#so sorry its been marinating in my ask box for so long; I wanted to have a good chunk of time to *Really* try and draw lil apple

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Just popping in to say i LOVE UR ART SO MUCH WAUGH!!!! Its soooooooo exoressive and u get across emotion and movement SO WELL!! I love ...littlr apple ...so much.....u imbue this donkey with Such Chaos

I love this little chaos creature, we should all forfeit our mortal possessions to her.

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2023, Prompt 1: Envoy

"Oh, are we close?" Surito Carito asked, the tiny tonberry trying to lift himself against the edges of the ship to see the surroundings. Behind him, Dia gave a boost so he could see.

"Wow", he breathed. "I'm only sorry that my memory is failing me in the geography of my time. This place is breathtaking." Lily appeared at his side to join him in looking.

"So this is Old Sharlayan", Alka Zolka commented. "I admit, I'm a bit overdue for coming here. Ever since they opened their borders to adventurers, I had been meaning to visit."

"Me too", Setoto spoke up. "I simply can't believe they would allow a tonberry to speak in a place like this."

"Well, I admit I pulled a few favors, but Scholarch Montichaigne seemed positively tickled by the idea of having someone who lived in the era of Nym come and speak on its behalf", Dia explained. "I can also tell you with certainty that no small amount of students want to hear about it. There's a lot of historians here and they are all very curious about what happened to the nation."

"And none of them are going to try and kill me, correct?" Surito asked. "I saw the looks that the Limsan citizenry gave us. Had it not been you protecting me, I'm certain I would have been set upon ere I set foot on the ship."

"So long as you stick by me, you'll be safe." Dia pulled a box nearby so Surito could stand on it. "Now just keep looking at the ocean."

The ship made its way to Scholar's Harbor slowly but surely. Around 10AM, it docked and allowed its passengers to depart. Dia, Surito, Setoto, and Alka Zolka made their way towards customs and arrived to the lalafell woman who presided over it. She took the names and professions of Alka Zolka and Setoto, who simply stated that they were scholars of Nymian history.

"And your name?" She asked of the tonberry.

"Surito Carito"

"And your profession?"

"I am a scholar."

"Of what field?"

Surito seemed confused. "Er, simply a scholar, madam. A member of the Nymian Royal Marines."

The official raised her eyebrow slowly. "Er...why would we need a soldier here?"

Dia shook her head. "Forgive him. He's an envoy of the former nation of Nym, here to give a lecture on its history and culture. There should have been a form explaining his special circumstances sent to you by the Studium."

"There is, yes. I simply need to confirm his name and profession as is listed here. At any rate, all appears to be in order, and you are all granted permission to enter Sharlayan at your leisure. Welcome."

With that, Dia guided the three of them away from the gazebo and into Sharlayan proper. As they walked, all of them noticed as eyes gawked at the creature walking about the city. Some even ran at the sight of Surito's waddle.

"Oh dear...", Surito whispered.

"Don't worry. They are merely ignorant. This is why you're here, is it not? To inform", Alka Zolka tried to reassure.

"Surely, it won't be too long until people begin to understand", Setoto concluded.

Even with their encouragement, Surito kept as close to Dia as he could. As he said, when people saw the ex-Warrior of Light leading the tonberry, they knew better than to try and interfere. Finally, they arrived at the new headquarters of Baldesion Annex, where Dia arranged rooms for them all to stay. Upon the doors opening, Ojika formed a big smile. "Ah, Dia! I'm glad to see you and your friends have safely-- EEK!"

Surito jumped at the shriek of the lalafellan innkeeper. Dia scowled. "Yes, he's a tonberry. No, he does not have a stabby death awaiting you. His name is Surito Carito, and he's a guest lecturer, so I'd appreciate you not screaming at him."

"How do you do?" Surito greeted nervously.

"S-sorry. I've never seen one up close before. I've never even heard of one that could talk before."

"They don't, usually", Surito explained. "Dia here helped break me out of the trance that traps all of my brethren in a state of perpetual violence."

"Oh?"

"If you want to learn more, I'd recommend sitting in on his lecture", Setoto encouraged. "It's tomorrow at 11AM."

Ojika looked up to Dia, who nodded in affirmation. "I think I can make the time for that. Why don't I show you all to your rooms?" With that, the three were led to their quarters for the evening. Upon reaching Surito's quarters, Dia and Surito couldn't help but hear footsteps running towards them. Upon the turn of their heads, they spotted a red-haired miqo'te rushing them.

"Dia!" G'raha exclaimed happily. "Always glad to see you." He looked down and noticed the tonberry, making a curious look form on his face. "Er...Dia?" G'raha darted his eyes down in Surito's direction.

Dia looked down to her scholar companion. "Go on. Introduce yourself. I know him; you'll be safe."

Surito cleared his throat. "Hello there. My name is Surito Carito, one of the last scholars of Nym and one of the last members of the Nymian Royal Marines."

G'raha's jaw remained wide open and he gawked at the marine in shock. "I...I'm pleased to meet you. G'raha Tia, at your service."

"Forgive me, but you are a miqo'te, are you not?"

"I am."

"I've never met one before today. Ah, this day has been full of new experiences."

"Much the same for me", G'raha agreed, "I've never met a tonberry before today."

Surito's face squinted in happiness. "I hope you'll be one of the attendees for my lecture tomorrow morning."

"A lecture?" G'raha looked up to Dia, who nodded. "Well, I can certainly try to make time for something like that. What is your lecture on, exactly?"

"Nymian culture and history."

"Considering your interest in Allagan history, I think you'd be interested in a society that took full advantage of Allagan summoning arts to mold into the tactics of the Nymian scholar", Dia pointed out.

"That would be interesting, yes. Even without it, I must admit I know little and less of the nation."

Surito nodded. "Then may I see you there." With that, Surito hopped up to reach the doorknob, opened it, and let himself into his room. G'raha, still reeling from the idea that he just met a tonberry that didn't want to stab him mercilessly, merely blinked.

"You all right?" Dia asked.

"I...have a lot of misconceptions I need to clear up", he admitted.

"Everyone does. That's why he's here", Dia smiled. "Oh, did you have plans for lunch?"

"Not a single one", he lied, having initially intended on using it to do some research on the Twelve.

"Then you should join us. I intend to take everyone to the Last Stand. I was going to ask Krile too."

"I'd love that! I'll see you then."

A few hours pass, Dia using the time to help Krile with her research, telling her about her own, and listening to Krile vent about the difficulties of restarting the Students of Baldesion. As the stroke of 1 in the afternoon, Krile declared, "Now might be a good time for a break, do you not agree?"

"I couldn't agree more. Let me fetch everyone and we can go to lunch." Dia left Krile's study and gathered Alka and Setoto. Upon arriving to Surito's room, Dia knocked.

"Who is it?" Surito asked.

"A ghost. Thought I might haunt you a bit, just for kicks."

"Come in, Dia."

She opened the door and smiled at Surito. "We're heading for the Last Stand for lunch. You're in for a treat. It's the only restaurant with remotely edible food in Sharlayan."

"Oh...I'm fine here, thank you."

"Surito?" Alka asked. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing at all. I just believe it might be better if I just kept to my room during my stay."

"Oh none of that, Surito! We want you there", Setoto protested.

"I don't wish to scare anyone again."

Dia breathed a sigh from her nose. "Come on, you two."

The three left the room, Surito using his solitude to try and practice his lecture. About twenty minutes in, his door burst open and a crowd of people flocked in. "Hope you're decent!" Dia laughed.

"Oh! What is this?" Surito exclaimed.

"This is lunch. You're eating it one way or another", DIa insisted. "I've brought G'raha along and our host."

"Hello. You must be Surito Carito. My name is Krile Baldesion. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"Hello to you, Krile. Thank you for your hosting my compatriots and I. You're quite possibly the most welcoming presence I've encountered here."

Krile frowned. "Dia told me of Ojika screaming at the sight of you. I apologize for him. I'm afraid that while I informed him of a guest speaker coming to stay with us, I failed to inform him of what to expect of you. I apologize for his conduct."

"It's of no consequence. At least he didn't run at the sight of me like some of the people I've encountered today."

Dia placed lunch on his table. "Well, let's forget about them and get some food in our bellies. Come on up."

The five sat around the table, G'raha in the middle surrounded by Dia and Krile on one side, and Setoto surrounded by Alka and Surito on the other. Dia handed Surito an Archon burger. "You'll love it!"

"So, Surito, what inspired you to come and give a lecture in Sharlayan?" Krile asked.

"In truth, I have been looking for how to revive the art of the Nymian Scholar for some time now that we have a cure for the plague in our grasp."

"Plague?" G'raha repeated.

"Yes. You can see its effect on people by looking at me, and you can see that the cure works with one look at Setoto here." G'raha and Krile snapped their attentions to Setoto, who smiled at them proudly. "You're Nymian?" G'raha exclaimed.

"I am. You wouldn't be able to tell with one look at me, but I am one of the few students of the art left. Were it not for Dia, Alka, Surito, and the work of my father, we may not be speaking today."

Dia smiled as she chewed. Upon swallowing, she added, "We had discussed it for a while and agreed that the best way to try and keep things going was to utilize modern day historians. Montichaigne seemed to rather like the idea."

"I don't blame him in the least", Krile commented amusedly. "This is the first lecture of its kind- a discussion from a citizen of a society long thought to be dead."

After the remainder of their time was spent listening to Krile picking Surito's brain on history, the five stood up and went their separate ways for the evening.

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

The morning dawned on Sharlayan. Surito awoke and rose from his bed before he scrambled to find his notes. Upon finding them and reading them through, he heard a knock at his door.

"Who is it?"

"Remember that ghost from yesterday? She said you owed her 20 gil, so I'm here to collect."

"Come in, Dia."

She opened the door and entered alongside yet another new face.

"Oh...hello...", Surito greeted hesitantly.

"Hello", she greeted back warmly. "My name is Ameliance Leveilleur, a good friend of Dia's. I understand you're to give a lecture in the Studium today, is this correct?"

"I am. My name is Surito Carito. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"As am I. If you're going to give a lecture here in Sharlayan, however, we thought it best if you might look the part." Ameliance reached into her inventory and pulled out a small, white Sharlayan robe, sized for a lalafell. "What do you think?"

"That...would be lovely. I wish I knew what to say...thank you, I..."

"But of course. Go ahead and change into it for me."

Upon the two looking away, Surito changed into the white robe and looked in the mirror.

"It looks nice."

They looked back and judged for themselves. "It does", Dia affirmed, "Although it is a little big..."

"That much, we can change. If you wouldn't mind helping me with adjustments, Dia, we can get started."

After an hour preparing the robe to fit him, they looked upon their handiwork proudly. "Now that's a Sharlayan."

"Don't worry; we can hang the Scholar armor on a mannequin and show it off that way", Dia suggested.

"I would like that. It's important for Scholars to have the appropriate gear", Surito reminded her to Dia's amusement.

"Now that we have you dressed up, why don't we show it off, hm?" Ameliance suggested.

"I...I don't know."

"The only way people will get used to seeing you is to see you. The more people that see you walking peacefully with Ameliance and I, the better", Dia reminded him.

He took a deep breath and braced himself. "All right. Let's go."

With that, the three escorted Surito out of his chambers and led him around town. To his shock, fewer people seemed outright horrified at the sight of him as they walked around town. Some even cooed at the sight of him in their robes, like they would a child. He wasn't sure if that was any better.

After enjoying a leisurely walk about the city-state, they arrived at the Studium where they were directed to the lecture hall. Upon opening the doors, he was surprised at the amount of attendants that had already gathered, and the event wasn't due to start for another fifteen minutes. He sat in a chair on the side alongside Dia, Lily on his shoulder, Alka and Setoto (the latter having arrived about ten minutes before Dia and Ameliance did) and stared at the crowd of students.

Surito had a flash of memory. Nymian universities that trained young people all had their own robes to don in uniformity. They would gather and discuss, await the professors before they would start their work. They would ask all sorts of questions, pose theories, discuss history, magic, current affairs of the time, spend countless hours writing papers and preparing arguments. They would laugh together, they would cry together, bemoan assignments together, and cheer in triumph in their accomplishments together.

To see these young minds carrying on such similar traditions warmed his heart. It hit him in this moment that no Calamity, no apocalypse, and no tragedy in the world would ever dim a curious mind.

The hour drew nigh for the lecture to begin. Surito walked up to the podium that was adjusted for his stature and looked out to the crowd, who all looked to Surito to pay him heed. As he looked upon the faces of these students, he could see them- his classmates, his former teachers; he was back in his element.

He took a deep breath and spoke aloud.

[thisisarcanereverie]

#12 💔

Marc spector

(I don't know if this how you request, I'm sorry)

As Light as a Feather (Marc Spector x Reader)

Hey! Here is a fic from my 500 follower celebration prompt list (here is the link)

(here is my ask box) (For requests!)

You have no idea what you were thinking, loving Marc Spector.  

You’ve known Marc all of your lives, you fell in love with him in high school, pined after him since he was in the Marines and you were in university abroad, and accepted that he would never love you back when he came back from the Marines. 

So why did you stay?

It wasn’t like he was nice to you, he was a goddamn prick. It wasn’t like he went out of his way to talk to you or looked at you like you were the only girl in the world, he ignored most of your messages and when you asked him and almost never made eye contact. Even when he brought all this mystical, god, deity, avenger level shit into your life and turned it upside down, you still stayed. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time you asked yourself why you stayed, why you kept in contact with him when he clearly didn’t give a shit two ways. You even booked an airplane ticket going back to America one day, a one way trip. 

But then Marc would always do something. 

Maybe he would text you first, or ask you how your day was. Or perhaps he made you laugh so hard he made you cry, maybe he laughed too. Sometimes you would catch a glimpse of something in his eyes that gave you hope, however false it was. 

However, that was before Layla. 

 You respected her, she knew of his DID and loved every part of him, even the parts he never showed you. You were thankful that she did, and for some reason, her arrival into your life both broke your heart and cleared the fog in your mind surrounding him. 

He didn’t love you. You weren’t sure if he ever did. 

Maybe it was toxic codependency on both of your parts, you had never not been in each other's lives and with Layla around…maybe it was time to start. 

You had renewed the plane ticket until after the wedding in Cairo, Marc’s and Layla’s wedding. 

You were just one of the few witnesses invited to the vows, the rest came for the celebration. The weather was warm but cooled at night to a more comfortable degree. Layla had been beautiful, an overall simplistic look but with various glittering jewels adorning her. Making her look like she was plucked from the stars. Meanwhile Marc had been handsome as ever, his hair combed back and in a simple button up with slacks and a kippah on his head. 

Overall it was a very casual vow reciting, but the fun didn’t begin until the reception. Dancing and drinking underneath the moon and its glow. You didn’t stay long however, slipping away unnoticed back to your hotel room to get a night's sleep and prepare for your departure tomorrow, feeling bad that Marc had rented out your hotel room until the end of the week. You promised yourself you will pay him back once you’ve settled in your new life in Boston. 

At least that is what you had hoped. 

Marc hadn’t noticed you left until the third day after when he had gotten a call from the hotel saying that the room had been unoccupied for a while. Which he then texted you about and you told him you went home, you just didn’t say where home was. 

Then weeks passed by, then months, you had settled into your new life in Boston and paid Marc back for the hotel room. Made new friends, even had a few flings here and there, you traveled, you just did whatever you wanted to do when you wanted to. 

And yet somehow you still missed him. 

After a year, maybe two, you had a night out with friends, where you ended up meeting Johnathan Levy. He was a wallflower that stood out amongst the array of people, you could easily tell it wasn’t his scene. But you don’t know what came over you, but the next thing you know you're engaged in conversation with him at the bar. You learned he was a professor, and when you told him you were also thinking about getting your doctorate and following the academia lifestyle he gave you helpful tips and asked if you wanted a smoke. You said yes even though you didn’t partake in the habit, coughing as the toxic air filled your lungs. Your eyes water in the corners as you could hear him laugh beside you. 

Safe to say you put out the cigarette and just talked to him while he smoked. 

You talked about literary topics such as the French writer Emile Zola to Freud's findings in the Psychological field and how those findings would be taken today. The list went on, and before you knew it, it was three in the morning and you were the only one left of your group. Taking out your phone you saw messages saying that they all went home and called an uber, they would’ve offered but apparently didn’t want to ruin the mood between you and who they had deemed “the Hot Nerd”. 

Johnathan had walked you home that night, seeing as your apartment wasn’t too far and you both wanted to talk more. The more you talked the more engrossed you became and the faster time flew and the next thing you knew you both had circled the blocks a few times before actually stopping at your apartment building. You were tempted to kiss him, see what it would be like. But you stopped yourself, not wanting to scare him off. You both exchanged numbers and with an offer to attend a lecture he was giving, you parted ways for the night. Something about him was…different. He wasn’t like the typical men you went for, strong men with attachment issues. He wasn’t like Marc but at the same time he was? You both connected, but in a different way. For you it had always been one sided and you talked but you knew that if you had met Marc today, he would have nothing to do with you and you with him. Sure the attraction would be there, but the things you loved about him, the way he taps the eraser head against the desk if he was struggling with something, or the way his crooked smile looked underneath fairy lights, or how his favorite movie is a cheap knockoff of Indiana Jones. Things that made Marc….Marc. But with Johnathan, he was bookish, with a full beard and a head full of wild pepper hair. Glasses on the bridge of his nose, but in a way similar to Marc, you could tell he had a few secrets to him. 

But what would you know, you only met the professor tonight. However as you stared at his contact in your phone you couldn’t help but smile as you made a mental note to request the day he was giving a lecture off. 

You go to unlock your door when the knob turns easily opening to the entryway, a cold feeling quickly replaced the warm and fuzzy ones from earlier. You slowly reach for the small taser in your purse before cautiously opening the door wider and turning on the lights. You pull the taser out and crank it up to the max setting, letting the loud zapping sound resound through your place threateningly. 

“Try me,” you said with false confidence, “I’ve been waiting for a reason.” 

“You should get a better lock.” 

You whip yourself around and go to taser the person behind you only for it to get knocked out of your hands and kicked aside. You stop for a moment only to stiffen as you recognize the curly brown hair and hooked nose. 

“Marc?” You said before punching him harshly in the arm, “What the FUCK man, I could’ve killed you!” 

He gives you a look. 

“Fine,” you roll your eyes, “You could’ve killed me…with a goddamn heart attack, why in the hell did you sneak into my apartment?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Marc said simply, you gently pushed him aside to close your front door and make your way to the kitchen to brew some tea as Marc casually scanned your apartment. You could see his fingers dance over the spines of your books on the book shelf, most of those you haven’t read but keep around to one day get to. 

“How long have you been here?” Marc asked. 

“A year,” You said plainly trying to stay busy so as to not look at him, “maybe two.” 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him while you went to grab two mugs from your cabinet. 

“I told you,” Marc said, “you weren’t answering your phone.” 

“I changed my number about six months ago.” You said, “I sent you a text from the new number, so either you didn’t bother to read it, haven’t tried to contact me in six months, or you lied.” Once you place the mugs on the counter as you went to grab your array of teas from your tea basket, “either way it comes back to the same question as to why you are here?” 

Marc went silent. Out of your peripheral view you can see his jaw clench and fists tighten. 

“Do you know a man by the name of Arthur Harrow?”

“No,” You said as you grabbed the boiling kettle from the stove, “why?” 

“I’m looking for him.” 

You lost it, you forcefully set down the hot kettle back on the stovetop and let out a dark laugh. 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” You said still not looking at him, “So it wasn’t the fact that you felt fucking shitty for not noticing until a year and six months after I left to realize I didn’t live there anymore and that it took you six months to realize I wasn’t fucking talking to you either.” 

“I’ve been fucking busy!” Marc defended loudly, “so sorry if I hadn’t fucking noticed you weren’t hanging on me every minute of the day. If you haven’t gotten the memo, my mind has enough to deal with without adding you into the mix!” 

Tears you swore you never would shed fell on the apples of your cheeks again, leaving hot trails in their wake as shame and anger filled you. You always hated that you were an angry crier. 

“See this is the reason why I left,” You said before looking at him, “You cross my mind every day, but I only cross yours when I’m in front of you.” Your stomach felt heavy and your mouth filled with cotton. You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face, not caring about your smeared makeup, “Just leave. Just forget me, it should be easy enough.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Marc asked loudly as you pushed past him to get your pajamas ready for after your shower. You ignore him as you set the clothes on the counter beside the sink and exit the bathroom. “Answer me! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

You continue to ignore him as you make sure that your windows are locked, knowing that once you get your shower and pajamas on you won’t have the energy to make sure your home is secure. 

“Fucking nice,” Marc sighed fustratingly, “fucking silent treatment isn’t going to work on me (Y/n), it hasn’t since we were kids.” 

“A lot has changed since then.” 

“Yeah,” Marc said, “Like your taste in guys.” 

A newfound anger surged through you as you whip your head to meet his eyes, taunting and dark. 

“If I recall you liked those muscular dumbasses, meanwhile he looks like he belongs at the bottom of a book avalanche.” 

“Oh! You would know wouldn’t you!” You exclaim, “because you just know everything about me!” 

“Yeah I do,” He said arrogantly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Fine dumbass,” You said crossing your arms, “Pop quiz. What’s my favorite color?”

“Red.” 

“Drink of choice?”

“An Old Fashioned”

“Favorite Book?”

“Don Quixote” 

“My first love?”

“Jensen Kidman from freshman year.” 

“Wow,” You said, astonished eyes wide and arms still crossed, “wrong.” You move past him, “every single one of those is wrong.” 

“Fine!” He said, throwing his hands in the air, “but don’t act like you know everything about me either!”

“Your favorite color is white, your drink of choice is whiskey straight from the bottle, you don’t have a favorite book because you had a lot of difficulty reading as a kid but your favorite movie was a knock off Indiana Jones film called Tomb Buster because that was one of the things you and Randall bonded over together about and your first love was and always will be Layla El- Faouley, your wife.” You open your front door, “Is that all or do you want me to recite Steven’s and Jake’s as well?” 

Marc stood there astonished until you saw guilt invade his eyes and shame weighed down his shoulders, as he made his way to the door slowly. You don’t look at him as he trudges past you, as you were about to close the door he stops it, his eyes looking as though they see right through you. 

“What were the answers?”

You sighed. 

“My favorite color is Green, my drink of choice is wine, and my favorite book is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.” You go to close the door again when he stops it. His eyes widen as he searches your face. 

“And your first love?”

A pause.

“I think you know.” And with that you close the door, making sure to lock it and put a note on your fridge to call your landlord tomorrow and have the locks replaced. You rub your hand over your face before going about your business and just as you had predicted, as soon as you took your shower and laid down in bed, you were out. 

Your heart was broken, but this wasn’t the first time, you would be fine. You knew that, but for a while you were going to be anything but. 

But you will live, and as you laid down in bed and sleep enveloped you in its sweet embrace, for the first time in what seems like ever. 

Your body feels as light as a feather.

Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@yuki235171

@dopeqff

@themapoftinyperfectthings

@later-gators12

@lovepeaceorelse

@ahookedheroespureheart

@8hgel

@onestopficshop

(Edit: I AM SO SORRY, I completely forgot the taglist on this one!)

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

hii val my love! may i have a family scenario with crocoboi? thank you so much! i love youuu! ❤

Lari Mi Reina! :D OMG YES Sir Croc would be a interesting dad. I enjoy doing these kind of scenarios. I love you too i hope you enjoy!

Father Crocodile : Quality time

warning: kids (don't read if you don't like kids)

"Mommy, daddy is going to come right? He promised me he would be back on this day." D/n pointing to the calendar. Looking at the circle day on the calendar the 30th of this month.

Crocodile kept is small family a secret. Knowing the Marines and shady business deals that would go south would try to use that against him. He didn't plan himself to be a father at all. But when he found out you were expecting something in him just wanted to make sure you and your unborn child would be safe. He did miss important days like the birth of your child even majority of your pregnancy he was absent due to his schedule. You grown a custom to this lifestyle but you knew even though you both were apart you still had that connection with him. Of course sending gifts and making sure even though he wasn't around paying for the top flight security for your guys safety.

Your daughter peaking through the window elbows propped on the window ceil her cheeks resting in the palm of her hands. She waited patiently. "baby he is coming.." combing your fingers through your daughters hair. Her eyes caught something seeing a tall figure walking towards the main gate. Seeing her small grin appear on her face.

"Mommy look he is here. It's Daddy!" the little girl exclaimed.

"Wait for him to come up." before you knew it you small child ran towards the door. "D/n wait!" you called out walked to catch up to her. You yourself were excited to see him its been 2 months. He would stay the weekend.

Walking to the the entrance of the home you hear d/n "Daddy!"

Seeing him crouch down a bit a as the small girl embraced him in a hug. "My princess how are you doing?" he asked. "good. I missed you a whole lot."

"I missed you too to... Have you been good for your mother?" his large hand patting his head.

"Yes.." giggling at his question.

"I brought you something." Pulling something out of his breast pocket a small box handing it to her. "only the best for my princess"

Opening the small box to see a amethyst pendant that looked expensive (very expensive) "Really Daddy?!?!" she exclaimed.

"Like I said only the best for my princess." Crocodile said.

After a few hours Crocodile had to work on a few things to work on before giving you both his undivided attention. D/n was sitting down on the couch in his office. She was holding her stuff bananawani as her feet dangled swinging them back and fourth as her eyes were looking down at her swinging feet. . She was been waiting patiently for him to finish so she can have his undivided attention. Daz offered to take her outside but she declined.You even tried she declined she waited for her father. Looking down at some paper working he would glance at her. Often Crocodile would hear her hum a little tune from her favorite song. Looking back down at the paper work once again he heard her speak. “Daddy.”

“Yes D/n.” looking from the paperwork.

“Almost done?” She asked.

“Almost.”

"How long is almost?" she asked softly

"D/n” letting a sigh out loosing his train of thought placing the paperwork down.

“I’m sorry.... I’ll go find mommy.” She got down from the couch she looked a bit bummed. He knew she wanted to spend time she didn't like him being away for so long yet she didn't really understand why he would leave.

“Wait....Come here little one.” calling out to her, as she followed the instructions of her father. Picking her up placing her on his lap his arm rested on the arm rest leaning slightly back. “I know I promised you we would spend sometime together today. If you let me finish this we can do whatever you want today.” Crocodile said.

“Anything.” Her head perked up.

“Anything.." kissing the side of her head.

Seeing his daughters eyes sparkle just a bit. The corner of his mouth raised. The expression his daughter made was the same as you're when you go excited. Realizing how time was flying by she was getting her own personality getting bigger each time he saw her. Brushing her bangs slightly back this was his little bananawani

tagging @undercoverweeeb @fireflykaizoku

[lindzaylove]

eighteen

A Kook's Perspective series

word count: 2.5k

trigger warnings: underage drinking, protective dad, controversial bandana color ???

taglist: @ashleyj27 @pogueslandia @maybankforlife @teelagurl558 @maybanktrash @psychosympathizer @slut4jj @cherrybarzy

gif by: @gemmusings

"are you sure you don't mind honey?" your mom asked, putting her earrings on. you nodded again, hoping your parents would actually leave a lot sooner. "we just feel so bad about leaving you on your birthday."

"mom, it is really okay. i'll probably just order some food and watch movies," you lied. your phone was vibrating in your pocket with the Pogues all wanting to know where you were.

"oh, have some people over! the Camerons would be welcome, that Thornton boy too," your mom stood from her vanity, turning to face you. "how do i look?"

"fabulous, as always," you smiled. she did look absolutely stunning. you were sure she would put all the other military girlfriends and wives to shame at.....whatever event this was in Charleston. at that moment, your dad came in.

"Sarah is outside," your dad said, checking his tie in the mirror before looking at you. "i think she has something for your birthday."

"Sarah Cameron?" you asked, turning to look out the window. there she stood, leaning against a black car with a relatively large and thin pink square in her hand. "what the fu-"

"Y/N," your mom scolded you, coming to look out the window as well. "i didn't know you and Sarah were getting to know one another."

"we aren't," you turned around. "i can walk out with you guys and talk to her then."

"go on down, i want to talk to Y/N for a moment," your dad said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. your mind ran over all the things you've done in the past week to warrant getting in trouble with your dad. you had purposefully stayed home since the boneyard party incident and avoided even speaking to the Pogues in case your parents had caught it.

"so, i saw Jake Allen at the club yesterday," your dad fixed his sleeves. your heart stopped; your whole body froze. he obviously knew everything, but no excuse could pour out of your mouth about why you had been with Rafe.

"he said he saw you and Rafe Cameron driving around the island," he finally looked at you. "at one in the morning."

"he did," you nodded. "i had been down at the beach that night. Rafe, Sarah, Topper Thornton, and Kelce Smith were there doing their own thing. I didn't drive, so instead of letting me walk home, Rafe gave me a ride." you were twirling a bracelet around your wrist behind your back, nerves coursing through you.

"that all that happened?"

"he dropped Kelce off, then Topper and Sarah, and then we got here around one. i wasn't ready to come in so we drove around and listened to music. i got home around three and went straight to bed."

"he ran a red light with you in the car," your dad put his hands in his pockets. "so why didn't i know until yesterday?"

"i dropped my phone and he was just making sure i was okay. we just happened to go through the light. he wasn't speeding or driving erratically at all," you were pleading, though you weren't sure why. he wasn't even angry at you, he was angry with Rafe for getting you in trouble and putting you in danger. you could easily put him under the bus and let your dad drive it over him, but you couldn't. you were getting defensive for him.

"he wasn't drinking or on anything?" your dad was still set in his stance, but you were done playing with your bracelet.

"if i was in danger, you know i would have told Mr. Allen," you crossed your arms. "can i go get my present now?"

"yeah, of course," your dad finally calmed down. "i'm just glad it wasn't one of those other kids you're always hanging out with. they must have been at that party that night."

"mhm," you rolled your eyes as you went down the stairs. outside, it was starting to get warm out as the sun went to reach its peak in the sky. your mom was talking to Sarah, who was standing up straight from the car and moving her hands around as she spoke.

"hey," you greeted them, pulling your cardigan up over your shoulder despite the heat. "what's up?"

"happy birthday," Sarah smiled, going to grab the once forgotten gift she had for you. "it's from Rafe, actually."

"he couldn't give it to her?" your dad asked, joining everyone in the front yard. you were staring at Sarah, hoping Rafe had a really good excuse for sending his sister - for his sake.

"he and my dad are going into Charleston today," Sarah told him. you closed your eyes, praying your dad doesn't make a smart comment.

"we're going into Charleston!" your mother smiled, you could hear it in her voice. "what are you they going for?"

"my dad has some business to do and dragged Rafe along. but you two look much nicer than some business meetings," Sarah complimented them.

you rolled your eyes. your dad was literally in his Marine Corp Dress Blue Uniform.

"open up your gift before we leave you two," your dad said. he was smiling, though it didn't reach his eyes. you pulled the pink tissue paper off the gift, your jaw dropping as you realized what it was. you pulled all the paper off, revealing to everyone the Chase Atlantic Vinyl.

"he got you a record?" Sarah asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"we had talked about it the other night briefly," you brushed hair behind your ear, a big smile on your face. "i also have a record player in my room."

"that's so sweet," your mom said. your dad cleared his throat in response.

"you two need to go before you miss your ferry," you told them, ushering them to your father's car. they both kissed you on the cheek and left. you let out a sigh, coming face to face with Sarah by yourself.

"thank you, for giving this to me," you held up the vinyl slightly. "you can go home now."

"that's not the only reason i'm here," Sarah admitted. you paused to look at her instead of going inside. she held up a bandana - a gray piece of fabric that was far too familiar.

"what are you doing with that?" you turned all the way back around. "is John B. okay?"

"he sent me to come pick you up. you're supposed to be coming over to the chateau for your birthday and i am your ride since i had to see you to give you that," Sarah put the bandana back in her pocket. "so go put that inside and let's go."

"whatever," you mumbled, going back into your house. as you went up the stairs to your room, a piece of paper came out of the vinyl. you stopped and picked it up.

happy birthday, y/n. sorry it doesn't have your favorite song, but i hope it'll do - R.C.

you smiled the rest of the way up to your room, adding the record to your box of others. you switched tops and lost the cardigan.

the note from Rafe was sweet, even if all it really said was happy birthday. you thought over whether or not to add it to your memo board, but you slid it on there despite your better judgement. by the time you got downstairs, Sarah was in her car and scrolling on her phone. you got in the front seat next to her, pulling your phone out. Sarah's music was playing quietly through the speakers, but you quickly went to send Rafe a message on Instagram.

thank you for the gift! it means a lot that you got me something :)

you checked your other messages, quickly heading to the group chat to question why Sarah was suddenly involved in your birthday plans. all you got in reply were the eye emojis, though John B. wasn't answering your messages which made you even more annoyed. you were out of Sarah's car before she was parked.

"John B.!" you yelled, storming into the chateau. he came out of his room, a wide smile on his face.

"hey Y/N! happy eighteenth!" he went to give you a hug, but you out your hands up and blocked him.

"why the hell does Sarah have your dad's bandana?" you pointed at her as she came in. "why is she even here at all?"

"well, you were there when we kissed," John B. swallowed. you crossed your arms, biting gently on your tongue. "and this past week she broke up with Topper and came-"

"she went home with him that night!" you exclaimed. "like held his hand and went into his house."

"you went with them, you can't be mad at her for that," John B. threw it back.

"i didn't kiss someone in front of my boyfriend, then let my boyfriend beat him up, and ultimately leave with my boyfriend," you turned to Sarah. "did you and Topper fuck while you were at his house? you were all over him in the truck."

"i didn't," she glared at you. "let me know when she calms down, i'm going outside."

"funny how she gets to talk to me like i'm a dog and you don't stick up for me at all," you looked at John B. "let alone on my birthday."

"i'll talk to her about it after you explain to me what went through your mind when you went with her," John B. leaned against the wall.

"i was thinking that my father would happily blame you all for what happened and get you all in trouble if i had been seen by the police with you. i was the farthest away from the twinkie and would have gotten as all pulled over and in trouble if you'd have to wait. so excuse me for caring about the well being of my friends," you raised your eyebrows. "gonna go get your girlfriend to apologize now?"

"you went ghost after that night. we all just eventually assumed that Rafe convinced you of something bad. Sarah had said he took you home alone and that after she broke up with Topper she went straight home. she got home around two and he didn't get home until after three. he wouldn't talk about what took him so long so we didn't know what happened," John B. explained. "that doesn't give me the right to be a jerk to you, so i'm sorry."

"my dad knew about the party and i didn't want him to connect it to you guys. but Rafe and i just listened to music, that's all," you said, though you were still hurt that they thought Rafe would have that much influence on you. yeah, being with Rafe was fun, but they were still your friends. you were not that fickle in your opinions.

your opinions on Rafe, however....

"i understand now," John B. gave you a half smile, holding his arms out. "can i give you your birthday hug now?"

"i suppose," you teased with a matching smile, giving him a hug. you two hugged and went outside together, the other four people at John B.'s all looking at you expectantly.

"i'm eighteen, not eighty. you guys can be happy for me," you told them, laughing slightly. Kie was the first to come hug you, Pope following with JJ trailing along. John B. went to Sarah and they seemed to talk. by the time you wrangled out of JJ's grip, Sarah came and apologized.

"hey Y/N," Sarah started, fingers rubbing the thin material tied around her neck. you recognized it as the bandana. however angry you were before, it was John B.. he was your friend and you trusted his judgement - despite how dumb he seemed some times.

"i'm sorry," you told her. "you didn't have to come over this morning and bring me here, but you did. you clearly like John B. and he likes you, and you won't be going anywhere. i just thought it was going to be us five, but six is a better number."

"i'm sorry for being rude too, especially since it's clear how much you care ab-"

"let's get this party started!" JJ yelled, interrupting you and Sarah by pulling a beer out of no where and handing it to you. you took a drink and smiled at Sarah.

it truly was the beginning of one of your favorite days ever.

there was glow sticks, alcohol, and a hot tub. you got more bracelets from Kie, a book you had been wanting to read from Pope, a serenade from John B. and JJ, and an IOU from Sarah. there was so much laughter and cheer, you couldn't believe that once upon a time these people weren't your friends. you were so grateful for them, for the adventures they've taken you on.

nonetheless, nagging in the back of your mind, was that feeling in your chest. were you having fun doing something you shouldn't be right now? yes. was it giving you that feeling? unfortunately, no. your brain kept thinking about Rafe despite the dancing and drinking with your friends. you kept thinking about that feeling in your chest you were missing. you were really trying to not let it bother you. you wanted to find your way back to Rafe's truck with the windows down and music blaring. you realized you would probably be chasing that feeling for the rest of your life. the revelation made you ready to go home and listen to your new vinyl - at least that would remind you of that feeling. it was the first time you had ever felt out of place while with your friends.

"hey, are you feeling okay?" Sarah asked, gently touching your elbow. you vaguely remembered that she wasn't drinking because John B. knew you had to be home by the time your parents got back.

"i should probably get home. it's getting late," you nodded, putting your drink down on the counter. "where are my-"

"in my car already. say your goodbyes and i'll see you out there," Sarah smiled, heading out the door to the porch. you splashed some water in your face, hoping to finally calm yourself down. it was dark out now, and you were probably supposed to be home. you checked your phone again, the only message being from Rafe.

"who's that?" Kie asked, popping in next to you. you locked your phone, shoving it in your pocket.

"just some birthday wishes," you waved it off, holding Rafe as your secret. it was just a birthday present anyway, no need to get everyone torn up about it.

"happy birthday, Y/N," Kie hugged you suddenly. "i can't wait to go on a road trip with you once we graduate."

"of course," you hugged her back. "thank you for an amazing night, as always. you're a great friend, Kiara."

"you're just going home for the night, Y/N. no one is disappearing forever," she laughed pushing you out the door while she went to the bathroom. you gave your hugs to the boys before getting into Sarah's car. you checked your phone again, finally being able to see his reply.

i'm glad you like it, you deserve it. happy birthday, y/n x

[mythicalgemwrites]

Selkie x F! Reader (Linn) Part 1

Sorry for not posting earlier guys! I've been very busy with online classes.

Warnings: mentions of drowning. Pics are not mine, all credits go to the owner!

M! Selkie X F! Reader

Living on an island your whole life has its perks. From the fresh scent of the salty ocean air to the calming sounds of the waves crashing lazily, it never failed to wake you up with a serenity that could be found nowhere else. You had lived alone with your Toller pup for the past couple years, in the house that your grandparents had left for you. You grew up with them, as your parents always had to move from town to town due to their profession. They were both marine biologists and had taken up a job at a top secret research facility when you were 12, so they decided to let you stay with your beloved grandparents. However, on a stormy day a couple years ago, when you were 19, both your grandparents got caught in a storm while they were out fishing, and they never came back. During the funeral, you had found out that in their will, they had stated that you should get the house, in the event of something tragically happening to them.

And that’s how you got the house three years ago. When it became too lonely, you decided to adopt a Toller puppy for company, and you had named him Sam, which was your grandpa’s nickname. He provided good company and unconditional love, which is important in every home. The house had its own dock leading to the beach, so every morning, after your walk, you’d put Sam’s retriever genes to good use and play fetch with him, fetching the ball from the ocean was one of his favorite past times. Whenever you brought him to the beach, you sometimes feared he was going to be the reason why someone almost drowned. To date, you were grateful nothing like that had ever happened, but you sometimes couldn’t brush off that fear. You were a writer, and sometimes, you couldn’t control how far your imagination went, and sometimes, the words you put on paper would be some of your worst fears, if they were to come alive.

As the days go by, and the weather gets chilly, you would often take Sam on a walk to the nearby cove, usually in the warmer months it would be filled with children playing by the beach and in the waters, but as the weather got cooler, it was mostly couples going on romantic walks, or some who preferred the solitude, just came to enjoy the sunset. On this particular day, there weren’t many people by the cove, just a couple strangers. It was around 6:15 when you threw the ball the last time, and waited for Sam to retrieve it. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, fully inhaling the chill autumn air, when you heard a whelp coming from the water. Opening your eyes, you saw Sam caught on a wave, and struggling to get back to you. In a panicked state, you took off into the water, not worrying about the growing current, but more worried about your faithful companion, struggling in grasps of strong waves, at least for a dog his size. As you grab him by his collar, attempting to pull him out, another wave comes crashing into the two of you, causing you to go under. Trying to call for help, and failing, as the water fills your lungs, you stop struggling, knowing it might make your situation worse, however, Sam starts barking, with his head barely above the water.

Suddenly, you could feel yourself being pulled out of the water, and being held against a broad chest by strong arms. Once you reached the water, you looked at your savior, beautiful greenish-blue grey eyes met yours, and you saw a cute familiar face looking back at you. It was Linn, the barista in the cute local café. You had to admit, you’ve always had a crush on him, but from afar. You didn’t know anything about him, except that people claimed that his family had lived on the island for years, centuries even.

He had shaggy brown hair, and small freckles were scattered along his face. With his help, you got up from the ground and called out to Sam. “Are you alright? I saw you getting pulled under and saw your dog barking. Do you want me to call someone?” he asked , in a boyishly deep smooth voice. Gaping like a goldfish out of the water, it took you a few seconds to process what was said. Coughing, you rasped out “ Yes… I’m fine, thank you! My dog , Sam, got caught in the waves, and I tried to get him out.” you started babbling like a lost child. “ Can I call someone to come get you?” He asked again, a hint of concern in his eyes. “ oh, no… no it’s okay, I live alone, well with Sam. There’s no one to call.” you said, trying not to act like a 15 year old who just couldn't help but be nervous around her crush. “I’ll be fine, really, I just need to walk home and dry out. Thanks again for helping!” you exclaimed. Calling Sam to you, the both of you started to walk home. “ Hey! Wait!” you heard Linn calling from behind, “ I’ll walk you home, if that’s okay. It’s getting dark anyway. I’ll see to it that you both get home safe,”. Before you could say anything, you felt him putting his jacket over you, helping with the chill. You didn’t realize you were freezing until he wrapped his jacket around you.

When the three of you reached your home, Sam was happy to be back in the warm embrace of his bed. Standing by the door “ Would you like to come in? Maybe a cup of coffee… or tea or anything else, if you prefer?” quickly giving him the option of whatever he preferred, to make sure you didn't seem ignorant. Sure, he worked as a barista in the local café, but that doesn't mean he loved coffee, right? “ Um, sure! Anything will do,” he said, as he followed you in. Looking around, you kicked yourself in your head, not keeping up to the schedule you set yourself for cleaning up around the cottage. Sure, it was decent, but paper everywhere? A heaping amount of mugs were strewn around your coffee table, as you sat there working on your next work.

Quickly picking them up and moving them to the sink, you filled up the kettle and turned it on to boil. “ There’s tea and coffee in the cabinet above the kettle, feel free to help yourself. I’ll go get dried up,” the words left you, as if you were telling them to an old friend, hoping to not make a fool of yourself anymore, you gave him a sheepish smile and made your way upstairs to your bedroom.

(Linn pov)

I made my way to the cabinet, looking through the various tea blends. Something which would help with the cold temperature would be nice. There in the right corner of the cabinet, was a box of peppermint tea. It would definitely help make her feel better, since she was soaked to the bone. I can’t help but feel a sense of concern for her. This beautiful strong woman that I always encounter in the café I worked in, and possibly have a crush on, I can’t believe I never spoke to her. I’ve always seen her writing in the corner of the café, in her spot, as my coworkers and I have labeled it. She always seems so sure of herself, and always seems ready for anything, but today, out in the water when I saw her struggling, something came over me. I had to save her, felt a sense of protectiveness for her, hence why I offered to walk her home. Taking two bigger than average mugs from the cabinet, I filled them up with the boiling water, after placing a tea bag in each and placing them on the coffee table before the couch. Her dog was in front of the heater, longing for some warmth and hoping to dry off. I heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs.

As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw Sam laying before the heater, trying to get warm. Making my way to the tiny laundry room, I picked up Sam’s towel. Making my way to him, from the corner of my eye I saw Linn, sitting on the couch, two steaming mugs of what seemed to be one of my teas in front of him.

“ I made some peppermint tea, it helps with colds, we don’t want you to catch one now do we?” grinned Linn.

Thanking him, and taking the mug he held one, I sat next to him on the couch. Keeping some distance between us, I asked him if he wanted to use the bathroom to clean up.

“ If you have any spare clothing that might fit, I’d like that! It’s okay if you don’t though!” he nervously exclaimed. “ I do have some spare clothing that belonged to my grandpa, they should fit. Gimme a sec! I’ll go grab ‘em, and a towel too!” I exclaimed, leaving the cozy embrace of the couch.

Making my way to my room, where I kept a spare drawer full of my grandparent’s clothes, I dug out a jumper and a pair of pajama pants which belonged to my grandpa.

When I went down, I saw Linn drying Sam with the towel that I had left by his dog bed, and Sam being the belly rub loving dog he is, happily accepted Linn drying him with the towel, belly rubs being a necessity. Letting out a chuckle at the scene before my eyes, I held out the spare clothes and a fresh towel to Linn.

“ There’s a bathroom two doors left from the stairs upstairs,” I exclaimed, reaching for the doggy towel he left by the couch and chucking it in the laundry room. “Thank you,” he exclaimed, leaving to go to the bathroom.

Once Sam was dry enough, I picked up my mug of tea, making myself comfortable on the couch. Looking out the living room window, rain droplets trickling down the class, I sip on my tea, waiting for my guest to arrive from the bathroom. A couple minutes passed, looking up when I heard soft footsteps heading towards me, I offered Linn a smile and patted down the space next to me on the couch. “ Here, you can leave once the storm stops,” I handed him the mug.

We both sat beside each other, talking about what we remember about my grandparents and how we never spoke to each other when we were younger. Sam sitting at our feet. The dying fire casted a warm allure on his face, illuminating the soft scattered freckles. Hours passed as we enjoyed each other's company over another mug of tea, laughing at all the brief mutual moments that were shared between us. He mentioned that he would always get excited to see me whenever I visited my grandparents by the docks. I didn’t want to admit it, but I always loved to catch a few glimpses of him, whenever he wasn't looking as well.

I laughed at his words, tired but somehow feeling rejuvenated. It had been a long time since I last laughed with someone. It felt good to let go.

His expression of awe paused me mid laughter. He was gazing into my eyes, as I his. For a brief moment, his gaze averted to my lips. Moving his gaze up to my eyes, as soft as a whisper “ May I kiss you?” he asked, a foreign emotion lingered behind his now soft eyes.

Giving him a gentle nod, I felt him place his hand at the nape of my neck. Inhaling a deep breath, his scent which reminded me of the sea with a hint of musky peppermint enveloped my senses.

Linn leaned in, gently bringing my face towards his. He closed his eyes, and for a brief few seconds I admired him until mine shut involuntarily as I felt his lips on mine. After a few seconds, he pulled away, still gazing into my eyes, “ I’ve been wanting to do that for quite a while now,” he said, with a sheepish grin, before kissing me again.

He deepened the kiss a little, giving my bottom lip a light lick before pulling away. “ I regretted not telling you how I felt about you earlier… I did ask permission from your grandpa before he passed. The last thing he said to me was, he’d be happy if you chose me,” he paused for a second, a hint of sadness and regret casting a shadow on his blue eyes. “ I… I need to tell you something. I might … might not be who you expect. And I understand if I’m not who you want,” he stammered. Grunting, “ The rain’s about to stop. I should probably get going,” he said as he started to get up.

Grabbing onto his hand, “ No...don’t! Please… It’s late, you should stay!” I stopped him. “And I’ve had a silly little crush on you too… I just never knew how to tell you” I whispered. He sat next to me, slowly, as if I were made of fine china. That, at any moment, I might crumble. “ You did?” he breathed, his breath close enough that I could feel it on my face.

“ I also know what you are. Grandpa made sure to educate me on myths, and he said some were not myths. I’ve seen you carry your pelt around sometimes,” I closed his hand between mine. “I know you’re a selkie, Linn. I don’t want you to hide that from me.” I breathed, gazing into his eyes. I could catch a glimpse of adoration in them. “Thank you… for not running away, even when you knew what I was,” he sighed. I gazed at his lips, before catching them with mine, a soft peck, to let him know I accepted him for who he is.

[imagineteamfreewill]

Here’s to Witches

Title: Here’s to Witches

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1,331

Warnings: None

Summary: Sam and the reader are each gifted something after saving a group of housewives on a hunt, and Sam’s gift is exponentially more... enthusiastic than the reader’s.

A/N: This is completely unedited, so please excuse any mistakes. If you see any glaring ones, please feel free to (politely) send me an ask or a message so I can go in and fix it. The gifs that inspired this fic can be found at the end because I thought they were too cute to not include. Also, feedback makes the world go round and makes my blog a lot more enjoyable for everyone! Please reblog this fic with your thoughts or send me an ask or a message to tell me what you think. Enjoy!

_______________

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this happy,” you said as you leaned against the dresser. The knobs dug into the small of your back and your shoulders but you ignored them as Sam looked up at you with a wide smile.

“I just can’t believe this is real,” he replied.

Bones jumped up on his hind legs, pushing himself slightly off the floor as he tried to regain Sam’s full attention. He succeeded and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way Sam raised the pitch of his voice to talk to his new—or rather, old—furry friend.

“You know, when the witch said she’d brought back someone dear to your heart, I figured we’d come back to the motel to find Bobby or something.”

Sam glanced up at you again, his smile undimmed. “I didn’t think it would be Bones either, but honestly…”

Smiling, you moved away from the dresser to see if your phone had regained some battery. It had died on the way back from the abandoned winery where the coven had been holding its meetings. Thankfully, you hadn’t needed it to call for help. The coven was more domestic than anything you’d ever encountered on a hunt; the witches mostly used their magic to bring dead houseplants back to life, get the smell out of laundry they’d forgotten in the washer, and thaw meat that they’d taken out of the freezer an hour or two too late. You’d been in the midst of trying to figure out how to ask them to stick with what they knew when the real troublemakers had shown up, figurative guns blazing, in an attempt to harm the housewives who were in almost too deep. 

You and Sam had eradicated the bad witches with relative ease and the handful of women had been so grateful to you that they’d put their collective energies together to give you each a gift. They’d given you something you’d thought long gone—a box of photos from your childhood—and they’d promised Sam something “dear to his heart”. 

After unlocking your phone, you quietly placed an order for a few pizzas, knowing that Sam was probably starving after the busy day you’d had. You were about to press the submit button when something bumped against your leg.

“I think he likes you,” Sam said, and you looked down to find Bones sitting at your feet. He was giving you a heart-warming doggy smile and his tail was going a mile a minute. It was almost comical how hard he was trying to sit despite the fact that his butt was wiggling right along with his tail.

You chuckled and crouched down to run your hand over Bones’ back. “Hey buddy! Are you hungry too? Is that why you came over here?” you cooed. Your voice jumped up an octave, just like Sam’s had, but Bones responded quickly and was up in your face as he tried to get as much of your attention and touch as possible.

Sam laughed too, standing up and stretching his arms above his head while he watched. He was clearly enjoying having Bones around and in the back of your mind, you sent up a silent prayer that this wasn’t a temporary thing. If Bones was ripped away from him, it would be a heartbreaking loss. Sam had already suffered so much and you wanted to ensure as much as you could that when he wasn’t on a hunt, he was happy and comfortable.

“You want some pepperoni, Bones? Huh?”

The dog yipped in response and you grinned, then stood. You quickly placed the order on your phone while Bones tried to get more attention from Sam. 

“Pizza should be here in about an hour,” you said, and Sam nodded. “So what do we do now? Think Dean’ll be okay with Bones being at the bunker? And in the Impala, for that matter?”

Sam shrugged. Bones was standing on the bed now so that Sam could pet him without having to sit down or bend over.

“Okay, well maybe we should pick up supplies before we get back,” you suggested. “That way, Dean can’t say it would be easy to get rid of him. And we should probably make an appointment with the vet in town, too…”

You pulled out your phone again, but as you were starting to research the veterinarian offices in Lebanon, you felt Sam’s eyes on you. Slowly, you glanced up from your phone and met his gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sam answered, shaking his head with a smile. “I’m just happy.”

“Okay… Weirdo.” You went back to the website. After another minute or two, you still felt Sam’s eyes on you and you sighed, dropping your hand down to your side so you could fully look at him. “What? Why are you staring at me, Sam?” The question came out with a laugh and Sam’s smile widened.

“I don’t know. I’m just… happy. I’m happy that you’re okay with this,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You love him and I think having a dog would be great.”

"Well I knew you liked dogs, but the last time we talked about getting one, you said that you didn’t think it would be a great idea. What changed?”

Shrugging, you tucked your phone in your pocket and went over to them, making sure to start petting Bones immediately so you wouldn’t get licked in the face again. You pointedly avoided making eye contact with Sam, instead focusing on the retriever who was practically vibrating with happiness at all the attention he was getting from the two of you.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” you answered. “I guess it’s because I don’t want you to have to give him up, you know? I like to see you happy, and Bones makes you happy. He makes me happy, too,” you added, knowing that Sam would call you out on it if you didn’t.

Sam hummed in response, and the two of you continued to pet Bones in silence, only occasionally laughing or talking to the dog when it felt right. 

An hour later, you were setting up the pizza while Sam took Bones outside for a break. The dog had come with his own collar—thank you, witches!—but he’d had to find a rope in the trunk of the Impala to use as a leash.

“It smells good!” Sam said as he opened the door and stepped inside. You glanced over at him with a smile, then laughed when you saw Bones pulling at the makeshift leash to get nearer to the table. When Sam dropped it, he made a beeline for the pizzas and you had to quickly shove him back down onto all four legs so that your dinner didn’t come with a side of dog hair.

“Whoa, buddy! Easy, calm down! You’ll get your dinner soon enough!”

Sam was grinning from ear to ear and you grinned back, feeling the contagious joy bubble up inside of you.

“Pepperoni?” he asked, and you nodded, grabbing the little container full of slices they’d included and holding it out for him. Bones tracked the movement intently and you laughed again as Sam grabbed it and pulled off the lid.

Instantly, Bones was sitting down, his tail wagging as he stared up at Sam.

“Well, at least he knows to sit,” you laughed. Sam laughed too, and soon the three of you were chowing down on your respective dinners.

We’re like a little family, you thought as you settled down beside Sam against the headboard. You’d both torn the top of the pizza boxes off so that the box was easier to hold in your lap, and he’d turned on a mindless movie while you’d made sure Bones had water. 

“Here’s to happy endings,” Sam said, holding out his beer.

You clinked yours against it with a smile, then a quiet chuckle. “And here’s to witches, which is something I’d never thought I’d say!”

(Gifs are by @frodo-sam​ can be found here. I couldn’t find them in the tumblr gif search or I would have included them that way, sorry!)

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[guiltgoreglory]

Heat Waves (Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi.  (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2,684 words)

Chapter 2

Foreword: In this series, the reader will be loosely based off of Nikita from the TV show Nikita (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikita_(TV_series)). The reader has an extensive background in black-ops and is currently an independent contractor working with the department of defense in coordination with the executive branch. If you have any questions about the character, feel free to reach out to me and I can clarify. The story will generally follow the plot of the movie with the exception of a few scenes. Lastly, the POV will shift throughout the story, a change in POV will be signaled by a line.

Author’s Note: Hey guys! I have a full plot already set up but it has been a long time since I’ve written a fic. I’m so sorry if the writing is kinda shitty but I really wanted to get it down in writing. I hope you like it!

You closed your eyes and rested your head against the headrest, trying to find an ounce of comfort in the cramped seat. The dull hum of the plane was cut through by various murmurs amongst the travelers. After a minute or two, you deemed the effort fruitless, letting out a frustrated sigh. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked out the window, watching as the monotonous view trailed by. For the next several weeks, maybe even months, you’d once again become acclimated to discomfort. This shitty seat is probably as good as it gets, you thought. The department will likely have you shacked up in some storage closet on a grimy 20-year-old cot. You have had worse and at least you’d be occupied. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Silva shift. You turned, watching him from a row back, across the aisle. He grimaced as he took off his wedding ring, putting it into a small metal container. He didn’t appear to notice your gaze as you turned your attention back to the window, the heat already radiating in. You felt sorry for him. Leaving people behind is never easy, especially kids. Luckily, you didn’t have that problem. 

As the plane began its descent you skimmed the team comp in your head. You’d been thoroughly briefed on the contractors, on top of all the research you had done on your own. You were joining alongside Jack Silva. A family man in real estate. Pushed to fly back overseas for the money to support his family. From all that you had seen, he’s a good guy. He seemed to be good company. It’ll be nice to not be the only strange face, you thought.

You readied yourself. Benghazi is far worse than most believed. Ever since the department even suggested you might be helpful here, you’d been keeping track of the chaos. It was only a matter of time before it erupted into a full-blown civil war. 

As the landing zone came into view you checked your hijab, making sure not a hair was out of place. You wore a casual white button-down shirt with a gray tank top underneath. You unfolded the sleeves, covering as much of your skin as possible. Given the heat, you’d love to run out in something a little more breathable, but the beige cargo pants would have to do. Next, you checked your “cello” case that sat in the seat next to you. Moving the strap towards you for a quick and effortless disembark. Being you had its perks, one of which was bringing some of your own firepower. 

You cracked your neck as a familiar ding came over the com. 

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

_

The two men settled into the car, watching over all the civilians walking past. Rone leaned forward, pulling a handgun out of the back of his pants. “It’s loaded.” Jack accepted the gun readily, cocking it within his lap. 

“How’s the team here?” 

“Good. Three ex-marines, one ex-army ranger. It’ll be nice to have some more team guys around.”

Jack briefly glanced back at Rone. “Guys?”

“Yeah. We’re waiting on one more before we head out.”

“You work with him before?”

“Nope. Defense department assigned her.”

Jack furrowed his brow slightly, pursing his lips in surprise. “Alrighty then, what’s she look like?” Jack looked more intently for another westerner standing out like a sore thumb. 

“No idea. I’ve been told that she will find us.”

“Oh how ominous.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lip. 

Rone hummed in agreement as he eyed the rearview mirror. Out of the crowd, a body began to beeline towards the car. “Think that’s her.”

Jack nonchalantly stretched, turning towards the back of the car to catch a look. 

_

You approached the dust-covered truck, already craving shade from the burning sun. Your sunglasses did little to protect your eyes from the glare off of the ground. As you got closer, you could see Tyrone eying you from the side mirrors. You adjusted the straps of both your cello case and your duffel, making sure not to make any sudden movements. You made your way to the driver’s side door, turning to face him. “You Tyrone?” you asked, knowing full well it was.

“Yes, Ma’am. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Hop in.”

You nodded, moving back towards the rear of the car. Swinging the back door open, you threw your stuff onto the ground next to the seat. Leaving just enough room for you to climb in. As you sat down, you angled yourself towards Jack so that you could have a proper introduction. He noticed your movement, turning back to face you. He reached out his hand for a handshake. 

“Jack Silva”

You took his hand. “Y/N.” 

He settled back into his seat as Rone started the car. “Just Y/N?”

“Just Y/N.” You affirmed. 

As Rone made his way through the city they began to catch up, making friendly jabs at each other. You yanked your duffel towards you, rummaging through the various clothes. You could feel Jack’s eyes peeking at you ever so often through the mirror, making sure you weren’t doing anything unsavory. Trust is earned.  Finally, you found your shoulder holster. You unbuttoned your shirt, throwing it on the seat beside you. You put on the holster, adjusting the straps as needed so that it sat comfortably. After you were satisfied you again began to look through your luggage, pulling out two black pistols. You loaded a magazine into both of the guns. The sound quickly drew the attention of both men as the conversation briefly paused before they returned to their conversation. You paid them no mind, knowing that any response would probably make them more antsy. You then cocked them before placing them within your holster. Grabbing your shirt, you put it back on, leaving it unbuttoned. It was opaque enough to conceal your firearms as long as no one looked too close. 

“So, Y/N,” Rone directing the conversation towards you, “The Defense Department didn’t tell me much about you. What branch you from?” 

You turned from watching out the side of the car. “Covert operations.” 

That definitely piqued his interest. Jack let Rone do the questioning, but it was clear he was just as curious as him. 

“Alright. SEAL Team?”

“Uh, no. It’s a little more complicated.”

“Oh I get it, you’re on some James Bond shit huh.” He chuckled to himself as you smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Pretty much.”

Rone left the questioning there, knowing he’d probably not get much more of an answer, at least not until you’d come to know him a bit better. The two of them shared a look before the car came to a sudden stop. 

“Shit. No, no, no, no, no this isn’t good.” Rone’s body tensed as he assessed the situation. 

Civilians began to run around the car, whimpering in fear. You straightened up, readying for a shit show. You positioned yourself in the middle of the back, between the two men so you could see as much as possible through the windshield. 

“Fuck.” Rone’s discomfort quickly seeped through his cool resolve. “Who the fuck are these guys?” 

“What do we got?” Jack stayed still, his eyes scanning over the various armed men.

“Brigade we coordinate with, February Seventeenth Martyrs. This ain’t them.” He looked back past you and he switched into reverse. Moving back a few feet, the path was blocked and the car jolted forward. “Shit we’re boxed in.”

You settled on your knees, carefully unclipping the straps keeping your guns in place, just in case. Both men leaned out of the window. Jack looking up towards the man on the balcony readied to run.

“We bailing?” He asked, voice calm and collected.

Rone, giving no response, pulled out his radio. “Base this is Rone. Come in, over.”

“This is Base, go Rone.”

“I’m in a Jam off Fifth Ring Road. I’m lookin’ at about 8 armed tangos here.”

“Copy that, sit tight.”

“Sit tight, that’s great advice.” Everyone in the car became increasingly more agitated as the armed militia made its way in your direction. 

You took a deep breath. “If we’re bailing we gotta do it now.” You glanced at your bags. You could leave the duffel. There wasn’t anything particularly important in there. The case on the other hand couldn’t be lost to a rampant terrorist cell, if you did, the government would be up your ass about it for at least another 10 years. You fidgeted slightly, knowing that the opportunity to flee was about to pass.

Jack clenched his jaw. “They got a KPV.”

Fuck this is bad. 

“Base we ain’t got all day.”

“Hey, Rone. They’re trying to get Feb 17 to back you up, but we’re coming.”

Deeming that transmission utterly useless, Rone whipped out his cell. “Oz I’m in a jam of Fifth Ring.”

“Ty.” Jack interjected as the men became uncomfortably close.

“Rone, 17 Feb QRF is being alerted.”

“Fuck that, the only Quick Reaction force I want is my guys.” Without an immediate response, Rone continued on. “Send them. I want my guys.” He said more adamantly. 

“Negative, Rone. Just hang in there.”

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear. I’m looking at multiple radical insurgents with AKs and a 50-cal technical set to blow my rover all the way back to Zimbabwe. Over.”

You watched as a man dressed in a disheveled suit made his way around the vehicles and debris. He’s the big guy.

“It’s not my call, brother.”

Goddamnit. Looks like we’re either talking our way through this, or we go out quick. The thought gave you the slightest bit of comfort.

Rone looked towards Jack frustrated. You could sense he felt an inch of guilt for getting his friend stuck in this hellhole.

“Here we go.” Jack said nonchalantly as he could given the circumstances.

You crossed your arms, giving yourself easy access to your handguns without looking too conspicuous. A man stood at the front of the rover, yelling something you couldn’t understand. He pointed his AK right at you, maybe it wasn’t on purpose but you couldn’t help but mentally scoff. Well, that’s not very nice.

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

The man in front banged on the hood as the leader moved towards the driver’s side window. Jack raised his hands up innocently as Rone smiled at the man. 

“Salaam.” Rone raised his badge up to the man in the suit as he gazed at him incredulously. “Libyan visa. Official. Libyan government.” The leader looked him up and down. 

The guy with the AK was now in Jack’s face. His gaze shifted forward, doing his best to remain calm despite the barrel of a gun being inches from his forehead.

“Friendly? Hm? Friendly?” Rone again gestured with his badge.

Rone whatever game you’re playing it better fucking work because last time I checked a friend of Al-Qaeda is no friend of ours. You did your best to blend into the back of the car, feigning as the harmless woman. 

“Pull over for inspection.” The leader said sternly.

Rone shook his head. “No.” 

“Pull over for inspection!” He was now angry, his voice shaking with every word.

Alright, this is how it’s gonna go. You crept your hands slightly closer to your guns.

Rone’s voice remained steady. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that.”

The man at Jack’s door yelled once more. Banging his palm against the dirty surface. Then the slightest movement came from Jack. 

It’s showtime. You thought. You gripped your pistols and whipped them forward, pointing them as the secondary soldier positioned at the front of the rover. Jack and Rone acted similarly with Jack’s gun pointed across at the leader, and Rone’s gun pointed at the soldier beside the door. The soldier at the front adjusted his AK, pointing it more fervently towards the car. 

“Look up.” Rone pointed towards the sky with his empty hand, never moving his gaze from the leader’s eyes. “Go ahead, look up.” Some of the aggression left the leader as he looked towards the sky, confused. “You see the drone?” The man looked back down. “No? That’s okay. The drone sees you.”

Nice play, Rone. You thought to yourself. A couple of Americans? No problem. We don’t pose that much of a threat. But good ol’ American air support? Now that carries a little weight. 

“Sees your face. We know who you are.”

Jack, facing the soldier at his door, swallows hard. Keeping with Rone’s power play, he maintains eye contact.

“If anything happens to us, your home, your family, boom, gone. Give us the order to let us go.”

Jack, looking past the AK in his face, doesn’t flinch as the soldier gestures with his gun.

 “I want the car!” 

Within a brief moment, Jack and Rone switched their aim, with Jack now pointing his handgun at the soldier and Rone at the leader. You flinched ever so slightly at the movement, but you remained steady, watching for any worrisome movement amongst the militia. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You ignored the harsh metal of the rover digging into your knees. This was your guys’ only shot to make it out of this cramped alley. They had to think your little caravan of three had the power of the entire U.S. military revolving overhead when in reality, you were just three Americans with a couple of guns in the middle of fuckin nowhere.

“No, I’m not gonna do that.” Jack shakes his head, leaning forward towards the man. The energy around the car was beginning to shift. Despite the KPV having enough firepower to destroy your car, and about 5 cars behind you, you three possessed the upper hand. They recoiled at the barrel of your guns, not the other way around.

The leader’s eyes began to soften, his harsh exterior falling at the thought of losing everything. For a moment, you actually pitied him. “I earn the right to decide the future of my country.” You understood the sentiment behind his words. Once again the U.S. had shoved itself into the center of a country, with no right to do so. But you, and the men sat beside you, just wanted to keep others safe. You had no agenda.

“You’re talking to the wrong guy. How willing are you to die for your country? I’m ready to go right here, right now.” Easy, Tyrone. Don’t push it too far. 

The leader’s frown deepened as he considered the weight of Rone’s words. He slowly backed away from the car. “Leave here. While you still can.”

You stopped yourself from relaxing your figure even though it felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off your shoulders. Rone leaned back into his seat, beginning to maneuver the car between the debris. Jack slowly lowered his pistol to the door as the car inched forward. You followed suit and lowered your guns into your lap. You could hear the leader yelling to his men, and their posture relaxed enough to show they weren’t an immediate threat. Air filled your lungs for the first time in what felt like 5 minutes, before you looked behind through the dusty back window, making sure the leader was true to his word and you weren’t about to get shot in the back. You settled back onto your seat, leaning back against the warm metal. You debated holstering your weapons but decided it was best to have them at the ready until you were within the walls of the base.

“We got air support?” Jack’s voice was calm but demanding. You knew the answer to his question but left Rone to give him the bad news. Rone didn’t take his eyes off of the road as he did his best to make it back to base in one piece. 

“We don’t have any fucking support.”

[swaps55]

This Hole You Left (Anderson)

Pairing: mShenko | Tags: Canonical Character Death, Grief

Post-Alchera. 

This is a stand-alone scene from a larger work, but I’m very fond of it, so I’m posting it on its own. 

~

Captain David Anderson stares out at the repair crews moving around the Presidium. Here, from the safe retreat of his office, it doesn’t look so bad. Scaffolding covers the damaged bridge. Debris still floats in the lake, turning the serene blue water a murky brown. The air circulators have almost cycled out the smell of soot and burnt alloy, but a trace of it still lingers. If he leans out far enough, the tip of the relay Shepard had barreled through using nothing but an M-35 Mako just four weeks ago is barely visible on his right periphery.

He doesn’t lean. Just as he doesn’t look at the datapad in his hand. Hearing the words come out of Joker’s mouth was enough. Seeing the helmsman’s face was enough. Anderson had remarked once to Shepard that he’d like to be there the day someone wiped the smartass off Joker’s face.

Shepard had snorted. Not me, sir, he’d said. If he gives up the smartass that probably means I’m fucked. I’d prefer my pilot remain an asshole at all times.

Shepard had been right, of course.

Anderson wipes a thumb across the corner of his eye. It’s all right. No one here to see.

They came back around for another pass, Joker had said, in a voice that was dull, dead, about as far a cry as you could get from the insubordinate ass who’d gone off on the stand in Vancouver just two weeks ago. Shepard had to be to blame for that display. Politics had never been his game.

We lost gravity right as he shoved me in the pod. Momentum from the blast…kicked him the wrong way. I didn’t see what happened after the door closed, but I didn’t need to. Drive core implosion doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Anderson’s fingers grip the datapad harder. No. It doesn’t. That doesn’t stop his mind from filling in the blanks anyway.

All Shepard’s training. All the hell he’d put himself through to earn that N7 designation. There couldn’t have been a person more prepared to live through the Normandy’s destruction. And in the end, the realities of space had still won.

At least it had probably been quick. Probably.

The door to his office hisses open. For a moment, Anderson expects it to be Shepard. It��should be Shepard. That son of a bitch has been putting Anderson’s heart in his throat since he was fourteen years old, but he’s never had the audacity to actually die. Hell, the kid had taken a reaper to the face and shrugged it off.

Kid. Shepard hasn’t been a kid in a long time, maybe never really was to begin with. But to Anderson, some part of Shepard would always be that fourteen-year-old with the thousand-watt grin and a glimmer in his eye that usually meant Anderson’s heart was about to leap into his throat. The smile had faded over time, but not that damned glimmer. He’d last seen it right here on the Citadel, when he’d stood up from the table at Flux Casino with plans to steal the Normandy right out from under the Council’s nose. And Anderson had helped him do it.

This can’t be how it ends. It can’t.

A voice speaks up behind him, crisp, formal. “You wanted to see me, sir.”

His expression tightens, but he smooths it out before he turns around. Lieutenant Alenko stands just inside the door to his office, shoulders straight, hands clasped behind his back, chin in the air. Anderson can’t shake the feeling there’s an empty space next to him.

Probably because he’s never seen Alenko without Shepard.

Kaidan Alenko. Damndest thing.

Who do you want on your marine detail? Anderson had asked, after informing Shepard he was being transferred off the Myeongnyang and onto the Normandy.

You’re asking me?

I’m naming you XO. If there’s someone you want, just say the word.

Alenko.

Anderson hadn’t had a chance to blink before the name was out of Shepard’s mouth. Not another N. Not someone from the special ops teams Shepard had run when Anderson could pry him out of Captain Oseguera’s hands. He wanted the biotic from the ‘Yang.

Hackett was the one who’d argued for assigning Alenko to Shepard’s detail five years ago, when the dust from Torfan had finally settled. Anderson had thought it would be a mistake. Alenko’s file showed he could keep up with Shepard, sure. But Alenko embodied the kind of idealism Shepard would chew up and spit out.

If we’re going to put his mind right to get back on the front lines, he needs an anchor, Hackett had replied, with that calm, ice cold demeanor that has won him nearly every argument he’s ever been involved in. Alenko will do the job.

The old man had been right. Shepard didn’t get close to people, and that was before Torfan. But he’d gotten close to Alenko. Hell, Alenko probably deserves most of the credit for bringing Shepard back from the brink. Because after Torfan, Shepard had indeed been on the brink.

Alenko might be the one on the brink, now. There’s a look in his eye that Anderson recognizes, and it isn’t a good one.

“Sit down.”

Alenko shifts his weight. Not the sitting kind, then. Not today. Anderson’s going to take a wild guess that Alenko hasn’t stopped moving since the Marrakesh picked him up.

He sighs and remains standing, giving the lieutenant silent permission to do the same. “I thought you’d like to know we’re working with the elcor to get a salvage team to Alchera. We’re hoping they find the Normandy’s black box data. Be nice to get some clues on what the hell happened out there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hm. Brick wall is not Alenko’s usual MO, but that’s sure as hell what he’s talking to right now.

“Joker finished his debrief an hour ago,” Anderson goes on. “I assume you’ve heard his version of what happened.”

More shifting. The uncomfortable kind. Shepard’s done it more than a few times in Anderson’s various offices over the years.

“I haven’t, sir.”

Anderson takes a good, long look at him. He’s spent fifteen years worrying about Shepard. It’s never occurred to him to worry about Alenko.

“I see.” He exhales through his nostrils. “The Normandy was attacked by an unknown vessel. Whoever they were, Joker says they came out of nowhere. Shepard got him into the escape pod, but the ship lost gravity. He…well.”

Alenko stares straight ahead, silent. Anderson looks for a tell, but he only knows Shepard’s.

Alenko isn’t Shepard.

If this conversation is going to be one sided, Anderson needs backup. He moves to his desk, fishes a bottle out of a drawer that’s already half empty after being new just yesterday, and pours two glasses. He pushes one of them across the desk. Doesn’t occur to him until after the fact he has no idea if Alenko drinks scotch. It’s just one of the things Anderson and Shepard always agreed on.

“Have it if you want it,” he says, not up for bullying the lieutenant into a drink. “This is off the record.” He swallows half of his in one go, then heads back for the balcony. A few moments later, Alenko joins him, hands empty, still avoiding his gaze. There’s a chip in the brickwork, though. Not much, but something in his eyes wavers.

Yeah. It might be time to worry about Alenko. Losing two ships in the span of four weeks would do a number on anyone.

Except he doesn’t think it’s about either the Myeongnyang or the Normandy.

Anderson leans on the railing, gazing out at the wreckage of the Presidium. He takes another sip from his glass. “I’m sorry. I know he meant a lot to you.”

It takes Alenko so long to answer Anderson thinks he isn’t going to. But then some of the starch fades from his shoulders.

“He did.”

Anderson side eyes him. Had it been Shepard standing next to him, he might press. He could get Shepard to open up if he was careful enough. Sometimes.

But this isn’t Anderson’s business. And his own grief certainly isn’t Alenko’s business. But while most of the galaxy is preparing to mourn Commander Shepard, the soldier standing next to him might be the only person he knows who’s grieving for Sam. He swirls the remaining liquid in his glass.

“He was the most reckless SOB I’ve ever met,” Anderson says, watching a hanar drift along one of the intact pathways below them. “I’m pretty sure half the shit he pulled over the years was just to piss me off.”

Alenko raises an eyebrow ever so slightly in surprise, but doesn’t turn his head. “He’s always at his best when the plan goes to hell.”

“Since he was a kid,” Anderson agrees, not missing the fact that Alenko had referred to him in the present tense. “First time I ever laid eyes on him he was four. He’d wandered away from Daniel on Arcturus and he called in the cavalry to look for him. You know where I found him?”

Alenko shakes his head.

“In a fountain, playing with a model ship. I asked him what the hell his spaceship was doing in the water. He said, ‘I’m about to find out.’”

Alenko’s mouth curves in a brittle smile. “I didn’t know you knew him that young.”

“I doubt he remembered,” Anderson says. “His father and I were good friends. I dropped in on occasion while he was growing up.” 

Before Shepard was a soldier. Before he was the Butcher of Torfan or the Savior of the Citadel. Back when he was still Sam, all knees and elbows, so desperate to please he couldn’t sit still.

Anderson still misses that kid.

“He said you kept an eye on him when they shipped him to Ares Station.”

Anderson huffs. “Told you about that, did he.”

Alenko nods, resting his hands on the balcony railing.

Then Shepard had indeed trusted Alenko. Only a handful of people knew about Ares Station and Guthra Tulak. Shepard had been one of five kids sent to biotically train with the krogan, and the only one to realize any potential.

Leave it to the Alliance to come up with a program even riskier than BAaT. Leave it to Hannah Shepard to volunteer her own kid to be part of it. Anderson always wondered if Sam knew about Hannah’s role in Ares, and how hard Daniel fought to keep it from happening.

To Hannah, Sam was a legacy. To the Alliance, he’d been a tool with astronomical potential. Someone had needed to look out for the actual kid. Daniel had tried, but.

Losing Daniel still stings. What would he have thought about his Spectre son?

Hell, Anderson knows exactly what he’d have thought. He would have feared this day, this ending, with every breath he took. He’d wanted anything else for Sam. Anything but this.

And Anderson had helped him become everything Daniel was afraid of. Hell, what choice did he have? You couldn’t dissuade Sam from anything. Once he was target locked on something there was nothing you could do but get as many obstacles out of his way as possible and hope for the best. So that’s what Anderson had done. Mentored him, advocated for him, taken a few hits behind the scenes on his behalf and cleared the path as best he could. Maybe you couldn’t take the target out of Sam’s sights, but you could guide his aim to make sure he hit it dead to rights.

“He’s come a long way since then,” Anderson says, wincing when he realizes now it’s him who can’t let go of the present tense. “I wish I’d been at the inquest. From the secure feed it looked like he put an entire roomful of admirals on their asses. Would love to have seen it in person.”

Alenko stills, expression frozen in place like a mask. Whatever nerve Anderson just touched is a big one, so he steers the conversation in a new direction.

“Though what I really wish I could have seen is what he found to gripe about being stuck in atmosphere. The entire time he was in Rio for ICT, he never once complained about the work. Wouldn’t shut up about how much he hated humidity.”

The fragile smile returns. “He hated going down a well without a hardsuit.”

“Know what almost kept him from qualifying for N1?”

Alenko shakes his head.

“Bugs,” Anderson tells him. “Not twenty-hour days, not hostile terrain, not crawling around in the mud without food or sleep. It was the bugs that damn near washed him out.”

A laugh escapes the lieutenant. It’s a rusty sound. “That…doesn’t surprise me.”

Anderson smiles at the memory. “He got over it. Made it through, like he always did. Wish I’d told him more how…proud I was.”

“You meant a lot to him,” Alenko says, so quietly Anderson almost doesn’t hear him.

The lump that forms in Anderson’s throat takes him off guard. “He had a way of affecting everyone he ever met. I forget sometimes it could go the other way. He made it so easy to think he was fine on his own.”

“He wasn’t.”

Alenko’s stare remains fixed on the view from the balcony. Not many people saw the side of Shepard that needed anyone. Even Anderson only saw it on occasion. Alenko was so far from the kind of person Shepard would let his guard down in front of, but clearly he had.

If we’re going to put his mind right to get back on the front lines, he needs an anchor, Hackett had said. Alenko had done the job, all right.

Problem was, it looks like that had gone both ways.

Anderson draws in a breath. Might as well get this over with. “I called you here to ask if you would speak at the memorial.”

It’s going to be a spectacle, the likes of which Sam would have hated, but the Alliance sure as hell isn’t going to be denied their PR opportunity.

Alenko shifts his weight. He’s so damn still. Shepard would be pacing the room until Anderson wanted to strangle him.

“Is that an order, sir?”

“A request.”

“Then I respectfully decline.”

Anderson finishes his drink. “Can I ask why?”

Alenko’s grip on the railing tightens. “The Alliance cares about the symbol. I cared about the person. I can’t give them what they want.”

Anderson can’t help but wonder what the lieutenant would have to say. Shepard was so many different things to so many different people. What, exactly, was he to Kaidan Alenko?

Why Alenko? Anderson had asked Shepard back on Arcturus, the Normandy’s hull gleaming and new out the shutters.

Shepard had thought a long time before answering, like there was too much to say and not enough words to say it.

Because he grounds me.

The older Shepard had gotten, the rarer it was to get glimpses of Sam. Sometimes Anderson wondered if Sam still existed, or if he’d been swallowed up by the mantle everyone demanded he carry. But that answer had come from Sam.

“Ok,” Anderson tells Alenko. “I’ll hand it off to Hackett.”

“Why not you?” Alenko asks, looking in his direction for the first time.

Anderson gazes down at his empty glass. Twenty years ago he might have thrown it against the wall just to watch it shatter. Nowadays he thinks too hard about the mess it would make, and being the one who has to clean it up. “Because I cared about the person.”

Heavy silence settles between them.

“You should take some leave,” Anderson says. “You’ve more than earned it.”

“I’m fine,” Alenko replies, but that haunted look is back.

Soon enough you’re going to have to stop moving, son, Anderson thinks. After Torfan, Shepard had hit the same wall Alenko is cruising right towards. But Alenko isn’t Shepard, and he isn’t under his command anymore. All he can do is give him a hand if he asks for it, and from the looks of it he isn’t going to ask.

Not that it would matter. Anderson’s got no anchor to give him that could replace the one he lost.

“Just think about it. And get some sleep.” He gestures towards the door, freeing the lieutenant from further torture. While Alenko makes for the exit, Anderson heads for his desk and the untouched glass. No sense in letting it go to waste.

Alenko pauses at the doorway and looks back over his shoulder. “Rain.”

“I’m sorry?” Anderson asks with a frown.

“You wanted to know what he found to gripe about on Earth. It was the rain.” He looks away without waiting for a response and walks away.

That empty space Anderson thought he’d been imagining when Alenko walked in feels even larger, now. Yeah. Shepard sure knows how to leave a hole in people.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Dealing with Intruders.”

So sorry this came out so late today. I was at work and things got busy. I wanted it to be a bit longer, but decided this was a good enough stopping point. I hope you all enjoy

Yeb took a step back.

“I said run, and DIE!” The small, Fuzzy creature said, its ear twitching spastically over its brightly colored fur.

She froze in place, she didn’t know what this creature was, she had never seen it through all of her spying on the ship. It was small though, so there was more than a distinct possibility that she just hadn’t seen it. Either way that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t know anything about it. It could be poisonous, or venomous, or have some other strange ability that she didn’t know about.

“Who are you!” it demanded.

She held up her hands, “Yeb…. my name is Yeb, please don’t hurt me I’m sorry I snuck aboard your ship…. I… I panicked.”

“A stowaway then, from the ice planet.”

She nodded quickly, “Please, I mean you no harm, I just…. I just made a dumb mistake is all.”

“I feel that the Admiral will be very interested to learn about this.”

She felt her fur stand on end thinking of the genial alien captain and how he would react to the sudden appearance of her on his ship, a stowaway. What might he think about her betraying his trust like that, what would he seem like when driven to anger?

“Come with me.” The little fuzzball ordered, turned and began waddling away, “Try to escape and I break your kneecaps.”

Yeb followed behind silently. She didn’t see how the small creature would even reach her kneecaps, but she certainly didn’t want to challenge it. If it was THAT confident it could hurt her, then she had no desire to figure out why.

They stepped into the hallway, her following, keeping mostly to the maintenance tunnels, gone unused by most of the crew. At a certain point she started to hear low murmured voices rising up in some agitation over the thrumming sound of the ship’s distant engines. They came out of the maintenance corridor, and the sound around them rose higher.

It was still agitated, but hushed, and as she walked into the room she was greeted with a very odd…. And an almost disturbing scene.

There was a ring in the center of the floor, surrounded by seats. Inside the ring, little drops of red made a smattering over the floor. The humans sat around in agitated silence looking between each other and the occasional Drev.

Sitting just outside the circle was the human leader…. looking …. More the worse for wear.

He had a small crowd gathered around him,and that strange red liquid was leaking down the side of his face and onto his shirt. Just to the side, the small Blue Drev was standing looking concerned.

As Yeb got closer, she noticed to her horror that the human’s leg was missing! She froze in place and the entire group of whispering humans looked up as she stopped. Concern turned to confusion turned to shock.

The human leader lifted his head, which was discolored and leaking fluid but paused as well, “You!”

“She shrunk back.”

“I found this stowaway hiding in the maintenance tunnels.” The fluff ball announced to the whole room.

The human opened his mouth, closed it, tilted his head and then sighed.

“Will you give us just a moment.” His voice was calm and restrained, almost, tired.

He turned to look over at The blue Drev and a smaller group of humans clustered around just to the side.

“Any joy?”

“It doesn’t look too bad sir, most of the main components are intact as expected, it is just a faulty joining pin.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Unfortunately….not with what we have here. But it should be easy enough to order At Europa.”

He sighed, “Sit, well, it’ll have to do.” He turned to look at one of the other humans, she knew to be named Ramirez, “Head to my room, look in the closet, and in the back corner, you will find those crutches that go around your wrists.”

The man nodded, “Yeah, for sue.” He jogged off and the human leader, Adam, turned to face her.

Slow red was still oozing from the side of his face still as the little spidery alien creature attempted to stop it.

“Yeb, I can’t say I expected to see you here.”

“I...I am so sorry… I have no idea what I was thinking. I saw the box, and it was open, and i just sort of… jumped in, I have no idea why I did that, and then I was worried that you were going to be mad, so I…. So I hid and…. and .” 

It was getting very hot all of a sudden, and she was beginning to pant.

“Wow, slow your roll there for a moment.” He held up his hands.

She stared at him, teetering on the edge of concern and fear.

“That….. Sounds like exactly something I would have done.” He smiled at her with his pearly white teeth, “Welcome aboard the Omen. I wish you would have told me sooner as this is hardly a hospitable environment for you. Where have you been hiding.”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, “The…. walk-in freezer?”

He barked a laugh, “Ingenious.” 

He held a pad of white to the side of his head and went to stand but stopped suddenly apparently seeming surprised that he was missing a leg. He huffed, “Will someone help me up.” He turned to look at the small doctor frowning and arms crossed over its bug-like chest, “Yes, we will discuss my idiocy later, but right now, we need to figure out how to keep our friend comfortable.”

The little doctor gave her a good once-over, “Does your fur grow back?”

She paused, frowned and then nodded slowly, “Yes it does.”

“Even the under layer?”

“yes , it would.”

The humans glanced between each other, and Adam held up a hand, “Now, this is not out of offence to you, so Don’t take it that way, but….. It might be cooler and more bearable if…. Perhaps you had less fur…. As in shaving it.”

She paused in thought, “I….I have never thought about it….I suppose…. It can’t hurt, if it would make the heat more bearable.”

“Alright, than that is something we can do. Your other options to wear a cooling vest,but those are heavy and would require battery changes and charging. Granted the other way would not be permanent either, but it might last longer.”

She paused to think about it, then, “Will you let me stay here.”

“I was going to let you stay here no matter what you chose to do, so it's your call.”

Just then Ramirez came jogging into the room holding a pair of metal sticks with strange loops at the end, which he handed over to Adam.

The human threaded his wrists through the loops, and levered himself up onto his one remaining leg with his weight supported on the metal sticks. Yeb tried to keep from staring, but fascination outweighed her propriety.

“Krill, take Yeb to the infirmary, and see if you can’t figure out how to safely remove some of her fur. I mean sheep shears would probably be best, but it's not like I have any of those lying around the ship.”

“And you?”

“I will be right along.”

The little spidery alien moved to the side of her and guided her away from the room. She glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see the Blue Drev and the human duck their heads in fervent conversation, her keen hearing managed to pick up some of what was being said, “Adam, I am so sorry I…”

“I asked r it, its ok.”

“No its-”

“Yes it is, now please don’t worry about it, and if you really are, just fix my leg when we get back to Europa.”

She saw the human touch the Drev’s Arm for just a moment before he limped away on his crutches, following after them up the hall.

Again she tried not to stare.

He was fast on those things, and surprisingly mobile, but her eyes kept being drawn to his missing leg, amputated at center thigh. She had seen wounds like that before, mostly after someone got to close to an ice beast or a crevice lurker. They had never lasted long dying from cold and shock a few hours after the incident.

What kind of…. Ungodly power would keep someone alive after trauma like that….

Her thoughts were cut off as she was pulled into the bright hite room next to the freezer. She was sat down and examined by the small studious doctor, who still seemed too grouchy to be particularly talkative. After a while two of the marines came trotting into the room each holding a box.

“This is all we could find, a couple of razors from the crew quarters.”

The one named Maverick eyed her, “I doubt they will be very usable after this.”

Ramirez nodded, “I’d tend to agree.”

Adam limped up behind them, “Might as well try.” he looked down at Yeb with a smile, “Want to do it yourself, or have some help.”

“Er…. help?”

Ramirez clicked on the Razor, “Hey, do you want a mohawk?” 

She blinked, “A what.”

“We could do it all the way down your back, have the hair longer there, it would look badass.”

Yeb thought he was joking for a moment but seeing the look on Adam’s face she had a feeling he wasn’t. She wondered, they seemed excited and almost hopeful she’d say yes…. She didn’t see the harm in it,and  she didn’t know what badass meant but it sounded fun. So she hesitantly nodded.

“Fuck yeah.”

She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted “These two humans, but what else was she to do?

The going was very, very slow, and the strange machines were very, very loud, she watched as her hair fell to the floor in great chunks, and was surprised when a cool breeze rushed over her neck.

It took them over an hour, and by the time they were done the floor was covered in hair, and she was marginally more comfortable. It felt so weird, and when they turned a mirror towards her she was shocked.

She was so…

Small.

She turned her head looking down at the scruff of hair left on her back which she was delighted to find made her look more vicious, the effect would be even more prominent when her fur stood up on end.

“See, badass.”

The little doctor crossed his arms again, “Don’t you think, Admiral that this might cause some diplomatic issues with the Tricar if they were to know she is here?”

“Than I guess we better not let anyone know she is here, and look at her, a horrible accident caused her to lose her fur and now she wouldn’t last a day back home, we are simply being generous hosts.” he patted her back then paused, “I have another potentially inappropriate question, so please don’t be offended.”

She looked up at him her head tilted and her ears pulled back.

“What?”

“Can I please…. Touch your fur, you look very fluffy, and humans love to pet things. Its sort of a thing about us?”

She shrugged and didn’t see the harm in it.

He grinned at her rather happy and adjusted himself to balance on one crutch, hooking his hand out of the other as he reached over and ran a hand from the top of her head and w nto her shoulders.

“So fluffy!”

She laid her ears back, That was actually kind of nice, and when he stopped she was only mildly disappointed. She’d have to convince someone else to touch her fur, which she doubted would be hard.

“Anyway, I have to take care of a head wound, but Ramirez and Maverick, why don’t you take Yeb around the ship, and give her the full tour, you know without the sneaking around and being forced to hide in the walk in freezer.”

They nodded and laughed somewhat.

“Try to keep her out of trouble will you. Oh…. and if you see Sunny…. Can you send her up here?”

His voice had grown somewhat hesitant, a minute change in pitch which she detected with her large ears.

She wondered what was going on, but let it go as the humans took her by the shoulder and led her away.

They seemed excited to have heron the ship, and their excitement made her excited. She was more than ready to learn and spend time with this strange alien species. And to try more of their food, which was about ten times better than the bland over-salted fish on her planet.

Hopefully she would be able to repay them somehow.

[emilyelizabethfowl]

Fic Writer Interview

I have been tagged by @jajalala (...a loooong time ago. like july kind of long time ago. but i'm finally getting around to it!) Thank you for the tag! <3

Name(s): I'm fairly consistent, using Emily (Elizabeth) Fowl or variations for pretty much every account ever

Fandom(s): Boku No Hero Academia, Avatar the Last Airbender, Harry Potter (i know. but there is a few fanfics i love too much to give up)

Where you post: Strictly AO3. I have an old fanfiction.net account, but I don't have any works posted there.

Most popular one-shot (by kudoes): [my secret agenda for the delay: waiting until I posted this one xD] "The Right Thing to Do" - this is, technically, the second BNHA fanfiction I have started this year, iirc. I had it finished even before the Fic Fight ever happened, but I wanted to wait until July to post it, to have it be closer to Izuku's birthday.

Most popular multi-chap (also by kudoes): sighs to my eternal consternation, "Sorry Aunt Petunia". Hopefully one of the BNHA longfics I have planned will overtake it. I do not enjoy having it dominate my stats page

Favourite story you've written so far: Without a doubt, "the Right Thing to Do". Though, "Dozen Ways of Parenting Midoriya Izuku" and my Purge: the Stain Zine piece (free zine being released on halloween!) certainly come close. (Honorary mention for "Vaulting the Vaulter", which is a series I love in its entirety)

Fic you were nervous to post: I... Don't recall one. I'm sure there had to be one- OH I remember! "Hear the Bells Ring"! I was a little nervous about this one, because it's a "Shirakumo Oboro did not die but transition, becoming Fukukado Emi" fic. But the reception had been pretty positive, so.

How do you chose your titles? More often than not, it's just the first thing that pops into my head. With the volume of fics produced for the Fic Fight and Writer's Month, I did not have the luxury to sit around and ruminate on titles.

Do you outline? Depends on what fic I am writing! If it's a short one (like most of the challenge ones), I don't outline. If I start outlining, it's not gonna stay within 10k, lemme tell you that much.

Complete: Technically, all of my fics are currently complete. The thing is, with the format of Fic Fight, I have quite a number of open series. Most notably, "Overhauling the System" (14 works) and "Quirkless Hero? Hop to it!" (4 works). [OtS has a long fic in the planning stages 👀]

In progress: cries in WIP ,,, comes back the next day I have kind of went to take a look at what WIPs I had going before the Fics War and Writer's Month absolutely wrecked my g.docs landing page, and then I got distracted making a spreadsheet of them.... Let me just say: A LOT

Coming soon: There is that one work (Shimura Tenko-centric) which I have been writing for a long time now... And by that I mean April this year. BUT the thing is: the last BNHA work I have written before it were the Uravity Bang entries in 2018... It wasn't even meant to be BNHA at first, just a random Original Fiction to get my writing juices flowing, and then- not only did Tenko insert himself in place of the nameless protagonist, he also stretched the fic out to 27-bleeding-k.

Recently, I have finally managed to finish it, so now I'm just letting it marinate before throwing it at beta edit and unleashing it upon the world soonish. Or i'll wait until his birthday (4th April). I hadn't decided yet :3

Not started: so, so many. I'm very enthusiastically planning three longfics, however: "Prince of Aldera", as a follow-up of Overhauling the System series, the sequel to "Of Dragons and Quirks" (which I'm almost regretting dropping for the ficfight, considering it got immediately drowned out) and a "Hero Class Civil War"-style (linked to the RogueDruid's classic) fic with an unhealthy amount of hand-related puns.

Prompts?: Do I do prompts xD Approximately 80% of my current works count (i do not have the energy to do a proper math) (actually-) (it's 77%) is based on prompts. I'm usually using the NWA prompts, when it's not related to an event (reverse bang or a week etc) but my ask box is always open for prompts! I'm just reserving the right not to write it if it doesn't spark joy, but I doubt that would happen often.

Upcoming work you're most excited about: Well, definitely my Stain Zine piece (31st October), but do keep an eye out for the Hawks Big Bang!

No pressure tags: I had to rummage around my notes and following count for those xD @dreamofmysteries @aphrodaisyacs @gentrychild @a-witch-in-endor @pocketramblr @cyber-phobia @ombreoscura @pikachuketchup1207 @hami-is-chill @orkestrations @draphrawrites @blackholeca (yes i did go through the list naming every single tumblr i could remember belonging to a writer, why do you ask)

Feel free to ignore this ping at your leisure! <3

[bubmyg]

hoodies and mail - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: college!au, f2l, so much fluff, tiny alcohol mention, part of my “ps i love you” series linked on my masterlist (takes place roughly between the parts titled “that’d suck” and “thunder” but this can be read completely independent of the series), random svt members appear again

word count: 1,554

summary: based off a request i got months ago that said “getting ready for a date, the date cancels, so yoongi takes you instead”

There was a fingerprint sized space on the surface of your eye slowly drying the longer you stared at your open phone, the recent calls list mocking you until it dimmed and then shut off completely, leaving you to stare at the odd angle that was your expression in the reflection of the screen. That’s what you were going to blame the involuntary drop of liquid that suddenly dripped down the slope of your nose, anyway. 

Perhaps it was the faint imprint of Jeonghan’s contact name behind your eyelid every time you blinked that made the rustling outside your door startle you so badly. Either way, it gave you an excuse to stumble out of your trance when the grunts and banging didn’t cease after a few seconds, letting your phone clatter to your tiny kitchen table as the chair you pushed back narrowly avoided the same fate in it’s teetering. You barely thought to what it could be as you fiddled at the lock and peered into the hallway. 

The culprit wasn’t at eye level, instead crouched in front of your door with a cardboard box and a stack of two hoodies in hand. Slowly, rounded eyes peered up at you through messy fringe flattened beneath a black baseball cap while pink lips parted into a tiny circle. One hoodie fell to the floor, unfurling from it’s meticulously folded position when Yoongi stood, lips continuing to press into a pout and then round once more like a fish deprived of its habitat. 

“Sorry, I was just bringing some of your clothes that I found in my laundry and then Chan sent me with a package of yours when I checked in. I was just going to leave them out here…” Yoongi trailed off, squinting at your face and he nearly dropped the box and remaining hoodie as his hand reached for your cheek, stopping inches from your skin to frown, “...angel? Are you—”

You jerked away from him, crouching to collect the warmth of his hoodie against your chest, hugging it in folded arms as you straightened to say stiffly, “Come on. Come inside.”

“I didn’t know Chan had the authority to hand out my mail now,” You tried to punctuate the dry sentence with a laugh to show you were kidding, rounding your kitchen table to adjust where your chair had been left ajar. You draped the fabric in your embrace across the back of the chair, squeezing it as you squinted at Yoongi, “This is your hoodie, not mine.”

He’d frozen in the doorway, foot still half in his athletic slide. Softly, he chided, “I haven’t worn that hoodie since you got your grubby fingers on it. It might as well be yours.”

You continued to drag gentle fingers over the fabric, smoothing it over the back of the chair until Yoongi’s voice broke into your consciousness again. He’d stepped several paces closer, enough to set the box and remaining hoodie down on the table. 

“Are you leaving for your date soon?”

“He canceled.”

Yoongi let the reasoning marinate for a second, saying simply, “Oh.”

“Did he say why?”

Something about his lab files freezing in a university computer lab and leaving him with thirty pages to redo by midnight. You believed Jeonghan. There was no reason not to. You shared mutual friends. You’d studied with him in the singular STEM class you’d been forced to take as a humanities major. There was no obligation for him to tell you any sooner than thirty minutes before he was supposed to pick you up. There was no obligation for him to make it up to you either. It’d been a partial joke when you’d matched on a dating app anyway, something for Namjoon to tease that you’d taken back your swearing off of anyone in the pre-med department. 

Maybe it was more so the disappointment of it being the first date you’d been looking forward to in a while. One canceled date with a stranger and it was no big deal. A second date that happened yet you’d rather forget the disaster of was a slight question mark. The third after months of nothing with someone you could comfortably speak to without worrying about their driving ability or political affiliation was a welcome distraction to the miniscule yearning that slowly worked its way into a golf ball sized hole in your heart. 

You didn’t like Jeonghan, not enough for the hole to double in size at a valid date cancellation. It was the principle of the thing. 

“You didn’t come over here just to bring me hoodies, did you?” You spoke the inquiry quietly at the conclusion of your answer to his question. 

Yoongi smiled gently, touching the back of his neck. Pink had started to gather on the apples of his cheeks. “You hadn’t shared your location with me yet. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay. Best friend intuition...”

“I’m fine,” You said it with conviction to try to convince the rest of you that it was the case. Your fingers gripped a bit tighter to the Yoongi-hoodie covered furniture piece below you, adding, “Safe and sound at home.”

“Would you like to go somewhere? I bet I could still get a reservation for that Italian place you like,” Yoongi spoke carefully, giving you the chance to decline. 

You did, quietly, letting your chin drop as you shook your head, “No, that’s okay.” Your fingers picked at the hem of the skirt you’d picked out, considering the chill that now spread across your bare skin, “I think I’m going to go change and just hang out here—”

Yoongi didn’t hear the end of your sentence, turning on his heel to stalk into your kitchen. You stood, dumbfounded, while the grunt of Yoongi stretching and the clatter of pots and pans could be heard. He only reappeared again, eyes shadowed under the bill of his cap while a fluffy cheek pressed into the door frame, to ask, “Do you have any heavy cream?” 

You gave vague directions to the contents in your fridge before shuffling for him, “What are you doing?”

He held out a hand, stopping you a few paces from him. Lips pressed in on the dimples in his cheeks as he tilted his head, “Thought you were going to go change?”

“I…” You frowned, “I asked you a question first.”

The hovering hand jerked, a hesitation, before it touched you this time, settling on the side of your neck while his thumb stroked underneath your jaw. 

“I’m making you dinner,” Yoongi said like it was the simplest thing in the world, “Go get comfy, if you want. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“I...I’m okay,” You had to physically restrain yourself from leaning after him when he retracted his hand, “I’ll help you—”

“No. I’m making you dinner,” He beamed, gums and all, “Your order will be right out.”

You shook your head, a lingering smile exchanged between the two of you as he took backward steps into the depth of your kitchen. Only when you turned, fingers fist in the fabric of your skirt did Yoongi speak again. 

“Hey, angel?”

You turned, chin on your shoulder with a raised eyebrow. 

More pink curled into his skin, shadowed a hue darker from his cap that he shoved tighter to his head. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Admittedly, there was a bit of wine in your system, but your thought process was wholly sober, just as the tight snuggle against Yoongi’s side was. You’d shrugged on one of his, your, hoodies after dinner and he’d shrugged a fuzzy throw blanket from your hall closet over your figures. Nothing, however, warmed you quite like the steady pattern of his breaths to his heartbeat at close proximity. 

You felt Yoongi shift next to you but his thumb didn’t stop skimming the sensitive skin underneath your knee. The program on the television was the least of your worries, volume two notches up and the subtitles forgotten but Yoongi murmured anyway, “For what?”

“For a wonderful date,” Part of you froze when the word came out of your mouth and you tried to play it off by freezing the latter half of your being. You didn’t move until he laughed breathily above you, shoulders shaking. 

“A date, huh?”

“Mmhm,” You hoarded his arm a bit closer to set your cheek against his chest, “You didn’t have to stay.”

“I wanted to,” He’d forgotten his cap on the opposite couch cushion, fluffy fringe tickling your skin when he bent to let his lips touch your forehead. In the ambiance, you heard him swallow, and his voice dropped a tender octave, “I’d take you on a million more dates, if you wanted.”

Your heart stuttered into your throat, jostled with the weight of that golf ball sized hole being filled in with the weight of a realization that wasn’t quite so new to you. You let yourself lift your gaze, dislodging his lips from your skin, and he instead settled the tip of his nose to the space between your eyebrows, wrinkling the skin around the bridge comically until you laughed. 

“Careful,” You hushed when Yoongi’s smile finally settled into something fond down at you, “I might take you up on that offer.”

[priyankaraa]

Daddy||T.H

Pairing: Dom!Tom Holland × Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut(18+), Teasing, Thigh Riding, Orgasm Denial, Oral(Female receiving), Use of Sex Toy, Bondage, Unprotected sex.

Summary: After Tom sees the edit of him with the song Daddy by Blueface he wants Y/N to call him daddy. She says no so he tries to convince her with sex. He gets dominant.

A/N:This might get a little kinky and dominating. I've looked through my drafts and realised that I have a lot of smut. This is probably the dirtiest and most detailed smutt that I have ever written. It took me two days, so I hope you'll enjoy and thanks for the follows and likes.🖤

You and Tom had been dating for about two years now. So far everything has been good. You'll have had your ups and downs, there were even times when you thought it was over for good but you'll kept going back. You'll were at a point where you'll needed each other to love and not just for great sex, that was a bonus too. The both of you were still too young to get hitched but you'll were in a serious relationship.

The sex hadn't been coming recently. You both have been preoccupied, Tom had filming and you had finals. You were determined to get your degree in Marine Biology no matter what. You were a go getter. Nothing brought you down in life. The week ended quicker than expected and you found yourself lounging in Tom's flat scrolling through your Instagram. Tom was out shopping so you were alone with Tessa, being bored as fuck. You were never really a fan of Instagram although your are a pro at using it compared to Tom.

You heard the door open and close and Tom trodded inside carrying a few packets. You didn't go with him because you hated shopping, unless its clothes shopping and then too, you always ended up buying the whole shop. You had a little problem.

"Hey babe." He pressed a quick innocent kiss to your check before he started to unpack the groceries. One thing that you loved about Tom was that he was a gentleman. He never pressurised you into sex or anything of that sort. He understood your beliefs. You weren't a virgin. You have had sex before with Tom but that was when the two of you got really drunk and had no idea what you'll were doing. You still remembered how many times he apologised. Ever since that day you haven't drank alot. You do have a really low tolerance on alcohol.

You continued to scroll through your Instagram, following a few of Tom's fan accounts before exiting and walking over to the kitchen. You sat yourself down on one of the barstools and watched as Tom gracefully moved around the kitchen putting the groceries in their respectful places.

"I got of the phone with my mum earlier. She said that the family wants to come over for lunch tomorrow." You adored how much Tom got along with your family, all except your dad. Your father didn't like Tom. He always claimed that he had other intentions with his little girl. You loved Tom alot and he loved you too. Your father was just being over protective.

"I don't mind." You heard your phone vibrate and picked it up thinking it was your mum but instead it was a notification from Instagram. You opened the app and watched the video on your phone. It was an edit of Tom and the song, Daddy by Blueface created an even sexier effect. The video alone was enough to get your panties wet. You squeezed your thighs together hoping that your beloved boyfriend hadn't noticed your flustered state.

"What ya watching, love?"

"It's an edit of you." You passed him your phone and he watched it. You saw the way he tensed and gulped when he heard the song. You knew that something was going on in that head of his. He handed you back your phone and you placed it on the counter.

"Can you call me daddy?" Tom's question made you burst out laughing. "Wait, are you serious?" You asked him as he actually looked serious. He nodded in response. Of all the dumb things that Tom has done, this took the cake and you once saw him put a shirt on while doing a handstand.

"Sorry honey but that's not going to happen." You slid of the bar chair and planted your feet firmly on the floor. You turned and walked into your shared bedroom. You knew that Tom wouldn't give up so easily and he followed you into the room.

He pulled you towards him and your back hit the door. He boxed you in by placing his hands on either side of your head against the door. You scanned his body and noticed his hard on poking through his sweats. You pulled your bottom lip into the grasp of your teeth and looked thin straight in his eyes. They were dark and filled with lust.

"Call me daddy!" His voice was low, a growl emitted from the back of his throat. His deep voice laced with lust and want made your knees go weak.

"No." You said just as seductively, challenging him by looking him straight in the eyes. You watched as his pupils twinkled in the light, you thought that was humanely impossible yet here it is happening. Unbelievable, I know.

"Then, I'll give you a reason to." He smashed his lips on yours knocking the air out of your lungs. His hand gripped your hip pulling your body flush with his as your hands looped around his neck.

His tongue was already inside of your mouth, in swift motions exploring every inch. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth biting down a little, making you moan out his name.

"By the time I'm done with you, you'll be calling me daddy." His hands roamed down the side of your body tracing over your curves. He squeezed the underside of your thighs making your wrap your legs around his waiste. He gave your firm butt a tight squeeze before walking over the bed and placing you on it.

He hovered over you, taking a moment to admire how pink and swollen your lips had become. Ever since he met you, all he wanted to do was see those plump lips of yours wrapped around his dick. He wanted you on your knees with your thighs spread a little, sucking his cock while playing with yourself. He was going to make you do all the things he has imagined and make sure that you call him daddy.

He pulled off his shirt, smashing his lips back on yours not giving you a chance to look at his toned body. Your hands roamed over his back tracing every muscle as it was becoming part of your memory. You ran your hands down his back and played with the edge of his sweats, eager for him to remove it.

"Eager, are we?" He said as he stood up. "I wanna see you strip yourself." You smirked as you stood up and Tom took a seat on the bed. You removed you leggings and gave Tom a great view of your long, sexy legs. You tugged on your shirt pulling it over your head. You reached behind you and unclasped your bra. Tom's eyes watched your full breast bounce as you released them from the bra. Last but not least, you turned around and shimmied your lace thong down your legs, giving Tom the perfect view of your ass.

You picked it up and tossed it to Tom who held it to his nose and took a big sniff of your arousal on it. He moaned as the sweet scent of your wetness filled his nose. You sat down on his thigh and slowly rocked your hips back and forth on his clothed thigh.

Tom took this as an opportunity to attack your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin, leaving love bites everywhere.

"I love watching you get yourself off on my thigh." He groaned against your neck. He sucked on the delicate skin where your neck and jaw meet. He knew that was your sweet spot and the affect that had on you.

"Fuck Tommy. Your lips feel so good there." You breathed out as you continued to ride his thigh. You felt your high approaching and so did Tom. Right before you could cum he flipped you over so that he was hovering over you.

"What the fuck---" He cut you off by smashing his lips to yours. His hands trailed down your body as his lips left yours trailing open mouth kisses down your body. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, pulling it between his teeth. You arched your back pushing your body into him, felling him smirk against your boob. The things he did to you. He had no idea how crazy he made you.

He left a trail of open mouth kisses down your stomach and licked a strip just below your belly button. He leaned back on the balls of his feet admiring your hot and flustered body sprawled out against the covers. He pulled of his sweats leaving him in his skin tight boxers.

"So sexy." He growled before he smashed his lips on yours. He placed a sweet kiss on your ankle and kissed up your thighs never breaking eye contact. He came face to face with your throbbing heat, he licked his lips before devouring you. He placed a hasty kiss on your core before attaching his lips on your clit.

He lapped up your juices and enjoyed the noise of your moans combined with the sloshing juices. He hummed against your core sending vibrations throughout your body. He pushed in two fingers and pumped you and he sucked your swollen bud.

"Tommy...ah fuck...m' gonna cum." You moaned as the familiar knot in your tummy was coming. Once again he pulled away before your orgasm could hit. Now you were pissed off. This was the second time he denied your orgasm.

"What are you doing?" He walked over to the drawer on the bedside and pulled out your dark blue toy. Your cheeks flushed a dark red. You had totally forgot about that. He seductively walked over to you and turned on the toy. The sound of it vibrating made you moan.

"M' gonna punish you, baby girl. Gonna make you call me daddy while I pound into you." You watched as he pulled out a belt from his drawer and he hovered over you, kissing you. He grabbed your wrists and tied them to the head board with the belt. "No touching, Y/L/N."

He spread your legs and pressed the vibrator to your swollen bud. Your eyes rolled back as you tried to move your legs, needing to feel it more. He pressed his knees to keep your legs spread. You whimpered under him, tears pricking your eyes from the immense pleasure. You were about to cum when he pulled the vibrator away. You were fed up with his teasing. You were about to protest when he plowed into you, causing your words to get stuck in the back of your throat.

His long thick cock was buried balls deep in your folds. He pulled his dick out watching your pussy clench around sweet nothing, before he plowed back into you. Your breathing fell into a steady pattern as with his thrusts. His lips attached themselves to your neck, leaving beautiful purple marks.

"So fucking wet for me, princess. M' loving how tight you are." He snapped his hips faster and faster as the pressure between your legs grew. His cock was compressed between your warm, velvet walls. "Please. Can I touch you?" You begged him, desperate to run your fingers through his hair.

He stopped his thrusts watching you scream underneath him. "Call me daddy!" He growled. "No!" You said and he started pounding into you again. The way your boobs bounced sent him into a trance.

His hands trailed down to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in your clit. "Feels so good, Tommy." Finally, your vision got blurry as you felt a familiar feeling wash over. You came all over his dick, the warm liquid leaking down his cock and some dribbled onto his thigh. The sight made Tom drool and soon he came after, filling you up with his hot strings of come. He collapsed on top of you, your sweaty bodies sticking together.

He slowly pulled out, the combined fluids flowing out, as he laid down beside you catching his breath. You turned over and brushed back the hair that stuck to his forehead, after you wrists struggled free from his belt. He shot you a boyish grin.

"So will you call me daddy now?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Mmm. No." You rain into the bathroom and locked the door. Tom just sat on the bed chuckling.

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM RED VS. BLUE SEASON 15

“you touch my baked beans, i put dog shit in your pillowcase.” “every other person in this miserable place is literal garbage.” “books on tape? what's the appeal of that? don't the pages get stuck together?” “when in doubt use a confusing acronym. military types love acronyms.” “FML. that stands for fu--” “i’ll bend down and kiss your boots, how’s that?” “i wanna know every step you take and how much shit gets stuck on your shoes and in-between your teeth.” “you know, i think i'll probably move to LA, but that's like what everyone does. i mean, what do you think?” “i’m gonna skin your cat for this.” “i’m actually thinking of adopting a stage name.” “i’m gonna smash cut your empty skull against that rock if you don’t shut the fuck up!” “i wanted to call it desert titties, but that shit was taken.” “ah, there goes the bechdel test.” “you should interview the illuminati!” “real talk here: i'll be your genie in a bottle, i'll do whatever you want, but after i grant you your three wishes, you gotta do something for me, whaddaya say?” “my ceaseless existence is an eternal torment!” “next time he calls you please, just, let it go to voicemail. don't transfer to me. okay?” “i can’t even hear myself think in this blizzard of idiocy!” “did you attempt to witness any other particular individuals in the general vicinity of the area in which the crime scene was alleged?” “i just wanna be included!” “funny, the vultures usually show up after the slaughter.” “you’re a little bit crazy, aren’t you? i like that.” “consequences... don't always take the shape we expect them to, do they? they're funny like that.” “...are we still married?” “people are quick to jump to conclusions. they see something, or hear something, and fit it into a preconceived emotional box.” “please don’t make me regret what i’m about to tell you.” “whoa, hold up--i just realized how much i don’t care.” “SUCK IT, NEWTON!” “we said we wouldn’t talk about that!” “help me be the best at being lazy.” “it was a simple mishap with my vanilla-satin scented candles!” “why is he naked?” “HOW DO YOU BURN DOWN A WATER PARK, ___?!” “we’re definitely not just saying that because she could kill us.” “for far too long our people have been oppressed, crushed, under the weight of ourselves! if we don't start standing up to our mortal foe gravity, by god, who will?” “we’ve never needed intelligence before!” “why doesn’t anybody die and stay dead?” “oh, cool! foreshadowing.” “who wants a poisoned pumpkin frappuccino?” “i quit. i’m not going. i’m staying here.” “you’ve always been selfish, but this is bullshit!” “you know, i liked them better when they were funny.” “it’s a bop-it.” “sleep. means. death!” “i know ___ said we should split up, but i was thinking maybe we split up together, you know, because it's scary!” “you talk about ___ a lot.” “this is a big city. so many places for snakes to hide. they could be everywhere all around us. watching us... licking their snake lips...” “jesus, doesn’t anybody speak esperanto?” “err is not a word.” “why do you look alone?” “why don't you tell us what's going on, and we can decide whether to kill you or not?” “looks like we've got quite the sticky mess on our hands!” “oh, i know all about sausage parties! uh, wait, that came out wrong.” “when I least expect it: whambo! you pry open my mind prison and suck out my brain beans!” “i realize now that i’ve just spilled all my brain beans.” “we're just a bunch of dumb rejects hurling ourselves against impossible odds.” “i’m only saying something because i’ve been used enough times in my life already.” “nice! super awesome of you guys! that was sarcastic.” “don’t care. just help me with my dramatic exit.” “that's a great idea! i was just about to suggest it.” “i always say a marine without a code is like a car without a road.” “i always say the best defense is a really tall fence.” “i always say a good soldier is like a rollin’ boulder.” “i always say a mantra a day keeps death at bay.” “i've grown soft around these uncultured philistines.” “goddamn, i can’t believe i have to hear this shit in stereo now.” “you two look cozy.” “i didn’t realize you two were close.” “you’re being too hard on yourself. you’ve changed over the years, i’ve seen it myself.” “i've grown from being a dishonorable killing machine to an honorable killing machine. that's quite the journey.” “i changed my mind. you are evil.” “you don’t have to destroy the past to have a future.” “strategizing can wait until breakfast, at least.” “i killed them. i MURDERED them. i set my vengeance free upon them and it felt so good!” “are we gonna do some snooping around?” “have you ever considered a life in showbusiness?” “try harder, fuckface!” “can we please just bury the hatchet and focus on what's important?” “your mother’s lasagna is mediocre!” “if you guys had to get shot somewhere in your body, where would you do it?” “i can't hear you because some idiot shot my ear off!” “this whole situation is garbage enough to begin with, but... at least we're in it together.” “no plan survives first contact with the enemy.” “the only thing that would make this better is some music.” “we were pawns in their game. but the thing that I love about chess is that sometimes pawns kill kings.” “no, actually, i was raised by wolves. in the forest.” “sometimes i feel like people barely acknowledge my presence.” “something weird might be going on around here.” “anyone who's acting that squeaky clean must have some deep dark secrets.” “ha! gotcha! that's exactly the kind of things bad guys say!” “they used us, they destroyed our lives, and they haven't been made to pay for what they've done.” “you obviously love the sound of your own voice, so why don't you use it to tell its where the fuck our friends are?” “i’m going to kill you so hard, you’ll wish you were dead.” “we fought alongside each other for fucking years. how can you just turn your backs on us like this?” “you don't get to give orders if you're on the bad guys' side!” “now I have gonorrhea and a dead friend.” “stop. touching. my face.” “buckets! oodles! oodles of noodles and toaster strudels! tiempo de mucho. mucho de tiempo!" “yeah, well, i don't remember you being anything but a huge dick, but here you are being cool, so people change.” “yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers!” “but.. i never got to say goodbye. or thank you for being my friend.” “i'm gonna need a week at the chiropractor when we get out of here.” “is it possible to hallucinate with your ears?” “i’m not here to kill you.” “uh-oh spaghetti-o’s.” “fuck me! fuck all of this!” “you should totally kill me if it strikes your fancy! no pressure!” “the world's best swordsman doesn't fear the second best. He fears the worst, because he can't predict what the idiot will do.” “i can't imagine us doing anything but making this all worse.” “shit, dude! you’re the best we’ve got!” “i like pushing small children down wells.” “can we please settle on a consistent denomination? are we using cardinal directions or are we using clock positions?” “i'm so sneaky. they don't even know what's happening. you can't even see me right now, ___. you're so confused.” “shut up and help me punch this fucking tank!” “as far as days to die go, it's a little overcast. so let's check our corners and make these bastards pay!” “let's light the fires and kick the tires!” “let’s dance with these monkeys and give ‘em what for!” “let's put the pedal to the metal and the rubber to the road!” “let’s get jiggy with it!” “let’s shoot this monkey full of heroin and put it on youtube! actually, let's not do that, it sounds completely horrible.” “let’s teach these midgets how to tango!” “honor, schmonor.” “scout's honor! except I was never a scout because I'm afraid of badges.” “why are we here?” “we don't know why we're here. it's still one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?” “i’m sorry i tried to kill you, it wasn’t personal!” “you'll be stuck between a rock and the frying pan.” “if i said that i would weep for them, would it make you feel any better?” “best friends should be able to say goodbye.” “i think you are cool. like, super awesome, amazing, cool and... i, i always felt like really awesome too, when we were hanging out together.” “i know with my other friends--who, even if you add them all up together aren't really cool as you--i know we're all gonna be okay.” “if you kill me, you'll just perpetuate this never-ending cycle of revenge and retaliation!” “he asked us to deliver an important message to you all. but then he just sang the ducktales theme song and fell back to sleep.” “you know i’ll never forget this, right? i mean, PTSD is forever, isn’t it?” “it’s not the sum of your parts that makes you who you are.” “these people have shown me that real heroes are not born, they're forged. a friend told me once that there's no fate but what you make. and i think he's right.” “alright, well, i'm just gonna try to forget that ever happened and never bring it up again.”

[927roses-and-stuff]

Miracles in Gotham Chapter 5: Tales of the Misguided Serpent

I really am sorry it's taking more than five chapters for them to actually get to Gotham, by the way. I know most fics will usually have them there by the first chapter. I just like having a lot of build up for the plot and future subplots, so please bear with me!TW: Explicit minor character death and violence in war. Mentions of PTSD, depression, anxiety, and self-harm. 

Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading this story and (hopefully) enjoying it so far! I realize I don’t say it enough, but I truly appreciate everyone who took the time to read this fic, and knowing that there are people who enjoy it are part of my inspiration to write more. As always, an extra thank you to @ozmav for the AU, and @mystery-5-5 for helping me through the writing process (and dealing with my rants).

There will be mentions and allusions to real life events and locations associated with World War II. I don’t mean any disrespect, and any character mentioned and associated within the story is purely fictional. This is not meant to be an accurate depiction of WWII or war in general, nor is it meant to be a mockery of what actually happened. There will also be brief mentions of PTSD, depression, and anxiety symptoms and self-harm. These are all based on research from sources that my therapist has given me (i.e. Centre for Clinical Interventions) and my own personal experiences. 

Lastly, Alfred is in his mid-teens here (because he would fake his age to get into the army) and he isn’t the all wise and knowing Alfred Pennyworth we know and love just yet. And we all know how Master Fu loves giving Miraculous to unqualified, unprepared owners XD. 

P.S. Not me making Sass oblivious to human stuff because I don’t know a lot of war stuff. 

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.

Tag list: : @northernbluetongue @zerotosiki @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn

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“Tell me everything you know about this Alfred Pennyworth and your time with him, Sass. I need to know if he can help before considering everything.” 

The snake kwami merely nodded. “Of course, my Guardian.”

“Alfred Pennyworth was one of the best snakelets I have ever known, even if in the end, he did not believe so. If given the time, perhaps, he could have mastered the Snake Miraculous in all of its power, despite his young age. I think he would’ve been only a year or two older than yourself...” 

August 1943, Northwest Europe

“Alfred Pennyworth, I am Sass, kwami of the Snake Miraculous, of Intuition. I will grant you the powers of Second Chance, so long as you promise to use your powers for good.” 

The snake kwami held out his hands gracefully as he finished introducing himself to his new owner. The current Guardian had told him of his duties before he was handed to the young man in front of  him. In times of war, a little intuition could go a long way. 

As Alfred continued to remain unresponsive, Sass began to worry. Alfred Pennyworth was a young man with sharp eyebrows and dark, piercing eyes dressed in a camouflage dark-green military uniform complete with the green beret covering his scalp . Sass noticed the tiny tremors of his shoulders and his tightly pressed lips,  although it would be unnoticeable to the untrained eye. They were in a dimly lit room, although it was strangely quiet for times of war, as the Guardian had relayed to him. 

It had been perhaps the strangest experience that Sass had encountered with a human, although he didn’t have that many to rely on. The young man continued to stare at Sass, and in all his infinite patience, Sass floated in place, and entered a meditative pose above the box he had just come out of.  From the little he knew of humans, they were often slow, narrow-minded creatures who needed more patience than most kwamis were willing to give. 

However, despite the strangeness of it all, Sass felt a warm kinship with the still man in front of him. 

Sass was unsure of how long it had taken for Alfred to be shaken out of his stupor, but he soon closed the box carefully and addressed him. 

“Hello. You’re the friend Mr. Fu told me of?” He asked hesitantly. 

“Yesss,” Sass nodded. “Master Fu is the current Guardian of the Miraculous. You must be someone special for him to entrust you with me, and me with you.” 

Alfred nodded slightly. “Yes, he mentioned that you would help me in my times of need.” 

“That is correct.” 

Sass watched as the young man bit his lip in thought and lightly traced over the marks on the box. “Sass, was it?” 

“Yesss.” 

“...I am Alfred Pennyworth.” 

“I am aware.” 

He looked up from the box and lightly cupped Sass in his hands. Alfred’s eyes squinted at him, his eyes roaming over his tiny form suspiciously. Sass stayed still for him, not feeling uncomfortable at the human’s scrutiny. Humans were suspicious of the unknown, Sass decided. They were wary even when there was evidence to say otherwise. 

When Alfred seemed satisfied, he spoke again. “Why would Mr. Fu give me a tiny snake?” 

Sass frowned. “I may be tiny, human, but I am powerful. With the bracelet you hold in that box, you will be able to turn back time for an unlimited amount of times within an allotted 5 minutes after the first reset. With my help, you are able to directly change events around you as they happen, for as much as you wish.” 

The young man’s eyes widened and gulped; Sass was unable to determine if it was out of terror or fascination. 

“Why would he entrust me with such a power?” 

“The Guardian’s mind works in mysterious ways. Perhaps, he wanted to give you a chance to see in yourself, what he saw in you.” 

His breath hitched, and he gulped again. “And what if I don’t like what I see?” 

Sass floated upwards to meet Alfred’s eyes. Yellow eyes met dark brown as he spoke. “That will all depend on you.” 

For the next few months, Sass watched as Alfred Pennyworth trained with his fellow soldiers as part of the Achnacarry in Scotland and eventually recruited to the No. 47 (Royal Marine) Commando based in Dorchester once the new year came. It had been the longest that Sass had interacted with any of his holders. He took to hiding in the pockets of Alfred’s uniform, although he often wished he had another place to hide when Alfred and the other humans were training with ringing, deafening gunshots,  the thundering footsteps of a hundred men caused tremors within the soil, and the hoarse shouts and screams of soldiers in a stimulated battlefield. When the soldiers were off-duty, Sass liked the chatter as Alfred and the others conversed with one another, their different tones whether morose or jovial, since it helped him drift off to sleep in Alfred’s warm pocket. 

In what little downtime that they had, Alfred liked to ask Sass questions about the Miraculous, what they did, their purpose in the world, the limits of his own Miraculous, and always, why he was chosen to bear such a great responsibility. Sass always told him what he could (although being inactive for so long left him little knowledge of other holders), and always repeated what he had told Alfred the first day they met. Sass liked being with Alfred. He was intelligent, curious, logical, and sensitive to information. Despite the grim circumstances that surrounded their partnership, he was glad that Master Fu had chosen Alfred Pennyworth.

It had been nearly a year since Sass and Alfred met when the No. 47 Commando received their first operation on June 6, 1944. Alfred often told him stories at night of his family, his home, and his surroundings. The night before as they were preparing for battle, Alfred had shared his worries with his fellow soldiers and Sass. It would be the first time they would be in a real battle, outside of Achnacarry or Dorchester. As the Commando arrived at the battlefield the day after, all the soldiers were crammed onto a ship. It had only taken a few hours to arrive at the outskirts of where they needed to be. Only a few miles from the shore, and already the sounds of battle rang throughout the ships, and the soldiers prepared to join in. Some would join as soon as the ship hit shore while others would stay behind to make sure that their ship didn’t sink and attack the opposing army from the water. Alfred was one of the soldiers that would be fighting the moment they hit shore, so he made sure to find an empty space to transform. Sass found himself and Alfred cramped near the ship’s engine, where Alfred was already fiddling with the Snake Miraculous. 

“I won’t look like a circus act when I transform, will I, Sass?” 

Sass shook his head. “No. Make sure to imagine yourself as you are, and the Miraculous will conform to your desires. You might find that your clothes will feel scaly as a side effect. Either way, your clothes will protect you from most impacts, although I’m not sure about bullets.” 

Alfred smiled. “I see. Will I be able to talk to you when I’m transformed?” 

“No.”  Alfred’s eyes widened. “Fear not. I will still be with you, as a part of you, but we will not be able to interact as we are now nor will I be conscious when you are transformed.”

Alfred took a shaky breath. “Alright. Thank you, Sass. Anything else I need to know?” 

“Use it wisely. Seeing that many possibilities will take a toll on you. You will most likely witness one moment in time in different ways. Others may not remember the other timelines, but you will. Do not forget that.” 

Alfred gave a curt nod. “This is it, then?” 

“Yessss, I wish you luck, Alfred.” 

“As do I,” he chuckled. “Sass, scales slither.” 

As Alfred called out the last words, Sass faded into unconsciousness. He had faith in Alfred, and hoped he would work well with the Snake. 

______________________________________________________________________________

When Alfred de-transformed, Sass noticed the light in his eyes and the way he clutched tightly onto two soldiers a few years older than him. The battle was over for now, Sass mused, so Alfred must be relieved that he was safe and alive. Later in the safety of his barrack, Alfred recounted the battle in hushed whispers, how many times he went back to save just one more life (“To think, who might’ve remained dead if you were not with me,” he said, rubbing Sass’ head affectionately with his finger), or to take one more shot he missed the first time. Sass asked him the precise number of times that he went back in time during those allotted 5 minutes that he had used “Second Chance.” Sass asked him who he had saved, how, and whose lives were lost in return. Alfred answers both questions enthusiastically with a significant amount of detail, that Sass allowed himself to feel content. Alfred had saved lives, had done his part for his country.

Sass was proud of his snakelet. 

As time went on, battles were waged and the war raged on all over Europe. Sass didn’t understand human battles, but he made sure to stay by Alfred’s side for all of it. 

It was about half a year in that Sass noticed the changes that Alfred is going through. Like every soldier, he is marred with scars, had a more gaunt, more sickly frame that came from eating smaller rations and sleeping less, and dark circles under his eyes that emphasized how haunted he was. Yet, Sass noticed that Alfred was overextending himself. In every offense, Alfred volunteered to be in the frontlines. In every battle, he took the time to transform, which meant Sass was also often exhausted after every battle and struggled to eat the already miniscule portions Alfred spared from his rations. After every battle, Alfred was jumpy, going from soldier to soldier and striking up conversation whenever he could, visiting the infirmary and muttering apologies to the wounded soldiers. It took Sass a while to realize that the former had been people he had saved, and the latter were the people that he couldn’t or those that he almost hadn’t.

Nights were always the worst. In the daytime with the rush and hustle of war battles, there was not a lot of time for Alfred to do anything but act and fight, especially when he transformed with Sass. But at night, when there was a semblance of silence in his own corner of the barracks, Sass comforted Alfred through the tears, the nightmares, the bloodshed, and other horrors he witnessed. When Sass couldn’t comfort him, Alfred retreated to the arms of Leo Dupain, a soldier a few years older who knew of Alfred’s real age, and the person who Alfred recounted saving the most during his resets. He had sandy brown hair, olive green eyes, a square-like jaw with a hooked nose that looked like it had been broken at least once. Sass listened to their hushed promises of returning to the motherland and settling down somewhere in the countryside far away from the influences of war and its politics. Sass watched as both Alfred and Leo drifted to sleep, holding each other like they were each other’s only anchor to the physical realm. Sass watched as Alfred woke a half hour before the crack of dawn to visit the infirmary before beginning his training, never looking back. Each time, Sass noticed that Leo searched for warmth that had previously been there.

Sass knew that witnessing all of Time’s possibilities was a heavy burden for anyone, much less a child. Alfred related to him about comrades who had died from gunshots, from being trampled on, or thrown overboard. If not them, it was the patients in the infirmary, the ones who had fallen trap to insanity or those who had lost a part of their physical bodies forever. Alfred was inconsolable. By December of 1944, Alfred had anxiety, insomnia, and an unhealthy attachment to the Snake Miraculous.

During that time, Sass tried to teach Alfred how to be more responsible with the Snake’s power, how to use each return more efficiently, and especially, how Alfred didn’t need to use the Miraculous for every injury that his comrades endured. Sass had relayed stories of other Miraculous heros: Heracles, Hippolyta, Joan of Arc, others unrecorded in history who had struggled to learn the same lesson: that Alfred was not a god and he couldn’t save everyone. 

But war was brutal and without mercy, especially to those with kind hearts.

Everything came to a head when Alfred failed to save Leo Dupain before he could reset. Sass was thrown onto the ground as the transformation wore off, gunshots blazing in the background as Alfred’s screams pierced his tiny ears. Sass slowly shuffled to Alfred’s side, and climbed into a nearby pocket.

“Leo, Leo!” Alfred cried, grabbing the heavy body of Leo Dupain, whose leg had been blown off by a nearby explosive. Blood spilled forth from the wound, and Leo breathed in shallow gasps, as his body became limp. Alfred was soon covered in his blood and from the dust and dirt around them. Frantically, he tried to find spare cloth but was futile in his efforts. Sass could feel the tremors from Alfred’s body as he held onto Leo Dupain like a lifeline. Other soldiers had heard his cries and clambered to them, grabbing Alfred forcefully out of Leo’s arms and into safety,

“He needs me! Stop! I need to save him!”

“Leg’s been blasted off, can’t do much for ‘im now but fight,” a soldier- Gabriel Ackles- muttered. He had been one of the soldiers Alfred saved a week earlier from a headshot.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Alfred ranted hysterically. “I was supposed to save him; he wasn’t supposed to get hurt. He’s going to die…”

SLAP

Alfred stood stunned as Gabriel stood before him, red-faced and fuming.

“We are in battle, soldier! Get it together! You wanna help Dupain, Pennyworth?!” Gabriel didn’t wait for an answer before shoving a long gun of sorts into Alred’s hands. “You go out there and drag every Nazi motherfucker to hell or die trying! You got it, soldier?!” 

Sass watched as Alfred’s eyes dimmed into a stormy grey and stared at the gun in his hands. A second passed and with trembling hands, Alfred was marching back onto the battlefield, gun ablaze. Sass tried hard as he could to use whatever remaining energy he had to protect Alfred, but the amount of resets during Alfred’s transformation had exhausted him and he fell unconscious to the sounds of war.

When Sass regained consciousness, it was to Master Fu’s face. A chill ran down his spine as he fluttered around frantically searching for Alfred. They were in an empty room that only had a few books, two futons and the Miracle Box. There were two double doors that separated their room from the outside world and another, smaller door that led to the rest of the building. 

Where were they? Why was he here? More importantly, where was Alfred?

“Do not bother, Sass,” Master Fu said in a tone more morose than he had ever heard. “Mr. Pennyworth has returned you to me. It has been several months since you were inactive.”

Sass deflated and floated down to the ground beneath him. “Where is he now, Master?”

“I am unsure.” Master Fu looked out of the large double doors. “I am afraid that I have placed too many expectations on young Alfred. When he helped us escape London, I had given you to him as a token of gratitude and friendship.”

“Master?”

Master Fu sighed and turned back to look at Sass with teary eyes. “I could not have foreseen that I had cursed more than blessed him, Sass. He had refused to give you back at first, and it was only yesterday, a month since I last saw him, that you had returned to us.”

Sass couldn’t speak. He had really liked Alfred Pennyworth. He was a good man- one of the best. But, even he couldn’t deny the madness he had endured during his time as one of his snakelets. If kwami had hearts, Sass knew it would be obliterated by the news.

“I see, Master,” was all Sass said before Master Fu renounced him and his Miraculous.

Present day

“And that was the last I heard of Alfred Pennyworth. The next time I appeared in this realm, it was to Luka Couffaine.”

Marinette wiped away a few tears that had sprung up during Sass’ story.

“Do you think he would have anything to do with the Miraculous after all he’d been through, Sass?”

Sass bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Perhaps. He had many questions I could not answer. I am not sure if his trauma overrode his curiosity. I know he had been planning on studying the Miraculous more before Leo Dupain had died.”

Marinette played with her hands as she mulled over Sass’ response. Something about his story caught her attention.

“Leo Dupain? As in my granduncle, Leo Dupain?” 

Sass blinked, yellow eyes trained on her. “Perhaps.” 

“If they're the same person, then he’s still around,” Marinette mused, thinking of the one-legged elder from her early childhood that made her laugh with his silly jokes and warm cuddles. “I never really kept up with him since my grandfather kept us away from Papa’s side of the family. He was funny, though.”

Marinette entered a silent trance, going over all the new information she had received so far, while the kwamis waited with bated breaths. Alfred Pennyworth had deeper ties with her than she had previously thought. In another world, he would’ve been another distant granduncle. However, would she risk going to him in this world when the Miraculous had already scarred him so deeply? But what if he didn’t know about her granduncle? What if he spurned her away despite that? What if he didn’t? What had Master Fu seen in Alfred Pennyworth that he had practically given away one of the Miraculous to his care? How would she explain everything that had happened since their last argument?

What other choices did Marinette really have?

“Marinette?” Tikki asked, the only kwami comfortable enough to break her train of thought.

She sighed, not liking her decision one bit, but she was desperate, and in some ways, this would be beneficial for both Alfred Pennyworth and her.

“Looks like we’re going to Gotham City.”

______________________________________________________________

I really am sorry it's taking more than five chapters for them to actually get to Gotham, by the way. I know most fics will usually have them there by the first chapter. I just like having a lot of build up for the plot and future subplots, so please bear with me!

[breanime]

Can I request the " forgetting about an event " with Billy with him being the one forgetting pleaaseee

I decided to make this fluffy because I feel like every other time I’ve done this storyline, it’s been angsty. So I made this Dad!Billy. I hope you like it!

“Dad! Dad! Daaaaad!”

Billy sat up, eyes immediately landing on his son. Luca was standing at the side of the bed, his dark eyes glaring at Billy. “Jesus…” Billy grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Hey, buddy, what’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No,” he answered, still glaring, “it’s morning time. The sun is up, Dad.”

“Oh,” Billy flopped back onto the bed. You were already up, probably in the kitchen with Emmy. “Well what’s up, son?”

“It’s already 10 o’clock!”

Billy sighed. Luca had how to tell time and all of the months in a year, and now he was like the family’s living calendar. “It’s Saturday,” he reminded him, eyes already closing again, “We sleep in on Saturdays.”

“Daaad,” Luca sighed out, “It’s not just Saturday! It’s Mommy’s birthday!”

Billy shot up again. “Shit!”

“That’s a bad word, Dad,” Luca deadpanned, a Russo in every way.

“Right, my bad,” Billy said as he got up, “Sorry.”

“Did you forget to get the cake?” Luca asked, crossing his arms.

“I just need to pick it up,” Billy said, pulling on a pair of jeans, “You wanna come with?”

Luca put his little chin in his little hand. “I probably should,” he reasoned, “to make sure you get Mommy the right cake.”

Billy rolled his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips as he pulled on a shirt. “Wanna see if your sister wants to come too?” He asked.

Luca grinned, turning and running to the kitchen to get Emmy. A few minutes later, Billy walked into the kitchen, dressed and ready to go. He smiled when he saw you, the birthday girl, his wife, the mother of his children. You were pregnant, and your only demand for your birthday had been a cake. Billy ordered it in advance, but to be honest, the pre-birthday sex the two of you had the night before kind of pushed every other item on the agenda list back, so… Thank goodness Luca reminded him that he still had to pick up the cake.

“Hey,” Billy greeted you with a kiss, “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling as he held you to him, “The kids say you guys are going on an errand?”

“Just real quick,” he answered, grinning as Luca and Emmy winked at him from behind you, “Won’t take long.”

“Okay,” you said, stretching the word out, “I wonder what you guys are up to…”

The kids giggled, running over to Billy and taking his hands. “We’ll be right back, Mommy,” Luca promised, “Stay right where you are!”

“Right here?” You asked, freezing in the kitchen.

“Yes!” They both answered.

Billy kissed your cheek as he grabbed his keys. “Don’t follow us,” he teased.

“Yeah, Mommy, no tracking us!” Emmy agreed.

“We’ll know if we’re being watched,” Luca added, “We’re Marine strong!”

Billy strapped the kids into their car seats and headed to the bakery. Luca and Emmy kept him entertained as they told him about all the art projects they’d made for you for your birthday before breaking out into a birthday song they “wrote” for you (it was just “Hakuna Matata” with the words “I love you, Mama” instead). When they got to the bakery, the chefs were so charmed by the little Russos, they threw in four cupcakes and a small bag of macaroons in for free.

“Our Mommy,” Emmy said, rocking back and forth on her tippy toes as Billy paid for the cake and left a hefty tip, “is the most beautifulest woman in the whole wide world—even more beautiful than Auntie Karen and Queen Elsa—and it’s her birthday, but Daddy forgot!”

“I didn’t forget,” Billy said, frowning, “I just almost forgot to pick up the cake. Almost.”

“But you didn’t,” Luca said, nodding, “Cause I woke you up!” He looked up at the cashier, a proud smile on his little round face. “I know how to tell time.”

The cashier giggled, and Billy sighed, watching as she threw in two cake pops as well. The kids were gonna leave with more presents that you were getting for your birthday.

When they got back to the house, Billy heard you rushing back to the kitchen. The kids ran to greet you, and he watched, arms full of cake boxes and bags, as they hugged your legs.

“You stayed in the same spot!” Emmy giggled, astonished.

“Close your eyes,” Luca ordered, “No peeking!”

Billy snuck behind you and placed the cake and other sweets on the table behind you. He had ordered a few things to be sent to the house for your birthday—because he always spent a lot of money on presents for you and the kids, but he knew this, the pastries, were what you would love the most. Plus he had plans for you tonight—plans that involved you and him and nothing between you but skin… But for now, he’d enjoy standing back and watching you devour your cake while his offspring tore threw the cupcakes like animals.

“Okay,” Luca said once the table was set, “Open your eyes!”

You turned to the table. “Oh my gosh! This looks delicious!” You reached down and hugged the kids. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Mommy,” they said in unison.

You reached over them and pressed a quick kiss to Billy’s lips. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he said back. He pulled out your chair, kissing the top of your head once you were seated. “I think the ladies at the cake shop fell for the mini Russo’s charm.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” You asked back, smiling. “Okay, who wants a piece of cake?”

Billy picked Emmy up as Luca came to stand by your side, and as he stood with his daughter in his arms, his son beside him, and you (and the baby growing inside of you) sitting in front of him, once again, Billy could hardly believe how lucky he was.

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading!

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