#so i got to choose which bits to keep AFTER i'd narrowed it down to legible pieces

[townhulls]

continuing my trend of doing literally anything but studying when i should be studying, here are a few blackout pieces i did of russell potter's transcript of the peglar papers. taken from pages 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7.

[jellieland]

It's just like them, thinks Martyn, miserably, To want to make these things stick.

He's always been an "act first, weasel your way out of any potential consequences later," kind of guy, so immediate, painful and permanent consequences to his recklessness strike him as unfair, unwarranted, and quite possibly a personal attack.

But, well. Here he still is anyway. What's he going to do about it?

His ankle burns where the baby zombie clawed at it. His legs ache from the dripstone, and the dripstone, and, yes, the dripstone again, and also walking off Mumbo's house and perhaps slightly misjudging his landing.

His ear keeps ringing and most of his right side stings from the creeper that decided, quite rudely, to sneak up on him and then blow up directly in his face about half a second before he could raise his shield. And the gravel later on, that he'd seen falling but still not managed to avoid, hadn't helped with any of that either.

He can feel blood dripping down his back in no less then five separate places, along with his arm, his shoulder, and the side of his head—that last one bled a lot and got onto his bandanna which was pretty annoying, actually—all from his many encounters with what he thinks were probably, at a conservative estimate, about a billion skeletons.

He doesn't quite glare up at the Secret Keeper. The healing they'd given him had been too much of a relief for that; his vision had stopped swimming, that head wound had stopped bleeding so much, and it was significantly less painful to walk. But the look he gives them is certainly glare-adjacent.

"You do know injuries aren't supposed to stick around like this, don't you?" he mutters, bitterly. "I know you like twisting stuff, but this is ridiculous. It's unnatural, is what it is!"

Someone snorts behind him.

He turns, and he sees Cleo. Neat, meticulous stitches are visible across their skin. Martyn hasn't met many people with scars before, but she's one of them.

The only new one is what looks, ironically enough, like a zombie bite on their arm, entirely healed over.

"It's really not that hard to deal with if you're just patient," she says.

"Ah," he says. "Well. That's my problem right there, then, isn't it?"

"It certainly looks like it," they say, amused. They're laughing at him again. He can't even be mad, since all in all, he totally deserves it.

"Yeah, alright," he says, a bit indignant just for the sake of what remains of his pride. "No need to rub it in! I hope you realize that if healing just worked normally, I'd be doing really well, actually."

"Hmm. Right, you do tend to throw yourself off of cliffs, and then try and work out how you'll save yourself on the way down, don't you?" She gives him a knowing look. "But look on the bright side—when you do die, you'll get to be perfectly healthy again for... I give it ten seconds. After that, you'll start making decisions."

"Hey, I'll have you know I went to the Nether for ages, and got out without a scratch on me that I didn't have when I arrived!" he retorts.

"Oh, so you can be careful, you just choose not to be?" They raise a judgemental eyebrow.

"Well... I mean." He half-shrugs, then winces. "I mean. Yeah. Yes. You know this about me."

There is a brief pause. She gives him an unreadable look, eyes catching on the blood seeping through his shirt. "...Yeah. I guess I do."

He glances over at the Secret Keeper again, bold and unmoving against the unnaturally darkened sky.

When he looks back, Cleo is still watching him. "You didn't even bandage those, did you?" they ask, with a touch of what most people would think was disdain. "Let alone stitch them up."

"I mean, no? It's not like it'll do anything, is it?" he asks, taken aback. "The good old 'Powers That Be' want us to bleed, and they want us to keep bleeding! Who am I to argue?"

She narrows her eyes as though she doesn't quite understand his point. "I'm not saying that would fix it. I don't think any of us are going to live long enough for that method of healing to work." They shrug. "Would make it hurt less, though."

Now it's his turn to narrow his eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she says. "At least, so I've heard. For me, it's mostly about making sure I don't start physically falling apart, because it's really inconvenient when that does start happening."

He nods in acknowledgement. "Well, maybe I'll give it a go if I have the time." It all sounds a bit far-fetched to him. Much better to spend time working towards completing the next secret task he gets, or persuading people to give him the healing they have to spare, rather than losing hours on something that wouldn't actually help him in the long run.

(Maybe it's an echo, maybe it's just who he is, but Martyn's time is precious, and he is not giving it up for something so monotonous. Who would find that interesting?)

"Alright," they say. "If you're sure. But no one else is going to do it for you, you know."

He snorts. "Cleo," he says. "You're funny." She, of all people, should know he's already well aware of that.

"Right," they say, dryly. "Well, unless you want anything else I think I'm done here."

"Nah, not really." he says, then pauses. Frowns.

As unconvinced as he is, she really didn't have to say that to him. She deserves at least something in return.

"I will say," he says delicately, "if that advice really does help. You should probably keep it to yourself. You know. Death game, and all that."

All at once, their expression turns cold. "I think it's my business what I choose to give up, actually," she snaps.

Martyn's eyes briefly flick over to the Secret Keeper. "I mean..."

"No. I meant what I said." They cross their arms. "It's up to other people what they choose to do with it. But what I give them is up to me." She glances at the Secret Keeper, and then back to him. "No one's ever been able to tell me what I owe, or don't owe, to anyone." They smirk, and give him a piercing look. "You know this about me."

"...Yeah," he says. "I guess I do."

There is a short silence.

"Well!" He claps abruptly. "I won't keep you!"

"No, you won't," she says. "I'd best be off. This might come as a surprise, but I do actually have better things to do than hang out around Grian's creepy rock all day."

"Fair, fair." He chuckles, and raises a hand in farewell as they leave. "See you around."

Once she's out of sight, he goes back to staring at the Secret Keeper.

It's quiet.

"They're doing pretty well this time, huh?" he says. "If she keeps going like this, she probably won't get another happy ending, will she."

The air is very still, here. It's as though the place is trapped in night, even when he can see the sun in the sky.

The Secret Keeper does not answer him.

"I know you, though," he says. "You won't let it be all about being careful. That would be boring."

The thought nags at him that Cleo hasn't sounded as though they'd found any of this boring. Surely there had to be more to it than what she'd said? There had to be.

If there wasn't, then what was the point of all this pain?

He shifts, and his shoulder twinges, and he hisses quietly with frustration.

"Things already stuck," he says, unhappily. "They already stayed. I thought that was obvious."

The rock just stands there.

Judgemental. Impartial. It's impressive how it can manage to be both.

Martyn sighs heavily, and winces, and turns away. He looks towards his extremely small, entirely copied base, and a place where the sky is capable of letting in the light.

He pokes gingerly at his head wound. It's shallow, but painful.

"Maybe just this one," he mutters. "Could repurpose my bandanna. Although I guess I should probably wash it first. That would be smart." He wipes at his face. "If I don't then blood's going to start getting in my eyes. But not in a cool way, just in a way where I'll fall in a ravine by accident or something."

Nobody responds. That's ok. He hasn't exactly endeared himself to anyone, recently.

In a game that's even more about trust than usual, there's a part of him that doesn't mind being a lone wolf, as it were. At least for now. Harder to stab someone in the back if you don't let them get behind you, right?

He can make this work. He'll just have to adapt. He's good at that, usually! He just has to find the angle.

After all, he may not be patient, but he is persistent.

And he suspects being a liar will come in handy, for this one.

[msommers]

1, 3, 4, 14, 18 for riya, meredith and ellana!

thank youuuu xoxo we ignore how long this took between forgetfulness and having no braincells xoxoxo // questions about creating your ocs

1) What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)?

RIYA — because we knew the campaign at large would span the 15-year long third blight, the first thing i landed on was the base concept of a character who could grow into the type who would willingly brave that ultimate sacrifice to end the blight when it came down to it. obviously with no guarantee of Give Me That Death It's All I Want or even reaching that point, i was just interested in exploring what type of clown i could force into this inevitable character development. 

MEREDITH — god. it's been so long. it was probably her appearance because i went into origins as a baby da fan and didn't know what to expect. which is kinda funny now because her appearance is the biggest change she’s ever had thru all these years. 

ELLANA — on my second playthrough when i knew at least a little bit of what the fuck i was doing in the setting, i believe the first consideration for her was whether i wanted to double down on my interest in the elven culture in thedas that'd i'd developed during my first run of the game or if i wanted to try focused on other aspects (fairly obvious nowadays that i went with the former). 

3) How did you choose their name?

RIYA — i went back into dms with the dm and turns out i chose the name because of the cute nicknames you could get out of it. so pretty much nailed it first try because riya is iconic tbh

MEREDITH — she's one of my oldest characters which means i didn't do Any research before picking her name, meredith was chosen purely because i've been in love with the name since i first read the vampire diaries books when i was a tween. its meaning being “great ruler” was pure destiny, i'll never get over that discovery. 

ELLANA — default name pretty 🥰🥰 and no i still haven't landed on an extended version of her name, don't talk to me about it i have problems making decisions (someone send help).

4) In developing their backstory, what elements of the world they live in played the most influential parts?

RIYA — without a doubt the fact that mages in nevarra were given an absurd amount of freedoms compared to countless places, i loved that. i believe soon after that i stumbled upon the vague history tidbit that a duchess had donated her “palatial estate” to become the new college of magi because she had a mage daughter, and that became a solid base for the new pc right quick. riya was shaped so fast between that initial concept and these two discoveries it wasn't even funny. somewhere in there i found the grand tourney business, dunno when. 

MEREDITH — okay so take literally every element of the human noble origin story and its plot through the game and there. you got it. the entire laundry list that had me fucking obsessed with mere since the jump because everything there ticks my boxes. the politics, the family ties and history, the kingdom pride, the sense of duty that's matched in intensity only by the inescapable desire to enact justice (bordering on violent vengeance lmao) for your family and people with your own two goddamn hands because nobody else is going to get it for you. also you have a cute dog right off the bat, that rules. 

ELLANA — her creation is so. muddled to me because she was the first character i ever played a da game with, so most of the influential elements likely just popped up in inquisition at some point or other and nothing stands out there. my best guess would be that the vallaslin and god domains played a good part tho, because there being a goddess of motherhood and justice has been huge for her.

14) If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?

RIYA — it physically pains me sometimes, but the first is that i have to remember just how privileged this woman was and try to reflect that in what she says and how she reacts to things (i took psychic damage when she blatantly was judging every bit of that little village). second would be that i have to remind myself how much pain and trauma is gathering up in this mage, unhealed and unacknowledged, because sometimes i can forget while caught up in all that’s going on just how fucking bad it really is. i’ll go quiet here and there during a scene not because i can’t think of what riya would say, but because i realized something would’ve triggered her to spiral into the negative feelings and all she’d be capable of is a “hm” or clear i want to get the fuck out of here one-liner lmao

MEREDITH — number one is that she’s putting noble responsibilities above all else always, sometimes to the detriment of other priorities and even relationships. second is that “canon” doesn’t matter at all and i can have fun with her story however i want, who gives a fuck. follow the fun and all that. i have to keep this in mind for her out of everyone because she has some Strong negative opinions on certain characters which have some,,,aggressive fans and that held me back for a good while lol

ELLANA — first is that she approaches things with gentleness and empathy 99% of the time, even if it’s not advisable and she has people pushing against it. second is naturally Legacy, because that fuck haunts her past, present and future. she's constantly musing on it for both herself and others, and its influence on her can't be noted enough. i have a vivid memory of pausing the hakkon dlc to repeatedly bash a pillow against my face to let out the emotions i was dealing with because the plot was trying to end my fucking life with ameridan and ellana.

18) What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

RIYA — the first thing i can think of was a few months back with the callout that correctly identified riya’s lowkey desperation to get warden-commander satine’s approval as her having mommy issues. blatantly obvious fact, yeah, but it had gone without being commented on and it took me tf out for a few minutes after hearing it. as you can imagine she’s thriving after each positive response from sending updates sent the warden-commander’s way.

MEREDITH — ooooh, a few things because of that long ass warden sheet i’ve been slowly chipping away at in the docs. i believe the most recent is that i never gave this poor woman some hobbies outside of a minor interest in map sketches, so i’ve been on-off thinking about that for a little while. who knows what i’ll land on, i’m lazy. embroidery was a contender because it's the Classic for noble ladies and also i think she deserves arts & crafts fun, just look at her life she needs it

ELLANA — nothing really, she's been consistent for a long while 🤷‍♀️ closest thing is that i did very briefly revisit the ancient idea that i think she deserves one or a few kids to fulfill her “mama bear” energy to a more literal degree but that's mostly a goof. 95% a goof. maybe 90%. if she ends up w kids at the end of this week i can’t be held accountable-

[exitvelocities]

on fandom and writing.

so that meme about showing how many fandoms you've written for is going around bsky and i assume twitter and here's mine:

the way i put it on bsky is that my purview is narrow and my start up cost is high. two of those (yowapeda and all out) are only in there as part of multi-fandom drabble dumps from the bygone saso days; chyf and oofuri i did at least write short (<1K) pieces for chocolate box. the last three are the main fandoms i've produced for in the last decade or so. daiya for about three years 2014-2018, bad buddy from late 2022-mid 2023 or so, and now mlc from april 2024 on.

i hope i'll be able to hold on to mlc for longer than i was bad buddy but i think i will -- i've been able to find enough community that i think it will stick for a while. part of that is the leap of faith that is the dihua discord server, but finding any cdrama friends at all has been a journey since my old circles are all dwrp and sports anime.

fandom for me is inherently a social activity or i would just stay in my corner and enjoy by myself like i do for most things; the main thing that motivates me to become active in a fandom is the desire to talk to someone about it. the desire to write may or may not be there without having someone to talk to, but even a little bit of encouragement goes a long way, so just someone saying "yeah i'd read that" was enough to get me to commit to my usual fic meme bullshit and that, i think, also helped find some more people to talk to, or at least interact with on some level.

i'm actually a very introverted person but i've been spending a lot of energy trying to foster a friendly environment on the server and hopefully in this space, though i can't see how well that's working as clearly. i gather the energy to throw myself at new people approximately once a decade lol so it's a little surprising that i'm managing so quickly after flaming out in my last fandom but mlc and dihuas in particular have been really welcoming.

anyway, this was supposed to be a post about writing. writing is pretty difficult for me in many ways, but it's also just. sort of what i do. so if i love something enough to want to talk to another human about it, it's not a stretch that i'll eventually want to create for it too. granted, for me, this is often expedited if i get bitten by the ship bug. i did actually watch mlc when it aired last year, but didn't really look into fandom or fic for it until earlier this year and sort of got delayed-reaction thunderstruck by dihua, which has so many elements that i love in a ship. the tension! the fondness! the trust and knowing! i should have known i was a goner but i didn't until i was falling headlong.

according to ao3 i've produced about 16K of mlc fic since april of this year. now, i know that's not a not for some, but to contrast my highest production year was 24K in 2015, so, for me: quite a lot! especially within that time period. i'm slowing down now/it's getting harder again but i don't plan on stopping so we'll see what my count is by the end of the year.

like many writers, i battle with self-confidence and mlc fic in particular has been a weird struggle for me. my writing hallmarks from previous fandoms have been atmosphere and poetics, succinct characterization, and imagery. for mlc fic i feel like i'm at 1 out of 3. i think (hope!) my character work is still good, but i feel like my writing for this fandom has been so plain. i want to write pretty things for this ship! i will keep trying. i may just need to eat more poetry and spend more time violently throwing myself around when trying to write, but hopefully i will manage at some point.

this post actually started with me thinking about why i choose to make my fic meme/drabble dumps chaptered rather than posting them individually when visibility/feedback/attention are unfortunately so important to me. every kudos, comment, tag comment, reblog, rec, etc really means a ton. writing is something that takes up a ton of energy and sometimes it can feel like you're pouring a whole lot of it out and not getting any in return and, for me at least, that's what burn out feels like. at the same time, like. in the end you're always writing for yourself so you sort of have balance that with how feedback or lack thereof makes you feel.

fic meme does get posted separately here on tumblr so maybe with that i get a little best of both worlds? i don't do it on ao3 because it would just straight up make me feel crazy to have literally 100+ 300-700ish word long ficlets scattered across my account over the decade, all needing titles, so my need to have things organized and in their place wins out over the need for validation there.

i don't know where i was going with this anymore tbh, but thanks if you read it! also thank you thank you thank you so much to those of you who take the time to read and respond to fic in some way, whether it's reblogging with tags, leaving comments, or just hitting the kudos button. i really can overemphasize how important these thing are as a fic writer.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey hey :D I have a request if it’s ok?

For the actor au, Gil and Thena are shooting a scene and it has to be a pretty emotional one. Gil’s character has to beg with tears and a heartbreaking speech that she stays with her, that he needs and loves her very much (it can be a breakup or a death scene. You choose) And lemme tell you something he is such an amazing actor that Thena actually gets a bit emotional and everyone including her gets speechless.

Give us some heavy emotional speech from Gil and soft and lovely moment in the end <3

She turned, startling to find him there. "Wh-What are you doing here?"

"Are you okay?" he asked, walking over to her with his hands in his pockets.

She swiped the evidence of her tears from her cheeks. She attempted to say something but ended up just nodding, looking down at her feet and the beautiful bathroom tile below them. The lights on the back of the mirror gave her a glow, while they brought out the handsomeness of his features. "You shouldn't be in here."

"I had to see if you were okay," he whispered, knowing the line it crossed for both of them. He didn't stop getting closer, though, moving until he could lean, bracing himself against the corners of the sink, her pinned between. His eyes met hers, "are you?"

She eyed him, also trying to judge just how far they would take things. "I'm sure my fiance will ask me that."

He didn't even blink. "You're not gonna marry him."

"Excuse me?"

"You're not gonna marry him, and we both know it."

"Oh, I'm not?" she glared at him. She had plenty to say, and she would get her chance.

But this was his chance to say his peace. It had been building up in him, after all, and this was his last chance to get it all out before neither of them could turn back. "No, you're not."

"And why is that?" she whispered. It wasn't a taunt, it wasn't a dare, because that wasn't how she wanted to do things. She was asking--she was asking him to tell her. To give her a reason.

His head hovered closer to hers, their words coming out soft and breathy against the glass behind her. "Because you don't love him, and you never have."

She stared hard past him, determined to keep some even ground in the argument, "love isn't always required in a marriage."

"No," he conceded, because it was true. He moved a thumb, and it moved dangerously close to touching her hand, which he had forbade himself from doing this whole time. If he touched her skin even once, he would come undone completely. "But you do love me."

She bristled, her shoulders rising, narrowing in her own space between his arms around her.

"And I damn well love you." The line that couldn't be crossed--it wasn't the wedding happening literally the next day. It wasn't the wedding march, it wasn't even the 'I do's. It was this simple truth that existed for them both, in between them like thread tying them together no matter the distance. "I love you-"

"Don't," she whispered, those eyes glittering with any number of emotions swimming in them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Because he had spent all this time here for her. He had only come because she had asked him to. Because he would do anything for her. "I said I'd do anything for you."

She blinked at him, a few more tears falling. "So...don't."

He reached up, brushing away her tears with his thumb. He had broken his rule in one swift move, and he had not one regret about it. "I just can't seem to, sweetie. Not this time."

She squeezed her eyes shut, visibly trying to both lean into his touch and pull away from it. "Why now?"

He let out a laugh, although it was just a breath. It was the only thing he had left, and it was hers too. "Now? No--I have loved you. I have loved you all this time."

"I never stopped loving you, for a single second. Not since the first moment I fell off my bike and you helped me up. Not since I got on that plane and not even when I got back and saw him standing next to you. I don't give a shit about him, but you?"

She turned her head as his lips hovered devastatingly close to kissing her cheek.

"I need you," he confessed like it was being dragged out of him. His breath hit her cheek, spreading over her skin. He could imagine the pink of it under her makeup. "I need you like I've never needed anything so badly in my damn life."

"I got on that plane and I thought I wasn't coming back. I thought I was off to follow my dreams, like I always wanted. Like you always told me I should."

"And then I got there, and...a-and you weren't there," he laughed, because it was such a simple, obvious statement. But the physical feeling it stirred up inside of him demanded to be spoken. "You weren't there, and it was like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't hear your voice, I couldn't see your smile. I couldn't catch your laugh from the other room and it...it broke something in me."

"I missed you like I never thought possible." He lifted his eyes, meeting hers again, still hovering dangerously close but tortuously far from her. "And I thought coming back would solve that."

She closed the distance herself, pressing her forehead to his cheek, more tears coming. "How did we get this so wrong?"

"I don't know," he whispered back, running his hand over her arm. His fingers trailed over her until he could run over that big, fat engagement ring on her finger. "Doesn't suit you."

"I know," she whispered, and he let his resolve settle over him like a blanket.

"You're not marrying him. And you can leave with me now, or tomorrow in front of the entire wedding. But I'm leaving with the woman I love, Thena."

"Cut!"

Both actors took a second to come out of the heavy and demanding scene. Gil slumped back, picking himself up slowly. Thena blew out a breath, blinking and dabbing at her tears.

A few of the crew had tears in their eyes, actually.

"That was great, guys," the director congratulated, hopping off his chair and walking into the bathroom set with them. "Honestly, I think we got it."

"Uh," a PA from behind the monitors held up a pen, "except that last line. You called her Thena."

"What?" Gil blinked. He wouldn't have--that was such a basic mistake to make. Did he?

The Director waved the script in his hands around, "so we cut around it, no big deal. We're gonna run it again for the big reveal anyway. But first, we need those closeups. Let's touch up and then we're back to one, people!"

Gil let out a nervous breath, shaking his energy out of him as hair and makeup and wardrobe did their best to squeeze in through the lights to get to the two leads. He looked over at Thena, "you okay?"

She let out a light laugh, and he felt something stir in his chest. All the better to think of for when his character brought up physically feeling its absence. She met his eyes over a makeup artist's shoulder, "and the oscar goes to."

"Come on," Gil let out a puff of air, turning bashful.

"Really," she said softly, and he could hear her still trying to shut it off. Her voice was still tight from crying. "If I heard a speech like that, I would abandon my wedding too."

Gil peeked over at her again as the other women around her murmured their agreements with the statement. They were fluffing her hair and reapplying some setting powder to her cheeks. He was getting so used to seeing her out of makeup he was starting to believe she was prettier without it.

This was exactly why he had flubbed his last line; he shook his head. He had to stay in character. He had to remember her character! If only he could remember her name. "Can I get my script real quick?"

[cheelduh]

How to bet your way into someone’s heart. (Highschool AU)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Fake weed. Poor Signora smh. Oh yes, lots of swearing. UNEDITED ASF IM LAZY BYE.

Synopsis: Childe is being an infatuated idiot, Lisa has eyes for vending machine chocolate, and Kaeya is desperately in need of a pencil. With all these distractions, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able focus on the task at hand.

This is crack.

I don’t have time.

You think as you race down the hallway, shoes slapping against the floor as you expertly dodge multiple students in your way.

Bullet. You're as fast as a bullet, because everyone around you is a blur and you don't stop, can't stop, not until you meet your target.

It's funny how one can accomplish many challenges and feats they were unable to, merely due to pressure. Pressure is a twisted ugly thing that can gnaw its way into the pit of your stomach and grow like a parasite. Pressure is a parasite that can either bring the best in you, or the worst, but at the cost of one's peace of mind.

"Move it Signora!" You shouted a warning at the senior blocking your way. There wasn't any time for you slow down at that point, and you'd risk bumping into the breakfast club's stall if you swerved to the side, sending juice flying everywhere.

Signora's eyes widened momentarily, getting the gist albeit her anger, and choosing to back up flatly against the locker.

Her lipstick nearly slips from her fingers as you swerve past, a thick gust of wind in your wake.

It messes with the hair she woke up two hours early for.

Signora plots her revenge. You still don't have time.

You nearly kick the door to your home room down, but you can't risk the perfect image your teachers have of you. So you pat down your t-shirt, take five tempting deep breaths, and tentatively knock the door.

The door opens and you're met with a young man, familiar amber pupils welcoming you.

You try not to huff and puff at the cost of your stamina. Thinking back, there's no way in hell you could have physically been that fast.

"Good morning Y/N," Your homeroom teacher gives you a small smile, moving aside to let you in. "Class is just about to start."

You check your watch, then turn to him with an apologetic tone, trying not to crack under the eyes of your classmates. "I'm so sorry Mr.Zhongli, I slept through my alarm."

Your idiot ass forgot to set one because you studied till four in the morning.

"You're like thirty seconds late, cut the shit." Beidou boos from the back, causing your stance to stiffen.

"I don't wanna hear it Beidou. If anything, you're two periods earlier than usual." Ningguang calls her out for you, but you have a feeling it's more so on behalf of a personal vendetta.

Ignoring the two bickering, Mr.Zhongli gives you the handout. "Take a seat. Do not fret over such minuscule things dear."

Relief washes over you. Your impeccable attendance is not on the line.

Childe tries to flag you down next to him but you send him a pointed glare and sit next to Lisa instead.

"You should give him a chance you know." Lisa doesn't even have to open her eyes to know what's going on.

"Please," You scoff, digging through your bags to collect your notes. "As if I have the time to fool around with a shady kid like him."

Your friend sighs in disapproval, and makes no move to take out her own notes as Mr.Zhongli begins the lecture on the Archon war.

"You should really pay attention." It bothers you that she doesn't, but then again it's not your place to tell her what to do or not to do.

"I don't need to." She yawns, blinking an eye open towards you. "I have you after all."

"I'm tired of saving your ass." You groan and pull a pen out of your pocket to get started on the exercises as Mr.Zhongli talks in the background.

The course outline contained all the topic, and you made sure to teach yourself as much as you could before class to stay ahead.

Immersed in the worksheet, you blinked away your sleep and tried to answer as many questions as you could at the moment. You didn't hear the slight shift next to you, and the change of breathing, or the rate of which time went by.

A familiar scent makes its way into your nostrils.

"Lisa. Why do you smell like mango juul juice." You know the scent from when Signora blew a mango flavoured fog in your face yesterday at lunch when you said you were hungry.

A chuckle erupts and you freeze in place. "That's because I'm not Lisa."

You blink. Once, twice, and then crane your head to the side to meet a pair of teasing cerulean eyes.

Fingers loosening in shock, the pen drops on the desk with a short thud.

You whisk your head towards the front of the classroom, and Mr.Zhongli is nowhere to be seen.

"There's no saving you now." Childe's smirk widens, and he scoots closer to you. "Mr.Zhongli had to get something from the staff room. The staff room is near the cafeteria."

"Which is also near the merch stall." You grumbled, bringing both hands to massage your temples as a headache is beginning it's reign.

"Tsk tsk. Smart girl. I'd like to add that he's forgotten his wallet in his office as well, which is in the south wing."

"Son of a..." You mutter underneath your breath, and opt to scoot further back, but your efforts are futile because your desk is in a corner.

Your next beacon of hope is Lisa, so you scan the room full of chattering students, only to find her pestering her crush, Jean.

Shit...there's nothing getting you out of this one.

"What did it take?" Is your only question, the despair starting to brew. How much did it take for your best friend to betray you?

"A dollar and fifty for vending machine chocolate."

You take a moment to breathe, calming your nerves and burying down the urge to screech. "What will it take?"

"For what?" Childe replies back innocently, and you can't believe how fast he can change masks. You almost give in.

"For you to leave me alone."

"Aww come on girlie," He whines, closing in the distance. "Don't be so cold."

What did your mom tell you that one time? Oh yes. That if you were ever backed against a wall, then just break the damn thing down.

Too bad it's figurative. You're just about ready to sock him in the face if you didn't know he was into that sort of thing.

"I'm serious about you," He says, and it sounds so real, so genuine, nearly makes you sputter. "See? I've even bought school supplies.

He unzips his light backback and spills the contents on the table.

A lone piece of paper flies out, a lighter, and a mechanical pencil with no lead that follows straight after. There's also a pocket knife that you choose to ignore.

You're not the least bit surprised.

"First of all, how the fuck are you passing this class. Second, do you really think I'm into nerds?"

"Well, considering that you are a nerd—"

"You're making things worse."

"My bad, my bad." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But on a serious note. I'll do anything."

You cross your arms. "I'm not just another one of your conquests Childe. It's not like I have the time. There are better things to do."

"You need to relax." He says so simply, with complete disregard as to what you are trying to say.

"I am relaxed." You reply, picking up your pen to continue your work. If he's going to annoy you, then you might as well get shit done while he's at it.

You're not wasting any more time.

"When was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?" His voice is soft, too soft, and it's not at all like the Childe you know.

Your pen stops momentarily, but you will yourself to continue writing. The words look fumbled, but you don't care. The best thing to do is get your work done and ignore the idiot next to you.

"C'mon, Zhongli won't be back for another half an hour at least. Let's go." He kicks the bottom of your chair to urge you.

The pen shakes in your hand, and you narrow your eyes at the paper, digging holes into poor question eight. "I'm trying to work here. Let me work." You'll say anything to get him off your back.

"Fine fine fine..." He raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'll stop bothering you."

Your ears perk up at that, and you turn to him so fast he has to hold in his laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah," Childe nods along, bringing your hopes up. "If you win a bet, that is." And they're back to ocean level.

You roll your eyes. There's always a catch. That doesn't mean you're any less interested.

"What's the bet?" You ask curiously, all your focus now on him. Just as he longed for from the very start.

He flicks a thumb towards the door, leaning closer to whisper next to your ear. "We bet when Zhongli comes back."

"Are you kidding me?" You aren't bothered at all at the close proximity, mainly because you're too tired and only care about the freedom that will come with your win.

Childe, however, is a completely different story. His heart is beating a thousand times a second, but his face doesn't show it. Not one bit.

Kaeya leans in from the seat behind you two, interested in what's going on. "Ooooh secrets."

"Shut up Kaeya." Childe and you monotonously drone in sync, still having your little staring contest.

The captain of the skating team smiles, about to ask—

"No. We don't have an extra pencil. Even if we did we wouldn't give it to you." Childe finally breaks his gaze to scare off Kaeya.

Kaeya raises a smug brow, and leans back in his chair like the jerkwad he is. "Then don't let me keep you two love birds."

That's all it takes for him to earn Childe's unwavering respect and loyalty for as long as he lives.

After the two are done creating an elaborate handshake as a mark of their newfound friendship, you decide to just forget about the handout. It's not like you're getting anything done anyways.

"Anyways, back to the bet." Childe says, resting his cheek on his fist as he stares at you dreamily. You try not to break under his gaze.

"If I win, you have to go on a date with me."

"No way in hell—"

"Then I'll bother you for the rest of highschool."

Highschool is eternity. You don't want to live through an eternity of this.

"Fine." You answer, and for the first time he sees genuine fear in your face, it makes him waver slightly. Not enough for him to pity you.

"If I win..." You trail, thinking loud and clear as you ignore the excited chatter of your classmates. "I want you to pay attention to class."

"What?" He exclaims incredulously, blinking in disbelief. "I thought you'd get me to stop talking to you altogether."

"If you're paying attention in class, you don't bother me as much and your grades go up." You grin smartly, and oh archons it livens his entire day up, and it's only nine in the morning.

"You care about my grades?" Childe bites back a smile.

"Not at all." You lie, and quickly look away. Woah the floor tile looking trippy.

He decides it's better to get on with the bet without causing you any more distress. After all, you've given him such cute facial expressions today. He's feeling quite generous.

Pulling out his cracked-as-shit latest model phone, he unlocks it and tinkers with it a bit before turning the screen towards you.

"We'll be using this to time both of our predictions at the same time. Whoever has the closer time to when he finally swings by is the winner." The rules are simply put, no room for error.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Why am I seeing a slime review?"

"SHIT!" Childe fumbles with his phone, aggressively tapping on the screen. He lowers his head and voice as if he's been through fifty consecutive hits in the face. "It's uh, Teucer's account."

"Yeah...okay." Is all you can say.

"Ok what do you bet?" He changes the topic to unfuck the situation.

Putting a finger in your chin, you think for a minute, calculating the average of all the times Mr.Zhongli has left the classroom for a considerable amount of time.

"Fifteen minutes." You're sure of it. It's like clockwork every day.

"Hmm..." Childe crosses his arms, seemingly in deep thought. "Five minutes." He places his bet, and both timers start simultaneously.

Five minutes?! Is he serious?

You laugh inwardly. This challenge is in the bag.

The sense of victory you feel dulls when your ears pick up the echo of footsteps nearing the classroom.. Both your heads snap up to the doors.

There's something scary about Childe once his competitive side comes out. "Looks like I've won." He turns to you, eyes darkening evilly.

"What? There's no way in hell a ginger is right." Your palms are clammed up, eyebrows furrowed in panic. You calculated every single variable, how could this be?

You race to the front, Childe right on your tail as the entire class clamps up. The footsteps get louder, causing even whispers to become total silence.

Then it hits you. The shitty music about getting bitches and bars playing on the other side.

The door is swung open by Childe, and you're face to face with an idiot sophomore with a speaker in his pocket.

Childe’s grin is long gone, and you sigh in relief.

The false alarm encourages the class to return back to their idle chatter.

"Scaramouche?" Childe spits, narrowing his eyes at the unamused boy. "I thought it was Signora's shift today."

By "shift" he means being a complete dickwad and scamming fake weed to students in return for their souls. It only really works on the freshmen.

The only reason the club still runs is because Signora threatened the principal with some sus pictures she snapped of him and his assistant.

"Apparently she had an emergency." Scaramouche explains, lowering the volume on his outdated beats pill. "Something about a hair appointment because she got ran into by a, and I quote "lecherous imbecile.""

You steer clear of the conversation, finding the whiteboard far more fascinating and worth your while.

A loud cough is heard from behind the kid, and you're met with a crestfallen look on your beloved teacher's face.

You go through a whiplash of emotions, becoming completely numb towards your loss.

"They were out of slow cooked bamboo shoot soup." He sighs, handing a stack of papers to Childe, who is wearing the fattest smirk on his face at his victory. "Please hand these out to your classmates Childe, and we will begin shortly."

You check down at the timer despite knowing who’s won. Five minutes and twenty five seconds. Somehow, you don't feel as dejected as you thought you'd feel.

Maybe the date will be fun. Maybe Childe isn't so bad. Maybe...you do have time to indulge in these sort of things. If he’s so hell bent on getting your attention, perhaps it’s possible that you can make some room in your heart for him.

However, all those thoughts fly out the window when Childe hands you the new worksheet.

“I hope you're ready for our date tomorrow. We'll be sparring till sundown, and after you’ll be feeding me with chopsticks." He winks, and it makes your heart flip even though all you want right now is to go to the bathroom and barf your guts out.

Feelings are complicated.

You smile back at him nauseously, tight lipped and all, then you pull out your phone, go on maps, and search for the closest cliffs to jump off of.

After he's done, Childe slouches back in his original seat with a different kind of enthusiasm, and opens up his messages. He texts Zhongli a "thank you <3".

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

¤°~Ghost Marriage: Lovely Bride To Be?! Part 3°~¤

Previously... 

"STOP YOUR STEP!!"

At the end of the hall, Senior Vanrouge and Sebek were conversing with the ghosts knights. "They became angery just because of a mere joke I made about them. Such a bunch of narrow minded ghosts." Lilia jests with ignorance in his tone.

"Ugh, the guys from Diasomnia! Why did you bring these ghosts here?!" Ace yells out in fear. "You naive ghosts who dare to snarl at Lilia. I'll get rid of you guys!" Sebek said with very little amusement.

Present Time..

After the fight with the ghosts. The student's and Headmaster go to the field so ghosts won't bother them. Students who were also kicked out the school stayed at the field. "Ha...haaa. Ugh the sides of my stomach hurt so much." Ace tries to say as he and Deuce groan and grumble in pain.

"Ace, Deuce." A familiar voice spoke. "Ah, Prefect Roseheart!" The two huff out as they nod. Azul and Kalim stood next to Riddle, but Azul looks at the two with confusion. "Where is Prefect (Y/N)? Shouldn't you two be with her?" The prefect of Octavinelle points out.

The A-Deuce combo only shrug. "I think she got mixed up the crowed." Deuce says as he looks at the growing crowd of students. "How did you guys get put here?" Ace asks the three dorm leaders.

"We had gotten chased out by some ghosts that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Even though it was valuable time for the three of us to study together." Kalim responded, while Azul shot him tired glance. "Kalim. Shouldn't it be "valuable time where we teach you about studying."?" Riddle could only sigh and cross his arms. "We almost got Kalim to understand the question..!"

"When we stayed in class, a bunch of ghosts appeared. They chased us out while saying, "this will be the brides fitting room!"" Grim watched as more students came up to them. Telling the same tale. "Everyone who was kicked out from campus has already gathered around..!"

"It seems like the whole campus has been taken away by those ghosts." Deuce said rather calmly. Ace on the other hand was more shocked than calm. "Oi! Principal, what's going on!?"

Before Mr. Crowley could respond, Ortho decided to explain. "I'll be the one to explain. You see, yesterday..." Once the young Shroud told everyone of the events that occurred. Everyone went silent. The only person who spoke after Ortho, was Riddle.

"The ghost groom has been searching for his ideal princess. Then had chosen (Y/N) as his ideal bride... That's the idea, correct?" Riddle revised as his expression was oddly calm. "WHAT!!!!" The group of NRC boys all screamed in anger and fear, a lot of other expression as well.

"We need to save her!!" Ace says immediately after the video was shown. "What will happen to (Y/N) if she does marry the Ghost Groom?!" Deuce asks the principal with fret. Mr. Crowley casted his eyes downward, with a somber voice he said.

"If (Y/N) marries the ghost prince, that is the same meaning of signing a contract. Which will mean, once the wedding is over.. SHE WILL FOLLOW HER SOON-TO-BE-HUSBAND TO THE UNDERWORLD!!!" "EEEEHHH!!!" Everyone yelled out in shock.

Mr. Crowley continues: "I put my guard down because I never would of expected someone who meets the conditions of the prince and his ideal Princess would exist in this world." Headmaster Crowley said with dread in every word he spoke.

"(Y/N)... Is going to be a ghost..!?" Epel gasps out with fear. "We can't let that happen!" Jack gruffs out as he bared his fangs. Many others agreed at helping the female student from her impending doom.

"We need to come up with a plan then!" Ortho tells the group of fired-up teens. "How about we start talking with them? We can throw a party! I bet that the ghosts will definitely let (Y/N) go if we just explain the situation."

The young Al-Asim heir suggested to his fellow peers. Rook nods, agreeing with his classmates. "A truly splendid idea, Roi d'or." A slim smile crepts on Rooks lips, "though..." The huntsman drawls out, his eyes turn a bit narrow.

"Do you think you'll be able to persuade a groom who has been searching for his bride for so long?" Rook crossed his arms over his chest as he continues on. His voice hinting with amusement. "If I was in his place, I'd never let my beloved go."

Leona growls, "so our only option is to just beat those ghost into submission." Vil scoffed at Leona and his idea. "Have you forgotten that we all ran all the way out here because we couldn't do just that." The male model said sassily with a frown gracing his painted lips. "No matter what we did, we couldn't defeat all those ghosts."

The headmaster starts to speak, "they are truly a infuriating opponent to take on. We should avoid confrontation as much as possible." Lilia starts to ponder as Crowley squawked about. "Lord Sam is well versed in the ways of ghosts and things of a spiritual nature. Shall we go see what he has to say on the matter?"

"Lord Sam... Do you mean Sam from the student store?" Deuce questioned the old fae. Lilia hums, "I was acquainted with his great grandfather." Cater starts to laugh dryly. "I still can't tell when you're joking or when your being serious... Lilia."

"Then we must make haste to the student store!" The headmaster yells as he and the others rush to Sam's shop. As soon as the shop door closed, Sam greets them. "Yo, headmaster and little demons. Whay could you be looking for that brought you all here?"

Sam chuckles and shakes his head. "Kidding! I know you're looking for something to deal with that ghost groom, right?" Sam told the group of teens and headmaster. Riddle is perplexed by Sam and his words. "This speeds things up but it sounds like you knew we would end up here."

Sam starts to laugh once more. "My friends on the other side bring me all kinds of info." Soon Sam's voice quickly turns less cheerful. "But things are getting really dicey. Ghost are tied to this world by a really powerful "lingering attachment".

Sam explained more in depth on what he meant. How they still come back because of the "attachment". "And as long is it remains, they'll keep comin' back." Grim felt realization struck him like lightning. "That's why the ghost of Ramshackle keep coming back!"

"Bingo! Precisely. That's why ghosts are so hard to handle." Ortho asked how they can save (Y/N), saying there was no such item like that to get rid of the ghost permanently. Sam grins and says, "IN STOCK NOW!" Azul looks at Sam selection while Leona tsks.

"Groom and brides are especially quick to meet tragedy. So they turn into ghosts all the time." Sam then holds up a item, "to get rid of a ghost groom. You need the "ring of severance." Slide this ring onto the host's left finger while saying "I shall love you till death do us part." And it will forcibly send him to the other side."

"How could (Y/N) give this to him? She's not even here!" Vil said as he picks up the small ring. Crowley gasped as he remembers something about the ghost groom. "Hold on a moment, the ghost groom was a boy who loved a challenge."

"So if one of you asked for (Y/N)'s hand. He'll see it as a duel for her hand in marriage, you don't have to win. But you must be able to give her the ring and tell her what to say." Lilia giggles at the crows plan. "It'll be fun to watch the drama unfold by stealing someone's bride."

"We shall call this plan... "Operation, Lovely Bride To Never Be!"" The headmaster said confidently, "it's a bit long for a name." Ace mutters under his breath. "Now I must decide on who the grooms will be for his plan." Crowley exclaimed as the male students to crowd and shout. "I'll do it!" "Let me do it!" "As if!"

The headmaster started to sweat with nervousness stirring in him. The gleaming eyes of the students were scaring him! It was almost as if each student was ready to take a role as a groom by ANY means necessary. Which it seemed like the students were readying themselves for.

"Alright alright! Will do a vote! I will write down all of your names and put them in my hat. I'll choose four grooms for this operation. So that means four names will be drawn." Mr. Crowley says with a exasperated look on his face.

_________________________________________________________

(Y/N) sat in the far corner of the "fitting room." She held a blank expression as she looks at herself. She wore a beautiful wedding (gown/suit/ect) as her hair was spruced up and was placed into a (loose/ponytail/ect). A (white/gold/silver) tiara with a veil attached to it was on her head. (Y/N) wanted to rip the thing off her, but then the ghost would force the item back onto her head again.

Sighing and cursing under her breath. (Y/N) felt queasy, or maybe it was because she hadn't ate anything yet. This was all happening so fast! (Y/N) did not want to be married to this ghost groom. She hoped that her friends would find a way to get too her before the wedding started.

"Bleh..." The female utters as she looks at her bare feet. A knock was heard on the door as a soft "coming in" was heard. A slim ghost that wore a white suite appears in front of her. He was the nanny of the ghost groom.

"Come, my dear lady. Your fiance is waiting, he needs your help with decorations and would like your words on it." (Y/N) felt herself become stiff, but agrees. Playing along was her better chance of escaping her "wedding". "Of course," (Y/N) said politely as she walks with nanny ghost.

The two reach the cafeteria, now transformed with pretty decorations and tombstones. Along with dark blue flowers and white sheets cover each table. The nanny smiles at his prince with nostalgia. "It seems like only yesterday you were a small child. Trying to find follow your dream and find your dear princess. A dream you lost long ago with your life as well. What a cruel twist of fate." The nanny said as his voice started to crack.

"If only I had arrived at your room faster, I could of helped you escape..." The sweet prince smiles at his caretaker. "It is alright now, know need to bring up the past. Don't let all that stuff bring you down."

The young princes smile never faltered. "Besides, going through all that pain and sadness is what allowed me to meet (Y/N)!" His caretaker could feel his spirits lift at the princes words. "Oh prince Elias, you are always so courageous and strong."

(Y/N) could feel her heart cry at what she heard. She didn't know that... Breathing in a gulp of air, she slowly walks closer to the two. 'It's gonna be okay..' "You did a great job Elias." (Y/N) said as she gives him a small smile.

The ghost groom returns her smile tenfold as he looks at his bride. "My goodness, (Y/N)! You look just as beautiful as a.. Well beautiful than an' undead flower!" Elias said happily, (Y/N) giggles at his childish wording.

"Thanks." The caretaker gives the two a tender look. "You both are just perfect for one another. Prince Elias, we must get you ready before nightfall. You have to look your best for your princess."

The caretaker jests as he pushes the prince out of the cafeteria. "Wha- but I wanted to-!" "No sir, you must get ready. *Sigh* your still a stubborn little boy too." Elias waves at (Y/N), "I shall see you soon, my love!"

Once the two were gone, the ghost soldiers take (Y/N) back to the dressing room. Before the door closed, (Y/N) asks them something. "Can I please have something to eat? I haven't ate in a few hours."

To be continued...

(Okay, part three was supposed to be the end of the series. But that didn't happen, so I'll do my best to make sure part four is the last installment. I really wanna get to work for the Halloween event for Twst and a bunch of other stories I wanna put on this account! But I have to wait until I finish part four. Thanks for reading!)

[moonylantsovs]

Unlikely Match [ J.M ]

summary: You found yourself stumbling into Bellamy's tent at a really inconvenient moment, experiencing your first heartbreak, never expecting John Murphy to be the one to pick up the pieces.

pairings: john murphy x griffin!reader, slight bellamy blake x griffin!reader

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of sex

A/N: This is an au for maggie's (@slytherinbarnes) bellamy blake series called 'sub rosa'. It isn't necessary for you to read it before this but I'd recommend you to because it's amazing! Also, this was supposed to be longer but my phone deleted it the first time I wrote it so this is the rewritten version

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

You wouldn't call this a usual day at the delinquent camp, but it was close enough. Especially after everything you experienced in the past week. From a kid jumping off a cliff in front of you and making a decision to banish one of your own, to a mechanic flying down to Earth in a pod so you could contact The Ark and to John Murphy stumbling into camp, beaten up and carrying a disease you can't remember the exact details of the situation - that was always your sister's stronger side - but you can remember it spread like wildfire and it created complete chaos in camp.

But that was what the grounders wanted. To start killing your people off one by one from the inside. And John was the key. 

You didn't blame him for it of course, he wasn't aware that the grounders made him a walking contagious disease. But he was aware he gave them information about everything he knew about your camp so yeah, you were a little pissed about that.

Not as much as Bellamy was though, if you asked him he'd let John back into the woods without the care if the grounders captured him or not. You and your twin sister - Clarke Griffin - cared though and that was the only reason he was in camp right now and not running around the woods, alone.

You remembered Bellamy's words when you told him John wouldn't be a danger to camp. 

"Fine, he can stay. But he doesn't leave this camp or get a gun. He's your responsibility. So if he does anything, it's on you."

Truth is, Bellamy didn't mean what he said. He was just pissed John was staying after everything that happened with Charlotte. He knew it and you knew it too, so you brushed off his words and went back to camp, still choosing to keep a close eye on John during the next few days.

Now, you were making your way to Bellamy's tent. You weren't sure if you were going inside to apologize for how harsh your words towards him were during your fight or if you were coming to him as one leader to another so you could set things right and make the job of leading easier.

Deep down, you knew it was the first option but you didn't want to face your true feelings for him just yet. You wanted to at least wait until the war with the grounders was over before starting anything with him.

You stepped into the tent, calling his name, only to come face to face with a scene you never wanted to see again, it made you feel both nauseous and mad. 

Raven stopped putting her shirt on and her eyes widened at the sight of your figure standing at the entrance of the tent. You quickly put your hand over your chest, blocking out Bellamy's wide, guilt-written eyes.

"Sorry--" you stammered "I-- uh some people aren't back from hunting yet, so come find me when you're . . . done."

Ignoring Bellamy calling your name, you turned around and made your way past the delinquents that were still outside their tents and to the camp gate. The two kids that were guarding the gate were Miller and Starling, knew not to question why you - one of their leaders - was going outside camp, especially after seeing you already had a gun on you, and they let you out.

You needed to clear your head, the picture of Bellamy and Raven in the same bed half-naked was tattooed in your brain and you needed to get it out before you explode. You needed Clarke. But Clarke was still out with Finn and Myles, probably lost and you needed to find her but to do that you'd have to be able to look Bellamy in the eyes and you knew you wouldn't be able to do that.

A snap of a twig made you aim your gun - which you still didn't know how to shoot properly - at the bush the noise came from.

"Relax, Princess. I'm not planning on killing you anytime soon."

You recognized the voice belonged to John Murphy and immediately dropped the gun "What the hell, Murphy?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly "I uh-- saw you run out and then I saw Raven coming out of Bellamy's tent so I kinda connected the dots."

"And you were allowed out of camp why?"

"Because Miller saw it too and got worried so he let me out." John admitted, looking at you almost sheepishly.

You nodded in understanding and looked back down. The two of you never really interacted at a time he wasn't an asshole or tried to kill someone. He was the camp's psychopath and you were the invisible Griffin twin that hid in her parent's closet.

"Why wouldn't you kill me?" you asked hesitantly "I'm one of the reasons you got banished."

He nodded, rubbing his chin slightly "Yeah but you're also the reason I'm allowed to stay here. Plus telling Bellamy you'd keep an eye on me isn't a job anyone would take."

"How do you--"

"You're not very subtle." he interrupted with a chuckle "I saw you following me around camp with your eyes too many times for me to count."

Now it was your turn to smile sheepishly "Sorry."

"It's fine." John brushed it off with a shrug before noticing the sadness in your eyes and speaking up again "Bellamy's an idiot, you know that right?"

You scoffed at his words and shook your head only for him to speak up again "Well only an idiot would choose a one night stand over Y/N Griffin."

Both of you were surprised by the sincerity in his words. John felt a sudden feeling of vulnerability shoot through his body and he didn't like it one bit so he quickly plastered on his usual cocky smirk and added "I mean if you ever want to get back at him I'm right here."

You gave him a deadpan look "In your dreams, Murphy."

I mean yeah. He thought bluntly before shaking those thoughts away and grinning "Never said you need to sleep with me, Princess. There'd be a little payback both ways by making the king jealous. Just sayin'."

"Wouldn't you like that? you chuckled teasingly.

Yes he would. Because John Murphy could never get himself to figure out why someone as smart and as beautiful as you could fall for someone like Bellamy Blake. It's not like he's any better, but it just made him dislike the male even more.

"You know he doesn't deserve you, right?" John asked after a bit of surprisingly peaceful silence.

You just shrugged at his words, nor believing a word he said. But not because he had a habit of lying every time he opened his annoyingly smartass mouth. It was because you really couldn't see it. Raven was beautiful, the smartest person in camp, if not on Earth, and everything you didn't think you were.

Why would anyone think any different?

Noticing you didn't believe his words, John sighed and gave you a small smile "Well for your information, I'd pick you over anyone else any day."

"I thought the big bad Murphy didn't need anyone."

He stared at you for a few seconds with something unrecognizable in his eye and you were about to open your mouth to ask if there was something on your face when he beat you to it "Do you even know what my real name actually is?"

You narrowed your eyes in thought before a look of realization passed over your face "Wait 'Murphy' isn't your real name?"

"No. But it's last name and I go by it. My first name is John."

Before you could stop yourself you let out a snort - some would say it was completely unattractive but John thought it was adorable - followed by a chuckle as you repeated his name in disbelief "John?"

Said bot squinted his eyes at your amused, no longer heartbroken face, and asked "What?"

You shook your head with another chuckle "I never would have pegged you for a 'John'." 

"And I never would have pegged you for a girl that falls for someone like Bellamy Blake." 

He didn't even realize what he said until he did and was about to apologize, maybe begged you not to slap him but you laughed instead and nodded in amused "Touché."

And that's how you spent the rest of the night, sitting on a log right outside of camp and talking. Sharing stories about how each of you grew up and growing closer than you thought you ever would with someone like John Murphy.

But I guess there's a first time for everything.

[ripspaghet]

STUPID CUPID | 01

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | ongoing

→ pairing: jimin x reader

→ word count: 3,309

Prologue Summary; You and Jimin have been neighbors since you were four years old and hated each other ever since. It isn't until the two of you head off to college that fate, or rather, a certain baby with wings, decides its time to teach the two of you a lesson.

→ warnings/genre: bodyswap au, enemies to lovers, slight smut, eventual smut, slow burn

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It's not always in the dead of the night, or the middle of a downpour, that the people we love decide to leave us.

A splash of yellow paints across the canvas of a blue sky, wings fluttering against a cool breeze. Curious little things - butterflies that is - the way they flutter about and land on anything colored brightly, your windowsill for example.

The people we love often leave during ordinary days, just like this one.

Holding your breath you inch the tip of your index finger towards it. Of course, you know butterflies aren't meant to be touched. Though, what four year old is going to pass up something as pretty as this? As you itch closer it startles, but not from you. An abrupt slam of a door shakes your walls and you turn a cheek to the retreating insect. You stare at your bedroom door. Pushing yourself off the windowsill, you make your way over, feet brushing against the carpet floor, and out the door.

"How could you!" Another slam ricochets through the house and you flinch back, nearly retreating to your room, "How dare you!"

After that moment in life, you were no longer the type of person to let serendipity rule you - so, it's only natural that you ignore it when it falls into your lap - turn and walk away as if it'd never been there, to begin with.

A week before the Switch

It hadn't been long since the sun peeked out from the horizon, but the warm body next to you is what stirs you awake, limbs stretching and contorting. Going against your better judgment you let a heavy lid peek open, only to snap it shut again. 

"I saw that." An arm snakes around your shoulder and pulls you into a toned chest, his sun-kissed skin warm against yours.

"Then you should apologize for waking me up." You try wiggling out of his hold, but he follows you, nose nudging the crook of your neck while his slender fingers press into your hip bone. 

"Stay."

You sit up, "Let go," Pushing the blankets from your sweaty skin you realize you wouldn't be getting any more sleep with him beside you - the literal sun himself. 

His sleepy gaze follows you as you move towards your dresser drawers, "Come back. I'm sorry for waking you."

It takes only one glance to determine his motives, almond-shaped eyes flickering up and down your bare skin. He lays on his side, an elbow propping up his head, fingers combing through dark messy hair. You can't help but let your gaze wander down over the thin cotton sheets draped across his lower half. A smile ticks up the edge of your lips. More often than not, this guy has a way of forcing you to convey urges you push down. It's one of his many endearing qualities that annoy the living hell out of you.

"Come here."

Rolling your eyes you push your drawer shut again and make your way back to the bed. As soon as you slide back into his reach his hands are on you, tugging you to his lap as he rolls over. He looks up at you - eyes lowering to your exposed chest then waist, where his hands begin to wander up. When he reaches the swell of your breasts his fingertips graze along the supple skin, eliciting a sharp intake of air from you, "Say it."

Your eyes flutter open, annoyance coming full force, "That's a little cliché, don't you th-" His thumb and forefingers clamp down on your nipples and a submissive whine falls from your lips. 

"I said, " He hisses, lips pressing against your sternum, "say it."

You let out a sigh, "Hoseok, "

A satisfied smile lights up his face and he releases you, letting his hands fall to your thighs, "Good girl,"

You snort, trying to distract from your flushed cheeks, "What are you getting at?" You nudge the fingers that caress you, "Don't tell me you want more this early in the-"

"I do," He leans in, speaking between slow and teasing kisses that he places along your neck, "but," He sighs, "I do need to ask you something first."

"Ask me what?" You pull away.

"Ah, " He groans, "won't you let me soften you up first?" Hoseok has always been like this, avoidant of serious topics and more than active during the sexual or unimportant ones.

"No."

His eyes shift away from yours, finding your pastel sheets more interesting, "I don't want to ruin this."

"Oh, yeah?" You begin to pull away from him again, only his grip on you tightens.

"Alright," He hums, snaking his arms around your waist, "will you be mine then?"

You freeze against him, staring with wide, unmoving eyes, "Excuse me?" 

"I know, but I care about you. I even-"

"No." You shove his arms off to crawl out of the bed.

"You don't have to say it back. We can just-"

"No, we can't just. We had a deal. You were supposed to tell me if you ever developed feelings. I'm not the slightest bit interested in a relationship, or you for that matter."

He rolls his eyes as you put your clothes on, "I've always had feelings for you. I only said I didn't so I'd have a chance."

You freeze, turning to look back at him as he sits up, "Seriously?"

"I'm in love with you ____." He smiles as if he's just said the simplest thing in the world. Like it's easy for him to just give away everything he is to someone else - someone like you no less. A person who couldn't give a rat's ass for his so-called feelings.

You let out a dry laugh and turn towards the bathroom, "Love, huh?"

"Give me a chance to prove it and I'll have you falling for me in a week."

"I have no interest in love, Hoseok."

Hoseok clicks his tongue, "So cold, you won't even budge an inch?"

"What is it with men and not knowing what the word no means?" You pick up your toothbrush only to feel hands smooth over your hips and enclose you in a pair of strong arms. Where your skin meets him, a flame blooms, though you choose to ignore it to instead squeeze toothpaste onto your brush.

"Say you'll think about it."

You turn around to face him, your chest touching his, "If I say that, will you get out?"

He nods with satisfaction.

You place your toothbrush in your mouth and push him away from you, "I'll think about it."

"Good, " He smiles, "I'll be going overseas to visit my sister this weekend. By the time I get back, you'll have decided. Right?" 

"Sure," You feign interest and begin brushing your teeth.

"'Think about it', as if." You scoff, "I've told him a thousand times over that I'm not interested. After this, we're done. I've already blocked him."

"I mean, I can't blame the guy. You've been going at it for over a year now."

"Jin," You grab the finger his pointing at you accusingly, "he knows next to nothing about me."

He hums, taking his hand back, and passing you a paper bag that's filled with your favorite breakfast pastry, "I just saying, maybe you should give him an actual chance this time."

"Why?" You raise an eyebrow as you take the bag from him, "So he can prove me right?"

"You haven't been in a real relationship since high school. You can't act like you know what it's gonna be like."

"How much different can relationships be now? They're nothing but trouble. I fail to see how that can change just because I'm older." You furrow your brow while picking at your food.

"Relationships aren't trouble, they're work. You're just too lazy and cold hearted to see that."

You groan and take a drink from your coffee, "Whatever, as if you'd understand. You fall in love with everything with a pulse."

He nods at you, unashamed, "Love is the seasoning of life - to live without it is to be dead."

"You're so melodramatic."

"Alright, change of subject. I've been hearing whispers from people." Jin smiles brightly at you.

"Oh? And what's that? More gossip?"

"Gossip?" He scoffs, "I'll have you know that this is top-quality news I'm gathering day to day and I ought to be running an article for this school."

"Tch, " You take a bite out of your breakfast, willing yourself to ignore your elder.

"Anyway," He huffs dramatically, "as I was saying, this Valentine's Day there's going to be a big party at the Jjang house-"

"There's always a big party at Jjang."

He narrows his eyes at you, "If you'd let me finish I was going to say, they're making it so that everyone who shows up has to wear red and a mask, or you're not allowed in."

You swallow your food and cough, nearly choking, "Huh?"

"Yup, they finally got sick of all the hate the art department dishes out on them."

"Can you blame us?" The booth cushion dips beside you and you turn to see another one of your friends now leaning over you to steal a piece of your breakfast, "My grandmother could throw a better party than those guys and she's dead."

Jin chokes on his drink, "Jungkook! Your poor grandmother!"

You snort, "Hey, Kookie."

Jungkook gives you a goofy smile as he chews before turning back to Jin, "My grandma is alive and well, Hyung. It's only a metaphor."

"A metaphor?" Jin sputters, "Do you even know what a metaphor is?"

Jungkook shrugs and smiles when you pass him a bag of donut-holes, "Not exactly."

"I think what he said can be implied as a metaphor."

Jin's eyes cut over to you, "Yeah, well, you're as much of an idiot as he is, if not more so." A sack of donuts slaps against your chest and you catch it before it falls into your lap, "You two need to go before you're late to that practice again."

"Alright, but before that how'd it go with that girl Yuna?"

Jin's eyes snap back in your direction as he sucks in a sharp breath of air, only to choke on the egg sandwich he'd been chewing. Coughing profusely, he lets out a croak, "What the hell?"

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, watching as your friend wipes the egg off his face, which is more than you can say for Jungkook. He's cackling so hard that people in the cafe are starting to turn their heads.

"Honestly, I bought you both breakfast and now you're harassing me in public," Jin grumbles under his breath.

After a bit more "harassment" you and Jungkook leave Jin to head to your practice. As strange as it is for an art major you've had an obsession with sports since you could remember. So, you joined one of the few sports teams available at your university your freshman year. You also convinced Jungkook to join alongside you. Convincing him wasn't that difficult either, seeing as both of you are extremely competitive. All it took was a bit of taunting.

"Early as always you two." A hand pats your shoulder and you laugh nervously.

"Sorry, Irene."

"Whatever," She drops her sarcastic tone, replacing it with a cheerful laugh, "just hurry up and get changed. I swear you do on purpose."

You turn to look at her,"Do what?"

She glances at Jungkook, who's already left you behind to get changed, "Oh, nothing." She pats your shoulder again with what you might call a forced smile, "I wouldn't want things to be awkward."

You raise a brow as Irene leaves you be to start warm-ups, "Okay?"

Irene is the team captain and a good friend of yours. It's hard not to be her friend when she's so easy to get along with, although you've shared a few weird moments with her that suggests something to do with Jungkook. You've suspected for a while now that she may have a crush on your best friend, but being unsure you refuse to help her or get involved in any way. Jungkook hates when you meddle with his love life, which you learned from experience when you tried to set him up with a girl in your anatomy class. Long story short, Kookie was forced to turn that girl down and was upset with you for a week about it. Ever since you've refused to help any of the girls that have approached you to get to him.

Once in the dressing room, you quickly change clothes and lace up your shoes after tying your hair up.

Love just isn't something you should involve yourself with. Whether it's for yourself or your friends. Who knows, maybe bad luck with love runs in the family.

You leave the dressing room and approach where Jungkook waits for you on the court, "Warm ups?"

"Yeah," He nods, "Irene wants us to catch up with the others. So, she's probably going to give us more to do once everyone is finished. Let's get this done as fast as possible."

"Alright, full speed ahead." You playfully bounce on your toes a few times before making your way to the other side of the net across from Jungkook as he tosses the volleyball from hand to hand, "Show me what you got, virgin."

He laughs, "I think you have the wrong idea about me."

"Then you shouldn't have a problem proving it, right?"

"Just ask your sister."

"I don't have a-"

"Wait nine months."

"Huh?"

With that Jungkook tosses the ball up and jumps for it, landing a harsh slap on it that sends it hurtling through the air toward you - only, you're caught off guard when someone suddenly shouts at you and your head whips around. The ball slams into your chest, knocking the wind out of you with a dramatic 'oof'. And stood there, at the entrance of the gym, is a group of dance majors that you can't stop yourself from scowling at. Especially, when you notice him silently avoiding your eyes at the center of the group.

The one on his left laughs, having seen you land firmly on your ass, "Did you both see that?"

"Glad we came in late today. We could've missed it, right, Jimin?" The other nudges him.

He hums in response but doesn't look in your direction, just continues toward the dance studio.

Sixteen Years Before the Switch

"She's pretty isn't she, Jimin?"

The boy shifts his gaze before hiding behind his mother's leg.

"Why don't you go play? I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Can I?"

She nods with an encouraging smile, "She won't bite."

Jimin was only five at the time, you four and typically, when two children are neighbors they become friends, sometimes best friends for that matter, but that just wasn't the case with you and Jimin.

"Hi, I'm Jimin. Me, my mommy, and daddy live next door."

You didn't respond, just continued playing with your blue toy truck, quietly ignoring the boy next to you.

"I like the color of your truck."

You glanced over your shoulder at him, only to quickly look away again when you met his eyes. His presence was making you nervous, you only wanted him to go away. But, he didn't take your rushed gaze as a sign to give up and go away, if anything it only made him think to try harder and that's when he reached for your hand, "Let be friends-"

"Leave me alone!"

Sure, you didn't necessarily bite him, as his mother had suggested, but you sure as hell pushed him away and ran. Admittedly, it wasn't Jimin's fault. Moving to Busan had been the beginning of the end for you. Your Mom hoped that maybe Jimin and you would hit it off. After so much change in your lives, she wanted at least you to be happy, even if she wasn't. Though, the similar interest in sports and sweets made no difference. The bickering never ended between Jimin and you. Coaches were forced to put one of you on the bench, while the other played, or someone was getting hurt. If your families ever had dinner together, you fought over dessert.

"You'll only get hurt."

"Me being a girl makes no difference in my abilities to plow you into the ground, Jimin!" You throw the soccer ball at his face, landing a satisfying thwack.

You think Jimin grew to hate you for it. Not that it mattered at the time, since you disliked him first.

"But that's the last piece, Momma."

"Jimin is our guest ____. Don't be rude."

"But-"

"No buts."

You glared at Jimin across the table, wishing your legs were long enough to kick him from where you sat.

The older you got, the worse it became.

"What did you say?"

Your teammate scowls back at you, "I said, you're a girl and outta act like one."

"And who are you to say what a girl outta act like?" You shove him into the lockers just behind him and he yelps in surprise.

"Hey," 

You pause, head-turning to the left where the entrance to the hallway is.

"Don't you think you're being a bit reckless?"

Stepping back from your teammate, you sigh, "Great, just what I need."

Jimin has always been the popular type, loved by everyone for acting like someone he isn't. That's probably what annoyed you the most about him when you got older, he was never himself. He always lied about what he thought or how he felt to please others while acting completely different when no one else was around.

"Leave him alone and go to class, ____."

"Or what?" You laugh dryly, "You're talking as if I'm bullying this guy when he's the one who-"

"Didn't you hear me? Are you deaf?"

Your glare sharpens, "Oh, I heard you, Park."

Long story short, that was the first time you'd ever been suspended. Your mother was pissed, to say the least, and you quit the soccer team that year.

A week before the Switch

Jimin eyes you from the entrance of the gym, expressionless as his friends cut up on either side of him. You can't help the scowl that contorts your face, nor the tension that builds up in your shoulders. It's been a few months since you've seen him on campus and you'd almost forgotten about him, until now.

"You alright?"

You take Jungkook's hand and stand back up, "Fine." You dust off your bottom with a sigh. Another thing, none of your friends know about Jimin. Seeing as he is someone you wish you never knew, it makes sense that you avoid even the subject of him like the pledge.

"Let's start over, you hit this time." Jungkook passes you the ball then turns to head back under the net.

With a solid nod, you force yourself to relax, putting all your tension into your fingertips that now grip the ball.

Jimin just so happens to also have a love for the arts, which has lead to the two of you attending the same university - him being a dance major and you, art. Luckily, you rarely see each other since dance majors normally reside on the opposite side of campus. On the off chance, you do see him it's always because of volleyball practice or one of his friends, who just so happens to be an art major.

"____, earth to ____?"

"Sorry," You toss the ball up and slam your hand against it, sending it through the air and over the net.

"Nice," Jungkook bumps the ball back to you. You run for it, the feeling of eyes following you.

You have a sinking feeling that something super annoying is in the works.

.

.

.

To be tagged send an ask🏹💌

[capri-ramblings]

Yikes,I know there's bound to be questions but trust me, chapter 3 will answer most of them. Aha,I'm sorry if this chapter is kinda confusing at first,I'm not good at planning out thoughts or stories systemically,it kinda makes it harder for me to write whenever I try to. But here,the second chapter of Raptured! Thank you for reading! ( ꈍᴗꈍ) ♥️

[ R a p t u r e d ]

Chapter 2: Banter

In the moment Riddle had finished telling his brothers what conspired with their human captive, the first to speak up was Azul.

"They offered what?" His words were a mix of shock and amusement, gaze fixated on Riddle who seemed almost flustered from how red his cheeks were.

The red haired sighed, sending him a narrow eyed glare before crossing his arms.

"The head of their own brother"

"By their own hands?" Kalim asked aloud, his features scrunched up worryingly. "Isn't that bad? Why would anyone want to kill their own brother so suddenly?"

From the chaise across the room,Leona let out a scoff, lips upturned into a smirk.

"What are you? A five year old? If you give a herbivore the chance of freedom,they'd leave their entire fleet open to make sure they survive. Humans aren't so different."

"Indeed" Vil joined in with a smile of his own. "Humans are very fickle things, they live out their life struggling and as a result they stink of repulsion."

"They can barely even stand on their own.." Idia added thoughtfully and as the gazes of his brothers turned to him, the flames on his hair flickered and he looked away.

"Maybe the isolation's got to their head?"

Riddle let out a scoff, his lips upturned in a sneer almost too vicious to be formed on such a delicate looking face.

"The cottage they were in was secluded from the rest of the village,they were already a reclusive. Why should it bother them now?"

"Maybe Idia has a point" Kalim interjected then "Before they were on their own by choice...and they weren't exactly trapped in a tower either"

"It's all the same" Leona snapped " Damn herbivores will always be too fragile."

"Though, our soft-shelled brothers have a sound reason" Vil's lips curled in an effortless smile,his ever sharp gaze glinting like jewels.

"At this rate our small hare is going to die before the homage from her brother, and that makes all of this pointless."

The room went silent then. Each males having their own thoughts wrapped around the situation.

When they came to a decision to face the hunter who killed their family beast, he was nowhere to be seen and left tending to his cottage was none other than their captive human, a young sibling unaware of what their fool brother had committed. They opted it was easier to simply kidnap them and have their brother come looking since neither one of them wanted to wait around. There was also the fact that the death of the beast had affected their Mother's health greatly, and all seven brothers fumed with rage.

"Our methods doesn't matter anymore" Riddle spoke up, "What's done is done. We can't exactly just put them back where we found them."

"I agree" Azul said "Though if the human dies in our care now, when we're fully able to change their situation, I fear the price of that loss would be great."

"What? Are the humans going to chase us around with pitchforks?" Leona sneered,his sharp fangs visible as he leaned back into the chaste. "You saw how further in their cottage was, chances are the herbivore doesn't even go down to the village often enough for people to notice them missing."

"They can't die." Idia drawled the words out this time,his gaze sharp and harsh as he stared down Leona who all but grinned at his brother.

"Why? Because you like them?" The laugh that barked out from Leona was cruel and Idia flinched.

"Go ahead and save the poor herbivore then,Prince Idia of the lands of burrowed moles. You think they'd ever look at you fondly?"

"Enough." Riddle came between the fight with his own ire and before he sent a glare towards Leona, he let Idia catch the solace in his.

The situation was getting worst. They needed a decision quick.

"You're not a five year old as well,Leona, so keep that tongue of yours tamed"

"What are you? Suddenly playing the role of the Eldest when you can't even reach his height?" Leona scrutinized Riddle with an aggression that seemed ready to claw him in the face, but Riddle kept his own spite and promptly choose to ignore his brother.

Instead,he turned to Azul.

"The hunter should've came back and see his sibling gone, you even sent those eels of yours to make sure he got the hints. Why hasn't he made a single move? It's been two months."

"Maybe he's forgetful?" Kalim chipped in, eyes glowing. Riddle wanted to tap the side of his face and gently tell him to shut up but Vil patted his head instead.

"A forgetful hunter managing to kill a wild beast is unlikely, mein bruder"

Azul crossed his arms,gaze narrowing.

"They've sent word that they have information regarding our human and the whereabouts of their brother"

"And?" Vil prompted.

"I told them to come meet us as soon as they can, which shouldn't be long."

The moment those words were uttered, a dull thud came from the would-be-entrance of the tower, and a familiar voice calling out.

"My Princes! Open the door please!" The urgency of the voice had all the present Princes turning their head, though the one who seemed genuinely surprised and concerned was Kalim.

"That voice..." He said, turning to Azul "Is that who I think it is?"

Azul's lips curled into a knowing smile and with a flick of his fingers, the sound of a door being swung opened then slammed shut could be heard within the tower itself,followed by light rapid footsteps approaching them.

Out of breath and desperately panting, a young girl made a hasty bow as she came before the Princes, though the way her legs slightly trembled suggested that she was near collapsing.

"It is her!" Kalim's eyes grew wide with familiarity, the worry in his voice replaced with joy as he came up to place his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"The last time I saw you, you were still learning how to walk!" Kalim's loud voice seemed to make her flinch but the girl met his gaze with warmth before she bowed her head again.

"Pleasure to meet you again,Prince Kalim." She's heard stories of him, the Prince Fae known to give out bits of his treasures to those who come wishing at his well. It seemed odd to act as if she's known him, but she knew better than to put logic before courtesy. He was one of the seven Princes after all. Acting too smart with them was a fool's mistake.

Before Kalim could say anything else, Azul stepped forward and the girl promptly met his side with a suddenly serious demeanor.

"I'd ask you for the information I had you fetch but I wonder why you were running in the first place?"

The girl laughed dryly if not nervously.

"Floyd wanted to see who could win in a race in getting here,your Highness."

Azul frowned, internally sighing.

"Why on Earth did you agree to that?"

Again, the girl laughed. "He terrifies me,my Prince."

Riddle couldn't place where he's met her, but hearing her words had him internally sympathising her. Azul's leeches were a pair he'd gladly avoid for eternity as well.

"So,you got a changeling to be at your beck and call as well,Azul?" Vil sounded amused as he turned to Azul, but the degrading glance he gave the girl bellied the smile coyly sitting on his lips then.

"She's indebted to us anyway" Azul stated simply "Why not put her to work?"

His gaze returned to the girl.

"What do you have about our human then?"

It took a full ten minutes for the young changeling to inform them of what she's managed to compile on their human and hunter. Turns out they aren't related by blood but by marriage. Apparently most of the villagers knew of the hunter but rarely saw the younger sibling as they took more liking in staying indoors. There was also talk that their relationship with one another was never close and answered Riddle's question as to why he hadn't showed up yet.

"So, he's just going to leave his sibling at our mercy?" Kalim asked,he had his expression scrunched up with worry and pity again but Leona shared none of it and only growled with distaste.

"There won't be mercy if they're left with us a second longer"

Riddle caught the flicker of Idia's flames and instantly reacted.

"Threaten to murder our captive one more time and I'll have your head,Leona."

"Hah, you're trying to scare me,Riddle?" Leona sneered,fangs glistening with malice. He's been irritated by the whole situation since the beginning. Taking in a human in hopes that another would appear to save them, it was all a damn fairytale. Leona knew humans were selfish, his brothers should've had that piece of common sense drilled into their heads as well. No one was going to play hero for their captive.

Riddle gritted his teeth and again instead of lashing out senselessly, he swirled around to face the changeling. Every bit of his anger flaring in his grey gaze.

"Where's the hunter now?" He asked,though it sounded painfully like a death threat.

The changeling bowed her head.

"He's at the human King's palace,Prince Riddle. King Aothor ...of Nostorne"

The words sent the entire room tilting, and Riddle would've gripped her by her neck if Azul hadn't stepped forward.

"King? Since when did the humans have a King?" The last time they came to the world,their mother's shrine was built almost everywhere to acknowledge her ruling. Had times changed so drastically since their absence?

"Yes. It's been this way for years now. A dukedom raised after Her Most Divine's departure from the human realm and ever since then a lineage of human nobles have taken the throne as the Human ruler."

"My, how futuristic, and here we were in the guise that we still sat on the top of their world" Vil was laughing but his words cut into the tension of the room like a blade coated in venom and the changeling girl shifted uncomfortably.

"It seems like the order of the slaughtering was made by him and ultimately fulfilled by the hunter. His name is Cyril and he's being celebrated by the King for his bravery."

Leona heaved a heavy sigh,leaning once more into his chaise. He looked ready to fall into a deep slumber already but his irritation kept him awake.

"So,we have information. Now what's the plan?"

***

Jade and Floyd,two of Azul's trusted companions came into the situation while the Princes were sorting out their thoughts and opinions (Which all greatly contradict one another) and brought word that their hunter had refused to save their sibling in a conversation Jade overheard him had with another hunter right before he was called on by the King.

"He said he knew of the Fae's trick and that by taking something of theirs as his own, he'd gladly give anything they took from him as compensation." Jade explained in his usual matter-of-fact tone,his mismatched gaze still and knowing.

Riddle clicked his tongue, brows furrowing. Idia's was the most sympathetic along with Kalim while Leona and Vil seemed ready to send a fleet of their army to storm into the human villages.

"I'm not really surprised though" Floyd spoke up lazily "He seems like a guy who'd do that kind of thing anyways"

"But now the Princes are stuck with keeping a human captive in their care", Boe,the young changeling from earlier, pointed out grimly.

"What if we sent you to negotiate with him in our stead?" Idia suggested which earned a rather hasty look from the girl.

"Human royals don't take too kindly to my kind,Prince Idia. I doubt he'd even let me enter"

Leona let out a menacing growl. One that reverberated through the tower walls.

"This is going nowhere. Riddle, go up to that damn herbivore and have them beg their brother come and pay his homage so we can give them back."

Riddle frowned.

"You heard the changeling,Leona. If their relationship with their brother is as bad as we've heard, do you really think they'd beg for him to come save them?"

"Couldn't you talk some sense in them?" Azul had eyes turning once more to the young changeling who all but reluctantly slumped her shoulders.

"I don't see how me being the one talking will get them to cooperate..."

"Clamshell,you should at least try,right?" Floyd's smile was sickly sweet and when he attempted to sling his arm over her shoulders, she avoided the outcome by shifting close to Jade.

"What would you want me to say to them?"

"The offer they gave" Riddle said "Have them elaborate more on that. I'm not going into a deal without knowing why it was proposed in the first place."

There was hesitation in her eyes but it was swiftly changed to a silent resolve as she nodded her head.

"I'll see what I can do."

[deviant3lover]

OOOOOOOO! You writing for other charaters now? Cuz, here are some bois I'd like to see your take on! Pick and choose who you'd please: Zombieman, Child Emperor, Tatsumkai, Sonic, Flashy Flash, Mumen Rider, King and, (one I'd really like to see) Sweet Mask. Thanks, and happy early birthday!

Thank you~! And lmao, my birthday was like, a month ago now;; I swear my attention span is hella weak- I see a shiny thing and I 

Z I P 

Outta my work and go over to look at it for the next 3 days.

And anon… dear anon…

I will do ALL OF THEM.

MUMEN RIDER:

If I’m being honest? I honestly hated him when he was first introduced.

He cycled as fast as he could to confront the Paradisers, had a moment where he parked his bike, (a bit awkward, but I faintly enjoyed the sight) pulled off a show of confidence that implied that he knew the gravity of the situation and has a way of dealing with it effectively (the common subversive tactic: weak looking character has tremendous strength) and then got DECKED ON with one hit, showing that it was just shallow hot air he couldn’t back up.

And then he got credit for the work that Saitama did. (Albeit unintentionally.)

Not… the greatest first impression. I thought he was an overconfident guy who was playing hero, uncomprehending of the danger that he puts himself in for the sake of living in an idealised fantasy that since he’s the protagonist, since he’s the one with determination and a heart of gold, it’ll all work out. Him cycling towards the Sea King at full throttle, with him apparently not taking the hint from the Paradisers, drove that belief home to me even more.

(Wow, I sound like Garou here. :o…)

And then he launched into his spiel.

How he felt like he wasn’t good enough to take the promotion, how he knows, better than anyone, that he’s weak. That yes, he might not win- might even get killed for his fruitless efforts for it, but what matters is that he tries. Not because he feels like he can pull it off eventually, or that the monsters will submit to how ~brave~ he is, but because it’s just important to try in the face of overwhelming odds, if it means that others have a slightly better chance of surviving because of it. Willing to die just so others won’t, even when you’re dismissed as a weakling both in the present and after death.

And that made me doubt about what I thought of him.

It wasn’t until I saw him trying to convince TTM to leave Garou alone, trying to intervene when Garou attacked him, and getting his face smashed repeatedly into the concrete sidewalk for his efforts by the same man he tried to defend, that I was utterly convinced that Mumen was genuinely heroic.

This may be a little dark, but I have a feeling that Mumen’s sense of justice doesn’t entirely stem from his selfless nature, but also from feelings of worthlessness. That he goes above and beyond to be a hardworking hero because he feels he has no worth if he dares do otherwise. The Christmas extra chapter in the manga sort of sparked this belief for me. If Mumen’s sense of justice was purely selfless, he’d mention other options (e.g. Friends inviting him out, new bistro downtown, setting up a mini Christmas tree and treating himself to a nice present) and maybe consider injecting some time for himself for them, if not on Christmas day, then the day before or after. Instead, he says with a smile, that he’ll be patrolling the streets for danger with no allusion to his personal life. And that lingering suspicion still sticks to me to this day.

CHILD EMPEROR:

First impression? I didn’t think too much of him, because I didn’t have much reason to. Very little screen time in the early manga/anime didn’t get me to form much of an attachment or investment in his character.

But later on? I like him! A kid prodigy, but it’s made clear time and time again that he still has room to improve, and I’ve always been a big fan of personal growth and developing self-reflection/awareness in stories. The fact that he wasn’t a stuck-up brat who thought he knew everything, and (taking into account that he’s literally 10 years old) still had a great deal of growth ahead of him in terms of the technological and the personal…

Yeah. I’m definitely holding out my hope for seeing a side story dedicated to him.

If I had the luck to choose the idea for the plot, I would love to see what sparked his love for technology, his mishaps and successes and so-so’s when it came to developing his skills and his gadgets. I want to be able to see the people around him reacting with awe and confusion over this kid hurriedly drawing up complex diagrams on a chalkboard board for different ideas before they leave his mind, which gadgets he’s put the most work in, the most time on, and is proud of, and finally; if he had a snobby phase and is ashamed of it. Bonus points if he took a break from his work to read up on how to be more like a mature adult so that older people will take him more seriously outside of being an inventor.

SONIC:

I, uh… honestly don’t think too much of him? He never really stuck with me.

Conversely… I do, however, like the few times we get the spotlight shined on him. He’s a badass to watch, and I laughed and cringed when the infamous ‘accidental punch’ scene came up on my screen. Considering the fact that I watched the anime first before the manga, I wasn’t anticipating it at all.

Which makes me glad in this case! The animated scene feels way more impactful and memorable than the manga version. I felt the build up and the rapidly increasing dread rise in me as I saw Saitama’s fist slowly punch Sonic’s unmentionables. Animating the- ahem- impact of his punch done me in and seared that scene into my mind.

Hmm… I feel like Sonic’s a more rebellious version of Flash, whilst also having been influenced by him. The both of them enjoy taking care of themselves in more luxurious ways, with their glossy hair and refusal to be filthy or rough in any way (e.g. Flash taking good care of his hair in the shower, Sonic opting to cook the monster cells and serve them tastefully before eating them) but I feel like Sonic likes rebelling more outwardly towards how he’s been trained and conditioned as a ninja compared to Flash. He just gives off that vibe~

Expanding on that, I feel like he’s more self-reflective and subtle in his thoughts. Flash is sort of absorbed in his own business and narrow range of experiences (not that I’m blaming him: he’s a busy man) while Sonic is more rooted to reality, and is a little more mellowed out to show for it. In the audio CDs, he gains a new understanding of what Saitama is forced to go through and respects him more as a person than just a milestone to beat, and he overcomes his trauma of Saitama ‘punching him’ by accepting what happened and simply keeping the possibility of it happening again in mind; not to torture himself or blame himself for being ‘weak,’ but to acknowledge what he’s fearful of and accepting it, allowing him to move on.

FLASHY FLASH:

I was gunning hard for him to be a cold-blooded woman assassin who wants to look elegant and deadly at the same time. Femme fatale, minus the seduction.

I was a little disappointed when he turned out to be a guy, and more so when he riled up Metal Bat with his insults while telling them to cut it out (counter intuitive, but it wouldn’t have been so bad if I wanted to see that. But I didn’t want to see it so lmao-) so, apart from his cool character design, I was a little turned off in my investment in him.

I was hoping that they kept the name ‘Lightspeed Flash’ instead of Flashy Flash. Yes, I know that they’re pretty much the same in terms of meaning, but the former just sounds more dignified. Considering he’s a man who takes himself seriously in both his work and appearance, I feel like it’s more in character for him to suggest a hero name that sounds more impressive, but still shows that sort of silliness underneath when you look closely.

He gained back some of my respect for him when he directly told Tatsumaki off for stealing his kill and talking down on him. That takes mad guts and I was wondering which of the heroes are willing to risk a serious fight with her to prove that they’re not one to be trifled with.

(Metal Bat was a little different in that regard: at the time, I just saw him as another affectionate parody of the delinquent trope. Nice contrast to the rest of the older, calmer heroes, but a little generic.)

Flashy Flash… yeah. I feel like he’s willfully disconnected himself from the world both emotionally and socially. Not because he’s afraid, but because he thinks it’s useless. He’s already seen the worst of it thanks to his upbringing, so there’s no point in putting in effort to go out and explore just to discover what else is wrong with the world.

I also think that, like Tatsumaki, he feels more than competent on his own and believes doesn’t need any outside help or interference. Hence, anyone who doesn’t meet his personal standards immediately has their opinions and suggestions of him dismissed or not truly considered with respect. He thinks he knows what’s best, even when there’s opinions screaming that he’s not, because he doesn’t respect others that way.

KING:

OOF- Okay, I was actually pretty ambivalent about him.

I thought he was cool when he intimidated the Tongue monster into submission, then thought he was an egotistical, vain hero when confronted by the G4 monster, then thought he was a pitiful, cowardly man forced to flee out of necessity, and then thought he was an endearing puppy when he realized just who Saitama is to him.

And. Hm.

King is… a very genuine man. I like him. Like Mumen Rider, he’s willing to put himself on the line to protect others. What makes me a little conflicted is if he’s more, the same, or less heroic than Mumen.

More: He has absolutely nothing to defend himself with in terms of physical skills or strength. His luck is his only maxed out stat in the hero game he’s obliged to play, and he’d rather be left alone, but he still puts his life on the line to help others, even when he’s scared witless.

Less: He does have his awe inspiring, fear inducing reputation that can neutralise the monster threats more often than not, and is aware of this, using it to his advantage. So maybe he’s a little less courageous since he knows it will work in his favour more often than not.

My take on him…  King strikes me as a good man. In a normal, monsterless world, he won’t be the kind who’ll fearlessly charge into battle against terrorists, or pull off any awe inspiring feats by himself by passing life saving legislations; this man isn’t interested in grand scale heroics and would rather support those who are interested and are good at it.

No, King strikes me as a man who wants to keep to himself and offer his sincere help to those who manages to become good friends with this shy man. He may be quaking in his boots at imminent danger, but he’ll still try to stand up for what’s right when someone else is being taken advantage of, even if he’s not entirely sure of what he’s doing.

AMAI MASK:

(RECENT WEBCOMIC SPOILERS!!)

I never cared much for Amai until now.

I can’t imagine anything more devastating than working yourself down to the bone to protect and give people hope, to cultivate others into what it means to be a true hero, only to realize the people you worked so hard for was just as hideous as you used to be. This man worked so hard, and him protecting the people he cared about wasn’t enough to deter them from reacting with horror and disgust. It wasn’t even five minutes until the first of his ungrateful ‘fans’ tried stoning him.

Thank God Saitama intervened… the look on his face after he was called a cool guy was both ugly cute and heart wrenching. He may have been called dreamy or inspirational by the adoring masses, but being broken down to the very thing that you’ve been ashamed and fearful of your entire life, and still having someone who sees you as someone worthwhile must’ve meant the world to Amai. He’s a monster, yes, but he kept a vice grip on his morals and never let them go, even when his grip on them was weakening with every breath he took.

I also liked the way that ONE written his rise to fame. The build-up and anticipation surrounding how he looked behind the mask, Amai himself being bitter over the vanity of the public, learning to accept it, and gradually became obsessed with embodying the symbol of justice- this time, where everyone can see it. But it wasn’t on his own terms, no; instead of being seen as the ugly but virtuous man before, he has to present himself as a handsome idol, instead of being loved and revered for who he truly is; ugly and all. That it’s not a defect.

And I felt pity for him when I realized that’s what happened.

My opinion and takes (interpretations) of him? He’s interesting, to put it lightly.

If I think more on it, I feel like he’s losing himself to his delusions. It’s ironic: someone focusing on saving the hearts of others, yet all they can see is themselves.

True to the series, Amai reminds me of Genos. Of what Genos would’ve turned out to be if he was kept alone with no one he can truly connect with. No one who can remind him of the sweeter things in life that don’t matter. No one you have a personal, deep connection with to return home to.

Amai strikes me as a man who’s so focused on eliminating evil that he sees it everywhere, no matter how small or large it is, or if it even exists. If someone doesn’t live up to his standards or sees what he sees, he immediately has this sort of insurmountable, unseen distance from them that can’t be easily crossed.

In all honesty, I’m intrigued and worried for him. Part of my indulgent ideas for him is that he’s slowly starting to hallucinate and had started monsterize from the inside for a long, long while, and it’s only by the Association’s dependence on him and his adoring fans that keeps preserving the man that he used to be when he was purely heroic, but hideous. And even then, it’s not enough.

I feel like he’s painted himself in a corner where he feels it’s too late to try and get help for his condition, instead desperately searching for someone who can take his place. He knows how important a symbol is, and if he had the choice, would keep it up as long as he lives, but his passion for it isn’t enough to drive off what he’s becoming.

And he was right.

ZOMBIEMAN:

I may have done Zombieman already, but I also realise that I’ve missed out on some things that I wanted to include~

In contrast to Amai, Zombieman strikes me as the type of guy who’s a sort of ‘Frankenstein’s Monster’ character. Unlike the book character, Zombieman is in a society that accepts, reveres, and adores him for all he does despite his questionable history and to what degree he is ‘human.’ He doesn’t seem to believe that what he is makes up for who he is, and anyone who thinks otherwise will earn his ire; but again, like Frankenstein’s monster, he knows it’s a part of him, and that it’s still a source of discomfort for him. He needs to get that skeleton out of his closet for him to truly enjoy life.

TATSUMAKI:

Honestly, I didn’t notice too much of her character until much, much later in the manga. Prior to that, I admired her ability to take care of the worst threats by herself. Soloist heroes and protagonists were always a soft spot of mine: learning to handle the worst of what life had to throw at you and being good at it, but not necessarily good at taking care of your emotional and mental wellbeing, confiding in others about that, and showing that it’s okay to be vulnerable or lost or flawed, and endeavoring to fix that?

Yesss. Good trope. One of my favorites.

So, what finally caught my attention from her?

Her fight with Psykos.

I was sort of seething with the way Psykos was chilling smugly in her underground lair. Her plan was smart, but the way she was so self-assured and the way she thinks she’s above others; human and monster alike, sipping wine all the while?

That irritated me a lot.

So, to see Tatsumaki rip her from her cozy room and into the fray of the battle, coercing her into spilling intel by twisting her limbs and body each and every way to force it out, and striking fear into her heart with that sadistic, predatory smile of hers?

I loved it. Whoo!

As for takes… I’m not sure if I have any on her to be honest! At least, not one that isn’t already canon. She believes that you shouldn’t rely on others to become strong, or to save you, and has lived up to that idea by herself. She can back up her words and I admire that.

I do feel a little sorry for her, considering what she’s gone through. As much as I agree with her, sometimes she can take it too far.

I was a little irked by her showing little to no concern for shielding her team mates from getting crushed underneath the rubble of a building, with Darkshine stepping in to protect them, but I suppose she had a point; you have to take care of yourself on the battlefield.

Still; her total lack of concern left me a little perturbed.

This was curbed a bit by her refusing to uproot the association until she knew Tareo was safe; I feel like that added more character to her in the manga, as opposed to the webcomic.

In conclusion: All of these characters are good. UoU! Murata and One are great writers, and they made them feel fleshed out and distinct from each other in almost every way possible whilst keeping them believable. And I love them for it. :3

[littlemessyjessi]

“Carnivore”: A Dracula Story: Plus Size Reader: Chapter 2

BBC/ Netflix Dracula  Imagine

Warning:  Mentions of cannibalism, violence kink and taxidermy.  Just a warning. Enjoy.

I had never been what I would call a morning person.

Unless by morning you meant 12 a.m.

If you meant being active when everyone else was asleep in bed then yeah, sure- I was a morning person.

But when the birds started to chirp and the people began to busy about... I. Was. Out.

Which was exactly why I was so extremely grateful to my butcher who stayed open to the wonderfully spry hour of eleven at night.

Bless his soul.

Joe was honestly a saint at times and I had no problem giving him my business.

I always peeled some off the top of our kills to bring home to my meat freezers but for my main diet...I needed a butcher and that was just that.

I arrived there at precisely 9 pm and I was greeted with a smile as I came through the door.

"Ah, my favorite creature of the night!" came the rather chipper voice of Joe.

I glanced up at him, "Evening, Joe."

"I have your usual ready." he said.  "It's just in the back."

"Sounds wonderful." I said dragging the large rolling cooler I'd brought with me to the front and wheeling it over to him.

"You're the only woman I know who actually comes in here with an ice chest.  Weekly.  Sometimes twice a week." he teased.

"Yeah, well, I'm a special breed." I said taking out the cash and handing it to him.

It was always the same and I paid him in cash...with a good tip.

Say what you will but tipping well made all the difference with people.

"I have some exotic game for you as well." I said. "It's in there before you fill it up."

"Keep your money then." he said with a smile.  "We'll call it a deal."

"Joe." I said with a pointed look. "I bring you my business because I want to and I bring the exotic meat because  A.) I know you can appreciate such a thing and B.) I adore the service.  So please don't insult me and just accept the gift and keep the money. Besides, last I heard you had a new baby on the way."

"For a vampire, you're awfully nice." he winked.

"What makes you think I'm a vampire?" I asked lifting a brow at him in question.

He just winked, "Oh, that's right it's werewolves that consume human flesh."

I stared at him and for a moment I had a mild panic attack.

Did he know?

How did he know?

He burst into laughter a second laughter, "I'm only joking!  Or was a spot on about your extracurricular activites?"

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"According to Marcus, you seemed to have quite the fondness for biting." he said speaking of a mutual friend that I may or may not have toyed with a few times.

Purely sexual of course.

Although, the man was a fine specimen and should I ever choose to murder him...he would make excellent steaks amongst other things.

"And how would you know such things?" I asked.

"He and Dylan are close." he said with a knowing smirk.

"Yes, well perhaps you and your husband should stay out of my 'extracurriculars' as you call them." I said, half joking, half dead serious.

Though in truth, Joe never took anything I said like that to heart.

I was what he like to call "Dangerously Adorable".

I abhored the term but it was endearing affectionate in a way, I suppose.

"Just fetch my meat, butcher boy." I said. "Before I decided to eat you."

"Ooooh, kinky." he teased. "I could probably convince Dylan to threeway. Neither of us have been with a woman in a long time."

I threw my pen at him to make him move and the sound of his laughter could be heard as he ventured into the back.

Moments later he emerged with my cooler and a basket on top.

"What's this?" I asked lifting a brow at the little brown thing. "Do I look like Little Red Riding Hood to you?"

"Yes sometimes you do give me that vibe." he laughed. "But in that basket are two special things for you.  One is a considerable amount of duck eggs and a jar of duck fat.  They're from my mother.  She really appreciated the package you sent her when she was sick.  I know you like to pretend you a cold heartless-"

"Stop talking, you'll ruin my reputation." I said with an unconvincing glare.

"Anyway, she wanted to say thank you." he said.

I made quick work of bidding him goodbye and got out of there.

He was one of the humans that I could tolerate being around for more than a little while...even if he was insufferable at times.

As I walked the streets with the basket on my arm and the cooler rolling behind me I thought of how conflicted I was with the nightlife of the city.

On the one hand, the convenience of having some establishments staying open all hours of the night was incredibly useful.

On the other, it usually meant conversation and I just had no patience for it sometimes.

Which is why it's so ironically cruel that the universe would put me in the path of someone who loved company.

"Hey, what's up, mami?"

I cut my eyes to the left to glare at the little heathen who looked me up and down.

Probably no older than twenty five.

A little younger than I would've liked and not really my type but attractive enough for me to toy with and end my boredom.

And certainly enough to make a meal out of it.

But was he awful enough to eat?

Was he some punk who just like to catcall?

As disgusting as it was .... did he have other motives?

"Darling, there you are!" entered a new, richly accented voice that I was unaccustomed to. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

I turned in time to see a man who was every BIT my type.

Older and classically handsome.

Like an old Hollywood movie star.

Tall and strong with years of aged muscle.

Not the roid rage muscles that the youth were so fascinated with today.

I likened that to the sensation of chewing tire threads.

No...this man...

This man was nothing short of delectable.

And damn him for being a knight in shining armor.

I so would have enjoyed feasting on his flesh.

"Hello, Darling..." I said slowly as he came closer to me and wrapped me in his embraced.

He unusually cool to the touch, not that I minded since I absolutely detested the sensation of being hot and sweaty.

He offered the young man a 'friendly' smile that seemed to say 'back off' behind the mask of politeness and the kid ran off.

"Thank you..." I said pulling away from the man.  "That was very kind of you."

"No problem." he said. "I fear the boy might not have had the purest plans for you in mind."

"And you would know this how?" I asked curiously.

"Because I have been a young man near a beautiful woman before." he smirked.

"So lust justifies rape to you then?" I countered.

"No." he said. "But it can cloud the mind and produce a level of stupidity. He might not have attempted to force himself upon you but he definitely would've touched without your permission."

"As you did when you took me in your arms?" I asked pointedly.

"That's different." he laughed a bit, seemingly shocked by the cheek of it all.

"How? Because you chose to play the Knight in Shining Armor?" I challenged. "Perhaps I was playing Little Red and I was looking for a Big Bad Wolf to eat me up after all."

"Well you would fit the bill. A tantalizing tart with a basket and all." he said, a slight air of irritation oozing from him beneath the mask of charm. "I'm sorry if I have offended you. I only meant-."

"I'm not offended." I cut him off. "I'm just a massive bitch and not much of a people person."

His handsome face pulled up into a grin and he laughed heartily.

"You are a refreshing creature aren't you?" he said.

"You have no idea." I said.  "Good night, sir."

"Dracula." he said extending his hand.

I lifted an eyebrow at him momentarily before leaning forward and whispering my name into his ear before placing a small kiss to his cheek.

"Good night, Dracula." I said.  "Now I must be off before the Big Bad Wolf comes back."

"Perhaps it's the wolf that chased the young pup away." he challenged.

I smirked, "Well, then, Mr. Wolf. If you're clever and hungry enough, you shouldn't have a problem tracking me down then."

I realized that those words were dangerous.

They were provacative and even luring to a stalker.

He could've easily been a psychopath.

But what did I care?

I could either have some fun with him and if he bid me harm....I'd simply have him for breakfast in the morning.

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

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Love, Kenny

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Movie Night (ft. Cas's t-shirt)

THANK YOU for the ask, Dear Anon! I'm very flattered that you enjoyed the last one, and hope this meets your expectations! I WISH I could tag you in this, but you're on anon so.. Anyways, I went for Tuesday movie night idea, and clubbed it with a 'cute t-shirt prompt' I received and it got long AF but please leave a comment if you read and like!

*

"Ahh," Dean let out a perfect sound of exhaustion meeting the plush comfort of his couch. "It's finally Tuesday."

Sam snorted from the side, because his relationship with tuesdays had been kind of a love-hate. Not that Dean ever took him seriously - he doesn't blame his brother, really, because he wouldn't believe Dean either if he told him 'a piano crushed you to death' or any of those other ridiculous ways in which he'd died.

"If you like movie nights that much," Jack added, from the side - he was settled in one of the big chairs, looking more like a kid than he usually did. "Why don't we watch movies on other nights, too?"

Sam leaped to answer, ever ready to squeeze in a lesson for the nephilim. Good values needed to be a part of the upbringing. Children need to be taught by example. "There's an analogy we can use for this, Jack. Say, uh, Dean loves his birthday very much." Dean frowned at his brother. "Because of the pie, and the gifts, and all the beer." Dean shrugged. "So, he wishes on his birthday candles that everyday be his birthday!" Sam paused, and Dean wondered why he spoke as if he was talking to a kid, and not the strongest 2-year-old ever. "But, what happens then, is that he keeps growing a year older on each birthday - that is, everyday!"

Jack looked alarmed. "That's - bad."

"Yeah, because then I'd grow to be 60 in like a month and die." Dean added, in a deadpan.

"It won't take you thirty years to get to sixty." Sam reminded him.

"Shut up, Sam." Dean scowled and turned back to Jack. "Listen, kid, this isn't about all the good movies in the world getting finished too soon, if we watch 'em everyday. It's more about the attitude."

Jack nodded.

"Like, uh," Dean swallowed. "Like our dad always taught me and Sammy, hunters need to live a disciplined life. Can't just start watching a movie whenever, because that'll make your head feel like you're giving it permission to do crap, just like that, without a routine. That's never good for a hunter - even less so, he'd say, for the sons of an ex-Marine. Messes your head up, and takes away your ability to fixate on your decisions." Dean paused. "It's not like I've not watched movies on a Saturday because I wanted to, but the old man made sense - it's just, a routine is better to stick to."

"That sounds like a horrible amount of behavioral psychology to associate to an activity as trivial as watching a movie." Came a new voice, as Cas stood in the doorframe, his head just slightly tilted as his eyes looked straight at Dean.

Dean's exhale was caught in his lungs, and he blinked, staring at Cas with a chest full of air, and still feeling like he'd sink instead of buoyant. Cas was no longer in the trenchcoat and pants - he wore grey pyjamas which fit snug over his thighs, and a t-shirt which had to be new, because holy fucking shit.

He'd have noticed the angel walking around their bunker, wearing a black AC/DC shirt like that - simple, to someone else, perhaps - yet the way it fit over his biceps, widened his shoulders a bit more, and gave an elevated look to his chest because of the smooth descent to a toned abdomen - rendered Dean incapable of looking away. Complete with his hair sticking up at odd angles, hints of a stubble and inspecting eyes focussed on Dean, he looked like the stuff of Dean's (guilty, oh so guilty) dreams.

"H-hey, Cas." Dean cleared his throat, shifting on the larger couch to make space for him. He waved his hand dismissively to disregard all that he'd just said. "Forget about that, it was crap - come sit down." He suggested, breathlessly.

"Look who finally joined us," Sam addressed, in a normal voice and not even bothering to look up again - making Dean wonder why he didn't get all caught up in Cas's t-shirt, like Dean just had. He was unfairly attractive - but not just to Dean, right?

"I'm sorry," Cas replied, as he sat down next to Dean. Not a single part of them touched, since they were on opposite edges of a large couch Dean originally got for Sam and him - but there was still a tingling under Dean's skin, which had to be Cas's fault. "I couldn't find any socks." He turned to Dean, suddenly smiled, and tugged his pyjama up a little to show him the socks he wore. A pair of fucking novelty socks, they were - but Dean found himself grinning mindlessly, as Cas crossed his legs under him, and the visual was taken away from him.

"Of course, you couldn't." Sam inputted. "Dean hasn't been doing the laundry lately."

"Why am I the only one supposed to do it?" Dean threw back, and Sam didn't say anything to it.

"Nevermind." Cas declared. "I found socks, unwashed though they may be. Let us start." He referred to the movie.

Jack had fell silent for a moment, and he spoke up again. "Yeah! What are we watching today?"

At the same time that Sam opened his mouth - probably to drag Dean on how they better not watch something they'd just watched - Dean spoke up. "We're watching The Fellowship of The Ring, today."

"We just watched that on literally the third Tuesday of March -" Sam complained.

"Listen." Dean threw back. "Don't shove your crazy awesome memory with movies and dates, in my face - 'cause my brain forgot the movie already."

"Forgot? You probably can quote it line by line, Dean." Sam frowned. "But I guess you're not satisfied until you flawlessly recite it in your sleep, like Lost Boys."

Dean flashed his best shit-eating grin, and if that's what he was gonna do, he wasn't gonna agree with Sam. "Well, it's what we're watching, Sammy. Deal with it."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "What about Jack? Or Cas? Why don't you ask them if they want to watch Lord of the Rings again?"

"I do." Jack announced, brightly. "I like Frodo and Samwise Gamgee." Sam rolled his eyes. "But, I could also watch something else. I trust Sam's recommendations, after Harry Potter." He added, faithfully.

"Careful, buddy, Sammy's raising your son to be a nerd." Dean muttered to Cas, and he nodded, as if it was a line that needed to be answered with a nod.

Sam grinned like it was victory handed to him on a platter. "He said he could watch something else, Dean."

"What about Cas?" Dean turned to him, rotating in his seat. "Whadd'ya wanna watch, buddy?"

Cas pursed his lips, as if in deep thought. The deciding element. The one who'd tip the scales in the favor of one of the Winchesters.

"It's not Sophie's Choice," Sam grumbled sourly, as if he already knew what Cas would choose.

"Let him think!" Dean shushed his brother.

"I have reached a decision." Cas informed everyone, looking solemnly at the TV, instead of their faces. "We shall watch The Fellowship Of The Ring, tonight." He turned to Sam. "And if there's no hunts and we're at the bunker tomorrow too, Sam's choice shall prevail - that is, if Dean agrees to go against John's sayings and watch a movie on a Wednesday."

"That's fair." Jack grinned.

Dean beamed at Cas, with his little smile and his goddamn t-shirt, which was gonna drive Dean crazy in due time, he was sure. "See, Sam?" He ignored the comment on his father, because it was rare stilted humor, and in a perfect deadpan.

Sam muttered something under his breath which sounded a little bit like 'profound bond' for some reason, and rolled his eyes in defeated agreement, as Dean began to look for the movie.

"Whatever," Sam substituted, not looking up from his phone as the opening credits began to play. "The three of you can rewatch the entire LOTR series if you want, I'll just leave you to it." He shrugged.

"Hey!" Dean was annoyed. This was family movie night. Sam was supposed to be a part of it too. "Lord of the Rings is right up your alley, nerd. Why're you bitch-facing so hard tonight?"

"Well," Sam chewed on his lip. "It's very long, and I wanted to get to bed for an early night."

Dean narrowed his eyes, and hit pause on the remote just as the elves began to narrate. "Why?"

"No reason." Sam stalled. There was an almost familiar edge to his voice and -

Suddenly, it all made sense to Dean. The dots connected in his head, and Sam's reluctance to watch a three hours long movie was suddenly reasoned.

"Why, Sam?" Cas repeated, intrigued. "Are you alright? Do you not feel well?"

"He feels fine. I know," Dean cut in. "He's got a date." Sam's eyes widened before he vigorously shook his head in denial. "Some virtual crap, I bet, because you don't like to get laid, and an actual date may've involved that - but whatever is your idea of a fun time, hey, I'm not judging."

"It's not a date!" He declared.

"Then it's something like it." Dean shrugged, getting surer, with Sam's panicked expression. He knew his brother well enough to read through this cover. "Tell me Sammy, is this a video call with some chick you met online on those awful sites?"

"Dude, no." Sam balked. "I'm on no such awful site to meet chicks."

"Sure, you're not." Dean narrowed his eyes. "Then, who? Because clearly I'm right about the rest of it."

"It's," Sam looked like he didn't wanna continue, would like nothing better than to not finish the sentence. But with Cas joining in on the stare, he let out a subdued, "Uh, Rowena."

There was a stillness in the room. Dean and Cas slowly exchanged a look, and Sam flushed. "Who?"

"We know her, Dean!" Jack corrected, promptly.

"Not like Sam does," Dean shot at his brother, who looked flustered as crap, and it was all Dean had ever wanted from this conversation.

"Dean!" Sam looked grossed out, while it should've been them. He was the one dating a three hundred years old witch. "We're gonna discuss -"

"- if you're about to tell me you'll discuss a case, I swear to call you on your bullshit by calling Rowena right away." Dean challenged, definitely.

"I -" Sam pursed his lips. "I don't need to have this conversation with you, jerk."

"What about the rest of us?" Cas asked, and there was a smirk playing on his lips, which made him all the more attractive.

"None of you." Sam declared, standing up, looking offended. "You are literally infants! Don't breathe a word of this to anyone, Dean, or I'll - whatever, just watch your frigging movie, I'm out of here."

"If you're gonna do stuff, use headphones!" Dean waited until Sam was far enough to not hit Dean for it and yelled after him, as the latter marched out of the room, embarrassed. It was his duty as the older brother to make that happen, so no issues there. He turned back to Cas, grinning at him - and Jack, of course.

"The rest of us are here without the intention of leaving halfway to call a chick, right?" Dean asked, though it was a pretty stupid question for Jack - and if the answer were yes for Cas, he'd have a major-ass freak out right there.

"Right." Cas confirmed, for some reason; his voice rich and gravelly, and Dean's attention was once again taken by Cas's t-shirt - now that his kid brother was sufficiently out of the picture. True, Jack was still there, but that's a different issue. Dean had to hold a reputation in front of Sam, that he could control his senses in the presence of Cas, and that he could rein it in, and that he could do a lot of things which he was very far from, in reality.

"Me too." Jack announced, brightly, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Jack, you're two." Cas informed him, and Dean had to stifle a snort at the very notion. Nevertheless, he toned down the weird, made himself comfortable in the couch - maybe shifting a little towards the middle, and let out a small, content sigh, for the second time this evening.

He hit play.

*

“Why do we keep making the same mistake?” Dean groaned, his head falling back on the sofa. Once again, like every tuesday ever - they’d forgotten to get food before they sat to watch the movie. Now, around half an hour in, it was all Dean could think about. But getting up seemed like an awful chore.

Cas nodded his head in agreement, grave and earnest. “It’s because we don’t learn our lesson.”

“Dean, do you want to learn said lesson tonight, by not eating?” Jack asked.

“No.” Dean glared at him. “I may be around Mr. No-Food, and Little-to-no-food, but it isn’t wearing off on me.” They’d not paused the movie to have this discussion, so he kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke. “As a human, I have a few simple needs. Such as beer and something like popcorn to chew as I watch a classic with my - I mean, with you guys.”

“Okay." Cas shuffled in his seat, beginning to stand up. Dean frowned instantly, and pulled him down, gripping his wrist. Cas easily succumbed, and was back on the couch with a surprised little bounce - looking at Dean, confused. "What? I'll get you the beer and popcorn, so that you don't have to get up. I can obviously see you don't want to."

Aww, Dean's brain melted.

"Nope." He said, out loud, popping the 'p'. "You don't need to do that. I'll go."

"I volunteer, Dean. It's not about need," Cas protested. "And you enjoy this movie more than I do."

"Sure, but I've watched it a helluva lot more too." Dean raised his eyebrows, and Cas smiled a little, one of those smiles that he reserved for Dean, and made his insides flutter.

"We could just pause it." Jack suggested, not looking away from the TV yet, for the entirety of the conversation.

"No, you keep watching, there's no need," Dean excused, standing up himself, smiling in spite of himself. Cas looked at him, and not at the screen.

"Dean," And that wonderful voice of his swept over Dean's brain and made the puddle vaporize or some shit.

"Yeah, Cas?"

"I could keep telling you what's happening, while you're in the kitchen." Cas proposed, breaking into a wider smile, all crinkly and toothy.

"Aww, Cas," Dean couldn't stop himself in time, staring blindly at Cas's face and short-circuiting in his head. And instantly cleared his throat, and added in a more composed tone. "Okay, you do that. Thanks, I guess."

Dean wondered, as he walked into the kitchen and went looking for the bacon he'd made earlier, what was up with him tonight. He was usually able to hold his tongue in front of Cas - he was usually able to look away from him, even though it took some persuasion. But there was something today, that had taken away his brain-to-mouth-and-eyes filter.

Must be the new shirt.

Dean knocked, obnoxiously loud, at Sam's door before barging in with a plate of bacon and a beer. He saw Sam fast asleep, on his front, and did not know where to go with that, so he left the table at his bedside in case he was going to wake up and resume his midnight call or something.

Then he took the rest of the food and two beers and went back to the movie room.

All through his venture, Cas had kept yelling updates through the door. "Merry and Pippin just hugged Frodo!", "And now, Frodo just met Bilbo again!", "Arwen is speaking with Frodo now!" This had made Dean grin so hard, that he almost dropped the dishes. Damn, Cas was awesome.

As Dean handed him a beer, and put the plate of bacon between them on the couch, Cas whispered to him. "And Arwen just kissed Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

And Dean stared at Cas, his blue, blue eyes and his eyebrows pinched together in concentration, and his crinkled nose - and his goddamn voice, and his way of speaking, and how he just said the words 'Aragorn, son of Arathorn' like an entire fucking dork, and how adorable it was that he'd been doing a live-commentary for Dean, and just - he was almost overpowered by a desire to kiss the perfect little smile tugging at his lips, and palm the stubble-covered cheeks, and maybe, if Jack weren't here, pull that gorgeous fucking t-shirt over his head, because it was distracting.

Dean was instantly taken aback by his own stream of thoughts. He was clearly going crazy.

He could bet it was the fault of the shirt.

*

Okay, but at this moment, Dean needs the remote.

And it's not just because the remote is on the other side, next to Cas, and Dean's brain instantly launches into a scene in his head, when Dean asks for the remote and Cas is too comfortable (he's already holding onto a large cushion like it's a blanket) to move, and he tells Dean to take it himself - and then Dean will have to lean over Cas to get it, and there'll be a moment where he's almost on top of him, and they'll happen to look at each other, and Cas's eyes will flit down to Dean's lips as Dean adjusts himself to reach the remote, on Cas's lap, and maybe Cas says something like -

That's enough.

Dean doesn't need the remote so that something like that plays out in reality. He only needs the remote to lower the volume, because Jack is asleep and he'll wake up otherwise in the war scene and noise that'll follow.

But this way or that, he can see the said scene happening.

Maybe there's a part of him which wants it to happen exactly how it happened in his head.

Maybe it will.

So, with more energy than the sentence needed, he says, "Cas! I need the remote!"

And Cas turns his head to look at Dean, an incomprehensible expression.

But instead of saying a variation of, 'take it yourself' like he was really, really supposed to -

He picks up the remote with his left hand and hands it to Dean simply.

Dean stares at it for a moment, everything forgotten, especially the reason why he needed the remote in the first place. And then he kicks himself for being a goddamn teenage girl about this, and plays off the disappointment with a 'thank you' in the manliest voice he can conjure, and he's pretty sure it makes up for the kind-of-but-not-really pornography he'd been dreaming up. Sam's irritating voice nags in his head, you're confusing reality with porn again.

Of course, Dean is too lost thinking and staring at Cas sideways when he's sure Cas can't see him - to remember to lower the volume, and Jack wakes up with a jolt at the Uruk-Hai screeching at Gimli the dwarf.

*

Jack's going off to his room. The movie isn't finished yet, but he's been dosing off throughout and Dean can't tolerate the insult to the Classic, so he tells him to just go off to sleep. It's been a long day.

"Will you both watch it whole?" Jack asks groggily, before leaving and Dean looks enquiringly at Cas. He only has to turn his head a little, because Cas is much closer to him now. They've both gravitated towards the middle.

"Of course." Cas answers. "Unless Dean needs to sleep." Dean shakes his head confidently, and Jack nods.

"Okay, goodnight dads." He mutters, at least it sounds like it, and Dean would've lost it if Cas's slight weight leaning on his arm weren't grounding him to his current location instead of somewhere panicky in his head.

"Goodnight, Jack." Dean lets out, and he's aware it doesn't sound as constipated as he thought it would, and he's proud of it.

"Dean." Cas speaks up, a moment later. "I think we should turn off the lights."

"What?" Dean blinks, mildly.

"I know neither of us will want to get up later." Cas justifies. "So we might as well do it now."

"Can't you," Dean grumbles. "Can't you use your mojo to push the switch, or..?"

Cas sighs. Then blinks, and the entire room goes dark. Cas's eyes open, and they're gleaming like blue halos of light in the suddenly dark room - and Dean can still make out his face, in the light of it. It's all hard lines and small smiles, from the little he sees. "I need to remember I can do these things, don't I?" He mumbles.

"Yeah, our human incapabilities are wearing off on ya." Dean tells him and they start looking at the screen again.

"You're not incapable if you have to stand up to turn off the lights." Cas replies, and Dean just hums in response.

A little later, Cas speaks again, and he sounds happier almost. "Dean."

"Uh-huh?" Dean looks away from Gandalf on the screen, to look at the angel.

"Did you notice Jack kept falling asleep?"

Dean pauses. "Oh." He smiles too, it coming over him all of a sudden. "Yeah."

"That means," Cas's tone is bright, and Dean can hear his smile. "He's enough human to fall asleep in the middle of a movie, again."

"Human incapabilities strike again," Dean teases, and Cas chuckles audibly and it's a really, really good moment. Although yeah, it's a bit too domestic for Dean to be perfectly at calm - Cas and he are sitting in the dark, watching a movie they've watched so many times before, discussing the progress of the nephilim they've been raising (with Sam, of course) and Dean has his hand around Cas's seat - in what he now feels guilty on realizing is the oldest trick in every guy's playbook. They're both more in the middle of the couch than not, and the beers have been drained to the last drop. One of them doesn't sleep, the other won't - and then there's Cas's perfect t-shirt, which shall drive Dean to madness each time he sees it, and beyond.

*

Slowly, the arm which is on the couch, falls on Cas's shoulder - and it's a rather rapid course from there to it being slung around Cas, with Cas tucked under it and leaning into Dean so that it's comfortable.

It's not that Cas's head is on Dean's chest, or not even that his fingers are playing with the fabric of Cas's shirt - its just that they're so close to doing that, and somehow Dean can't pull back this time.

Like, he suddenly realizes, he's been doing forever.

It's again, a good thing that he pretty much knows LOTR scene by scene, and in spite of almost completely being distracted by everything Cas, he answers all trivial questions Cas mumbles at him in that deep, deep baritone - and there's a heat pooling in Dean's insides, and he can't quite place if its the spot behind his ribs, or further south.

Both sounds most appropriate.

*

Dean is not proud of this, but he fell asleep.

It's not that he didn't finish the movie, because he did - he remembers the last scene (or it could be from a previous watching that he recalls it) but it's just that he fell asleep right there. Next to Cas.

No, not even next to him. Pretty much wrapped around him. And somehow that's - not so wild, after all. It kinda feels awesome. Its not even morning yet, so he has more hours.

He wakes up with his hair tickling his breath and coughs mildly when he realizes that he'd buried his nose in Cas's hair - and his lips on his head, apparently. He straightens, but is sure to not make much movement - because Cas doesn't sleep like they do, he rather drifts off to a sorta-catatonic state but stays very much awake and alert. He doesn't want to wake Cas up, because the angel looks so comfortable, nestled on Dean's chest - that it somehow invokes a feeling of pride in him.

And love.

And that's that. The not-freaking-out segment of this story abruptly comes to an end, and Dean clenches his fist to stop himself from beginning to tremble.

He ends up with a fistful of that goddamn shirt which Dean blames for everything in that night, and Cas stirring awake, and straightening. The weight rested on Dean's abdomen is lost, and it feels weird and colder.

"It's seven minutes to four. Ante Meridiem." Cas announces, in a voice which is roughened by lack of use.

"You should go back to sleep." Dean begs, because Cas doesn't need to see Dean get anxious about the whole pile of feelings he's beginning to feel crushed under.

"Dean." Cas says, in that voice, and straightens some more. He's at Dean's height again, and their noses are inches apart, and Cas looks worried about him. "Dean?" He repeats, and he's concerned, and he's perfect, and his voice is something else, and the way he looks at him is something else like Dean is worthy of all his attention somehow - and the emotions are brimming and he doesn't know what to do with them until he -

He jerks himself ahead, and grabs Cas's shirt for good measures, pressing his lips against Cas's.

It's a moment of bravery, it's a moment of impulse, and it's a moment of utter stupidity because Cas doesn't react -

Until he does, and he kisses back, and he's excited and into it and Dean's taken aback by his vigor and in awe of his own hands which are grappling at Cas's t-shirt for friction as he moans into Cas's mouth.

"I blame the t-shirt," He whines, when they pull away, to look at each other better. And he does.

Of course, he's not an idiot (except for the many times that he is). But what he definitely isn't, is dense enough to not realize that this had been over ten years in the making.

These urges were familiar, and suppressed each time - the sudden feelings were overpowering, except he'd learn to deal with them tactfully, by crushing them with every means possible.

But what had changed today and he'd actually acted on it instead of swallowing it, had to be the tee. It fit like magic, and it perfectly showcased his lean, muscled chest - and gave a peak of his collarbones, and if he stretched, his obliques - and it was as black as his hair in the dark, and ah, it had to be the shirt.

Because otherwise, he didn't know what it could be, that had made tonight - today - this.

Cas still had his hand on Dean's bicep. "This one?" He looks down at himself. "I got it from your closet months ago."

"What -"

"And, you blame it?" He repeats.

"No," Dean shakes his head, anxiously, truthfully as he captures his lips in a kiss again. Slotting in place against each other, and as loving as they were passionate - he had had no idea that kissing Cas would be this amazing. "I love it. I'm gonna need you to keep wearing it. On Thanksgiving, I'm gonna be thankful for it."

Cas laughs against Dean's lips, and says something which is lost in the bliss of the moment.

Nevermind. He has all the moments after this, to listen to him. But he only has this one, at the end of a Tuesday movie night, to enjoy their first kiss (he's pretty sure all the short, little kisses just make up one major kiss). So he does.

*

Edit: Thank you for reading! Would like to tag @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @all-or-nothing-baby @styggtroll @notyoursweetbaboo @moderatelypanickedbisexual @but-for-the-gods-three-days and @emmii4 ! If you don't wanna be tagged, I'll remove you from the list, just ask! Have an awesome day!

[rewrite-canon]

Fifteen Minutes

Monster Prom // No Pairings // 2609 Words // Lyrics by Mike Krol

“What if I told you that the world was gonna end? And you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends?” Vicky sings, bobbing her head to the tune that seemed to be playing in her head.

“What lame shit are you singing now?” Damien demanded, flicking a finger at her.

“None of your business,” Vicky bristled. “Why do you care anyway?”

I sucked in a breath. Vicky was really pushing it now. I think she is the only one with balls low enough to question Damien. Besides me, obviously. Well, Vera and Brian were plenty badass for it too. But only because Vera had enough brain cells to manipulate the way she said it that it looked like she wasn’t confronting him, and also because Brian gave no fucks whatsoever about Damien’s chaotic behaviour. Even now, I shudder to think of some of the arguments Damien and Brian had had.

And speaking of the devil and his green mates, they were huddled together in a manner that only meant no good. Now, Damien had swivelled around to face Vicky, a sneer on his face. I was sure his eyes would flare in rage at her question (they were always somewhat flared with rage), but instead they narrowed and Damien just frowned.

“Because you're distracting me, Brian and Vera from devising a plan to ransack the new substitute’s office with horny epileptics from hell for when he starts looking at our attendance records,” Damien said, gesturing to Brian, who had looked up blankly, and Vera, who was wearing her trademark scowl.

I should've known. Damien had always had a weird soft spot for Vicky (and Oz and Scott, but everybody had a soft spot for Oz and Scott).

“And steal his things,” Vera added. “I heard ghouls were filthy rich.”

“Great,” Brian rolled his eyes sarcastically at her. “So you're just going to waltz into Mr Devido’s office whilst he's being assaulted by epileptic demons and take your time picking and choosing what's valuable enough for your standards, unaware? Great plan, Vera. I thought you were supposed to be a grand schemer.”

Meanwhile, Vicky went back to humming her little tune. Miranda, who was in the middle of braiding Liam’s hair as he was browsing his phone (a seemingly pure act, if you ignored the fact that he was reading erotic gay smut and she kept rambling on her father’s new murderous conquests), looked up at her and smiled warmly. She soon picked up the few words Vicky sang, and began to sing it too, Liam then unconsciously murmuring them too after a while.

“I am, you ungrateful toad,” Vera snapped in the meantime. “Would you be paying attention to anything else around you if you were being grinded on by demons having seizures?”

Brian seemed to mull it over, then he said, “You’ve got a point.”

Polly, who had her head laid in Oz’s lap (poor Oz was trying to do homework, and ignore the heinous acts his friends were planning to commit) and her feet were resting in Scott’s lap (Scott was just chewing on a football, only to stop, look up, and smile adorably at everybody) and was complaining loudly at how bored and sober she was, and how she hadn't got completely wasted in seven hours.

“Seven hours!” She cried out, either to Oz or Scott, but it might as well of been no one, because no one was really listening. “That's the longest I've ever been without drugs and adrenaline coursing through my undead body! Can you imagine? And it's because I'm hanging out with you borings fuckheads. I mean, I'm literally in the lap of somebody doing fucking homework. I haven't even said the word ‘homework’ in centuries. And I'm not even on Oz’s lap in a sexual way so what even is the fucking point–?”

“–And you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends?”

<!— more —>

“What the fuck are you singing?!” Damien roared at Liam, who jerked in alarm, Miranda, who just grinned evilly, and Vicky, who just rolled her eyes at his drama. “It’s going to make me go insane!”

“More insane than you already are?” I prompted, not being able to help myself.

Damien’s scorching eyes turned to me, and I snickered. He’s so easy to piss off.

“Amira,” he growled at me, “tell Vicky and company to shut the fuck up. They respect you for some reason.”

“It’s because she has really fucking good music taste,” Polly answered for Damien. “Like, it’s seriously good.”

Everyone collectively nodded, and I blushed.

“Wow guys,” I said, feeling this was a good time to talk about Rex Orange County’s new album, “it’s not that–”

“What would you guys do if you had fifteen minutes left in life?” Scott blurted, a troubled (yet absolutely adorable) expression on his face.

“I'd probably try to fuck up the world even more,” Polly said immediately, grinning at the thought. “I think I'd try to burn down everything, spray some secret concoction to get people incredibly horny, watch them get at it as they're burning to death, and I plan to do this all while riding a donkey casually.”

“To be honest, I'd probably try to finish this first and foremost,” Liam said, holding up his phone. Then he smiled goofily. “This shit is good.”

“Would you spend it with me and friends?” Scott said, wide-eyed.

Polly and Liam looked at him, at his vulnerable face, and I knew what they were going to say before they said it.

“Of course!” Polly said enthusiastically. “Yeah, doing all that with you guys would make it even more rad!”

“Yeah,” Liam added, but then blushed in that cute, shy way. “But I don’t know how much you guys would love reading this with me.”

“I’d love doing everything with you both,” Scott grinned, his mood instantly picking up, as Polly choked at the statement. He then turned to look at Damien and Oz.

“How about you two?” Scott queried, and I laughed a bit about how Damien’s face scrunched up as he started to think about. No doubt he was using his maximum brain power.

“To be honest, I’m probably the one who is ending the world,” Damien remarked, and everyone started to nod their heads in agreement. “So, sorry about that in advance.”

“I’d probably have to finish this Monsters' History homework first,” Oz said, gesturing awkwardly at his essay he was writing out, “and then I’d probably straighten up all my debts and then–”

“Oh my Satan, Oz, shut it,” Damien said, massaging his temples, as if Oz’s statement caused him physical harm. “It makes me sad, that you would say that. And it also makes me impeccably annoyed with you. And now I feel hostile.”

“When do you not feel hostile, though?” Vicky and I said at the same time, and then we grin at each other and high five.

Damien glared at us, whilst Oz is quick to defuse the fire.

“Well, sorry Damien, but I'm just being honest,” he said quickly, drawing Damien’s attention to him (which is kinda ballsy, if I do say so myself). “But what I do know,” Oz continued bravely, under Damien's smouldering gaze, “is that I wouldn't mind ending the world with you, Damien.”

It's hilarious, seeing Damien’s naturally red face get even redder, and to see Oz realise what he just said and sputter innocently. Vera, however, is not pleased.

“Oh,” she said, sniffing in jealous offence (that takes me all the willpower I possessed not to burst into giggling fits, and I could see I wasn't the only one struggling there, because Polly was just barely keeping it down), “I see how it is. You would destroy the world with Damien, but not with me, Oz?”

“What? No! Of course I would want to do everything with you–” and then Oz’s voice died and Polly finally lost it, which made me burst as well, and the next thing you know Vicky was also giggling along with us. Even Brian seemed to be smirking.

Vera glared at us, which made Vicky and me shut up, and Brian just lost his amused expression naturally, but Polly was undeterred.

“For the record,” Damien said in a weird, insecure, shy tone that made him sound like an entirely different person. “I don't, you know, mind doing homework or whatever nerdy stuff with you, Oz.”

And now Brian was the one sputtering.

“Oh you fucking snot,” he spat, and both Damien and Oz flinched before they could get any more flustered (watching those two try to interact and connect was the funniest shit ever, everyone agreed). “So when I asked for you to hang out with me when I was doing my homework, do you remember what you told me? You told me to get fucked!”

Was it just me, or did Brian genuinely sound hurt? It must've not only been me, because Scott started to pout and put a gentle (albeit big and hairy) hand on Brian’s shoulder, which at least made Brian relax at his touch a bit (if anyone had the power of friendship at their fingertips, it was Scott). Even Liam looked up, vaguely distraught.

“That was only because you had Liam and Miranda over,” Damien, sniffing indignantly. “And if I went, I knew you wouldn't stop making heart eyes at Miranda, so I blew it off to commit tax fraud with Amira. But if you really wanted me to come, then you should've just, you should've just–”

Damien looked at a loss.

“Told him how you really felt?” Vicky prompted, and Damien snapped his fingers.

“Yes!” He exclaimed. “That.”

“What would you do then, Brian and Vera? If you had fifteen minutes?” Miranda asked this time, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“Spend all the millions I’ve earned to hire a gang and assassinate anyone who had ever crossed me,” Vera said without hesitating. “Then, I shall have them skinned and made into fabulous purses. And then I will sell those purses to earn me even more money, and use that to buy us all really expensive, furnished mansions, with servants and multicultural cuisines and everything, so we can live the rest of our lives in absolute luxury.”

Awww. That was actually quite adorable. Vera cares about our lifestyles too!

“And you plan to do this all in fifteen minutes?” Liam asked, deadpan.

“You'd be surprised at how efficient I am,” Vera sniffed, but I didn't think I'd actually be that surprised.

“Definitely not hang out with Damien,” Brian sniffed sourly after Vera had shared. “I guess try to finish off ransacking the new substitute’s office with horny epileptics with Vera. And then, I don't know. Relax and await my death.”

“Well, that's fucking depressing,” Polly murmured to me. “And I didn't know I was capable of getting depressed.”

I snorted. Was she still astounded about how somber Brian was?

“Wouldn't you still have to hang out with Damien to continue your plan with the horny epileptics, though?” Liam asked.

“Well, yeah, fine,” Brian said, not making eye contact with his demon friend (who was trying to make eye contact with him, and honestly, it was shocking how much Brian and Damien got into their own squabbles). “But I don't have to talk to him. That can be Vera’s job.”

“I'm not being your owl!” Vera hissed at him, and she actually hissed. Her small green snakes on her head did too, showing how much she detested the idea.

“What if you were paid?” Miranda queried, probably just out of curiosity, but Vera’s hissing ceased immediately.

Before Vera could discuss any specifics, Vicky butted in.

“I’ve thought about this one,” she said smugly, and no one was surprised. Number one, Vicky had thought about scenarios for everything. And number two, she probably would've thought of this before if she knew the song beforehand. “I would make it my life's goal to find the tastiest flavour of ice cream in all the dimensions! And once I find that ice cream, I will use a device that I would have Calculester make me, that clones the ice cream! And then I will bring all the ice cream back to this dimension and invite all of you guys over and we can eat the ice cream together!”

Everyone seemed to enjoy that idea, except one frowning ghost.

“Um, hello?” Polly asked, raising a hand and gesturing to herself. “Did you forget about me?”

“Of course not!” Vicky exclaimed emotionally. “Caculester is now working on a device that makes food into incorporeal substance that you can digest, Polly. Because, seriously, it breaks my heart that you can't eat. It really does.”

Polly seemed satisfied enough with that answer.

“How did you get Calculester to do that for you?” I ask.

Vicky winked. “Let's just say I turned on my unwavering charm to that library computer. And he didn't stand a chance.”

“If I had fifteen minutes left, I would want to be coronated,” Miaranda said, poshly. “I would invite you all to my coronation, of course. And then once I am mermaid queen I will throw an amazing national party for all of us to enjoy, whilst forcing my endless numbers of slaves to fight each other to the death for our entertainment! Oh, I can see it all coming together!”

Miranda’s expression turned dreamy, which was cute but also quite disturbing since she was thinking about bloodshed. Damien started to nod in approval, though. He seemed to like the idea. Bloody royals.

“I would want to take all of you to the park, where we can have a picnic, and hold hands, and give each other gifts to show how much we care for one another!” Scott said, his tail wagging happily. “And then we can sing songs and die happy with each other, knowing that we love us!”

Scott was so adorable, everyone looked misty-eyed. Vicky leapt up to wrap her arms around Scott, her affection for him seeming to be too overwhelming for her (Scott didn't complain, though). Brian was smiling, and seemed to forget about his brief argument with Damien, because now they were both grinning at each other. Liam was even beaming.

“Ew,” Vera finally said. “I can't believe you all liked that.” She pointed a finger at Scott. “Say that again and you will give me diabetes. I just hope you know that.”

But we all knew she secretly liked the sodding friendship story Scott came up with.

“What's diabetes?” Scott said, bushy eyebrows creasing.

“How about you, Amira?” Oz piped up, and all eyes were suddenly on me. “You haven't said what you would do.”

I mulled it over for a bit, but then spoke up without there being much mental contest.

“Probably make you all listen to the new Rex Orange County playlist,” I said, and Vicky and Damien sniggered.

“You're so predictable,” Vicky giggled.

“What can I say?” I shrug, breaking into a smile too. “My reputation precedes me.”

We all sit there in contented silence for a bit, just enjoying and treasuring one another.

“There's just one problem,” I said, drawing everyone's attention again. “How would we plan to do all of what we all want to do in fifteen minutes? Seems impossible.”

Brian started to smirk, and then Miranda started to smile, and soon Polly was also grinning.

“We’d figure it out,” Brian said. “I bet we would. We've already done so many impossible things in our weirdass lifetimes.”

I shared a smile with him.

“Yeah,” I said finally. “Fifteen minutes is nothing for us.”

[motleyfuckingcruee]

The Outsider (Nikki Sixx x Reader)

Chapter 4

Summary:

It's your first night on the streets of LA. You have just arrived and you have nowhere to sleep. You meet Nikki at a bar and he offers to let you stay with him. You are the outsider.

Warnings:

Language, fluff, abuse, considering smut

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

YOU CAN READ CHAPTER THREE HERE

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

//

It took you guys about two hours, but you finally found where Tommy's friend is playing. You walk in behind Nikki, keeping a strong grip on his hand. You really don't want to lose Nikki. You know how easily he can disappear in a crowd like this. You walk over to bar with Nikki and Tommy behind you. Mick went home. He said his back was hurting him too bad. You settle down on the stool. You look at the stage, trying to figure out who Tommy's friend is.

The lead singer actually isn't that bad. He's really attractive to. He's got blonde hair and moves that are driving the ladies wild. You nearly scoff to yourself. He's obviously a man whore.

Nikki's standing beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders. You lean your head against Nikki's side.

If you're honest, you just wanna head back to the apartment. You're already exhausted as it is. That phone call from Jared really got you worked up.

The band ends and Tommy runs up to the stage as fast as his gazelle legs can carry him. You giggle at how he runs.

Nikki kisses the top of your head. "I really think this is going to work."

"You think?" You ask, looking up into his green eyes.

He nods. "We have a kick ass guitar player and a fucking epic drummer. As long as we can find a good lead singer, we'll be set."

You smile, not sure what to say. You're so proud of him, words can't express it.

Tommy comes back to the bar with the blonde lead singer in tow. His eyes run over your body with a smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes, leaning further into Nikki.

"Guys, this is Vince," Tommy introduces, looking proud of himself. "I think he'd be great as the singer."

"Your voice ain't half bad, man," Nikki says, shaking Vince's hand. "I'm Nikki."

Vince nods, not taking his eyes off of you. "Who's this?"

Nikki's eyes narrow. You pray to whatever holy being that's above that Nikki won't attack Vince for just looking at you. His arm tightens around your body.

"I'm (Y/N)," You say, reaching out to shake Vince's hand.

Vince just smirks at you as Nikki glares at him. Does he not notice the death look Nikki has on his face?

"My girlfriend," Nikki nearly growls.

You nudge his side, trying to signal him to calm down. Nikki's eyes meet yours. You try to tell him to calm the hell down, but you have no clue if that's what he got from that look.

Tommy hands Vince a cassette tape, oblivious to Nikki's anger. "Here's our tape man," Tommy says. "Listen to it and call us."

Vince nods, his eyes still not leaving you. Vince sticks the tape in his pocket, finally looking at Tommy.

"You guys gonna hang around for a while?" Vince asks.

Nikki shrugs. "I don't see why not. It's not like we have much else to do."

You laugh, knowing it's true. The most you and Nikki will do is sit around the living room. He'll be working on some new songs whilst you're reading some book you found in the bookstore next to your work. That sure does tempting.

Vince leads the three of you over to a table. You all settle down. Somehow you end up between Nikki and Vince which only makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. It's one of those circular booths instead of the normal ones. Nikki has his hand securely on your thigh, rubbing comforting circles onto the clothes skin.

You lean into Nikki, not really wanting to speak. Vince and Tommy are engulfed in a conversation about their latest "scores". Meaning the girls they've slept with. You don't really mind their talk. You've heard a lot worse from Nikki before you guys started dating.

"What can I get you boys?" A waitress asks. You vaugely recognize the voice.

You roll your eyes. Anytime you're out with Nikki and Tommy, or just Nikki, if it's a woman waitress she usually just ignores you. But really, could you blame them? Nikki and Tommy are really attractive men. With Vince thrown into the mix you're sure that you'll never even get to place your order.

Nikki orders his usual, Jack Daniels, and Vince and Tommy decide to do shots. You roll your eyes at them, knowing that they'll have major hangovers tomorrow.

The waitress doesn't leave right away. You can hear her speaking to Tommy. Well, more flirting with him.

Nikki nudges your side. You look up at him with a small smile. He leans down and gives you a quick kiss. You're not going to lie, you wanted it to last longer.

"You alright, love?" Nikki asks.

You nod, forcing yourself to smile wider. "Yep. Just a bit tired is all."

Nikki opens his mouth, but the waitress speaks up.

"(Y/N)?!" She exclaims.

You look over and see someone you didn't expect to be here. Her blonde hair and revealing wardrobe hasn't changed in five years.

"Vicky?" You almost laugh. "Please tell me I'm high or some shit."

Nikki laughs. "Nah, you smoked all our weed last night."

You narrow your eyes at him. "I only had maybe a quarter of a joint. You and Tommy smoked like one each."

Tommy laughs. "I only got three quarters of one since you were smoking on mine."

You laugh, kicking Tommy lightly under the table. "You really didn't need to be smoking that much since you were setting the goddamn cockroaches on fire."

Tommy snorts, leaning forward. "I do that shit when I'm sober."

"I'm not even surprised, T-Bone," You say, letting Nikki wrap his arm around your shoulders.

"Did you guys just forget I'm here or something?" Vicky asks.

Good to know she's as bitchy as ever.

"Yeah," You respond.

Nikki laughs. "Look who has an attitude."

You shove him, smiling. "You have no room to talk, Sixx. Before I came around you had a reputation of kicking people's asses for just looking at you."

Nikki nods. "That is the truth."

Tommy shakes his head. "I'm not surprised. The way you went off on London's lead singer kinda pegged you for a hot head."

"This is just ridiculous, now," Vicky says.

You sigh. "You still with Jared?"

"You still jealous?" She retorts.

"I never was and never have been jealous of you and Jared's relationship. Especially now," You respond, wrapping your arm the best you can around Nikki's waist.

She scoffs. "You're really dating this guy?"

You hum in response. You watch as Jared and your sister walk through the door of the bar.

Vince taps me on the leg. I turn my head towards him. I already know what he's going to ask.

"I'm alright," You say, not letting him ask.

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Don't attack me for making sure you're okay."

"We just met, Blondie."

"And that means I can't be worried about you?"

You nod. "Yep."

"You're a strange person," Vince laughs.

You turn back to Vicky who now has Jared and your sister next to her. Jared looks the same. Black hair and a preppy style. Nothing has changed.

"Vicky could you please just go get us the goddamn drinks?" You practically beg. You want her as far away from this table as she can get.

Jared opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

"Can you both just leave me the hell alone?"

Jared looks taken aback by your harshness. He doesn't say a word. He just takes your sister's arm and walks away.

"We're never coming back to this bar," You say, leaning back.

"Why babe?" Nikki asks.

"Too many people from my past that I'd rather forget," You answer. "From now on we're sticking to the Starwood, The Whiskey, and The Rainbow."

"I would say, 'I'll drink to that', but your friend still isn't back with our drinks," Tommy laughs.

You bite your lip, trying to think of any way to get out of here. "Why don't we just go home? We have plenty of booze and we won't have to worry about how we're going to get home."

Nikki looks at the other two, trying to see what they want to do.

"Sounds good. I miss that apartment," Tommy says.

"Tom we were there not even four hours ago," Nikki laughs.

"I still miss it."

"Sounds good," Vince says.

"Hold on," You say. "The apartment is a sacred place that the band members and I hang out. You can't go there if you aren't apart of the band."

"What?" Vince asks, laughing in disbelief.

"You need to choose if you're gonna be in the band or not right now," You respond.

Vince takes a minute, then nods his head. "Alright, I'm in."

You all climb out of the booth and leave the godforsaken bar. Nikki walks beside you with his hand tightly gripping onto yours. Vince and Tommy are talking animatedly about something. You aren't listening to them. Your mind is staying at how you saw three people you ended up hating. They treated you wrong, and you see that now. They belittled you. They made you feel like nothing. You thought that's how friends treated each other, but after you met Nikki your view on that changed. He was, and still is, the sweetest and kindest man you ever met.

"Looks like you got us a lead singer," Nikki laughs, giving your hand a small squeeze.

"I guess I did," You respond, looking up at him. God, he's so perfect. You know that you're in love with him with every ounce of love you can manage.

"Who were those people?"

You drop your gaze back down to the sidewalk. "People that I hoped to never see again. Let's not get into it, alright?"

"Alright." He stops, pulling you into his body. He leans down and kisses you as deeply as he can manage. You smile as he pulls away. "I love you."

"I love you too," You respond.

You mean those words. And hearing him say them is about the only thing that's keeping you from breaking down right now.

Tags:

This fic: @celestica-1988 @miriampraez @scarecrowmax @fandomshit6000 @freddiessmallnipples

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel

Nikki fics: @moon-beame @slutfor-sixx @2dead2function

[blueplanettrash]

Hello, sick kitty anon here. Good news! 2 of our cats are in the clear! our sick one however has gotten so much worse in such a short time. It's enough to where we have to put our baby girl down on Sunday. So to help with the heartbreak I was hoping you could do another papa Iverson fic? I'd love to see how Matt proves himself worthy to Iverson, & any of that sweet latte you've got me hooked on is 110% welcomed lol. I'd just like to say thank you so much in advance, it'd mean the world to me❤️

I’m so glad that those two are okay! I’m sorry about your one though, I know that a story isn’t going to take care of all of the pain but I hope it helps a little bit ❤️

It wasn’t like Matt thought that it would be easy to get Iverson’s approval, but it was more nerve-wracking then he thought it would. Every move that he made was scrutinized by him and he found himself straightening up automatically whenever he walked by even though they were now at the same rank.

He didn’t know how close he was to getting his approval but he just wished that he had some way to tell where he was at. This wasn’t a video game though, there wasn’t a final boss before getting to the final goal. This was real life. He knew that there were people that were married that were still trying to get their in-law’s approval. He hoped that it wouldn’t come to that but at the rate they were going, he wasn’t exactly confident.

What he didn’t know, was that Iverson was slowly caving.

It really started when he noticed the little things that Matt would do for Lance. Every morning, no matter what was supposed to be happening that day; Matt would seek Lance out to bring him a travel mug with tea in it.

It was really the smile that stretched across Lance’s face when he saw Matt coming over. As he handed it over, he would give Lance a kiss and a ‘good morning’ before continuing on with his morning routine.

It was sweet. Bordering on sickeningly sweet.

But the beaming smile that he left Lance with was completely worth it.

If he had to describe Matthew Holt with one word, he would choose extra. He didn’t think that he would meet anyone that could match Lance’s flair for the dramatic, but he was sorely mistaken.

There were times that he would come across the two of them just sitting in one of the lounges, napping against one another. Or, sitting across from each other, hands intertwined with each others and talking lowly to one another with smiles on their faces. Sometimes Matt would just flop on the floor beside Lance with a smile and yell that he was melting and start complimenting Lance at the top of his lungs. The first few times, he chuckled and moved on, but after that, it became pretty well background noise in the everyday life of the Garrison.

It didn’t stop there though, sometimes he would send him a messenger to deliver a rose or a small bouquet of flowers, somehow sending Lance into a blushing mess. Occasionally, he would come up to Lance himself in the middle of the day, the bouquet clutched in his hand and shyly hand it over to him before asking him if he would join him for dinner later that night.

Considering that they had a date night every Wednesday, it became like clockwork that Matt came into the hangers at the same time to bring him new flowers; which he kept in a vase on his workbench beside Blue.

One time he asked about why Matt did all of the things that he did for Lance.

“I think it’s because when we started dating, we were in the middle of space. We never got to do the things that normal couples did on Earth, and we never tried to think about what we were going to do when we got back. We couldn’t afford to, we were in a war after all. I guess we’re just making up for lost time,”

Really, how Matt treated Lance embarrassingly reminded him of how Rosa treated him when they started dating. The constant compliments, and loving gestures they gave. He had always been too embarrassed and nervous to do anything spontaneous for her, so she took it upon herself to pick up the slack.

It was good that she did, otherwise, they probably wouldn’t have ever gotten married. She was the one that proposed after all.

None of Lance’s previous boyfriends had gone so far for him. None of them tried so hard to show how much they loved him. The first time he had gotten a flower from one of them, he had cried and pressed it so he could keep it as long as possible. Now, he got new flowers every week, each one in a different arrangement.

He had been fond of the Holt boy when he was instructing him, he knew it had been the opposite for him but he was smart and driven and he respected that in a student. In a son in law, however, he still had quite a while to go. He had made a positive first impression in his book but it didn’t mean he was ready to hand his son over completely.

Despite what Matt might think, it wasn’t his word that had last say. It was always going to be Rosa’s. Especially when it came to love, she had a way of seeing a person’s true self. She had predicted her sister’s husband within a few days of meeting him and knew that Maria’s relationships weren’t going to last just with a glance.

When it came time for Matt to meet the rest of his family; Lance invited him over during the summer break when Iverson had more time to take off and planned to be home for the weekend.

Mark stood imposingly in the kitchen, leaned against the counter, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Maria looked over at him with bored eyes and cocked her hip out.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m the protective big brother,” he said simply, bulging his eyes a little to seem scary but Caleb and Sophie just laughed at him and ran over to him to grab his hands.

“He’s not going to be scared of you,” Iverson said offhandedly, focused instead on chopping the onions on the cutting board in front of him. Mark’s arms fell to his sides and he sent a pout in his direction.

“Lance already told him everything about us and he told him that you’re even nicer than Hunk is,” he explained, waving his knife around his head thoughtlessly.

“I’m also his brother though, I get to do a bit of shovel talk,” he pointed out, turning to plant his elbows on the table.

“Correction, we get to do a bit of shovel talk,” Maria butted in, elbowing him in the side with a smirk.

“Do what you want, Lance isn’t going to be too happy about it though,” Iverson warned, holding out the cutting board to Rosa so she could dump it into the frying pan.  As she sautéed them, she turned to the two of them sternly with narrowed eyes.

“You better greet him with respect and a smile,” she warned. They flinched and quickly nodded their heads in understanding. She nodded her head in satisfaction and turned back to the food.

“Can we play the Wii?” Caleb asked, tugging on Mark’s hand, Sophie tugging on the other one in sync with her brother.

“After dinner,”

“Hey guys, we’re here!” Lance’s voice echoed through the house as the screen door to the house opened. He led Matt to the kitchen, holding his hand.

“Everyone, this is Matt,” he introduced, gesturing at him with his free hand.

“LANCE!” Mark yelled slamming his hands onto the counter. Everyone flinched and looked over at him in surprise.

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE DATING MATTHEW HOLT!”

“Surprise,” Lance smirked, leading Matt over to Mark. He looked at Lance curiously.

“He’s a fan, follows all of your social medias, your publications, etcetera, etcetera,” he explained with a fond smile.

“Don’t make me sound weird!” Mark wailed, shaking Lance’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Matt smiled holding his hand out to shake, which Mark took excitedly. He introduced him to Maria next, followed by Caleb and Sophie who laughed when Matt knelt down to shake both of their hands as well.

When he brought him over to stand in front of Rosa, she looked him up and down quickly before pulling him into a tight hug. Iverson only stuck his hand out for him to shake sternly.

“Nice to see you again Sir,” he said clearly, which was met with a chorus of laughs from the rest of the family, causing a deep red blush to go across Matt’s face. There was little talk about their jobs while they got to work setting the table and pouring out drinks.

Just like most family tables, the sound at the dinner table was never just eating. They talked over each other, loudly laughing and arguing about the events of the day. As much as they could, they included Matt in the conversations but he mostly stayed quiet focusing on his food and Lance.

The table went silent when there was a sudden clang at the far end of the table. Matt’s teeth were clenched as he quickly put his fork to the side and away from the plate he dropped it on. He looked up at the silence and gave them an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, excuse me for a second,” he said quickly before getting up from the table and heading out the screen door. They looked over at Lance who was looking out at the entryway with a worried expression.

“Just give us a second guys,” he sighed, getting up and following his path.

They glanced at each other, confusion in their eyes. They finished up the last of their food in silence before they started cleaning up, putting Lance and Matt’s plates in the oven to stay warm.

“I’ll go see what’s keeping them,” Iverson said passing by the kitchen to head down the entryway. He stopped at the door before he could leave when he heard talking.

“Matt, calm down, this is only your first time meeting them,”

“I feel like I’m messing up,”

“You’re not messing anything up, in fact, I think my brother is in love with you,” Lance promised.

“I’m sorry. This is my first serious relationship Lance, I want this to be perfect,”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, first meetings are never going to be perfect babe,” he laughed lowly.

“I know. I’m just scared,”

“You have nothing to be scared about, I’m going to be with you the entire time, I promise,”

There was a short silence.

“I love you so much,”

“I love you too,”

Silently he slipped away from the door and went back to the kitchen. Everything was cleaned up and Mark and Marie were in the living room setting up the Wii with Caleb and Sophie.

“So?” Rosa asked, looking up at Iverson curiously.

“He was nervous about making a bad first impression,”

Rosa sighed put her hands on her hips.

“He has nothing to worry about, he’s a perfectly nice boy,” she argued with a huff. They went quiet as they heard the screen door open and close again. They trod into the kitchen, Matt more subdued than the first time he came in. Rosa took that as her cue and went over to pull him into another hug.

“Welcome to the family Matt,”

Now, Iverson was going to be honest, he was warming up to the Holt boy. Over the past couple months, he fell into their family like a puzzle piece. But there were still times that he thought he just wasn’t the right person for Lance. After that night, Matt started spending a lot of time at Lance’s house. Helping around the house and spending as much time as he could with the family.

Iverson found himself trusting Matt a little bit more with every visit that he made to them. He was polite, funny, loyal, and everything else a parent looked for in their kid’s significant other. He still was waiting for that one thing that would cement Matt in his mind as acceptable for Lance.

He was going to get it soon.

He grumbled alongside Mark; Rosa had sent them to pick up some supplies to fix the fence in the backyard, a project he had promised he would finish months ago. She and Maria were out getting groceries for a special dinner since he, Matt, and Lance would have to head back to the Garrison soon for work.

“Hello?” Mark’s cellphone had started ringing and he moved the packages of screws he had in his hand under his arm. A range of emotions started moving across his face as he put the screws on the shelf, grabbed his dad’s arm and started dragging him out of the store.

“Are you okay?” He sounded worried but his eyebrows were furrowed angrily.

“Where is he right now?”

“Okay, stay inside, where are Lance and Matt?”

“Okay, we’re on our way back now, we’ll be back soon,” he promised hanging up the phone, before turning to Iverson.

“Jacob’s at the house,” he said simply. Immediately a fire started burning in his gut. That bastard. Hasn’t he done enough already? Now he was back to terrorize Lance again?

“Apparently, Lance is out there yelling at him,” Mark said as they climbed into the car.

Good. That’s his boy.

When they pulled into the driveway they saw Jacob’s old beat up car, the one Lance used to be so excited to see. The two of them were standing off in front of each other, screaming at each other. Lance was red in the face and snarling, spit flying out of his mouth with each word. Matt was standing a little bit away, looking uncertainly between them.

They couldn’t hear what they were saying but they couldn’t imagine that it was anything nice. Apparently, they were right because, in the next second, Jacob decked Lance, sending him straight to the dirt.

They jumped out of the car but before either Iverson or Mark could make a move towards them; Matt was there. He tackled Jacob to the ground hard and threw a punch at his face, connected with his cheek with a loud crack.

He wasn’t going down without a fight though and retaliated, violently punching and kicking back. With a swipe across his face, his nose was bleeding and falling in droplets to the ground. Matt had the advantage of being in a space rebellion and quickly gained the upper hand, it was only when Jacob flinched at one of the attempted punches that Matt stopped an inch away from his face. With a huff he climbed to his feet, looking down at the bloodied boy.

“Get out of here,” he growled. He didn’t need another warning before he was scrambling back to his car and revving it out of there.

Matt took a few deep breaths, leaning back onto Lance as he came up behind him.

“Matt! Babe! Are you okay?” He asked frantically, cupping his cheek carefully. Matt gave him a breathless smile and nodded faintly.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said worriedly, taking his hand and leading him back to the house. He sat him down in a chair and rushed to get the med kit from the upstairs bathroom.

“Mark, take Caleb and Sophie!” He ordered before climbing up the stairs. Mark nodded and ushered both of them downstairs, leaving Matt and Iverson in silence in the kitchen.

“Looks like you’re going to have quite the shiner,” Iverson commented suddenly, Matt’s head whipping up in surprise. He strained to look at him, one of his eyes already swelling up from the fight. Just as quickly, he looked back down.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect Lance,” he apologized quietly, sounding ashamed of himself.

“Compare your face to Lance’s right now,” he said instead. “I’d say you did a pretty fine job of protecting him,” he admitted. Matt blinked before looking up at Iverson with amazement.

“Maybe you are good enough for him after all,”

“T-thank you, Sir,” Matt stuttered out a grateful smile on his face. For the first time, Iverson returned the smile.

“Call me Mitch,”

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