.

A one-way tool of war was probably the best thing he could ever be.

He could neither be curious or kind.

How would a guy like him ever gain the affection of the divine?

“You cannot sleep?”

Childe didn’t turn around.

What did it matter, anyway?

Zhongli sat down beside him with a small sound, reminding Childe how old this man truly was. He’d been a fool. How could Zhongli ever be his friend, with all their differences?

“Tell me a story.”

“What do you want to hear?”

Childe was silent for a moment.

Tell me how I can make you look at me. How can I be kind, or curious enough for you to gain your affection? Tell me how I can make myself significant to you. Tell me how I can be a friend that you’ll remember. Tell me, please. Tell me how to be important to you.

“I don’t know.”

Childe was staring at the water down below. Zhongli’s contract was fulfilled. There was nothing more they had to talk about. Why did Zhongli even acknowledge him? He should’ve just kept walking.

“You have gone to Guili Plains.”

“...yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see,” Childe replied in a hushed voice.

Truth was, he didn’t know. Maybe he had expected the ghost of Guizhong to descend upon him and tell him everything he’d need to know. A stupid, childish thought. She hadn’t come, and his questions have been left unanswered. A god would never descend for him, anyway.

“What did you find?”

“Nothing,” Childe said. “Why didn’t you restore the Plains?”

“Why would I?”

“Because of Guizhong.”

“It’s the place I lost her in. It is difficult to go there, even after all these centuries.”

What did it feel like, making such an impact on an immortal being?

Every time he returned home, he ventured out into the woods again. Some part of him wanted to find the crack in the earth again, where he lost himself and found himself at the same time. Maybe he also hoped he’d find a little Ajax lost in the woods. He didn’t know.

“Do you love her?”

“What do you want me to say?”

Say yes. Say yes so I can tell myself to stop. If you love her still, then there is no way that there’s place for me in you. Say yes so I can stop thinking, stop pretending. Say yes so I know that you don’t care for me. Say yes so that I know, once and for all, that mortals and gods are not supposed to be next to each other. Say yes so I can try to forget that you are my friend. Say yes so I can forget that you are my only friend. Say yes so I can slap myself and laugh and make a joke about how stupid I am. Say yes so I know that anytime you looked at me, you didn’t look at me at all. Say yes so I know that I’ll never be curious or kind enough.

Say yes, so that I know I never mattered at all.

“...say yes, then.”

Childe didn’t remember when he drew his legs in and hugged his knees. He felt smaller and younger than he had in years. Skirk would kill him for this position but she’d never know.

“You’re in pain,” Zhongli said instead and Childe almost wanted to laugh.

“No,” he responded, “I haven’t been in a fight in days.”

“Not all pain is physical, Childe.”

What did he care? Childe wished he’d stop. It was these sorts of talks that put Childe in this situation. If Zhongli would just stop pretending he cared, it’d be all so much easier.

“Kun Jun gave this to me,” Zhongli said and held out his hand, a pretty rock upon it.

For the first time, Childe turned his head. It was a pretty thing, he thought.

“Kun Jun?”

“One aspect of Azhdaha.”

Ah. Yes, the other lost lover. Childe tensed his jaw. Why was Zhongli showing this to him? Was he mocking Childe?

Look, all these pretty things you bought me, and still I value the rock my old lover gave to me more.

There it was again, the pang in his chest. Zhongli never carried around the things he made Childe buy. And now here he was, carrying around some rocks this Kun Jun picked up from the ground?

“It’s pretty,” Childe said then. He didn’t know what else to say and Zhongli clearly cherished this rock.

Mora couldn’t buy someone’s affection. It could buy him any favour he’d ever wanted, but he could never buy genuine feelings. Their friendship had been a farce from the start. Zhongli had used him, just like Her Majesty and Signora had used him.

“It was good, seeing him again,” Zhongli sat, gently holding the stone in his hand. “But it hurt, as well, knowing I’d have to seal him away once more.”

“I’m sorry,” Childe said and he wanted to take the rock and throw it in the ocean.

He bought Zhongli so many things, and he valued none of them. For all he knew, Zhongli had thrown them aside the second Childe had turned his back. He’d never be important enough to Zhongli, so why did he even try? Why did he ever bother? He had wanted to invite Zhongli to his home, to meet his family. He had wanted to show his parents that he was still good, still their son, and that he made a genuine friend.

He couldn’t do that now. At best, Zhongli was a former business associate. Not his friend. Never his friend.

Zhongli didn’t say anything and Childe suspected he was deep in memories. He wanted to stand up and leave but he couldn’t.

“Liyue Harbour exists today because of Guizhong,” he said then and Childe curled up in himself. Just rub it in. How would Childe ever compete?

A curious dragon with pretty eyes and pretty rocks, and a gentle soul of a Goddess with beautiful, humming flowers next to her, an entire city dedicated to her?

What was he against them?

A reckless, arrogant toy soldier. The only thing he was good at was fighting and even then, Morax would be able to beat him blind-folded.

“Without her, I would have never been able to appreciate humans. To me, they were barely a duty, a responsibility, not something worthy of love. But she walked among them, empathised with them and through her and for her, I was able to do the same.”

Childe was a human. But he wasn’t part of the humans Zhongli spoke about. He wished he could take that part out of himself; the part that made his chest hurt. He’d rather endure the pain of his transformation.

“When she died, I was devastated and I wrecked havoc on my enemies. They had killed the gentlest soul I would ever know and they did not deserve mercy for it. But I knew, I knew that that wasn’t what she’d want. She’d want me to protect our people, to become the leader she never got the chance to be. So I taught them to build houses, I taught them to make stoves. And these days, I believe she would be proud of what I achieved.”

He was saying yes, and it hurt. Everything Zhongli had done had been for her. But maybe – maybe that was a good thing. He could let go now, right? He knew know, he had audible confirmation that Zhongli would never look at him, would never care for him. He wasn’t good enough. Nobody would ever build a city for him.

He had to go. He had to leave. He couldn’t see Zhongli again. His feet itched, but he couldn’t move. Zhongli would never love him. Zhongli could only love things that were long past, and Childe walked ever toward the future.

“Why are there no Glaze Lilies in Guili Plains?”

“They are a delicate flower, and Guili Plains turning desolate was too much for them to handle. But if you want to get poetic, then Guizhong’s demise surely had something to do with it.”

Childe wondered. If he died, would – would something wither for him? The seashells he was so fond of, would they crack?

“You miss her.”

“Yes.”

Will you miss me is a question left unasked.

Childe took a deep breath. He would fill the gaping hole inside his chest with blood and glory.

“I have something for you.”

Childe blinked. He didn’t remember buying something. He looked over to Zhongli, who held a sword out to him.

“I have been meaning to give it to you for a while but ah, things got in the way.”

Childe reached for the handle and held the sword up against the moonlight. The blade was green. He’d never seen a weapon like that before.

“I crafted it myself long ago. The blade is cut from the purest jade. I made it for a friend, but sadly, they never got to use it.”

“I...” Childe didn’t know what to say. He didn’t use a sword much these days, but he could appreciate good craftsmanship. And really, he could never have enough weapons.

“Thank you,” was what he settled on and Zhongli smiled at him.

“You wished to hear a story,” Rex Lapis said and Childe nodded, holding his new gift close.

“Once, a long time ago, Rex Lapis encountered a boy. The boy would never learn to fear the God he met and instead, would always smile brightly at him. Some might say the boy was ignorant of who he met, but Rex Lapis greatly enjoyed the company of the boy, unburdened by the past. It’s the tale of Rex Lapis, a god feared for his wrath, and a young boy with kind eyes and a gentle soul, ever ready to overtake the world and unafraid to walk in front of a god he ought to fear.

Once, a long time ago, Rex Lapis encountered a young boy who showed him the light of the sun again.”

Perhaps this was alright. Maybe Rex Lapis would always be stuck in the past and Childe would always walk ahead into the future. As Childe listened to Rex Lapis tell him an ancient tale, he fell asleep next to his friend Zhongli, a green sword tightly hugged to his chest.

He dreamed of a field full of flowers and a god and a boy, holding hands, walking towards the gentle brushing of the sea at the shore.