#so I went to a field trip and I thought my fingers and toes were gonna fall off

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Desperate (Soap / Reader)

CW: werewolf!soap, in heat, begging, whimpering, sub!soap, blowjobs, hand jobs, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, overstimulation, dacryphilia

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 2.8K

Crickets softly chirped, their song echoing throughout the fields. My grip on my jacket tightened. With a huff, I leaned closer to the campfire. Even if it was only embers at this point, I craved the heat radiating off of the smouldering kindling. The sun had long since set, leaving a blanket of darkness in its place. 

The night air had a bite to it, the sort of chill that settled deep into my bones. I glanced down at my watch, deciding to tuck in for the night. I rose to my feet, kicking dirt at the glowing ashes. My fingertips grasped the zipper to my tent, halting when I heard an echoing call. 

It was far away, yet still loud enough to draw my attention. A low howling rolled over the landscape. My jaw clenched tight as worries flooded my mind. Biting back my anxiety, I slipped into the comfort of my tent. I tucked my aching limbs inside of my sleeping bag. 

The ground was hard, uncomfortably so. Sighing, I turned onto my side, tucking my knees to my chest. This trip was supposed to be a chance for me to “reset”, and yet it felt more like an annoyance added onto the stress of my life. I knew I’d wake up sore, my hips were already aching, craving the soft cushion of my mattress. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that my mind would ignore the growing ache in my body and fall into a deep sleep. My hands clenched into fists as pestilent thoughts swarmed my mind. 

Another howl swept across the land. It sounded closer. Maybe by only a couple of miles, but the distance was audible. I cursed under my breath, my nails biting into the palm of my hand. Sitting up, I reached out for my bag. I pulled open the front pocket, the zipper softly creaking. My fingers slipped beneath the fabric, brushing against something hard. In a hurry, I grabbed my phone. 

I squinted as the screen came to life. It was past midnight, and the battery was almost half empty. I tapped the browser icon, feverishly typing my query into the app. 

“Do wolves kill humans?”

The loading icon at the top of the screen spun, and spun. Another howl drew my attention, even closer this time. The screen went blank. No service. 

I chewed on the inside of my lip. My foot feverishly tapped away as I worked through the frantic thoughts in my head. There was no way I could feasibly run with my pack. Even bothering to nearly tuck away my belongings could be the decisive point between life and death. 

Should I start running? I felt my body freeze as I mulled over all the possibilities. Another howl, and my heart pounded in my ears. 

I slipped from the confines of my tent, shoving my feet into my shoes. A loud crack sounded, this time only a hundred feet or so away. My stomach dropped, nausea swelling in my throat. Soft growling echoed from the treeline. My breath grew shallow and panicked. Leaves crunched beneath my feet as I stepped back. 

Turning on my heel, I stepped forward, breaking out into a sprint. The wind whipped through my hair. Goosebumps crept across my skin as the night air nipped at my skin.

I dodged past trees and shrubbery. Thorns sliced my skin as I pushed through patches of bramble. I squinted my eyes, glancing over my shoulder. My ears began to ring as hypoxia slowly settled into my blood.

My lungs burned as I took in short breaths. I could feel my muscles aching as lactic acid coursed through my fibers. My body was begging me to stop, shoulder aching as my phrenic nerve sent pulsing signals through my body. I couldn��t stop, not for even a moment. Not with the footsteps trailing behind me. 

My face met the ground harshly, toes catching on a fallen tree limb. Hot tears streaked down my cheeks. I choked out a sob as I meagerly attempted to pull myself out of the debris. 

A heavy weight fell on top of me. My eyes squeezed shut, nose scrunching as I braced myself for whatever was to come. Soft grunting and panting filled my ears. Sharp nails slid beneath my hoodie, skating up my stomach. I tensed, glancing over my shoulder. 

It wasn’t a wolf, but a man who was on top of me. I felt heat rush to my face as I took in his form. Thick hair adorned his toned chest. Furry ears sprouted from the top of his head, on either side of a Mohawk. His eyes, a deep blue, seemed as if they were glazed over. A pale rosy blush settled on his cheeks. 

He shoved his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. A low groan slipped from his chest. I caught my lip between my teeth, biting down hard as he slowly rutted his hips against my jeans.  

“Stop!” I cried. With a whimper, the man sat back on his shins. His eyes never left me for a moment. I turned onto my back, propping myself up on my elbows. My eyes raked down his body, settling on the thick cock hanging from between his legs. He was hard, his flushed tip already leaking. His tail wagged, thumping against the ground with every swing. 

“Please- please I need it,” he whined, slowly stroking his cock. I pressed my thighs together, feeling heat slowly pool in my core. My body moved before I could process my actions, reaching out to grasp his thigh. A soft noise fell from his tongue. His eyes focused on my hand, watching closely as I slowly trailed my finger up his thigh. He shuddered when my fingertips skated up the length of his cock. 

“Stay still,” I ordered, wrapping my fingers around his shaft. His hips bucked into my hand, a whimper falling from his chest. His half-lidded eyes met mine, plush lips parting as I slowly stroked him. Long, drawn out whines slipped from his mouth. Every noise sounded more desperate than the last. I could feel his cock twitch in my hand, almost as if he was about to cum right then. 

He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. His tongue slid across my bottom lip. He tasted faintly of copper and musk as I parted my lips for him. With a moan, he slipped his tongue into my mouth, twirling it around my own. His hips gently rocked into my fist, matching the quick pace I’d set. Spit ran down my chin as he grunted into my mouth. 

My brows furrowed when I felt his teeth nip my bottom lip. I watched as he slowly pulled back, tugging on my lip before letting it go. His eyes flicked across my face, pupils dilating as I stroked him faster. 

“Please let me feel your mouth-” he sputtered, cradling my face with his palm. I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, biting down as I glanced at his twitching cock.

“Lay back for me,” I cooed, placing my palm against his chest. I gently pushed, urging him onto his back. He propped himself up on his elbows, eagerly watching as I settled between his legs. 

“Good boy,” I praised, pressing a kiss to his cock. He twitched, a whimper slipping from his pursed lips. I wrapped my lips around him and slowly took him into my mouth. His hips jolted forwards, pushing his length further past my lips. With a huff, I pinned his hips down with my arm. 

His tail thumped against the ground as he furiously wagged. He slid his fingers through my hair, claws scratching at my scalp. I could feel him squirming beneath my grasp while his cock twitched in my mouth. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, stroking him as I sucked on his tip. 

I took him deeper into my throat, holding my breath as I bobbed up and down on his length. Whines erupted from his chest, echoing through the thick woodland. I gently grasped his balls in my hand. I could feel him twitching, teetering on the edge of orgasm. 

“I’m so close, please let me cum-” he slurred his words as the desperation took hold of him. His hips strained against my hold, brushing against the back of my throat. “Need it so bad- so bad-”

My eyes fluttered closed, tears running down my cheeks as my nose brushed against the curls at the base of his cock. Warmth spilled down my throat, almost enough for me to choke. I gagged, swallowing around his cock. Animalistic grunts and whines left his chest as he came down my throat. With a gentle tug to my hair, he pulled me from his length. 

He was still stiff, twitching in my grasp. Slowly, I started stroking up his length again. He panted, sweat beading down his toned chest. I nuzzled my face against the base of his cock, licking over his balls. He whined, rutting his hips against my face. I parted my lips wider, wrapping them around one of his nuts. 

“Need to feel you, please let me feel you.” His fingers gripped the grass tightly, pulling at the blades. With a soft pop I pulled away to look him in the eye. I felt his gaze burning through me as I turned onto my stomach, facing away from him. I settled my weight on my knees and let my chest drop to the ground. My eyes locked with his as I glanced over my shoulder. 

“Come on, make me feel good, puppy,” I cooed, wiggling my hips. His hands were on me in a moment, gripping my thighs and my ass. He groaned, rutting his stiff cock against my jeans. His fingertips slipped beneath the hem of my jeans and tugged. My lips curled into a smile, a low laugh creeping up from my chest as his sheer desperation. My hand skated down my stomach before landing on the button at the front of my jeans. 

“So eager,” I cooed, pushing the denim over my hips. He pulled the fabric down to my knees along with my dampened underwear. He whined, leaning in to press a kiss to the back of my thigh. 

“Smell so good…” he muttered under his breath. His tongue slid up my core. I pushed my hips back against his face with a moan. He gripped my hips tight, keeping me flush against his face as his tongue flicked over my clit. 

His tongue was feverish as it worked against my body, lapping up every bit of my arousal. I pushed my cheek into the cold ground, my jaw going slack. His lips wrapped around my clit, sucking harshly. My stomach tensed, pulling tighter and tighter with every little flick. I gripped the grass beneath me, pulling the blade at their roots. My toes curled in my combat boots, leather soles squeaking under the strain. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck-“ I rutted my hips against his face, grinding against his tongue as it moved up and down my fluttering cunt. He groaned against my core, sparking jolts of electric pleasure up my spinal cord. 

He shook his head, pushing impossibly closer to my cunt. His movements grew messier, more desperate. Calculated flicks turned to frantic licks and open-mouthed kisses against my clit. He pulled my hips back against his face, the tip of his nose nudging at my entrance. 

“I’m- I’m gonna cum-” tears welled in my eyes as the pleasure burned through my stomach. Every muscle fiber contracted under his touch. My hips rocked against his tongue, guiding my body through my orgasm. Pressure swelled in the back of my eyes as they rolled into the back of my head, straining against my optic nerve. 

My chest heaved as I drew in deep breaths. I felt my body sink into the ground, muscle fibers going slack. I slowly blinked away the tears in my eyes, glancing back at the man between my legs. A small pool of cum tainted the grass. My eyes widened, a soft moan falling from my lips as I realized what had happened. 

He came just from eating me out. 

He slowly pushed inside of me. I bit down on my bottom lip, squeezing my eyes shut as he sank inside of me inch by inch. A dull burning sparked in my core as he stretched me out. My hands clenched into fists, pulling more clumps of grass from the frigid earth. 

He grunted, his hips jutting forward. The both of us stilled, panting heavily as he bottomed out. His cock head nuzzled against my cervix as he let me adjust to his girth. I moved my hips against him, shallowly at first, just enough to pull a whimper from him. 

His grip on my hips tightened, claws piercing my skin. I clenched around his cock, moaning as he rolled his hips into me. His pace was slow, hips snapping against me with every thrust. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve swore I could feel him in my guts. Every prod of his cockhead against my insides drew the air from my lungs. 

Tears streamed down my cheeks as he pushed my chest into the ground. He groaned, pistoning his hips into me with a fervor I hadn’t seen before. Every drag of his cock against my insides pushed desperate, lust-soaked moans from my mouth. 

“You feel so good, so good-” he whined. “Please, please-” 

I glanced back at him. His plush lips were parted. A string of drool spilled from the corner of his mouth. His cerulean eyes were glazed over. 

“I’m gonna cum-” he sputtered. 

“Inside, cum inside of me,” i rocked my hips against him, meeting him with every thrust. The slapping of his hips against mine echoed past the tree line. His hips stuttered, cock twitching inside me. Warmth spread through my insides, spilling down my thighs. He babbled incoherent praises, punctuating his words with soft whimpers. 

His orgasm didn’t stop him from continuing to fuck me with fervor. My eyelids fluttered closed as I sunk into the feeling of his rough thrusts. My cunt squelched around his cock every time he bottomed out.

“You feel too good- I can’t-” he fell silent, letting his hips take over. Heat swelled in my stomach, like molten metal. I could feel my nerve endings buzzing, sending jolts of pleasure up and down my limbs. The chill of the air was long forgotten as my arousal nearly burned through my skin. 

“Please, I need more,” he choked. “Need to fill you up.”

My head spun with every degenerate word he added. I reached between my legs, hastily circling my fingers around my clit. My cunt clenched around his length, pulling another whimper from him. 

He leaned down, pressing his chest against the back of my hoodie. I cried out when I felt his teeth sinking into my neck. My vision went blurry as tears filled my eyes. It was too much, wracking every nerve in my body. 

My skin tingled as my muscles contracted. Burning hot tendrils of pleasure wrapped tightly around my limbs, contorting and bending my body under his grasp. Tinnitus flooded my ears as my orgasm rushed over me like a wave. Sweat oozed from my pores, running down my body and sinking into my clothes. 

The ground beneath me disappeared as my thoughts faded. I dipped into nothingness, only the muffled sounds of his grunts keeping me grounded. I could feel mg blood coursing through my veins, pumping fast with every contraction of my ventricles. I could feel hot tears welling in my eyes, running down my temples. 

His pace grew unsteady. His claws raked down the side of my cheek, pulling me from my state of half-consciousness.

“Need it so bad, need to cum inside of you, please-” he cried. His tears fell onto my back, sinking into the thick cotton fabric of my hoodie. “Tell me I’m a good boy, tell me I did good-”

“Good boy, come on, fuck me till it takes,” I caught a glimpse of him in the corner of my eye. A deep red blush had settled over his cheeks. Tears and snot ran down his face. He took in shaky breaths, whining with every exhale. 

His hips stuttered as he came. Thick globs of his cum ran down my inner thighs, staining my jeans. He stilled, sniffling and whining softly. He slowly pulled out, blue eyes fixated on my cunt. 

With a thud, he let his body drop beside me. My fingertips carded through his curls, gently pulling him into my embrace. He nuzzled his face into my chest, tail thumping behind him. 

“Good boy,” I cooed.

Masterlist

[hanayori89]

🪶🪶🪶Lesson 12: Chain of Command 🪶🪶🪶

"So then—that settles it, Groose; you will stay here and watch Y/N."

Groose hopped off the rock he had settled his bottom on top of. He pointed a finger at himself while you aimed a finger in his direction. 

"Me?"

"Him?" 

Link sighed, folding his arms. He waited patiently for the inescapable riposte headed his way. After all, he used to be Groose's victim, being endlessly bullied and browbeaten by his many antics. Whether it be in the form of having his Loftwing locked away or tripping him in the hallways of the Knight Academy. 

But now, Hylia had served her hero with the sweetest form of justice, as Link went from victim to victor when it came to Zelda's heart and his status as the stronger knight.

"I want to protect Zelda too, you know?" Groose snickered, plopping back onto his rock without much of an argument. 

"Groose! I need you to stay here and watch Y/N! If you want to help Zelda, then do that much." 

"That helps you—not Zelda." 

Link looked away, his bangs not quite long enough to hide the small patches of red now dotting the apples of his cheeks. "You heard what Impa said." 

Impa had returned to the sanctuary of the sealed temple, the recent excitement taking a toll on the old woman's tenuous body. You stood, secure beneath the umbrage of a tree with as many branches as veins in a hand. While you remained hidden beneath its comfort, you observed the clear jousting tournament of stares going down between Link and Groose.

Link took a step toward him. The look in his eyes made it clear whatever he was going to say next was going to be the move that knocked Groose off his horse of obstinance. "For whatever reason, the imprisoned has chosen Y/N; the longer it is kept away from her, the longer we keep it from progressing and getting to Zelda. For now, this is how we will handle this." It was evident from Link's tone that he was clearly the top of the pecking order, and it left no room for Groose to challenge him further. 

You could see Groose lift his gargantuan hand, his index finger tapping against the small knob of his puckered lips. He was going to concede. 

You had to interrupt. All of this arguing as if you were some helpless damsel was starting to get on your nerves. Groose may have been afraid to challenge the hero's "supposed" authority. But to you, he was still Link, and there was nothing you loved more than stepping on his toes. "Don't I get a say in this?" 

Groose and Link both turned and looked at you. "No."

You threw your hands up in the air. "I managed to keep that thing distracted and away from Impa!" 

"Y/N!" Link hissed, your words clearly reigniting and stoking the fresh fires of unforgiveness. "Be that as it may, had I not saved you, what would have happened?"

"It would have worked out somehow! I could have fallen into one of the zephyrs and then—" 

"And what, Y/N? Be catapulted back on top of its head and bucked off?"

"No! You are acting so high and mighty because you're some kind of descendant of the great hero! Well, newsflash, Link—do you remember who trained with you on Skyloft? Who was ahead of you at one point, actually?" Your eyes were beginning to sting out of aggravation, and you refused to show him a single tear. You turned around, your head pointed up skyward, wishing you were home. Your voice wavered. "When we were on Skyloft—"

"But we are not on Skyloft Y/N. We are down here. On the Surface. The playing field is different now and..." You could almost hear the cogs in his head spinning as he thought carefully about what to say next.

"And what?" You whipped your head around, your voice defiant. "Just go protect Zelda, Link."

His face fell. "Y/N..."

"Just go. Spare me the good boy act." 

"My not wanting to see anything happen to you isn't an act." His eyes began to imitate the way he had looked at you not too long ago. That look that made you want to...

I'm not falling for that again. 

You turned back around. “You're still amazing, Y/N. Nothing that is happening here and now diminishes your determination and willpower. None of it takes away how great of a knight you are. But this evil, it isn't an evil that—"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Link." You were too tired to hide the melancholy in your tone. You just wanted to go home. You wanted to curl up in your bed and daydream. Read a book in the library and joke around with Karane. Go on nighttime flights with Sava.

And you couldn't. Now you were stuck here. You were stuck here with Link and the intricate way you felt about him. And it was all because of the imprisoned. You wished you never learned about Zelda or Link or any of this silly nonsense. 

You just wanted your normal life back.

As if reading the diary of your thoughts, Link continued. "You'll be able to go home again. I swear it. Trust me, Y/N."

You thought a leaf had fallen on your shoulder when you realized it was the ghost of Link's touch as he left your side.

The soft tread of his footsteps began to grow further away from you. You turned around. "Link? Please, would you please tell Karane that I am okay? And Sava, tell me Sava is safe." The next part you didn't bother to say out loud. 

I know you don't even owe me that much.

You couldn't make out his facial expression, only the faint up and down of his head in response. Eventually the verdant backdrop of leaves swallowed him from your sight.

"And thank you... for saving me." You said to yourself.

A fetid wave of breath pummeled against your cheek, not giving you time to sulk.

"Well, it's just you and me now, huh?"

Ugh. 

You turned and were greeted by the image of Groose shimmying his eyebrow at you.

Link must think I was born yesterday if he thinks I am going to sit here obediently with the prickly pinecone and the inept pompadour.

You looked over at the dormant seal that housed the imprisoned beneath it. Wouldn't I be safer in the woods than right where it could destroy the seal?

You looked at Groose, then back at the seal, before slowly backing away, a sly grin on your face. With a skip and jump, you began to run.

"Hey!" Groose shouted. "I'm not trying to hear Link if you get lost out there!"

You waved your hand in his direction without turning back. "I'll be fine, you big kahoot! If I'm stuck down here, I might as well explore some. I'll be back!" 

"I thought you wanted to learn how to use the Groosenator?! Y/N! Don't go being stupid! You hear me?" 

"I'll bring us back something to eat!" You responded, your voice echoing behind you. You thought about your answer, realizing you didn't even know what there was to eat on the surface. 

But if it was going to be your temporary home, it was time you learned more about it. 

Besides, based on your logical conclusion, hanging around the seal was more dangerous than being in the woods.

Wasn't it?

Edited: 12/8/24

[robexp03]

Horse Whispers - Chapter 5

In my dreams, I raced the wind himself across a glade that surely was made for me alone. Into the golden sunlight, in a small shallow valley near a great willow tree, with sunbeams spearing down brightly, I ran. Here the trees left this field to their slighter kin, while they crowded upon the ring of hilltops to gaze down fondly at the ancient minuet of bee and dragonfly, hummingbird and butterfly- jewel-bright, thought-swift, glittering amid the flashing lances of the risen sun.  Colors unknown clustered there, on stalks and bushes, and in paler hues by the lee of each hill where they bedecked the flowering moss. Sweet herbs, and savory, carpeted the spaces between and lush, cool grasses, not a stone or nettle to be seen, no holes or deadfalls to trip into.  The dancers called and I could not refuse the summons.

            I raced joyously encircling the glade, the wind whistling encouragement in my ears! “Faster, farther!” He seemed to say. My legs were possessed of the magic spell of speed! My muscles pumped, again and again, but I did not tire! Wings are not the only enablers of flight! The airborne jewels of the glade were caught up in my rapture and trailed behind me like a brilliant rainbow cometary tail, an extension of the blonde flowing hair that also trailed behind me.  My hoofed feet springing lightly against the earth, I spread my arms and threw back my head just to feel the delicious fingers of the draught of my passage massaging the mane down my back!

            I woke languorously from my dream and opened my eyes into the light of the dawn. I smiled wistfully at the clear memory of the vision, and worked to store it in a permanent place where I might always recall and enjoy it. I rolled onto my stomach and hugged the pillow to my chest happily cozy, and at peace. I closed my eyes and snuggled for a moment to drift back towards the glade's embrace before realizing that I was free!  All right!  I sat up on the edge of the bed and swung my legs over the side.

Looking down I realized that it was more like a form fitting examination table than a bed after all, and quite a drop to the floor. I edged closer, and the first surprise came when my balls dropped over the edge with a pronounced jerk! I sat for a moment, to gather my memories and separate them from the dream, while my testicles swung pendulous between my thighs. Oh yes, must watch that from now on, was the only thing that crossed my mind at the time. My eyes followed the unfamiliar line of my sheath up my abs, and I had to touch myself just to be sure it was real.  Such a pretty fur I thought, and so soft.

Scooting further I stretched one leg towards the floor, but for some reason I was having a problem judging the distance. I finally just pushed over and landed on both feet.  But something was wrong. My heels would not touch the floor!  I stood there on the balls of my feet and no matter how I tried, it felt like my achilles tendons had been shortened. Bowing my knees I squatted to get a closer look.

My feet looked out of proportion. Longer somehow, I thought. But aside from the odd feeling of standing on my toes, they seemed to work. I took a few steps and discovered that I had to walk a little differently to keep from dragging and stubbing my toes. Each step had to begin with a little lift in the knees, and then a step. The soles of my feet never touched the ground, and there was a feeling of having springs in each step. Somewhat absently I wondered what this would do to my wardrobe of expensive running shoes. And then I also wondered why it didn’t bother me. Somewhere I felt that it should, but it just didn’t.

The door swished open and Jerrod came in looking at a clipboard. I stood up too quickly and turned towards him and everything went haywire. The walls of the room swam strangely, and I lost my balance. I tried to adjust my footing and catch my weight on my heels, but I didn’t have any, and down I went with a crash! I hit a little rolling table a glancing blow with my head, and sent a tray of instruments clattering loudly. 

“Cody!” Jerrod yelled, “Are you ok?”  My left ear hurt like hell, and I hit full force on my tailbone, but my pride felt worse. Runners are supposed to be sure footed. A trip can mean all the difference in a race. My face blushed hotly, and I looked up at his concerned face. I was a jumble of legs and arms, and was still too dizzy to do more than smile weakly and say something stupid.

“Ah feyull daown” I said in my best Forrest Gump. I expected him to laugh or at least smile, but what I got instead was a badly shocked look and an open mouth.

“Hey buddy, are you having trouble talking?” he said in a motherly way. I blew my breath between my lips and made a very satisfying burble sound.

“No. I was trying to make you laugh. I’m all right. Really. My ear and my butt hurt, but no harm done. I just feel so stupid” I confessed. Jerrod put his arm around my shoulder and got me on my feet. Automatically I bent down to brush off my clothes, and then looked up at him with a lame grin. I wasn’t wearing any. “Oh man, and the day started so good too” I said shaking my head. Long hair fell in my eyes. I reached to brush it back but he beat me to it. Man, it felt good to have him run his fingers through my hair. “Thanks Lancelot” I said softly.

“You’re bleeding” he said. “Sit on the chair and let’s get something on that. What happened anyway?” 

“Well, I got dizzy when I stood up and turned, and I just couldn’t catch myself. Jerrod, my feet don’t work right.” He said nothing, but I swear he was silently apologetic. I could sense it somehow.

At that moment Dr. DeBiron breezed in the door, exuding a sense of satisfaction. He didn’t keep it though when saw the scene. Wordlessly angered, he turned my head right and looked at my ear.

“I think one or two stitches will be needed. What happened?” he questioned. Jerrod explained; I blushed hotly all over again.

“Doctor, my feet don’t work right” I said trying to sooth my bruised ego with a little blame placement. He only glanced down and back up.

“On the contrary, Mr. Omen. They are working perfectly” he said through a sigh. “Jerrod, bring the emergency kit. Now you relax for a few minutes, I will close this up, and then we will talk.”

“Can I sit on the bed? My butt hurts” I pouted.

“Let me look” the doctor said. I stood up quite steadily, despite the fear they both were wearing.  He turned me sideways, and touched my sore spot. How do doctors always know exactly where its sore, and they always go right for it?

“Oww, Dat hurts!” I did my best Gilbert Godfried. The doctor looked up at me sharply. “It’s a joke doc. Sheesh, you two are a gen-u-wine barrel… of... fun…” I trailed off as I looked over my shoulder at my ass.

At the top of my butt, right at the crack, there was a 3-inch protrusion. “That’s one hell of a swelling” I said dryly. “What the fuck is going on?” 

“Mr. Omen, I think you better...”

“Sit down?” I finished for him. “I hate this part of the movie.” He opened a small packet containing a suture

“Mr. Omen...” he lectured.

“Doc, it gives me great pleasure when you call me Cody” I offered, trying to get him to relax a little. His distress was beginning to unnerve me.

“Cody,” and I shivered again from head to toe.  “Sit still. This will pinch a little. Um…. you have an interesting future ahead of you.” <pinch> My ear jerked in reaction, but Jerrod took hold of it and kept it still.

I rolled my eyes around expressively and said “I think I know this speech. This is a Dad Talk isn’t it? Dad Talk number twelve, I think. <pinch> Ouch! Is that the needle or a hot nail?” Jerrod now was using both hands on my ear. “Wait a minute….. What the fuck???” I reached up with my left hand to where my ear wasn’t anymore. Smooth skin met my touch.

I started to get upset. I could feel my heart begin to pound. Jerrod sensed it too, and worry coated his hands. He took my hand and moved it up my head. To an ear. I could hear it rustle at my touch, but it wasn’t an ear as I had known it. My distress increased, and my ear folded back, um….automatically? I mean I felt me move it, but I didn’t do it. Jerrod struggled with the other.

“That is enough,” the doctor said sadly. “Let him go” and he snipped the thread. Both my hands went straight up and followed the unfamiliar shapes I found at the upper back of my head. As best I could tell, they resembled large short tubes. My breathing rate increased and I opened my mouth in a pant.

“Get my bag quickly,” the doctor said with soft urgency. I could smell my own fear.

“Doctor” I said between pants, “what’s going on?” Jerrod came back flicking a syringe in the light and handed it to Dr. DeBiron. I stood up and backed away pushing at the air with my hands. “No! No, just talk to me! You’ve got to help me Jerrod. Keep him away from me!” I almost started crying.

“Now buddy, you know I’m here for you.” My nose wrinkled oddly; Jerrod’s worry changed to deep affection as he spoke. He started to move calmly towards me. “Cody, <shiver> I won't hurt you. Dr. DeBiron won’t hurt you”. His sincerity washed over my fear and I took a step in his direction keeping my eyes glued to the doctor. Jerrod moved up close on my left side and placed a hand on my shoulder and stroked it down my back. He left a trail of warm scented friendship in its wake, wiping away at my fear. “Easy fella, you can do this.” His right hand went round to my cheek and he pulled my face around towards his. My eyes finally unlocked and I stared down into his concerned dark ones. He scritched my cheek fondly, and walked his fingers up to my ear and stroked it. Despite my remaining fear I closed my eyes and leaned my head into his touch.

            The doctor took a step and my right ear flicked forward. My eyes flashed open and I fixed him with a challenging frown. Instantly there was such a powerful wash of disappointment / sadness / failure from him that it made me blink my eyes, as if the acrid taste of it was hurting them.  But he looked no different in any way. I was very confused.

Then my mental voice began reasoning. This man is layered in masks. He has withdrawn his true self deep into the center of the Doctor, and has learned how to hide every trace of his feelings from everyone. The Doctor is only a carapace, hiding and protecting a sensitive inner creature. But a shell not only limits outside sensation, it also stifles inner sensitivity. The last of my fear evaporated and I smiled at him, and nodded my head causing a shock of hair to fall over my eyes.  He stepped forward and gently brushed it back behind my ear. And for the first time I remembered, his smiling face was genuine. That smile radiated from in interior spot, and it was fresh upon the air.

            I reached forward and wrapped my arms around him, put my head over his shoulder, and I produced a low rumbling “Murrrrrrrr” in my throat somehow. A sea salt breeze filled the room, and when I looked Jerrod had silent tears streaming down his face.

“Cody,” he began as that shiver ran through me again. “There is a great deal you must know. Unfortunately, I can't tell you everything, because I simply don’t know everything myself” he said. “What is going on is that you are changing. As planned yes, but more than that, you are changing in ways unplanned.  A metamorphosis is occurring. The only thing you do not know yet is that you almost died while I had you sedated. The internal organ and hormonal changes were happening, but your human body was not willing to adjust sufficiently, or perhaps rapidly enough. We nearly lost you. I made a decision to make further adjustments in your therapy.  Your human testosterone seemed to be incompatible with the rest of the changes. And so I engineered a new virus to modify yours to more closely resemble a horses, just as I did your adrenal and pituitary products. It saved your life, but….  You began to change externally as well as internally. Your new penis and scrotum were the first manifestations. I hoped it would stop there, but it hasn’t. Each day you have become more equine and less human” he said spreading his open hands before himself, almost in a request for forgiveness. “And I cannot stop it.”

            “You can’t engineer me back?” I asked hopefully.

“Perhaps in the future. We must allow your new DNA matrix to stabilize. Then, perhaps, we can begin to reverse the process. But to do so now, while the changes are still taking place, would mean certain death” he said sadly, and I could sense the truth of it. I looked down at myself.

“So, in 25 monotonous words or less, I’m turning into a horse?” I choked out.

“No, I don’t think so. You are manifesting some equine characteristics, yes. But I don’t think the change will result in an actual equine conversion since you have not received whole equine DNA. Most of what you are seeing so far can be tied directly to the modifications that we made to your glandular components. But we suspect that something, nature if you will, is also taking an interest in you. And from your raw material, a new creature, a new being, is emerging.”

            “That sounds very metaphysical for a man of medical science,” I prodded. His face flushed, and the air smelled hot and angry.

            “Not at all. This is indeed medical science at its finest. It is simply proceeding in unforeseen directions and the results are not completely predictable. Mother Nature does not give up her secrets easily.”

All this time, Jerrod had been silently petting my head and neck, as if I was some unthinking animal. But a great part of me was loving it, and more significantly needing it deeply, regardless of the part of me that resented it. I had a great deal to learn, not the least of which was who I was now.

“Doc, I need a mirror,” I said rather flatly.

“I don’t think…” He began. I stomped my foot hard making a loud thud on the floor. An impatient whicker came from my throat.

“I don’t care at this moment, Doc. I need to see the reality of all this” I said tersely. He looked me in the eyes a moment, and telegraphed resignation.

“Follow me, Cody” he said quietly, and I shivered yet again. I held up my hand to signal a halt. 

“Wait. There is something else that needs an explanation first.” They looked at me expectantly.  “Every time either of you say my name, I get a rush of uncontrolled shock that runs across my skin. You both can cause it, but Jerrod causes the most intense effect. It’s like a little shivering rush of fear or something. So, what is that all about?”

Dr. DeBiron and Jerrod turned their heads to look at each other, each expecting the other to respond first.  As usual, the doctor took the lead.

“Cody” the doctor began, and my nerves flowed electrically again. “You have accepted the fact that you are physically adopting many equine characteristics. Your body is changing inwardly and outwardly in a recondite manner. Just as your body is adapting, so too are your neural pathways and mental functions rearranging and recombining. In many ways, you are a young foal, experiencing his world for the first time. I foresaw this probability and provided you with an anchor of stability that you could cling too in times of stress. From the moment your new mind returned to consciousness, you have been integrating your old self with a newborn set of impulses and reactions. For your anchor, I chose Jerrod.” I looked wonderingly at Jerrod's face, but he was concentrating on a spot on the floor.  “He is a student of veterinary medicine, and his knowledge and practical experience as a horse trainer made him ideal to perform as my assistant, and if necessary, your guide and stabilizing influence. In short, the moment you saw and heard him, your mind imprinted on him as a foal will upon its mother. Your reaction to hearing your name spoken by him is undoubtedly a result of the combining of your imprinting with your human emotions.”

I nodded in understanding. I had done the same thing with Traveler. I had been present at his conception and his birth, and even before his patient and trusting mother had begun to clean him, I had held his wet and weak head in my lap. I spoke to him softly, lightly stroking his neck and muzzle, and the eyes that looked into mine were filled with love, but also with an intense need. I had been the first creature he had seen or sensed with his newborn body. Traveler had imprinted on me, and so had begun the most rewarding relationship of my own life.

“Doctor, are you saying that these feelings of love and trust I feel for you two are artificially implanted? That they are only the product of some hormone-based influence and not genuinely felt?” 

“Cody, what is emotion? How do we feel love for another? For that matter, what makes us fall in love in the first place?” he asked me.

“I have no idea” I answered truthfully with a shrug.

“No one has those answers” he stated quietly. “So, who is to say that what you feel is any less genuine, or any less profound, than any other love that you have ever acquired.  There is an old adage. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck.”

“Considering what I must look like at the moment, I’m not sure I like that particular analogy doc, but I get the point” I muttered. 

 I stepped before the mirror, and in its full length, I saw a monster.

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

To be continued

[yellowpencilcrayon]

Imagine Your OTP #121

Him: Call me Daddy

Me: *Takes a deep breath in*

Him: Uhm wha-

Me: DADDY SHARK DOO DOO DOO DOOO

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Could i get a part two on the bef sharing trope with dream? I wanna see the green man struggle with internal FEELINGS about the reader and that night bc its adorable

Head very very full

☾ 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕥 𝕋𝕚𝕣𝕖 ☽

pairing: Dream x reader

warnings: none :)

links: ao3, main, pt. 1

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this xx 

After scraping together your appearances, you and Dream climbed back into his car and settled back into the bends of the highway, hoping to reach your destination soon. Since the two of you had gotten up, Clay had been weirdly quiet, which you pretended not to notice and continued to ramble and talk to him. His absent-minded responses were completely uncharacteristic for him, but pointing that out would probably evoke some sort of frustrated response from him about you being obsessed. 

You rolled your window down slightly while the two of you were stopped at a red light. Clay pressed his back further against his seat to stretch before pulling off his hoodie and tossing it in the back. Your eyes lingered on his arms, your mind drifting to the feeling of his skin against yours. You hated how, despite his immature reaction to the situation, you yearned to be back in his embrace again. You had half a mind to make him stop at another motel and ask for one bed just to prove a point. You weren’t sure if it was to him or yourself. 

You reached for your drink that was wedged into the cupholder, accidentally brushing his arm that was resting on the console. He jumped at your touch, acting almost as a reflex and making you quip an eyebrow at him teasingly. “You should be careful; I have the worst case of cooties,” you joshed. Clay narrowed his eyes to the brightness of the sun, shaking his head slightly at your joke. The light made his eyes almost an iridescent forest green. 

He placed both hands on the wheel, looking more tense than he had before. You bit back a laugh at his obvious discomfort. You reached to turn up the radio and let him have his quiet time. 

You’d been on the road for an hour when the car blew a tire, leaving you and Dream on the side of the road, standing side-by-side as you stared at the deflated wheel. “Can’t you just change it?” You mumbled, sending him into a dark chuckle. 

“WOw, wouldn’t that be NiCE.” He stepped closer to the car, kicking the tire with his foot. “Only, I don’t have a spare.” He ran a hand through his hair, his shirt tightening around his shoulder. You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying not to enjoy his meltdown. He went into a fit of mumbling to himself before digging out his phone and calling a tow truck. “The one time I take country roads, I swear to- Hi!” His dynamic changed completely as someone picked up on the other end. You walked over to move beside him again, settling against the passenger door as he paced in front of you slowly, attempting to make the act of calling the auto-shop less awkward for himself. 

“It’ll be a few hours,” he stated after ending the call, resting one of his arms on the roof of the car and leaning his weight against the metal beside you. His towering frame blocked the wind from reaching you. He looked around the two of you at the desolate fields. You were truly isolated from civilization. 

You finally made eye contact with him, a small blush creeping to his cheeks before he looked away again. “What should we do until then?” You asked, digging the toe of your sneaker into the dirt. “I mean you seemed to like cuddling yesterday so…” you mumbled barely above a whisper. 

He scoffed, with an eye roll before crossing his arms. “That information dies with the two of us, okay?” 

You couldn’t help the grin splitting your face. “What? We can’t talk about that?” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “You were like slobbering on my shoulder, all nestled up! It was actually really cute, Clay.” 

“I regret agreeing to this trip with you,” he muttered. 

But you continued. “I feel honored being your personal teddy bear. The Great Dream actually snuggled up to me-” 

“Shut up,” he grumbled. 

“-And to think, if it weren’t for that tiny motel bed, I would never know what it was like to-” 

Clay cut you off by swiftly grabbing your forearm and pulling you to his chest. Before your mind could register the abrupt action, he pressed his lips against yours. Your thoughts had turned into radio static as you leaned into his kiss. Yet, just as it had begun, Clay parted from you. He sent you a rather deadpanned look, masking the hesitation swirling behind his eyes. His grasp slipped from you as he took a step back. Without thinking, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into you and signing a peace treaty between the two of you with a grander kiss. His breath was hot against your cheek as he sighed into your lips. 

It felt right to be this close to him, like you were home once again. One of his hands settled against your jaw, the coarseness of his thumb lightly brushing against your skin with a softness you previously weren’t sure Clay had within him. Your hands spread to wrap around him, deepening your kiss. The sun beat down against your skin, as the smell of Clay’s body wash began to blend into your senses. 

With reluctance, Clay pulled away from you breathlessly. The two of you stood in silence, your fingers reaching up to brush against the phantom feeling of his lips on your own. You felt giddy inside at the pure shock of the matter. “I think I saw a house down the road. Wanna check it out?” He asked, nonchalantly reaching through the window and grabbing his jacket. You wordlessly nodded, following close behind as he began down the dirt road. 

[starlessea]

𝙎𝙩𝙚�� 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Prologue 0. Closing Time

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 6286

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury

The sky was empty — save for one bird.

Daryl watched it fly above him, so close to the ground that he could make out the beating of its wings and swore he saw individual feathers flutter in the breeze.

His fingers itched over his crossbow, as he contemplated shooting it down from the sky and plucking it clean. He'd have something to eat then, at least. Though, for some reason, Daryl Dixon couldn't bring himself to let loose his arrow, watching as the bird soared overhead — and disappeared beyond the trees.

The man sighed as he kicked up some loose stones with the toe of his boot. What a waste, he thought, before trudging through the field once again.

The sky remained cloudless for the rest of the day, existing as a pale, washed-out grey that made Daryl feel uncomfortable as he hunted. The game must have felt the same, since the deer he'd been tracking made itself scarce, and the string of squirrels hanging from his belt seemed no heavier than it had done when the sun rose that morning.

Still, he trekked onwards over the thick, winding grass and through damp forest overgrowth. He was nearly back at the quarry already, but he hardly had anything to show for it. A few measly rodents and a sprained ankle were barely worth his trip in the first place; they sure as hell wouldn't be enough for all of the mouths he now had to feed.

Daryl cursed at himself for hesitating to shoot that bird straight out of the sky, and clip its wings. It wasn't much, but maybe it would have lasted a day if he was lucky. Still, there was no use wondering now, since it had swooped so close to him that he almost felt the downward draft on his cheek — and then he let it fly away.

He thought that it had been a jaeger; it definitely looked like a seabird that had veered too far from the shore. It was a gull with a white breast and dark, blackish feathers — and a wingspan that made sure you couldn't miss it.

He remembered you pointing one out to him, at 3am, parked up on that deserted beach as the two of you stared out into the rocking ocean.

"Ya thinkin' 'bout 'er again, baby brother?"

Daryl could hear Merle's voice taunt, in the deepest, darkest corners of his thoughts.

"Tha' lil' birdie of yours?"

He quickly shook his head — even though it was the truth.

It had been Daryl's own mind that conjured up those words, after all. Merle wasn't actually here. He was probably back at the campsite, lazing about and leering after women far too good for a beaten-up redneck like him.

Though, funnily enough, Merle had said the exact same thing to Daryl when he noticed his gaze settling over the new bar server, who swiped away the froth spilling over from their draught beers. Merle had given him even more of an earful when he realised that his younger brother was waiting for her shift to end.

Daryl took a deep breath, before rolling his neck to try and relieve the tension that had built up there. Once his mind drifted into thoughts of you — even if only for a split second — it often sank to the point of no return.

You were all consuming; you had been from the first time he laid eyes on you in that old, country auto-repair shop.

He remembered the way your voice chirped like a bird's, despite the curses that often fell from your lips.

You even made those sound sweet.

And he could also recall the way you yelled over the rumble of his bike engine, and competed with the screeching that came from his tyres losing their grip on the worn-out tarmac.

You'd told him that it felt like you were flying — and that was probably the reason why Daryl Dixon couldn't shoot that jaeger.

Then, the man heard something louder than he had done since the world ended — and suddenly, the sky was no longer empty.

There was an explosion, and that dull greyness was set alight with brilliant hues of red and orange. It made fire start to rain down upon Daryl, who could only stand and watch below. Debris fell out of the sky like a meteor shower, landing beyond the trees in the distance — to a place that Daryl couldn't quite make out, no matter how much he squinted.

The air became full with the sounds of scraping metal and flickering flames that caught the leaves and made them burn up like the end of a cigarette. Daryl felt his heart race as the adrenaline pumped its way through his veins, and made him flinch each time something crashed heavily to the ground.

There was often a moment in a person's life where their brain got kick-started into gear — and they awoke from whatever auto-pilot they'd been functioning on until that point.

For most, it was probably a mundane milestone like marriage or parenthood.

For others, it might have been a life or death situation that made them re-evaluate their perspective.

For some, it had only happened when the world actually ended, and the apocalypse began.

And perhaps, if Daryl had been a smarter man, it would have been this instant — as he gazed up at the sky and watched it burn above him. Maybe this was his second life-changing realisation; maybe he was lucky enough to get two.

But, for Daryl, the first had just been a regular Tuesday.

The garage was sticky hot that day. It was the kind of heat that made you sweat no matter how many fans you had blowing — since Old man Dean was too cheap to install air conditioning. His boss was a bit of a stickler for paying his bills, and nit picky with his nickles, but he'd always been kind to Daryl.

That being said, working as a mechanic wasn't exactly where Daryl had pictured himself at his age; but then again, he couldn't really picture himself anywhere at all. He felt like that last piece of the jigsaw puzzle, which didn't quite fit in with the others — the one that you had to bend into shape just to make it work.

Sure, he enjoyed seeing the different bikes roll in and out of the shop — those models he would never be able to afford — and Daryl appreciated having a few extra dollars in his pocket for when Merle raided his savings to score some pot.

Besides, there wasn't much else to do in the boonies. Daryl's old man once told him that the only interesting thing to rear its ugly head out of Georgia's backyard in the last fifty years was Dean's Auto Shop. That's probably why Daryl started working there in the first place, as a summer job when he was teenager — and had never really left since.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, his old man had been right about one thing — despite the bastard never catching on to the role of father. He'd been right about the shop being the only interesting thing around.

Because it was the place where he met her.

And then she became the only thing in that small town even worth being interested in.

Daryl didn't hear a car pull up into the shop, but he heard the mumbling outside from where he sat in the breakroom — chewing on some of Dean's leftover pizza that was bordering on stale.

"Dixon, get your ass out here for a second, would you?" the old man yelled, banging on the thin wall that separated them with his fist.

Daryl cursed below his breath, throwing the rest of his food into the trash and dusting off his hands over his jeans. He stepped out into the shop, and was met by an unfamiliar face — looking over at him curiously.

He suddenly felt unexplainably nervous, and dropped his head down to his feet as though it were a reflex he didn't know he had.

"This is your guy," he heard Dean say, before letting out one of his usual chesty coughs.

The man smoked a pack a day too much — and that was coming from Daryl.

"Owner of that bike you've been eyeing, too," he went on.

That caught Daryl's attention, and he instantly glanced up at the woman in question. She was breath-taking, but she also looked very much out of breath. She seemed as though she had run here, despite the Georgia heat.

"You ride?" he asked, but his gruff voice made it sound like more of a demand.

He grimaced at his own tone, but the woman didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

She laughed, and it sounded like nothing he'd ever heard before. "I wish," she said, running her palm along the polished metal and tracing her finger over that shiny logo.

Usually, Daryl would bark at anyone who touched his bike, and Dean seemed as though he expected him to do just that — from the way he raised an eyebrow at the daring woman, too oblivious for her own good.

Except, Daryl stayed quiet.

"Was never allowed within a mile radius of one," she went on, before turning back around to grin at Daryl like it was easy. "My folks were scared I'd take off into the sunset, never to be seen again."

He could relate to that. After all, it was exactly what he and Merle had done as soon as they'd gotten the chance.

"Mhm," he hummed back, before glancing over at the car parked in the middle of the shop. "She's pretty."

It was a steel blue colour — would definitely benefit from a lick of paint, but still pretty nonetheless. The tread looked good on the tyres, and Daryl couldn't see any signs of the rusting those models were prone to. Someone had taken good care of it.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked, and suddenly Daryl was reminded of just how bad he was with words.

He cleared his throat, and ran his hand over the hood.

"Yer car," he explained, "'69 Chevy Camaro?"

Daryl asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Oh yeah, that," she replied, sending him an apologetic look. "It's my grandpa's, so we're going to have to be real discreet about this situation over here."

Daryl raised an eyebrow as she beckoned him to the other side of the car, crouching down near the wheel arch.

"Some bastard left a nail in the road, and I ran straight through the thing like it was a stop sign," she grumbled, pointing out the puncture.

Daryl almost laughed at that — but he was still much too jaded from being caught in the middle of his break.

The woman stood back up and toed the deflated tyre with her boot, scowling at the sight of it.

"I know you're closing soon, but I had to push it half a mile just to get here," she said, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, her appearance made sense. Since he'd first laid eyes on her, all she'd done was tug at the collar of her vest, and try to stand in front of one of those poor excuses for a fan. But even then, Daryl couldn't quite believe her story.

"Ain't no way ya pushed that thing 'ere by yerself." The words left his mouth before he could consider them twice.

And the look she shot Daryl in return made him want to take them straight back.

But then, she smiled.

"I'm stronger than I look," she protested, leaning against the hot car. "You can ask the dozen assholes who catcalled me on the way but never offered their help."

This time, Daryl did let out a chuckle.

"Damn lucky y'ain't pass out," he quipped back, "heat's no joke."

She grinned again, and Daryl wondered whether she had an endless supply — or if she'd saved them just for him.

"Tell me about it," the woman teased. "Never liked visiting Georgia because of it."

Then, it all made sense to Daryl — the reason why she intrigued him so much.

"Y'ain't from 'round here, are ya?" he asked, surprising himself.

Usually, he couldn't give a 'rat's ass', as Dean called it, about anyone who stumbled into their shop. Never did they get more than a half-hearted greeting from Daryl, or a grunt as he told them to mind their head on that low door frame (she didn't have that problem). Though today, he seemed oddly talkative.

"Haven't seen ya before," he added.

The woman folded her arms over her chest.

"Would you recognise me if you had?" she asked.

"E'erybody knows e'erybody in this place," he answered. "I'd remember if I saw ya cross the street."

It was partially the truth. Daryl knew most people — but he only bothered to remember a select few.

"Moved here last week," she caved, proving him right. "I'm keeping my grandparents company watching daytime cable and doing grocery runs."

Daryl smirked. "An' runnin' over nails with their car, apparently."

"That, too," she confessed.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Daryl realised that he should probably give her a quote for the job. Though, she interrupted him before he could.

"Listen, your new neighbour would be really grateful if you could cut her a break," she said, eyeing the Camaro like she was considering whether it was even worth the hassle. "The old man's going to kill me if I come home on foot tonight."

Daryl knew what she was asking. The notice in the shop window made it clear that they'd be closing in half an hour; Daryl had been all but ready to flip the sign himself. Before she'd arrived, he'd even dared to think that he could shut early — and possibly get to crack open a cold beer and enjoy the breeze of his porch.

He sighed.

"I'll see what I can do," Daryl mumbled, "but I ain't makin' no promises," he warned — as he caught the way her eyes lit up at his words.

But that was a lie. Daryl knew he wouldn't let himself go home until it was finished.

The woman was utterly gleeful. He watched her smile much too widely for her face, and for a moment Daryl thought that she might even jump at him. But she seemed to catch herself at the last second, and abruptly stopped.

She didn't falter long, though. "Thank you, thank you so much!" she said, excitedly, before pausing to tap at her jean pockets. "I don't have any cash on me for a deposit, but I'm heading to work now."

She looked sheepish as she explained herself.

"I'll come straight back and pay in full," she added, trying her best to convince him.

Daryl narrowed his eyes like he didn't quite understand. Then he did, and he laughed properly.

"Deposit?" he asked, shaking his head. "City girl, here we jus' keep yer vehicle if ya can't pay."

The woman's expression was priceless. She looked as though she couldn't figure out whether he was joking or not, and stared at Daryl with her mouth slightly agape as she debated which it was.

He couldn't watch any longer.

"Where ya workin'?" he asked.

Then, he cursed himself for doing so. Time was ticking on, and he already had to stay overtime because of his inability to say no. Well, usually he had no problem with the word; it just seemed like it was stuck in his throat today.

"Joe's bar," she replied. "It's a few blocks over and-"

"I know Joe's bar," Daryl interrupted.

Everybody knew Joe's. It was the only place around that sold a decent draught beer. He'd been going there since he was a teenager — younger than he should have been, but old enough to know better.

"Me an' my brother go there a lot, but I ain't seen you 'round."

She nodded.

"Only started a few days ago. Hopefully they don't fire me for being late."

Daryl glanced at the clock. It was approaching his closing time and her opening one.

"Ya better get runnin', Camaro," he noted, tapping at his watch that didn't even work. "Rush hour soon."

The woman narrowed her eyes at the nickname. Daryl didn't know her real one yet, and felt like it was too late to ask for it. He'd have to catch a glimpse of Dean's log book later to find out.

"Will do," she replied with a smile. "Thanks again, Dixon."

Though Daryl couldn't quite work out how she knew his name, either.

He watched her scurry about collecting her things, and walked her to the entrance. The sun was starting to set — leaving the sky a pinkish orange that only made him squint the more he looked at it. He held the door open for the woman, and heard Dean snort from the back of the shop. But the way she thanked him made it worth the teasing.

"Take care of that sixties Honda," she winked, "she's a real beauty."

Daryl was surprised that she knew the model of his bike, considering she'd never even ridden one.

"If only ya knew," he mumbled back as he saw her off. "Will take ya for a ride one time if yer willin'."

She stopped in place. Daryl didn't know why he said that. It had just slipped from his mouth like oil from a can.

The woman laughed and rolled her eyes like she didn't believe him.

"That's what they all say."

Then, she started to jog down the street — just like she said she would — and Daryl thought her crazy for even attempting it in this midsummer Georgia weather. That woman had entered the shop like a whirlwind, and when she left Daryl couldn't remember what he'd even been doing before.

Dean cleared his throat and threw a rag at him that he barely managed to catch.

"Keep it in your pants, boy."

Daryl scowled at the man; he knew him better than that. So, he didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, and instead got started on setting the Camaro up on a jack.

"She's a beauty, I get it," Dean went on, despite his silence. "Her type don't belong in a place like this, that's for damn sure."

Daryl had to agree with him there. He'd gotten a glimpse of his reflection in the wing mirror of her car and grimaced. He had grease on his face, and part of him cursed Dean for not telling him before he'd left the breakroom.

"But you know Mike and Doreen?" the old man asked, and Daryl nodded. "That's their granddaughter."

Daryl furrowed his brow — not realising he'd done it until he caught himself in the glass once again. Mike was a hard man, the type to straighten out any kinks in a person with brute force and that baby boomer spite.

"She may be real pretty, kid, but that one's trouble," Dean noted, confirming his suspicions.

He ignored the way he called him 'kid'. The old man still hadn't grown out of the habit — despite Daryl being well beyond his teenage years now.

"Trouble?" he repeated, like he couldn't quite comprehend the word being associated with someone like that.

Dean chuckled — but it turned into one of those coughs that made Daryl wince.

"Maybe more so than you," he said. "Got kicked out of the military, I heard."

Daryl spat at the floor, and Dean laughed again. They both hated those military dogs who often paraded through their town, looking at them as though they were trash beneath their government-issued boots.

But, if she'd been kicked out then maybe they could find some common ground.

Old man Dean wagged his finger at him, recognising Daryl's no-good expression; he'd become familiar with it by now, from all the times he'd worn it throughout the years.

"So don't go losing your head over her, Dixon," he cautioned, pretending not to know how good Daryl was at throwing caution to the wind.

"And remember to close up before you leave."

But it was too late.

Daryl had already lost his head, and his heart — but he wouldn't know that the latter was missing for a very long time.

You ran the cloth along the oak bar surface, wiping away any sticky beer rings that had been left there.

This is why we have coasters, you sighed.

It had been a slow Tuesday night, but you'd somehow still been roped into working the close. You tried to tell your boss that you were having car troubles, and had plans to stop by the garage on your way home — but he seemed to prioritise his own date over yours.

Well, you wouldn't exactly call giving the local mechanic his cheque a date; usually, you didn't have to pay for those. But you couldn't deny how it had made you feel when he smiled that smile your way — so small that you'd almost missed it — before you took off running out the door.

It gave you whiplash.

Perhaps he was just being friendly. But, then again, he didn't seem like the naturally friendly type. You shook your head, throwing the beer-soaked rag into the sink. You didn't trust that man in the slightest.

That wasn't a new development, really; you didn't trust most men. And, you often found that the ones who made your heart race like that were the worst of them all. He was trouble, that one, and you'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

You untied the double knot of your apron, and folded it up neatly. There were a few whiskey stains on it — you'd caught a whiff of that top-shelf scent a few times now — but you were already too late to even consider putting it in the wash. Instead, you left it at the end of the bar, and swapped it out for the ring of keys lying there.

It was closing time, and you prepared yourself to run three blocks in the dark. You stepped out into the night, feeling the cool breeze on your cheek as opposed to the midday heat that had been there when your shift started. You flipped the latch and turned the key in the lock until you heard it click.

Then, you held them between your knuckles so that the jagged edge poked out.

"Ya done for the night?" a voice came from the shadows, and your heart dropped.

That brief second lasted a lifetime as the blood rushed to your ears like a strong current through running water, and your grip tightened over those keys. But then, you noticed the reflection in the glass panels of the door — and relaxed.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," you scolded the man, "thought you were a dejected patron tryna jump me or something."

Perhaps he was; you still didn't know any better.

Dixon was leaning against that dingy brick wall, opposite the back door of Joe's Bar. You didn't even know what that other building was — but some sketchy figures usually loomed about it, so you tried to stay clear.

Maybe he didn't get the memo, you thought.

"Tha' happen before?" the man asked back, casually.

Though, the dim street lights overhead illuminated his face, and you caught a glimpse of his serious expression before he let it drop. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers — almost smoked down to the butt already — and it made you wonder just how long he'd been waiting for you.

"Maybe once or twice," you laughed, but it didn't sound as natural as you had intended.

You noticed the man's eyes flicker down towards the keys held between your knuckles, and you quickly slipped them into your jean pocket — hoping that he wouldn't pry. Luckily, he didn't seem like the type to unnecessarily butt into other people's business.

The smoke trailed from his lips and caught the stark light of the street lamp. He almost looked cold — bathed in that bluish tint which made those cigarette fumes seem nearly luminescent.

"You here to make sure I don't run off with your paycheck?" you teased, fishing out the wad of bills from your back pocket.

You waved them at him, and considered how precarious the situation may seem to an onlooker if they happened to pass by. The man looked as though he felt the same, since he quickly glanced over his shoulder down the alleyway — checking to make sure you were alone.

"Don't worry, Dixon, I busted my ass tonight just so I could leave you a nice tip," you said with a smile, handing the money to him.

He took it, slowly, as though he had to remind himself what it was even for.

Then, he let that cigarette butt fall to the floor, and stamped it out with his boot — before dragging it along the concrete until it was nothing but embers.

The man shook his head at you. "'M here on behalf of the welcome committee."

You snorted as you processed his words, and followed him out of that narrow alleyway into the main street.

"Bullshit," you called, "as if-"

You rounded the corner after him, and stopped. He was there, leaning against that pristine sixties Honda bike — spare helmet in hand.

It was parked up on the sidewalk, polished metal glinting in all its glory under those neon lamps. Dixon was almost camouflaged against it — his black leather jacket also speckled with white light. He held out that helmet, as if it were an invitation he was waiting for you to accept.

But he seemed shy — as though acutely aware that it was only an invite, and nothing more. So, you took it, and shook your head as you realised that it wasn't his spare helmet he had offered you; it was his only helmet.

"Said I'd take ya," he murmured, fastening the strap gently under your chin.

It was too big, so the man compensated by tying it tighter until you felt like your jaw was wired shut. But, you just smiled.

"An' I ain't no liar," he said when he was done, and kicked his leg over the bike.

Then, you sped off into the night.

You yelled over the sound of the engine for him to go faster, and laughed as you had to spit out the stray hairs that had blown into your mouth. Your clothes whipped in the wind, too, and you clung to the man in front of you as though you were afraid they might catch the draft, and make you fly away. It was electrifying; your whole body felt like pure static as you rode past shop displays and windows that made your reflections look like hazed blurs.

That whole trip felt like a hazed blur, really, because suddenly you were there.

"Where are we?" you asked, unsure of where 'there' even was. "Why'd we stop?"

You pulled the helmet from your head and cocked your leg over the bike. The man let out a chuckle at the sight of your hair, sticking up from the static — as though lightning might strike at any moment.

"Smoke break," Dixon grumbled, before coaxing out the squashed cardboard packet from his jeans. "You want one?" he asked, offering it to you.

You shook your head; you didn't smoke.

He shrugged in response, cupping his hands to his face to get a flame from his lighter. You left him to it, and turned away from the bike to catch the view.

And what a view it was, indeed.

You hadn't even noticed the sounds of the lapping ocean waves before you saw them. The cliff overlooked the beach below, desolate, with a high tide that drew the shore into you. Your grandmother had told you about this place once, on the phone a few months back as she tried to sell rural Georgia to you.

It wasn't like you were given much of a choice, anyway.

But now that you'd been shipped out here — against your will, no doubt — you had to admit that she'd been partly right. It was breath-taking. Back in the city, a place like this would be littered with beer cans and tacky, disposable barbeques within a week of someone posting about it online. Here, however, it looked untouched.

It was as though the two of you were the first to ever set foot here, on this particular crag that overlooked the waves — leaving your footprints alongside tyre treads for the next pioneers to discover.

You glanced back at Dixon over your shoulder — who was busy trying to look as though he wasn't already looking at you — and smiled.

He was one hell of a welcome committee.

Daryl almost choked on the fumes of his cigarette — letting out a cough that reminded him of the way old man Dean spluttered in the mornings. He really needed to kick that habit, he thought, and snubbed out his cigarette on the ground.

Then, you scowled at him, so he picked the butt back up and stuffed it into his pocket, grimacing at the thought of having to clean it up later.

He had been lying about the smoke break, really, but then he needed to carry out his excuse. Initially, he'd only thought about picking you up from the bar and offering you a ride back to the shop. He hadn't the slightest clue of how that plan had become this.

Somewhere along the way, Daryl might have accidentally taken a wrong turn, and ended up in the most scenic place he would think of. Stupid damn street signs, he cursed, as though he hadn't driven those roads a hundred times before.

Camaro seemed to call him out on his bluff, too, since she turned to face him and immediately shook her head.

"You're lying," she said, as though she were certain, "but the view is extraordinary, so I'll forgive you just this once."

Daryl swallowed thickly, tasting the tobacco that had made his throat so dry. For someone who claimed himself not to be a liar, that was all he seemed to be doing today.

Then, he watched you make your way towards the edge of that cliff, like you couldn't even hear him warning you to be careful. It was like you weren't paying him the slightest attention. Daryl was used to that from women — but somehow, this was different.

You didn't look down on him, nor at him with any hint of prejudice for wearing jeans still coated in oil, and boots he'd had to tape the soles of just to keep them together. In fact, you weren't looking at him at all. You seemed far more concerned with the stars that flickered in the night sky above you, but at the same time grateful towards the man for having brought you to them.

"You treat all your customers like this, Dixon?" you asked him.

He watched you turn around and look at him like you'd only just remembered that he was there. But, then you beamed a smile at him so bright that it put the stars to shame — and made all of your other ones look dim in comparison.

"Y'ain't special," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Jus' given' ya a lift home 'cos Dean told me to."

Though, Dean had left the shop hours ago.

Daryl watched you laugh like you'd caught him out one more time.

"There you go again," you said, teasingly. "Do you ever tell the truth?"

No, he didn't. He always tried to, but oftentimes it never did him any good. The people of this town had already made the assumption that he was a natural born liar. You were the first person to ever make the distinction between his white lies and those other types.

All his life, Daryl had been pigeon-holed into the role of good for nothing redneck, and had only recently graduated to the slightly less stereotyped town mechanic. But that night it was as if someone, for the first time, tried to get a peek at whatever was underneath.

Old man Dean was right. You were trouble — but not for the reason he had said. You were trouble because you seemed entirely unaware of your place in the world, and it made Daryl start to question his own. You seemed nice — perhaps even lovely — but Daryl never trusted those types. He knew you were far too good to be wasting away the early hours of the morning with the likes of him — and it left him wondering what exactly you wanted.

You'd already paid for his services, after all.

"Thank you for letting me see the stars again," you breathed, stretching your neck which ached from staring at the sky. "It's been a while."

Back then, Daryl didn't quite understand what that meant. He'd thought perhaps that you'd been talking about city pollution.

On the way back, Daryl felt you cling onto him tightly as he drove through empty roads, and passed the old, flickering street lights that blinked like camera flashes. But, when his fingers accidentally brushed up against yours, as you both reached for the shop door, you pulled your hand away.

It had only been a random Tuesday — that had eventually rolled into a Wednesday by the time he'd gotten you back into your repaired Camaro — but that was the moment in his life where Daryl felt like he had finally woken up.

But even awake, he often found himself lost in daydreams of the woman who crash landed into his life, and disappeared from it just as quickly as she came.

Daryl followed the trail of debris that had fallen from the sky, as though he were tracking some giant, metal bird. He didn't want to stick around too long, given that the noise had probably attracted every damn walker in the area; he just hoped that he was still far enough away from camp that they wouldn't be drawn there.

He stepped over the hunks of hot wreckage, some of it still ablaze, until he eventually came across something soft and not made of metal.

It was that jaeger. It was dead.

It looked as though it had been struck straight out of the sky. Its feathers lay scattered around it — the white breast now red with blood — and its wing was bent at a crooked angle, broken.

Daryl scowled. If he'd known that it was going to have such a meaningless death, then he would have shot it himself. Though, he still didn't add the bird to his string of dead animals; he thought that it had suffered enough.

He continued onwards through the brush until he stumbled across what he'd been looking for. But even as he saw it with his own eyes, Daryl couldn't quite believe it. Before him was the husk of a downed helicopter, burning in the middle of the forest.

Immediately, he ran to it, tripping over the wreckage as it got thicker and harder to navigate.

Though, there was no pilot inside — only radios and machinery parts that Daryl didn't know the names of. They screeched high frequency sounds as they caught on fire, and it made his ears ring the longer he listened.

So, he turned back.

That was when he saw it — them — a few meters away. His stomach dropped. Guess that's the pilot, he thought, looking up at the body tangled in the trees.

He'd never seen a parachute in real life before — only ever in the movies. He'd also never understood how that flimsy material could stop someone from plummeting to their death.

Well, in this case it hadn't.

The pilot was dangling from one of the branches, all caught up in those wire cables like a fish on a line. The limbs were contorted awkwardly, and Daryl swallowed thickly at the sight of their arm which had definitely been broken — reminding him of that miserable jaeger's wing.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave. The smell of burning rubber and the white noise from those radios would probably keep him up for the next few nights, but there was nothing he could do about that.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave, but then the body spoke to him.

"Dixon?" he heard it gasp.

And Daryl wondered just how many impossible things he might encounter today.

The voice startled him, and he almost stumbled over his own foot in return. Walkers couldn't speak, and they surely wouldn't know his name, either. Then, he caught the slightest movement, and recognised a jacket much too familiar. It had been his, after all, before he'd given it to you.

The pilot groaned, and Daryl recognised that tone of voice, too. He quickly fumbled about for his pocket knife, not even stopping to consider how the hell he'd be able to cut you down.

He couldn't even comprehend how you were alive-

"How's it hanging?" the voice spluttered.

-and how you'd kept that same god awful sense of humour.

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Call It Calamity.

4.2k

Hypnos/Zagreus, unrequited Thanatos/Zagreus

Warnings:just some kissing and alcohol uses. No beta at all.

Hypnos just wanted to be a good brother.

A/N: This is an au but it will run pretty close along the game, just with some differences.been wanting to write for this pairing for a while but wasn't sure I could get it right. Still don't, to be honest. Oh well hope you enjoy it.

The rumor mill was alive and well, even the underworld.

But this was a new one. And not one that Hypnos really believed.

Hypnos wasn't sure what to say when he heard that Zagreus had politely but firmly rejected Thanatos.

No one had told him really what happened, every worker shade Hypnos asked, he got a different answer.

A mistake surely. Even if Zagreus had rejected Thanatos, maybe he meant as a 'Not right now' while he worked though some family issues. And darkness knows with Hades as a father, there were issues.

Hypnos tapped his quill on his ledger, trying to listen to the shade that was telling him it was a bull shark, not a tiger shark that ate him and it was a common mistake really.

"Okay, just let me cross this out." Hypnos said, not really remembering what the shade told him. He just wrote tiger with a question mark.

His eyes kept going to the pool of Styx, waiting for Zagreus to come out. It took an hour before Hypnos just gave up. He made excuses as he quickly floated to his mother.

"Mom, have you heard?" Hypnos said quietly. He went to touch one of her flowers to fidget with something but she batted his hand away. She had gotten very fond of her purple flowers, and even taken up to watering them.

Hypnos wasn't entirely unconvinced that she didn't talk to them when no one else was around.

"Have I heard of what, my child?" Nyx asked. Her eyes watched him carefully, never leaving his face.

"About Zagreus and Thanatos. I've overheard some stuff." Hypnos leaned forward to whisper, "I doubt it is true but I haven't seen either of them."

Nyx sighed, and gave him a very pointed look. "It would be best not to bother them. This is a very personal matter, my child."

Hypnos crossed his arms, not liking the look she gave him. "I just wanted to know if you knew if Thanatos was okay since he isn't talking to me right now. I mean everyone but Zagreus seemed to know how Thanatos feels about him."

"I haven't heard anything, but even if I did this would be a matter best left alone."

Hypnos pouted, "Boo, you're no fun."

She shooed him away, a slight smile on her face. "Now go back to your work, and I will see you later."

Hypnos waved goodbye, a new plan on his mind already.

💤

It wasn't often that Hypnos traveled the underworld itself. Only when he knew Charon could see him for a chat and maybe buy something.

Thankfully for him, Zagreus left a breadcrumb trail of ruin, upset shades and broken urns everywhere.

Elysium was just as beautiful as Hypnos remembered. The lushness of it made him think of his cave with the soft as a cloud grass and poppies everywhere.

Darkness, he missed his cave. And having Thanatos closer and actually being friends with his own twin.

There was a lot he missed.

However, he didn't missed the sound of Zagreus's screams of rage. He drifted into the field and he ducked when an arrow went sailing past his head.

Zagreus in battle reminded Hypnos of the storms of old, more powerful than gods yet desperate with how little time they had left. Beautiful yet terrible.

Zagreus' sword swung down on an unlucky shade and shattered it. Zagreus stumbled backward, panting and sweating. His mismatched eyes darted around, looking for the next fighter.

Zagreus didn't see the two shades behind him, with their spear at ready. Hypnos bit his cheek for a moment, he didn't want to take the spotlight from Zagreus but he already made the trip and it would be a shame if Hypnos didn't even get to talk to Zagreus.

With a snap of his fingers, Hypnos casted a sleep spell over the shades. Zagreus whirled around, surprise on his face at the sleeping shades. After a moment, they melted away without ever waking up.

"Wow." Hypnos dragged out the word and grinned when Zagreus saw him for the first time. His mismatched eyes blinked, not quite believing what he was seeing. "Just some advice, always check behind you."

For a moment, Hypnos thought he saw a flash of hurt before Zagreus' face hardened. This was new, Hypnos mused but so was his presence.

"Hypnos, has Father sent you?" Zagreus asked quietly, his fingers curled tightly on the helt of his sword.

"Oooh, no. I came on my own will, Zagreus." Hypnos waved his hand. Zagreus didn't relax, his eyes still on Hypnos.

Hypnos rolled his eyes, "I just wanted to talk, really."

Zagreus held his battle stance for another moment, his eyes studying Hypnos' face. Then he relaxed, his lips twitched into a small, tired smile and his sword rested against him. Hypnos sighed, while this wasn't the happy, polite Zagreus he knew; this was better than the battle one he just met

"Hypnos, what could be so important you need to come out here to talk to me?" Zagreus froze, "Is everything alright at the house?"

"Yes, yes everyone is fine." Hypnos held his hands up, "I would have been waiting at the house but lately you've been taking too long to die."

Zagreus scoffed, "Excuse me?"

Hypnos wagged a finger, "You used to come back so quickly, but not anymore! Now I've to go forever without seeing your pretty little face, it's so cruel Zagreus." Hypnos joked.

He didn't see the faint blush on Zagreus' cheeks. "Haha, very funny. Alright, Hypnos what can I do for you?"

Hypnos smiled nervously,"I heard a rumour. Of course, I doubt it's true. But just in case, I heard that Thanatos had… talked with you." Hypnos hoped that Zagreus would get the meaning without Hypnos saying that his twin had hit on Zagreus.

The guilty look on Zagreus' face told Hypnos everything.

"Oh. So it is true." Hypnos said. "I mean you don't mean like forever though right?"

Zagreus ran his hand through his hair, his eyes not willing to meet Hypnos' and for some reason, it made Hypnos think of a little boy who did something he was told not to do.

"Really, I thought-" Hypnos spoke but the sharp look from Zagreus cut him off.

"Yeah, so did everyone else. Everyone but me." Zagreus snapped.

"I didn't… I just…" Zagreus struggled to find the words. "I just can't, not for Thanatos, not like that."

Hypnos didn't know what to say. So he didn't say anything. For once in his life he didn't have a smartass reply.

"I'm sorry." Hypnos said finally, "I didn't realize we put this pressure on you. You know you don't have anything to feel guilty about, right?"

Zagreus shrugged, "Is this the only reason you came out?" His toes curled in the grass, leaving burn marks there. Hypnos crocked a brow, he hadn't seen Zagreus do that since they were children.

"I think I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay. I mean I know Thanatos doesn't want to talk to me anymore but I wanted to make sure he and you, of course, were alright. I just happened to find you first."

"Oh." Zagreus said softly. Almost sadly.

Hypnos frowned, he hated when he knew there was something he was missing and he didn't know what to ask or do to get the missing piece.

"You're a good brother, Hypnos." Zagreus said, trying to sound like himself again. He glanced at the chamber's door, Charon's bag gleamed in the glass. "I have to get back to this but I will let Thanatos know you were looking for him if he even shows up..."

After a moment of just studying Zagreus, Hypnos spoke. "Alrighty, but just one more piece of advice."

Zagreus turned back to look at Hypnos, his brows raised.

"I would suggest trying not to die. Crazy, I know." Hypnos said, not able to stop his lips twitching in amusement.

Zagreus laughed,"Oh fantastic advice, like always." He smiled, a real smile and not the tired, sad one he seems to always have lately. "Even if it means you will have to suffer without seeing my pretty face?"

Hypnos places his chest on his chest in mock agony. "Anything for your happiness, Zagreus."

He grinned at Zagreus' laugh. It has been while he heard Zagreus express some else behide urgency or anger.

"Oh, and here." Hypnos tossed Zagreus a small bag who caught it easily with one hand. The obels rustled noisily and Zagreus stared down at the bag.

"Are you sure? Three hundred is a lot of obels." Zagreus blinked, his face unreadable to Hypnos.

Hypnos waved the question away, "Think of this as a bonus of dealing with me taking up your time."

He yawned loudly, "I've better get back before your father notices I am missing. Good luck!"

And with a wave that Zagreus returned, Hypnos vanished.

💤

Of course, Hades noticed the exact second Hypnos abandoned his job.

After much yelling and banging his fist on the desk, Hades freed Hypnos.

He made his own escape quickly. When Hades got like this, It was best to stay out of sight until he got angry with something else.

Hypnos realized that he had missed Zagreus' return amist Hades' raging. He felt a pang of disappointment but shrugged it off. It's not like Zagreus won't be doing another attempt soon after he had some time to lick his wounded pride.

With a sigh, Hypnos returned to his much hated duty and waved forward the next shade.

💤

It was during Hypnos' napping that Thanatos finally showed up.

Hypnos tugged his sleep mask up, "Thanatos! I haven't seen you in forever. Or weeks since the whole you know what." He beamed until he saw how cold Thanatos looked at Hypnos.

"Is everything alright? I mean I heard what happened. I think everyone did. Um, forget I said that. I tried to find you but couldn't and mom wouldn't tell me where you were-" Hypnos rambled nervously.

Thanatos closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Like Hypnos was an annoyance that he wished he could be rid of. Which hurt but Hypnos would move past the hurt if it meant he could talk to his twin again.

"I need to talk to you. Alone." Thanatos said between gritted teeth.

"Are you going to kill me?" Hypnos eyed him. "Because even though you're our mother's favorite, she would be upset with you."

"Hypnos." Thanatos snapped. "Alone. Now."

"Fine! Fine. At the old hangout?" Hypnos asked.

When Thanatos vanished without another word, Hypnos rolled his eyes and murmured "Drama queen." And without even looking at the long line of shades, he followed his brother.

When Hypnos saw his old cave, he sighed happily. The bedchambers at the house were very luxurious and all but he missed this.

Thanatos stood in the middle of the field inside the cave, his arms crossed and his eyes on the river Lethe, the mist that covered the water drifted slowly, hiding the fast undercurrent under it.

Whenever someone tried to drink from the river, Hypnos had to warn them how easy it was for Lethe to pull someone under. And there were quite a few rescues he had to make. Not all of them were successful.

Hypnos floated next to his twin, he tried to decide what to say but settled on waiting for Thanatos to speak.

"Zagreus is getting closer to the surface." Thanatos said quietly, breaking the almost comfortable silence for the first time.

"So, he is." Hypnos agreed. "Once he gets a handle on the damn Satyrs, I don't think anything will be able to stop him."

Hypnos looked at Thanatos as he talked. "Hades had been leaving his desk more often."

Thanatos just nodded, the weight of the unspoken words, of their knowledge, of what hurt that Zagreus will have to face alone weighed on both brothers.

Hypnos stopped floating and stood, they were of equal height and for some reason, Hypnos felt this would be fair for both of them.

"Is this the only reason why you wanted to talk to me? Not anything else, you know like why don't we talk anymore?" Hypnos asked.

"I just don't understand." Thanatos said.

Hypnos tilted his head in confusion. "We all know why he really wants up there, Mom told us, remember? We would do the same in his place."

Thanatos shook his head, "Maybe not all of us. But that isn't what I'm talking about."

For the first time since coming into the cave, Thanatos looked at him. Hypnos was surprised by how sad he looked. There weren't tears but there didn't need to be.

"I don't understand what I don't have but you do." Thanatos said, his mouth twisted.

"Okay, now I don't understand." Hypnos said, "I don't have anything you don't. Unless you count our powers."

Thanatos rolled his eyes, like Hypnos was being dense on purpose. "Haven't Zagreus talked to you?"

"Sure, you mean about your feelings, right? He felt guilty, brother. He really did." Hypnos tapped his fingers against his belt, just to be able to touch something.

Thanatos didn't say anything for a few minutes then he sighed. "So he hasn't then."

"No we did, I found him in Elysium. We talked some." Hypnos watched Thanatos' face carefully, for any hints of what to say.

"Tell me brother, why did you, upon hearing Zagreus rejected me, seek him out?" Thanatos' eyes narrowed at him.

"I was worried! For the both of you. We all thought you guys were it, you know?" Hypnos pushed away the guilt he felt, he had no reasons for it. He never did anything to wreck Thanatos' chances. Not that he would be able to anyway.

"Oh, is that it? Do you really think I would buy that? I saw how your eyes followed him, you know."

Hypnos closed his mouth with a clink of his teeth, and both brothers stared each other down.

Hypnos crossed his arm to match Thanatos. "I have never said or done anything. I knew you cared for him, Thanatos. I wouldn't hurt you like that."

"Not even if Zagreus wanted you?" Thanatos asked.

"It is not really a problem since I can assure you that is not the case." Hypnos said dryly, not happy that Thanatos brought up the impossible.

Thanatos scoffed a laugh at him,"You're an idiot." And he stepped away, not even looking at Hypnos anymore. "I've been away from my job long enough and so have you. Goodbye, Hypnos."

"Hey-" Hypnos reached for his brother but was already gone.

Hypnos gave a shout of resentment, of hurt and kicked the grass. It didn't help the anger so he kicked again and again.

He sat down next to the river, crossed legged and head in his hands.

He loved his brother, really he did but blood and darkness he wanted to shake him sometimes.

💤

When he made it back, Hades wasn't at his desk. Hypnos' heart sank, and he just hoped Zagreus would be able to push through this escape.

Thankfully it wasn't that attempt or the one after that.

It was during Hypnos dealing with two shades, a pair of sisters, arguing over who was at fault for the cart tipping over when Zagreus' name appeared on his ledger. Next to his name, the word Redacted appeared.

Hades did it. The bastard really killed his own son. Hypnos' mouth twisted, anger burned hot in his chest. He would have to play dumb, the less Hades knew what Hypnos and his family knew, the better.

Hypnos looked over the still arguing sisters and noted down, 'killed by inability to communicate with their sibling.'

Hypnos totally wasn't projecting his own issues.

He saw Zagreus step out of the Styx. Even bloodied, Hypnos could see what his brother liked about Zagreus. Zagreus shook off the blood, and Hypnos' eyes unwillingly followed his movements.

Nope, Hypnos tore his eyes away. He didn't see anything, he told himself. Just his brother's crush, he reminded himself. Even if Zagreus didn't return Thanatos' feelings, Hypnos wouldn't do that to his brother.

"Hypnos." Zagreus greeted him and before Hypnos could respond, Zagreus shoved a bottle of nectar in his face. Hypnos grabbed it before he knew what it was and blinked at it.

"Oh for me? You shouldn't have!" Hypnos grinned. He shook the bottle gently, the liquid glittered in the candle light.

"It's my thanks for the gift you gave me before. It was a huge help." Zagreus said softly.

"Anything for you, Zagreus." Hypnos grinned. He could see a sadness that cling to Zagreus, and wondered if he should say something. His chest twisted with how helpless he felt. He wanted to take away the sadness and make sure he never felt it again.

"Do you want to go see my old hangout?" Hypnos said before he could stop himself. Zagreus perked up a little, "The cave, right?"

Hypnos grabbed Zagreus' shoulder and pulled him along for the ride. The sisters are still loudly arguing in front of the line.

💤

It was nice to return a second time. It was much calmer than the house. The house carried a heaviness to it that made it hard to call it home. And Hypnos had no plans for staying forever in that place.

Inside the cave, it was lit only by the numerous candles that floated about and the river Lethe's own light but it was enough to see most of the field inside.

Zagreus immediately began walking around, his eyes drifting from the river to candles to the little poppies dotted the land to the cottonwood that lined the cave's wall. Hypnos just watched him explore.

"This is much more calming than the house." Zagreus said as he turned back to Hypnos. "Why do you stay at the house? This seems much more like you."

Hypnos floated closer to Zagreus, "It was part of the whole deal, me and everyone else had to stay at the house. Or close to it, so Hades could 'keep an eye on us'. Charon is the only exception because he bonded too close to the Styx to stay long."

At his father's name, Zagreus sighed bitterly. "I swear, that old man causes everyone problems and for no good reasons."

"You telling me." Hypnos agreed. Normally he would try to be nicer but the word Redacted flashed into his mind. And an overwhelming sense of anger for Zagreus who just wanted to see his mother again.

"Come on, I know where the comfortable spots are." Hypnos floated toward the river, waving Zagreus along.

He and Zagreus sat close to the river, where the most plush grass grew. It took Zagreus a few minutes to settle, as if he had forgotten what it was like not to move all the time.

Zagreus's fingers dipped into the mist as Hypnos worked the cork out the bottle.

One loud pop later, and the sweet nectar was his. He took a sip from the bottle and hummed. "Thanks. Do you want some?" Hypnos wiggled the bottle, thinking Zagreus would say no like he normally did.

But Zagreus didn't this time. "Sure, thank you." He took the bottle from Hypnos and hummed at the taste.

Hypnos tried not to think about the fact Zagreus' mouth was where he was a moment ago.

Zagreus grimaced as he handed back the bottle, "I forgot how strong those are."

"Lightweight." Hypnos teased, his tone fond and Zagreus shoved at his shoulder with a laugh. He took a big sip and handed it back to Zagreus.

It's not weird if you don't make it weird, Hypnos told himself.

They passed the drink a few more times, until it was close to being empty. "Want the last bit?" Hypnos asked, feeling a slight buzz. Zagreus shook his head, his cheeks were more flushed than Hypnos.

Zagreus looked good like this, flushed and relaxed, and it took all of Hypnos' willpower to pull his eyes away.

Hydnos tossed the now empty bottle next to him and sighed. He bit his cheek, this was probably a mistake but Thanatos' words had been haunting him.

"Have Thanatos checked up on you?" Hypnos tugged at the grass, trying not to think about how close Zagreus was.

Zagreus shrugged, "Not really. He had been helping in some of the fights but he disappeared before I could talk to him."

"He had a weird conversation with me. First time in months that he talked to me and it was about you." Hypnos grumbled.

Zagreus' shoulders tensed up and he wouldn't look at Hypnos. "I have to apologize, Hypnos. I think I might have made it worse between you and Thanatos."

"Zagreus, whatever is going on with Thanatos and me has been going on for a long while. There was nothing you did to cause this rift." Hypnos leaned back on his hands. "I know he cares for you, always has. It was a weird conversation. He sounded like- like… I don't know. I can't explain it."

Zagreus said nothing to that. Hypnos noticed how Zagreus' toes curled into the grass. He almost said something about it but he didn't want Zagreus to get self conscious and stop so he kept his mouth shut.

Zagreus plucked a nearby poppy, full bloom and a vivid red. He spinned between his fingers before he turned to Hypnos who crooked a brow at him. Zagreus very carefully placed the flower on Hypnos' ear and smiled, "That is a good look for you."

Hypnos snorted, "Your highness, I do believe you're a little drunk right now." He grinned at the pout Zagreus gave him.

Zagreus simply plucked another poppy, and placed it in one of Hypnos' curls. His hand stopped and Zagreus lightly stroked his hair.

"Hypnos, would I upset you if I try something?" Zagreus asked softly.

"Probably not, you are already putting flowers in my hair." Hypnos said, alarm bells were going off in his head but he couldn't be bothered to listen.

Zagreus cupped the back of Hypnos' head, fingers buried in his curls and pulled him into a chaste kiss.

Hypnos' heart stopped for a moment and suddenly the talk he had with Thanatos came back in sharp clarity.

But all Hypnos knew at this second was how nectar tasted on Zagreus' lips and how warm the prince of the underworld felt.

Hypnos knew he was going to hate himself for this. But he did it anyway. May the fates and Thanatos forgive him, but Hypnos knew this would be the first and last time.

Hypnos pressed into the kiss, pleased at the soft gasp Zagreus gave and slowly they both deepened the kiss.

Hypnos wrapped an arm around Zagreus' waist and pulled him closer. They broke the kiss for a moment, for breath but Zagreus quickly returned.

Hypnos felt like he was drowning. Between the sweetness of Zagreus's kisses, the shared heat between them and his guilt of doing this, Hypnos was sure he might be going mad.

After somewhere between an eternity and a few minutes, Hypnos pulled away. He and Zagreus stared at each other, lips full and cheeks equally flushed.

Hypnos stared, trying to remember everything of this moment. His heart felt so full but he already could feel the cracks forming.

Zagreus was so beautiful, so unlike anything or anyone else he ever saw. Hypnos loved him for that reason alone.

"Zagreus-" Hypnos' voice cracked, "I can't, you have to understand. I really can't, not to my brother."

Zagreus shushed him, cupped Hypnos' face in his hands. "I know. You're a good brother."

And Zagreus kissed him again. Hypnos went along almost mindlessly.

"If I could, I would." Hypnos murmured against Zagreus' lips.

Zagreus pressed a quick kiss before pulling away. "You can, I'm willing to deal with whatever happens, are you?"

Hypnos hated how much he wanted to bend to Zagreus, to give in. "My brother will never forgive me.* He said weakly.

"He will, he is your brother and he loves you too. He just has a different way of showing it."

Hypnos mutely shook his head and Zagreus sighed.

"I will wait then. However long it will take." Zagreus said decidedly.

"What? Zagreus, no I can't do that to you." Hypnos looked into Zagreus' eyes as he pressed his forehead against Zagreus'. "Listen, I don't know if he and I will ever be friends again and I don't want you to lose out on something because you are waiting around for me to get my stuff together."

"I already decided. You're not the only with stuff left unfinished. I still need to find my mother and deal with my father. Will you wait for me?" Zagreus asked softly.

"Centuries-" Zagreus kissed him but Hypnos kept talking. "Millenniums. Zagreus, I didn't know this was a possibility. I thought you wouldn't even look at me twice."

"I thought you didn't notice me, Hypnos. I thought you just saw me as someone bothering you with how paperwork I must create."

"How could I not notice you, Zagreus? I just couldn't do anything about it." Hypnos said helplessly.

His and Zagreus' eyes meet, and Hypnos' heart shattered. He knew it was decided the moment they kissed, they would have to deal with the consequences of their actions. With his brother, with Zagreus' own family and everything else he couldn't think about right now.

But at least, it would be together.

This time Hypnos pulled Zagreus into a kiss.

All in due time. For now, Hypnos wanted to enjoy this time for as long as he could.

Fin

[alice-angel12x]

💔Bunny!Shouto x Bunny!Reader

Beastar/hybrid/ Fantasy AU

[In this story everyone is a hybrid with animal instincts, and major height difference depending on the animals like in beastars. And magic exists. And sorry if Shouto seems out of character for you.]

"Shouto where are you?!" Y/n called for her friend.

Sadly Shouto's mind was elsewhere, for he had fallen in love with the wolf princess Momo. Every day he would sit at the edge of cottonwood village and gaze upon The princess from afar.

"Shouto, there you are," Y/n said with a smile.

But that quickly turned into a sad frown as she saw Shouto eyeing the crescent castle. Kingdom of the wolves. Know most would wonder, why is there a rabbit village a hop skip, and a jump away from a wolf kingdom. Well, every time the village tries to move away rogue wolves would attack. Yet once they got close to the castle they would quickly run away. The king of the wolves claimed that as long as they stayed within the boundaries of the kingdom, they would protect them. Y/n never bought that. She noticed that once every year one rabbit from the village would disappear. Many believed it was from the rogue wolves, sneaking in and past the guards. So Y/n was worried about her friend falling in love with a wolf, a rabbit falling in love with a wolf.

"Oh Hi, Y/n," was all he said not even turning to look at her.

"How are you feeling, you know since spring is coming up?" Y/n asked him slowly.

"I'm fine," was all he said. "How about you,"

"I'm good still looking for my prince charming you know," Y/n said wistfully.

"You so childish," Shouto said as he finally turned to her.

"I'm 16 what's so childish about that?" Y/n asked as she turned to head back to the village.

Cottonwood Village is a quaint little town of Rabbits. In the middle of the village was a large cottage where the leader/mayor lived with his family, Shouto's family. The leader was endeavor Shouto's father, he was a part of the group of rabbits that believed the wolves were hiding something.

"Does your father know about your umm, dream girl?" Y/n asked.

"My father already has enough control of my life, I'm not about to let him control my love life," Shouto said coldly.

"You shouldn't get too close to the castle, it's dangerous," Y/n said in a worried tone.

"I know your thoughts on Wolves Y/n. But the wolves have shown use that they have other alternative foods. Like soy and bean-made meat," Shouto explained.

"It's easy to say that when it's not someone you care about goes missing," Y/n muttered bitterly, but Shouto sadly heard her.

"Y/n, it was the rogues that got your brother. And the Kingdom felt with them remember," Shouto sighed in annoyance.

"Shouto are you sure you love this wolf girl or is this just one of your I just wanna piss off my dad things?" Y/n asked bitterly.

"If You don't like it then you could always find someone else to hang out with, Y/n!" Shouto said as his left side lit up in flames.

Y/n quickly ran off, startled by Shouto's flame magic. Shouto sighed in frustration as he realized he used his father's Flames. After that Shouto avoided Y/n like the plague, and it didn't help that his father eventually found out Shouto was in love with a wolf. Endeavor did not like that, so he started setting updates for Shouto to try to take his mind off Momo.

Y/n tried to apologize and rekindle with him, but he would only give her the cold shoulder.

Y/n could see the sorrow and anger Shouto was in, so she barrier her feelings for him and braved the dark forest. She heard rumors that a powerful owl named All For One could perform miracles, even change species. She eventually found him a creepy old owl.

"E-excuse me, sir," Y/n stuttered as the owl turned his head 180° to look at her.

"I wanted to know if you had the power to change a person's species?"

"Yes indeed child, and what species would you like to be, but it will cost you," All for One chuckled.

"How much would it cost?" She asked.

"Half of your soul. Your life Will be cut in half. You'll live to about 25 for you," he answered as he towered over Y/n.

"I would like to pay for someone. If a red and white male rabbit comes and asks to change him, please take my soul," Y/n said in confidence.

"You young people always ready to throw your life away," he muttered as ripped out half of Y/n's soul.

And with that, she quickly ran back to the village, with Half of her soul in toe. She managed to track down Shouto and told him about All for One but left out the part of selling half of her soul.

Shouto did not waste time to find the owl and demand him to turn him into a wolf.

____________ [4 years later]

It has been 4 years since I changed into a wolf. When I changed, I found myself waking up in a large bed. I was found by Princess Momo herself. She helped was so sweet and kind, and was more than happy to explain wolf society. When I told her I was raised by Herbavoir animals. I was an Omega, while She was an Alpha.

Yet I enjoyed the times we spent together, I had never felt so free. She would help my heats or anything that confused me. It took a while to get used to eating soy meat, but I didn't mind all that much. All for One said he could change me and give me Wolf-like instincts, but he couldn't remove my Rabbit instincts. So it took a long time to suppress those instincts.

°° Today Momo had important meetings, so I was left to my own devices. So I decided to take a stroll through the forest. As I wandered through the forest I could hear humming coming from a nearby river. I peaked out from behind the tree, too see a rabbit bathing in the river. I recognized that rabbit, with her lovely H/c hair and beautiful snow-white rabbit ears and Tail.

"Y/n?" I called out to her.

Y/n quickly turned around to face me as she covered her chest with her arms. As my eyes took in all of her details I could feel the rest of the world fading away. It was just me and Y/n. In my new wolf body, Y/n looked so small compared to me now.

She matured a lot over these past 4 years. For some reason I couldn't see her as the childish dreamer 4 years ago, I couldn't figure out why.

"Umm hello Shouto, your taller," Y/n said as she started backing away.

"I-it's good to see you again Y/n," stuttered as I felt the heat rush to my face.

She smiled sweetly at me as she grabbed her robes as he made her way over to you. Seeing her standing In front of me was odd. I remember when I was still a rabbit I was just a few inches taller than her. But now she just barely reached my mid waist.

We sat under a tree and talked for hours about what had happened to me. And she sat there and listened very closely. Her robes v neck was very revealing and I started to feel hot.

She seemed to notice as she got and started to walk with a slight sway in her hips. A dormant instinct awakens within me as the rabbit inside me begged to go after her.

"It seems you're a bit too excited to see me. If I remember correctly I was too childish for you~," She said with a smooth seductive voice.

I had to hold back the Rabbit instincts as I watched cross to the other side of the river.

"I'm afraid I have to leave now, spring is just around the corner after all~," She cooed as she disappeared behind the trees.

I felt hot in a certain place as I felt my tail wag uncontrollably on the ground. That wasn't the last time I went out to see Y/n. Anytime Momo was busy I would meet Y/n by the river and we would talk.

One day it was a particularly hot day as I made my way to Y/n's meet site. Today she was wearing a large floppy sun hat and a cute spring dress.

"So what us Momo like?" Y/n asked curiously.

"She's wonderful, she's kind, smart, and gentle," I said to her as I started to talk about my fiance.

"Hey Shouto are you okay, you seem sluggish today and in pain?" Y/n asked worriedly.

"Oh don't worry, I'm going into heat soon. So I'll be sore for a while, the downsides to being an Omega wolf," I explained.

"That sucks, is there any way I can help you?" Y/n asked as she hugged my neck. She smelled like a field of wildflowers, I couldn't help but return her hug.  ---

As The two old friends were talking they failed to notice two figures creeping behind them. Before Y/n could react, a large hand grabbed her by the ears and lifted her off the ground. She screamed and thrashed against her captors. Shouto quickly got up and tackled the man as he pulled Y/n into his arms and ran.

"It's the rogues, we need to head back to the castle," Shouto struggled to say as he ran.

But as he ran his body began to ache and became heavy. His vision started to blur and his steps became uncertain. Shouto tripped and tumbled down the hill with Y/n in toe. As he collapsed on the ground his eyes slowly closed as his body gave out.

"SHOUTO, PLEASE WAKE UP!!'' was the last thing he heard.

------

As my eyes opened up, I found myself in my room or my nest. suddenly Momo came in with her usual sweet smile.

" Good your fully awake, it's good to see you took well to the stew," she smiled as she picked up the empty bowl next to me.

"W-what happened to me," Shouto asked as he tried to sit up.

" You're in your heat, but it is taking a larger toll on you because your body lacks certain nutrients that soy meat can't provide. So our hunters found a rabbit near you and gave her to our chiefs and made you rabbit stew," Momo explained.

Shouto felt his whole world shatter as his stomach noted and squeezed.

"Oh, my maid is coming with more stew. Today's rabbit such a delicious flavor," Momo said as she rubbed her finger in the empty bowl and licked off the stew on her finger.

Shouto began to tremble as the truth sank into him. His stomach lurched in disgust as he sat up and leaned onto a nearby wall. Soon a maid came in with a fresh bowl of ... Rabbit... Soup. Shouto tried to back away only for his back to meet another wall. The maid scooped a spoon full of Stew with a generous amount of cooked meat chunks.

"Open your mouth," the maid said using her Alpha order.

Shouto's omega body slowly opened its mouth, despite Shouto's wishes. As the maid feeds him a spoonful of rabbit stew. The maid ordered him to chew and swallow, and he did. Heavy tears ran down Shouto's face as his body betrayed him. It felt like an eternity to finish the entire bowl of Stew.

____

Soon as the maid left Shouto pushed himself onto his feet and made his way down to the kitchen.

'It couldn't be Y/n right? She must have run away to safety,' he thought to himself.

As he entered he saw the chief with a cloth sack ready to be thrown out. Shouto quickly offered to take it out for them as a thank you for the meal. And the chief happily gave the sac to Shouto.

Once he was out he ran deep into the forest and opened the bag to see a fresh skeleton of a small rabbit. But inside he pulled out a familiar sun hat and spring dress. His stomach lurched and forced up the stew into a nearby bush.

"I... I ate her!! I ate Y/n', His mind screamed in shame, disgust, and sorrow as he began to sob.

Flashes of Y/n's beautiful smile and lively eyes appeared in his mind.

He held up Y/n's dress, it looked so small. The perfect size for a Pup maybe, but he knew this dress was the size for a fully grown rabbit, a young woman. He held the dress close to his chest like he was Hugging Y/n again.

Shouto with his head low he snuck back to his nest. Laying down he slowly pushed away most of the fabric Momo scented as he held Y/n's dress close to him. He could still smell the field of wildflowers on her dress.

"I can still smell you Y/n," He whimpered to himself.

[wanderinginksplot]

Hello! Um, how about Wrecker with a s/o who has severe childhood trauma, and has a hard time opening up to people other than him?

Hello! First off, thank you so much for this request! It was a good challenge. Secondly, I am so sorry this took as long as it has. I had a pretty uneventful childhood, so I ended up doing a lot of research to write this right, and then I rewrote it about a dozen times... anyway, trauma is only minimally mentioned (at least directly), but I hope you like it!

Wrecker + Traumatized Reader

How did it go today, cyare?" Wrecker asked, dropping a kiss on your cheek. He had just gotten home from a shorter mission with his squad and began stripping off his armor while he waited for your answer.

You always felt silly complaining to him. The things that troopers saw and had to deal with on a daily basis were so much worse than you saw - especially since you were permanently stationed on Coruscant. Still, from the expectant look he sent over his shoulder, Wrecker was waiting for an answer.

"Well…" you started slowly, not sure how much information he wanted, "I think it went okay? The board seemed to like the presentation. The Head Commander said the lack of internal life support in the Phase II armor is an issue they've been looking at for some time. I’m supposed to work on a follow-up. I might throw together some preliminary schematics for a Phase III armor set…"

“Sounds like it went great!” Wrecker encouraged, interrupting you before you could get too lost in your engineering thoughts. You had been known not to emerge for days once you got started. “You've been practicing this presentation forever."

You grinned at him. "Thanks again for being my test audience. I know it isn't something you're really interested in. You guys don’t even wear the Phase II."

"No, but I like listening to you talk," Wrecker told you unabashedly. 

You shook your head a bit at that. "You're such a sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?"

"There's a group of Seppies in the Guard's cells who didn't think I was sweet at all," he told you, sounding mystified. "If it wasn't for Cross, I wouldn't have gotten outta there at all."

You tensed a bit at that, and not only from the reminder of how dangerous his job could be. You knew what was coming. It was only a matter of time… 

"Have you thought any more about it?" Kriff. There it was. You wanted to snap at him, remind him that he was pushing a very firm boundary, but Wrecker sounded so hopeful…

"I- I just don't know, Wreck," you admitted miserably. "I know they're your brothers and I want to meet them, but… it's a lot."

"That's okay," Wrecker said comfortingly. He was doing his best to reassure you, but you could hear the clear note of disappointment in his voice.

Your heart plummeted to your toes. Why couldn't you do this for him? Wrecker was the best, most considerate boyfriend in the galaxy. He was willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of the galaxy, for your safety.

"Okay, let's do it," you agreed abruptly. "When do you want to have me meet them?"

"Really?" Wrecker asked, a smile like dawn warming his face.

You nodded and forced an answering smile. You weren't sure how you would handle the pressure of meeting the other members of the Bad Batch, but for Wrecker? You would figure it out.

He ran off to contact the others and your smile faded instantly. From everything Wrecker had told you, Tech was nice and Hunter was quiet, but Crosshair was rarely anything other than abrasive and rude. And that was to his brothers.

You fought a shudder. Being snipped at always reminded you of growing up - and not in a good way. Sarcastic comments were always the first step, then objective-sounding remarks, and then… You didn’t want to think about what had always come next.

But still, this was important to Wrecker, and you were determined to try.

---

The next day, you were anxiously fiddling with your sleeve as you walked to the GAR with Wrecker beside you. The height difference between you always made you feel like a child being escorted around by an adult, but Wrecker normally took your teasing complaints as the jokes that they were. 

You weren’t saying anything at all that day.

“Hey,” Wrecker said gently, grabbing your hand and stilling the fingers that were slowly unraveling your sleeve. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at him. “What if they don’t like me?”

Wrecker made a strangled sound, like he had started to laugh but thought better of it. “Of course they’re going to like you! Why wouldn’t they like you? And even if they hated you, I like you. And I’m the important one here.”

You wanted to laugh at his exaggerated pout, but the corners of your mouth felt like they were attached to weights as you gave a tight nod and refocused on walking. Wrecker, however, wasn’t having it. Using the light grip he still had on your hands, he tugged you to a stop, forcing the rest of the foot traffic to part around his broad figure as he bent to talk to you.

“Say the word, cyare, and we’ll go home right now.”

“What? No!” you denied immediately. “I said I would meet your brothers, and I meant it. Why? Have you decided you don’t want them to meet me?”

“Of course I want you to meet them!” Wrecker told you. He brushed a hand against your face, smoothing the frown line you could feel forming between your eyebrows. “But I don’t like seeing you this way. If it’s too much, we don’t have to do this. I meant what I said: we can go home right now.”

You searched his face and found only heartwarming sincerity. He meant it. If you said you weren't up for this, he wouldn't be upset or hurt. He wouldn't sulk or find ways to punish you. Nothing would change between you. 

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," you assured him.

Wrecker was your safe space - the exact opposite of everything you had dealt with growing up. He pushed your boundaries, but he made you stronger. As you tripped through the crowd by his side, the idea soothed you more and more until you couldn't stand it.

"Wrecker, wait," you pled, pulling on his arm. 

It was a surprise he had even felt the pull, honestly, but he was so attuned to you that he stopped immediately. He looked down at you with open concern. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I love you," you blurted, and your face grew hot so quickly that you felt a little dizzy.

"You love me?" Wrecker asked, sounding stunned.

"…yeah…" you said slowly. You weren't really sure why you had needed to say it right that moment, but you knew that you meant it. Wrecker was everything to you, and it had been enough to prompt an admission of feelings that you had never thought you would be able to verbalize.

He was still staring at you and you were getting nervous. "Anyway, we should probably get to the GAR," you told him, striving for a casual tone.

"Forget the GAR! You love me!" The next thing you knew, Wrecker had lifted you up and spun in a quick circle that left you dizzy for sure this time. "I love you, too! We need to go celebrate!"

He set you down and had started down the street in the direction you had come from, dragging you along by your hand as you alternated between laughing and trying to get him to stop.

"Wreck, we can't just not show up to meet your brothers," you protested. "They're waiting for us!"

Wrecker paused, glanced back at you, and heaved a deep sigh. "Fine," he grumbled, walking back toward your original destination. "They get twenty minutes, then I need you all to myself."

The dark-eyed look he sent your way made your mouth go dry. "Fifteen minutes."

He laid a searing kiss on your lips. "Deal."

---

To your shock, the Bad Batch was less intimidating than you had thought they would be. Hunter even made an effort to talk to you.

“So, what is it you do for the GAR?” he asked, dark eyes startling in his half-tattooed face.

“I- uh, I’m an engineer,” you explained. “I helped design the updates implemented in the Phase II trooper armor. Joint Kamino-Coruscant effort and all of that. I didn’t have anything to do with commando armor, though.”

Hunter shrugged. “Still, I’ve heard good things about the Phase II. You did nice work.”

“Thanks!” you said, only slightly too loud. “There are a few things that got lost in translation due to budgetary issues. One of my ideas was to add in a new scope for the larger rifles, one that would acclimate to counter visual disruptions. Brightness, direct sunlight, reflections, and so on. It had a couple other features that were popular with the ARCs and commandos who tested it. Alpha-17 on Kamino said he was keeping his, even though it was just a prototype.”

“Wish I coulda seen that,” Crosshair muttered, his first contribution to the conversation.

“You kind of can,” you offered. “I have a few prototypes left. I brought one along in case you wanted to give me any feedback. I still have hopes for the Phase III…”

Crosshair eyed the scope you were holding out to him, face full of suspicion even as he accepted it from you. He examined it closely for several minutes, dialing in and out of various features as you watched. Eventually, he nodded and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Looks good,” he reluctantly praised, handing the scope back.

You didn’t take it from him. “Actually, that’s a tactical prototype. If you were interested, I would love for you to use it in the field as long as you let me know how it holds up.”

Crosshair’s eyebrows shot up and he chewed his toothpick thoughtfully as he stared at the scope. You weren’t above a little bribery, and had made a few tweaks based on Crosshair’s preferences. Granted, those preferences had been relayed by Wrecker, a man whose go-to weapon was bare hands… 

To distract yourself, you looked to Tech. He had been quiet, almost silent, for most of the meeting. From everything you had been told, that was unusual. 

“Tech, Wrecker tells me that you’ve been analyzing statistical data about your squad to maximize your effectiveness. What kind of variance are you looking at?”

Tech stared at you for a long moment. “A difficult question to answer, as the variance has increased significantly since you and Wrecker met.”

“Excuse me?” you asked politely, taken aback by his implication.

“The frequency at which Wrecker is injured has increased by roughly 2.7% since the two of you started your relationship.”

“Tech,” Hunter reprimanded sharply.

“Ease off,” Crosshair said, voice low.

You glanced at Wrecker, sitting tensely beside you. “You didn’t tell me you were getting hurt on your missions.”

“Just a little,” he admitted, glaring at Tech.

“By my calculations, this places his risk of a fatal accident at 9% and growing,” Tech finished, unbothered by Wrecker’s glare or his brothers’ words of warning. “Added to the fact that Wrecker wears less armor than a trooper of his size should, he is highly at risk.”

“What is this about your armor?” you asked Wrecker, pinching his side when he avoided looking your way.

“Hey! That hurt!” he complained, finally looking down at you.

“Not as bad as a piece of shrapnel would!” you lectured him. “As soon as we get home, I’m going to start working on a better set of armor for you. I have some leftover plates from the commando armor comparison. I can use that as a basis…”

“What about your Phase III?” Wrecker asked, a bit desperately.

“That doesn’t matter!” you snapped. “If I can’t keep you safe, none of it matters! I’m designing heavy-duty armor for you, you’ll participate in extra drills with your team until you get used to it, and I want a report on every injury, minor or not!”

“Told you,” Hunter said, sounding satisfied.

“Five credits,” Crosshair sighed.

“The deal was twenty,” Tech argued, then allowed himself a small smile. “I like them.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed.

Crosshair, studying his new scope, just nodded. You caught only bits of their conversation, though, since you were still semi-arguing with Wrecker.

“C’mon, let’s go back to your place,” Wrecker pled.

“So I can get started on your armor right away?” you asked. “Good idea!”

“But… you love me,” Wrecker pouted.

You softened and leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, ignoring the scoffs and smothered chuckles from his brothers. “I do, Wrecker. I love you so much that I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. Now let’s go.”

Wrecker sighed heavily, but clambered to his feet and waved goodbye to his brothers as he followed you out.

---

A/N - I don’t actually know if the Bad Batch wears Phase II clone trooper armor or Katarn-class commando armor, so I just went with commando armor and modified helmets.

Thanks for reading! You can see other works like it here or feel free to request something of your own!

[unbridgeabledistances]

ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3

anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)

in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3

(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)

--

There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.

It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:

“You could try swimming across the border.”

“I never learned how, man.”

And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”

It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.

Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”

Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.

Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:

“I wanna try something today.”

Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.

Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.

“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.

Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.

“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”

Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.

Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.

Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.

“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”

And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.

“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”

Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”

Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.

Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.

“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”

Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C’mon.”

Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.

“You coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.

“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.

Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”

Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”

Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.

With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.

“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”

Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.

“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”

Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.  

“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”

They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.

Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!”

Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.

Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.

“Truce!”

Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.

“Truce.”

Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”

Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”

Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”

Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”

Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.

“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”

Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”

Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”

Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.

“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”

Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.

“Little help here, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.

He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”

Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.

Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”

He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.

“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”

As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.

Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.

And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.

Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.

Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.

And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.

Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing—  it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.

It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.

By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.

Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.

They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.

Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.  

Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity  zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.

Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.

**

Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.

Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”

Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”

[ssamie]

epilogue. “your girlfriend’s kinda hot”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide and suggestive themes + dirty jokes

masterlist.          suicide freak!

"hey uh, welcome to my stream i guess" he said as he spared the camera a quick glance "im not really playing tonight because an incident has recently occurred in this household" kenma said with a tired sigh 

nobody else knew it, but the said 'incident' was y/n accidentally setting half of their living room on fire 

the reason? apparently, she wanted to try burning herself to death in the furnace. obviously, it didn't work. and all that's left from that is more shit for kenma to clean up and a trip to yosano-san. 

kenma is stressed. and y/n is still alive. both of them are facing problems. 

"can you please wear a maid outfit- no."

kenma shook his head as he continued playing, glancing at the chat once in a while to read the veiwers' questions and comments

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: how about cat ears?! 

user: ^^ cATBOY CATBOY CATBOY 

user: u suck at this game wtf

kuroo.tetsu: hey kenma ;) 

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"first of all, i do not suck at minecraft thank you very much" kenma scoffed 

"second of all, go away kuroo. im still mad at you" 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: LMFAOOO kuroo what did u do?? 💀💀

user: he probably broke kenma's pc 

user: PLSS he's the one kenma’s throwing shade at on twitter 

kuroo.tetsu: STOP THE SLANDER 😔✋🏼

user: rooster head lookin ass 

user: ^^ NOT THE HAIR 

kuroo.testsu: 😃😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma sighed as he continued building a cute little cottage. he was currently vibing, just building y/n a cute cottage for her to probably burn later on. 

and he decided it would be nice to go on stream since his oh-so-lovely girlfriend was still out for work. 

ah yes, kenma has somehow kept y/n alive all those years. 

barely. 

hence why his phone was being bombarded with messages from her, all of which being blurry selfies. 

the photos had her sporting a huge grin while atsushi panicked in the background. 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: ayo, ur phone's blowing up 

user: do you have a girlfriend? 

user: KODZUKEN LET ME SUCK UR TOES 😋😋🤩

user: ^ ayo chill 😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma simply ignored them and continued on with his task. all was going well until a loud slam was heard. his cat-like eyes widened as he heard a familiar voice singing from downstairs, it was undoubtedly y/n. 

kenma chuckled nervously and muted his mic. 

but of course, cute dumb catboy didn't actually mute his mic. haha <3

he ignored all the questions in the chat, all of them being  speculations that he has a girlfriend. which he does, but they simply did not need to know that <3

"kenma~" she yelled out "i have a surprise for you!!" she said, followed by menacing giggles. 

kenma glanced at the camera before hopping off his gaming chair and peeking his head out of the door. 

"y/n, im streaming!! stay down there!" he yelled out in panic 

"aw, you're playing hard to get aren't ya?" she chuckled 

kenma deadpanned as he saw her limping up the stairs, with her bandages torn and unravelled, same with her clothes. he didn't really think much of it since this is usually how she comes home. 

its most likely just due to work and/or another suicide attempt.

"so, kenma.. you'll never know what just happened to me today" she started off with a goofy grin 

"im streaming, atleast let me turn it off first-" 

she paid no mind to him as she peeled off her ruined coat and pointed to her poorly bandaged stomach

"i got stabbed!" 

"you got what?!"

kenma furrowed his brows as he immediately rushed over to his side, cradling her face and waist as he inspected her injuries

"are you okay, kitten?" he asked worriedly 

"yep, apparently it wasnt deep enough to be fatal" she sighed dejectedly 

"please don't be sad about that." kenma groaned "can you undress?" 

"ara ara~ whats this?" she cooed "you're getting real bold, kenma" she smirked at him 

she unbuttoned her shirt and started pulling down on her skirt "but since you asked so nicely-" 

kenma simply sighed and shook his head. "i was gonna prepare you a bath but now im considering leaving you here to die" 

"but the second option would've been better though" she smiled at him 

"oh my fucking god." 

kozume kenma. (22)

╰─▸ university student, stock trader, pro-gamer, youtuber, ceo of bouncing ball lpt. 

╰─▸ y/n's struggling boyfriend. definitely needs a pay after all he's been through.

╰─▸ currently panicking because his girlfriend got stabbed.

l/n y/n. (22)

╰─▸ operative/member of the armed detective agency. 

╰─▸ kenma's girlfriend. kinda dumb, very hot to compensate for it. still hasn't died yet. 

╰─▸ currently bleeding and wounded. also hoping for severe blood loss.

"kenma, did you know" she mused in a teasing tone "lack of sleep and too much stress could possibly lead to poor memory and lack of awareness" 

kenma looked up at her with a look of confusion. he was currently kneeled down before her while she was sat on the bed as he cleaned her wound up with a damp towel. 

"why are you telling me this?" he asked 

"i just thought it probably applied to you" she snickered 

"why? i didnt forget anything-" 

he cut himself off with a huge intake of air. he slowly turned his head to look at the screen which still had his stream going on. to make it worse, the camera was on and they were both clearly in the camera's field of view. 

to make things worse worse, his mic was on the whole time and the live chat was in shambles. 

"i hate it here" he sighed 

kenma laid his head on her lap as he continued on patching her up, honestly not caring that this whole scene was being recorded for thousands or millions of people to see. 

"well, atleast the internet could finally see my beauty before i die" she laughed 

she ran her fingers through kenma's hair as he grumbled under his breath. kenma was a pretty private person. he made sure not to overshare, given his current 'influencer' status. and he was planning on keeping his relationship a secret, though it seems he can't do that anymore. 

"might as well say hi" she shrugged 

so of course, she then decided to walk up to the camera looking utterly dishevelled and roughed up. 

for context, the newly wrapped bandages around her stomach was being stained already by a crimson red hue and it was only getting worse the more she moved, undoubtedly messing up her wound. 

"hi, im kenma's girlfriend and if i see you flirting with him i will make you regret it" she grinned 

"y/n!" kenma groaned from the bed "you're close to dying right now, turn the stream off" 

ignoring him, she proceeded to read the veiwers' comments, laughing at some of them while she joked around. 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: heLLO?!?! 

user: GE HAS A GIRLFRIEND NOOO

user: bruh, did i just hear that right? were you fuckin stabbed? 

user: ur kinda hot tho

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma furrowed his brows as he reluctantly walked up behind her, reading the comments with varying reactions 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: well damn, hot bloody girl comes in and suddenly im lesbian

user: kenma looks so done

kuroo.tetsu: hi y/n ;) 

user: HER NAME IS Y/N

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"jesus christ shut up, kuroo" kenma grumbled out with a sigh 

"yup! yup! im y/n, and no, i am not a criminal. i swear." she shook her head 

"i got an injury from my job, that's all." she cleared up 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: tangina nyo sana ol

user: MSKAKAKKA

user: THIS IS LOWKEY ICONIC

user: time to scratch another gamer boy off my possible bf list 😔

user: girl wtf happened to u

user: that's wack bro 🚶‍♀️

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"great question, random person from the internet!" she beamed "see, what happened was.." 

"i went on a certain mission and got severely injured. though, when i called for help nobody responded" she said 

kenma furrowed his brows at her words. "why didn't anybody respond?" he asked. she sighed and fiddled with her torn bandages, pouting her lips as she does so. 

"well, when i told them that i was finally on death's door, all they said to me was 'congratulations!' and all that.." she said "what's your take on that, hm?" she asked kenma 

"im not surprised" he said 

she grinned at his words and leaned in for a kiss. "you're so mean to me, kenma~" she whined 

she licked her lips as she held his blushing face in her hands, she nuzzled their noses as she leaned in closer to him. 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

kuroo.tetsu: oh shit 😳

user: we all know where this is heading ;) 

user: sana ol talaga punyemas 

user: AYO CHILL 

user: why we goin so fuckin fasstttt 😳

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma hastily turned the camera off as soon as y/n's lips touched his. 

"kitten, were still- hmph-" 

he was only silenced as she slipped her tongue in his mouth, smirking lightly as she ran her fingers through his hair 

"thanks babe." she said as she pulled away, giving him a soft peck on his cheek and a nod "anyways.." she hummed as she turned the camera on once again 

she looked through the chat while kenma slaps his face to get rid of his blush. 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: ur fuckin freaky 

kuroo.tetsu: oya oya 😼😼

user: MS MAAM I JUST MET U AND I LOVE U ALREADY WJABSJSJJS

user: not me blushing chiiilllleeeeee 🏃‍♀️

user: KENMA IS FLUSTERED

kuroo.tetsu: kenma, i didnt expect this from u 😼

user: im so fucking JEALOUS GRR😡

user: girl r u bleeding rn 😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

upon reading a certain comment, she subconsciously grazed her fingers against her bandaged wound. her eyes slightly widening as she felt a concerning amount of wetness seeping through

she glanced at kenma who was still calming himself down and inspected her wound 

"oh my.." she muttered, though she couldn't help but let a smile slip through 

so like any normal person would do, she simply ignored her bleeding wound and the fact that she was getting a bit lightheaded. haha <3

"anyways, let's answer some questions!" she beamed 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: what's ur full name

user: what's ur job miss girl 

user: are you possibly looking for a gf, because i am more 

than willing to take the spot 🚶‍♀️

user: how did you meet?? 

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"alright, those are all very nice questions" she chuckled. kenma, who's now calmed down, sat down beside her to look at the chat. 

"first, im l/n y/n" she mused "nice to meet ya" 

"second im a detective! mhm, im cooler than your fathers" 

"third, it depends, belladonna" she cooed as she sent the camera flirty smirk "are you perhaps willing to join me in a double suicide?" 

"oh god.." kenma grumbled. he pouted at her and shook his head in disapproval. "don't flirt with random girls" he whined 

"why not?" 

"uh- because i am your beloved boyfriend, is that not good enough of a reason??" 

"... anyways, we met at a cafe way back in high school" she said with a smile "also, i asked him to join me on a double suicide" she said 

she was smiling and nodding as if it was the most normal thing in the world, all while kenma nods along 

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: wtf are u okay 🗿

kuroo.tetsu: teenage romance 🤩

user: cute ❤️

user: im concerned ❤️

user: ur a detective?? cool

user: LMAOO I'LL GO ON A DOUBLE SEWER SLIDE 

WITH U MOMMY 😩😩😋

user: ^^ SAME 😩

user: CHOKE ME WITH THOSE BANDAGES MOMMAE 😩

user: u r still bleeding 🚶‍♀️        

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma was simply glaring at the chat as more compliments and flirtatious comments came flowing in, all of which were directed to his girlfriend. 

"this is why i didn't wanna let people know about you.." kenma grumbled 

"aww, why not?" she asked with a playful pout 

"people are flirting with you." he sighed "also, stop asking for my girlfriend's onlyfans! she doesn't even have one!" he snarled

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: LMAOO CATBOY IS ANGRY 😩

user: y/n-senpai spit on me 😡😡

user: drop the onlyfans 

user: chupapi munyanyo 😩

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"anyways, i'd hate to ruin the mood" she chimed in with a sluggish giggle "but im so wet kenma" she whined out 

a menacing smirk was etched on her lips as kenma spluttered in response, a bright red hue covering his face almost instantly as he faced her with widened eyes 

"y-y/n! why would you say that?!" he whisper shouted 

"cuz i am" she whined out as she grabbed his hand and trailed it down her abdomen 

she faced the camera and gave them a shit-eating grin as kenma mumbled out incoherent words 

"y/n we should-" he cut himself off as he felt the concerning amount of blood drip down his whole arm 

kenma's face paled as he looked up to see her smiling like a kid in a candy store, completely unbothered. 

"y/n, you idiot! why didn't you tell me!" kenma exclaimed 

"um- my girlfriend is bleeding. excessively. so uh- bye i guess" it was all he said before hastily ending his stream and turning off his computer. 

"y/n, let's get you to a hospital" he said as he reached down to carry her away. though she simply slapped his hands off and closed her eyes. 

"nope. this is my time, kenma. don't ruin it for me" she said 

"you're fucking dying!!" 

"well, would you like to join me?" 

"no"

"damn." she muttered in response 

"so...wanna fuck?" she asked sheepishly 

"for the love of god-" 

this was so messy :/

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH2

one //

Warnings | Mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, other chapters include smut 18+

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

creds to @vogueweasley​ for the moodboard<3

The warmth on your skin as George's arm lazily draped over your side, truly was a feeling you could get used to. Shamelessly it was your fourth night in a row you'd spent in his bed, a part of you longed for you to wake up in his arms every morning. George was not a heavy sleeper, easily disrupted by anyone and anything, perhaps the only way he'd ever sleep through the night was when he'd passed out drunk. Having seen just how affectionate he gets after a few too many shots, you were glad you hadn't been at the fire whisky fuelled celebrations. 

Sneaking around with George was much easier at Hogwarts, no cameras, no fame, no interruptions; just kisses and evenings together. Part of the reason you and George had such a good time together in Muggle London was that more often than not, you were just a normal couple, free to kiss and hold each other in front of everyone. He pulled you from bed early that morning to take you on a surprise trip before your training that evening. 

He'd gotten you to wrap up warm and comfy in an attempt to block out the freezing British winter winds. The ten minute walk from your home to the Embankment was full of conversations about all of the gorgeous Christmas displays, you even begged him to let you put up the Christmas tree early in the house, giving in when you looked at him with your puppy dog eyes, "I'm so whipped, aren't I?" he laughed, fingers interlocking with yours as you walked. His eyes trailed across the river before an Idea popped into his head, he nodded towards the London Eye, sat proudly across the river in all of its glory. "What do you say, Princess? Fancy heading up there for a bit?" 

Your eyes were beaming the minute the wheel started spinning. You'd managed to get a pod all to yourselves, a rare opportunity, but one you grasped with two hands, laughing as he picked you up and spun you round and around. "We should run." you spoke softly, hand running through his hair gently as you looked into his eyes. "For you, I would." he murmured, catching your lips for a long kiss, it wasn't quick or fiery, just a deep, long passionate kiss. He took his time with you because he had it, there wasn't any rush here, no chance of being caught or stopped. His kiss said a thousand words about the way he loved you.

Looking out over London's bustling city with your head in George's chest made you realise just how perfect a life with him was. When there were no cameras, no press, no fakery and especially no Cherry in sight, It was easy to feel every beat of his heart, as they synced together beating as one. You were tracing circles on the back of his hand taking in every curve of his knuckles and the beauty of every sporadic freckle. Only you could differentiate the touch of your lover so distinctly, you felt him in the way he curled his fingertips up when he cupped your jaw, or how his arm would wrap around your waist with enough strength that made you feel protected. 

"Where would we go if we ran?" You mumbled softly, your small fingers slotting through the gaps between his own. "Remote Indonesia…" he joked, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "I'd go anywhere with you, My Love, one day we won't have to run, I Just wish eighteen year old me had enough balls to say he loved you and then we wouldn't be in this mess." you shook your head, pulling his arms around you tighter as you snuggled into his hold, "Don't you dare, George, It's you and me forever, no matter what, right?" he hummed contently, pulling your hand up to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, trailing kisses up your arm to your neck between every word. "Forever, and ever, and ever, and ever…"

 //

You'd just stumbled your way into your dorm, arm still in a sling after a pretty nasty accident, a bludger to the ribcage never did a girl any good. A box of chocolates lay on your bed, as well as a note. 

Words aren't enough to tell you how sorry I am, I'll make it up to you, I promise . Get well soon, Y/N <3

-G

Locking eyes with George from across the great hall as you sat with your friends and he with his, he was looking at you with pleading, guilty glances. It really wasn't George's fault that the bludger hit you, sure he hit it, but you were on rival teams and that was the danger of the game. If the fact that he was the first at your side when you struck the floor should've made it obvious, but the fact that you were struggling to breathe and you couldn't move much really over shone the moment. 

You were sat in the room of requirement, in front of the roaring fire, staring directly at each other. You were only a month into the relationship and It wasn't awkward, just unfamiliar, he wasn't sure if he could touch you or hold you, let alone kiss the pain away. Instead he settled for holding your hand, thumb brushing over the back of it comfortably. 

"You need to stop blaming yourself George," 

"But I hurt you, and I-" 

"Shh, baby, the massive Iron ball hurt me… It’s all part of the game." You had now leant forward to crawl onto your knees, kneeling before him, you pressed your lips to his, making him forget about his bewitching thoughts, now only focused on you. 

"I'm going to protect you." George stated so matter-of-factly, that it made you recoil slightly. It was tough words from a 16 year old. He caught your expression, "I'm serious. It's going to be me and you, Forever." You were blushing, he made you feel like the only girl in the world. 

"No matter what?" You questioned. 

"Forever, no matter what."

//

After your impromptu date, George made his way to the shop and you went back to his to grab your phone, and get ready for practice. You'd left it there, the time away from the pinging and buzzing from Cherry's latest update

 or her next best opportunity. You were unsurprised by the 30 odd messages from your Publicist rambling on, but one stuck out like a sore thumb. Fred. 'shit' you thought, 'I've gone and missed something.' hesitantly opening the message to see just one message. 

>> are you gonna head by the shop today? No worries if not, I know you're busy x

<< I’ll try and pop in before practice, if not… coffee tomorrow? :)

You contemplated how your reply sounded while you stripped from your clothes to pull on your branded activewear, a picture caught your eye, the Gryffindor quidditch team, captained by Oliver Wood in Harry’s first year. They all looked so young and eager to get out onto the field. A devilish idea crept into your mind and you found yourself rooting through George’s drawers, finding exactly what you had set out for. You pulled on the old Gryffindor quidditch sweater, observing yourself in the mirror, It was odd to see yourself in the deep maroon and orange after years of donning the silver and green. You picked up your phone, sending George a quick text. 

<< Meet me down the alley by B&B… I need to show you something. I’ll be 5 x

>> I won’t ask ;) x

You wrapped your coat around your shoulders, slinging your duffel over your arm before grabbing your wand, apperating just up Knockturn Alley. you checked over your shoulder, hoping not to be caught, you passed Bourgin and Burkes, spotting the boy with fiery red hair standing down the secluded alley. 

“What did you need to show me then, trouble?” he joked leaning against the wall, steam billowing from his lips from the bitter cold. You smirked, unzipping your coat to show him the knitted sweater. “Is that-” you cut him off with a nod, fingertips reaching to zip your jacket back up, but his strong hands catch your wrists, pinning you against the wall. “Take it off or I’ll rip it off.” he was half joking, smirking down at you as you rolled your eyes. He caught your lips in a hurried kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to cup the side of your face. 

Even with your eyes closed you noticed the bright flash, a flash you knew all too well. You’d been caught. Thinking quickly on your toes, you put on your signature giggle, pushing George’s chest away while whispering a soft ‘play along’, as your eyes caught his, you bat your eyelashes. “Freddie, stop it will you?” he tried his hardest not to laugh, as he backed up holding his hands up in defeat. “I can’t hold my girl from her practice any longer.” the small group of paparazzi were begging for another kiss, or at least more interaction, you dragged George away from the scene, “show’s over I’m afraid folks!” the cameras continued to rapidly flash as you  quickly apperated him away from the scene to his office. 

“That’s gonna be the front page tomorrow,” you sighed as you slumped into his desk chair, throwing your bag to the floor, “Cheryl is going to murder me in broad daylight,” He was gently rubbing your shoulder, before he leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll fix it, baby.” he reassured you, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Forever.” the word that quickly became your ‘I love you’. You stood and pulled off the jumper, as well as your jacket, handing him back what was his. “Make sure to take it home will you? We can have some fun later with it,” you smirked, picking up your bag and sending him a wink before apperating to practice. 

Cherry’s deep red car was outside of the stadium, you dreaded the conversation that was about to happen, contemplating just bolting out of there. ‘Better to face her head on than piss her off’ you thought, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down before opening up the door and climbing into the passenger seat with a smile. “You should’ve said you were swinging by and I would’ve showered, I feel bad stinking up your car!” you joked, trying your best to sound surprised by her visit as you pulled your duffel onto your lap. 

“Good news, You’ll be the front cover of the prophet tomorrow.” you gasped, a smile on your lips, “I am?” she laughed, tapping away on her phone, pulling up a picture, “Yeah it’s you and Fred… locking lips. Care to explain what happened to the ‘no kissing’ rule” You took the phone thrust into your face by your publicist, looking at the picture snapped just a few hours prior. You had to admit George did look pretty sexy in the position he was caught in, you looked over at her with pleading eyes. “I’d love to congratulate you, but that’s not Fred you’re kissing, is it?”

You cocked your eyebrow at her, “Who else would it be? Of course it’s Freddi- wait you don’t think that’s George do you?” you laughed, pressing your lips together, to stop the full laugh erupting. “Don’t let Fred hear you say that, he gets funny about people mistaking him for George, you know.” she looked back at you blankly, clearly unappreciative of your laughter. “Come on Cherry, what reason would I have to be kissing George?” you tried to think of a reason around the ‘no kissing rule’ “The only reason I don’t like kissing Fred at events is because I don’t want it to seem fake, I’m obviously not adverse to kissing him, I just like to do it in private, He is an attractive man after all.”  Cheryl was now squinting at you, she sighed however, pulling her phone back out of your hands. 

“You’re right, why would It be George?” she adds, pulling the car out of it’s parking space, “Here, I’ll drop you home, you need a shower desperately.” you laughed pulling out your phone, seeing a text from both of the twins. 

>> Let me know when you’re on your way home, I’ll stick the shower on for us ;) x

>> Coffee tomorrow it is! :) 

When you jump out of the car, Cherry rolls down her window, to speak to you. “I want a nice kiss like that for the product launch.” you go to protest but she cuts you off. “Make it happen.” and with that she was away in the wind.

Today was a close call, almost too close for comfort. You and George needed to be more careful, and harder yet, you had to keep that copy of the Daily Prophet out of Fred’s eyeshot. 

// TO BE CONTINUED // Chapter Three >>>>>

taglist //  @starlightweasley​ @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @pigwidgexn​@starkidpotty​ @mrmoonyy​ @mackaywhore​ @softlyqoos​ @colorfulprofessornickelangel​ @fandomscombine​ @satellitespidey​ @txtdreamss​ @aaannabbanana​ @kaylahmarie​

[berrydoodleoo]

spring is in the world

Title from ‘since feeling is first’. Chosen with Luna in mind, who in this AU has defied her fate and is no longer confined to parentheses. Read more about the art here, or have a short fic instead:

In hindsight, she shouldn’t have assumed things were going as well as they seemed. She had no great experience in taking lovers, after all, having devoted most of her thirty-odd years to fighting the Scourge in one form or another. She had lost so much time, first to her injuries after Altissa and the coma that had swallowed her for years, and then to the terrible fear and lethargy that gripped her once Ardyn was dead and her purpose in life (seemingly) fulfilled.

Not to mention that Noctis and Prompto were Lucian, whose upper-classes still ascribed to all sorts of prescriptive rules about romance and marriage. She should have been more vigilant -- Prompto in particular still regarded Noct and the sunlit world with nervousness bordering on dread, as if they might be ripped away from him at any moment. So what if she had danced with Noctis and Prompto at the ball held for the New Dawn’s first anniversary last week? So what if she had kissed Noctis outside her room, when he very courteously escorted her to her quarters? So what if Prompto had given her a gift of watercolor paints and cold-pressed paper at breakfast, asking with a flirty smirk if she had a model for her newest painting?

And most of all -- so what if they had made plans to celebrate Noctis’ birthday with a trip outside the city, where they would sleep (hopefully together) beneath the stars (her first test of her new resolve to walk in the dark without fear). So what? They hadn’t said anything out loud, hadn’t made any promises. She shouldn’t have assumed. She should never assume. It was such a terrible risk, forgetting to be afraid. She should have known….

It’s when she lays her hand over his, resting on Noctis’ chest, that she realizes they’ve been having two separate conversations. “He’s here to stay, Prompto,” she says, pressing gently. “I promise.”

“I know, I know.” Prompto clears his throat, forces a rough little laugh. “It’s not that.” He sniffs.

It gives her an ugly jolt to see him so distressed. They’d only been watching Noct sleep, praising his handsome features and planning how best to tease him when he awoke. Umbra is snoring cutely at Noctis’ side and Pryna is probably still in the field, chasing butterflies. Everything had seemed perfect.

Prompto glances skittishly at her frown and then begins to babble. “I just, uh -- got used to checking, you know? Making sure he hadn’t stopped breathing or started bleeding inside or something. It’ll, uh.” He shakes his head, tries to pull his hand away. “It’ll be weird not being able to check, you know, but I won’t -- I mean, I know you two -- I won’t get in the way, I won’t make things difficult, I promise--”

“Prompto,” Luna interrupts gently, struggling to follow. “I don’t understand what you’re--”

Prompto rakes his free hand over his eyes, smearing the hint of tears around. “You guys are gonna be great, you know?” He smiles bravely, props his head on his fist like they’re still chatting idly and he isn’t weeping openly. “You’ve waited for each other for so long. I guess destiny can be kind after all.” He tries to smile.

But he can’t keep the bleakness out of his eyes, and it’s clear that Prompto doesn’t believe any of this kindness has been reserved for him. “Prompto,” Luna bursts out, fumbling, confused, “are you -- breaking up with Noctis? Through me?”

Prompto recoils, or tries to; she still won’t let him get away. “O-of course not,” he stammers, “we weren’t -- I mean -- not really, we haven’t, not since -- he wouldn’t lie to you like that--”

Luna untangles this with some effort. “Do you mean you two aren’t together?” Confused, she reviews their interactions from the past few days, and then from the last time she saw them, after the final battle. “You haven’t been -- Prompto Argentum, you two haven’t been refraining because of me, have you?”

Prompto gapes at her. She gapes back.

“You have!” Astonished, Luna leans back to peer at the sky. “Why in the -- Prompto. Dear, dearest Prompto.” She checks on Noctis, in case their spirited conversation has woken him, but he sleeps on obliviously. She’ll have words with him later.

Prompto tries to sit up, retreat again, and this time Luna tugs him quite firmly back into place. “Don’t you dare,” she orders, and he freezes. “Prompto, you and Noctis love each other. You’ve been part of each other’s lives for so long, have supported and believed in one another through the worst of--” She finds she can’t find the words to continue, and tries again. “I would never, will never, seek to separate the two of you.”

Prompto’s lower lip is trembling. Luna starts to shift forward, cup his cheek, and then realizes such a gesture might be unwelcome. Dear gods, she has misread this. Such a fool she is. She’d thought--

“Quite the opposite,” she finally continues, quietly, despite the cold terror creeping through her veins. “So long as the two of you have one another, I may have peace in my heart, for I know that one good, true thing prevails.”

She blinks back a sudden flood of tears. Perhaps they don’t want her. Perhaps she doesn’t have a place with them after all. She wants her room, suddenly, her safe, prison-like room, where nothing joyful grows but nothing can hurt her, either.

“But you guys have been -- oh.” Prompto blinks rapidly, and then starts to redden. “Oh. Is this a, uh, Tenebrean thing? Like the triad thing? Oh man, is this what Iggy was trying to -- oh, man.”

Luna can’t help it; she bursts into damp, semi-hysterical giggles, despite the icy shake in her guts. Prompto smiles up at her blurrily, and then starts to laugh as well.

“Man,” he says again, suddenly beaming, eyes still tear-reddened. “He is gonna give me so much crap about this. I am literally never gonna live it down. Wow.” He takes a deep breath and squeezes her hand tenderly, overwhelmed. “Is this really -- you might have to -- I am really oblivious sometimes, but uh, I guess you know that now.” He laughs again, edged, at himself.

Luna starts to nod, changes to shaking her head, and then feels hot, wet tears dripping down her face. She’ll feel foolish later. Prompto sits up, and this time she lets him, because he’s moving to lean closer, cup her face and wipe her tears away.

“Luna,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I misunderstood.” She presses his rough, large hands to her cheeks and feels herself crumple a little more. “No,” he continues. “No, please don’t cry. I can’t -- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Luna takes a deep breath. She isn’t been rejected. You aren’t being rejected, she reminds herself. “No, no,” she says wetly, “I shouldn’t have assumed--”

She stops herself. She’s making an effort to reprimand herself less these days. She is trying so hard to be better. And in a fight for blame, she suspects she and Prompto could go round and round until the sun went down and never came up again, but that isn’t what she wants. For either of them.

Luna takes a deep breath. She refuses to start their relationship in a spiral of apologies and self-blame. She doesn’t want that anymore. She wants to open the door to a rolling world of yellow suns and indigo skies and, eventually, gentle nights that fill her with wonder and comfort instead of fear. She wants to let go of the fear and her desperate need for control -- she wants to be free, a part of the world for the first time in her life.

So instead of berating herself, she grips his hands in hers and lets their combined grip rest against their (still sleeping, seriously, Noct?) king’s chest. Umbra is watching them with interest, she notes. And then she takes another breath.

“Prompto,” she says, falling back on an old, formal proposal from a romantic show she used to watch, as a teenager confined within Fenestala Manor. “Will you grant me the honor of your affection and presence, and keep a place for me in your heart?”

Prompto’s lovely eyes widen, full of hope and delight. Pure sunlight. He’s grinning and she’s breathless. All further words fly from her mind.

His fingers squeeze hers as he leans forward for a kiss, and then another, tentative turning into playful, his smile slotting sweetly against hers again and again. Blindly, her hands work themselves free to touch his cheeks, his throat, the rasp of his short beard. He retreats for a quick breath, tracing her lips with hot, hooded eyes, and then devours her mouth in a kiss that raises her onto her knees, toes curled and body tingling. Oh, oh, oh--

“Hey,” Noctis grumbles, exactly like a grumpy cat awoken from a nap. “Uh, did I miss something? I thought we were waiting till my birthday.”

Prompto gasps, wrenching away. “That’s what that’s all about?” he demands shrilly, and Luna bursts into giggles. “The camping trip? Oh my gods, Gladio’s gonna kill me--”

Noctis pushes himself up his elbows, squinting and scowling with the sun in his eyes. “What? You seriously didn’t know?” He sits up, absently guiding Luna to sit at his side in a way that makes her heart warm. “Thought you were kidding about that.”

“--never gonna hear the end of this, crap--”

Noctis looks to Luna, about to ask something -- probably ‘what on Eos is happening right now, I was only asleep for thirty minutes’ -- but then his expression changes and he makes a wise choice of priorities. “Uh, Luna? Pryna’s after the cheese again.”

Luna yelps and Pryna yips, betrayed, and the dog knocks the picnic basket over in her haste to escape her mistress, wedge of cheese clamped firmly in her jaws. Prompto dives to catch her -- “I’ve got her!” -- but he doesn’t. Noct fails to catch him and he lands on their legs, trapping them. Umbra runs in circles and barks for the sheer, chaotic joy of it. Pryna devours her stolen prize. And in the sunlit field, with her loves bickering and playing at her side, Lunafreya laughs until she cries for the first time in her life.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #31 - Ammo and the Anti-Glowup

So, the Lost Light disappeared, stranding all the crew in space in their little escape pods. 200-some robots just lost their homes and worldly possessions. That’s absolutely horrible. What a devastating thing to happen.

Anyway, here’s Drift with a flashback sequence.

No hips, fingers all the exact same length, hockey pucks embedded in his forearms- Rojo, this is a crime you’ve committed. When will the long arm of the law stop your sinful, pancake-shaped hands?

About two years prior to current events, Drift, Riptide, and Pipes- yes, Pipes!- were wandering around trying to find a ship for the space yacht trip. The gang’s here to see who owns the big honkin’ ship outside. Problem is, Drift is unintentionally terrifying because he has a great deal of swords.

Now, you may say to yourself “isn’t it a bit odd that the species that has members who literally turn into guns would be nervous around a guy with swords?” This is a valid critique, until you remember that at least some of the folks who turn into guns were born that way, and Drift was very much NOT born bladed the fuck out. There’s an entire miniseries devoted to explaining this, it’s called Drift. The swords are a choice, one that he makes every day.

Drift is willing to pay an honestly absurd amount of money for the ship, if he can just find the dude with the paperwork- don’t ask where he got the money. Pipes isn’t being terribly helpful in finding them, so Riptide decides that now is the time to start practicing being proactive and pulls a Coyote Ugly.

No, no, he doesn’t.

He does climb up on a table and start yelling for the ship’s owners to reveal themselves, though. Which they do.

Now it’s time for the world-building portion of our comic issue. Let’s learn about chirolinguistics.

Drift, staying true to his Mary Sue nature, uses his near-perfect Hand skills to strike up a deal with the owners of the ship. This would be impressive, if it didn’t just look like the most convoluted hand-holding session in the friggin’ universe.

Still, Drift is rich enough to make Jeff Bezos weep with envy, so the arrangements are made and the lads go on their way, talking some mad shit about the original name of the ship as they do.

So it is revealed to us that the Lost Light is named after a festival for honoring the dead and disappeared, which makes the fact that Rewind and Chromedome were there all the more sad.

Back in the present, Megatron tells Riptide to shut up so they can figure out what the hell they’re going to do about this whole “our home and also ride has ceased to exist” situation. He’s putting an awful lot of distance between himself and the rest of the Autobots as he does it, something that isn’t lost on the more bitter people of the crowd.

But why were we even talking about the Lost Light in the first place? Not to reminisce, believe it or not. See, it’s time for Nautica to get a little panel time, and she’s going to use it to be a massive fucking nerd and explain how the quantum engines work. As she does, Ratchet notes that his hands feel funny. Must be the weight of his hand-stealing sins manifesting itself in his joints.

Nautica explains that the engines run off of improbability- it is highly unlikely, but not impossible, that the ship can reach light speed, and riding the fine line between what can happen and what can’t, results in the creation of power for the engines. If this sounds familiar, it’s because Brainstorm gave us a watered down version of this explanation back in issue #2. If it sounds familiar for a different reason, it’s because this is how the Heart of Gold runs in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Again, I’m not sure why it is that the British love this concept so much, but there you are.

Oh, it appears someone has a question. Let’s see what they want to know about, shall we?

…Rojo, what the fuck is this.

Our muppety friend here isn’t too keen on how much of a smarmy asshole Nightbeat is being right now, though I’d assume it actually has something to do with the fact that Nightbeat got smacked around with the pretty-boy stick while Getaway very much did not. While the two bicker- there’s a lot of bickering in Season Two- Nautica presents a theory on what happened to the ship; it went too far in the direction of “can’t” and made itself cease to be.

Megatron gives not a shit about quantum improbability, though. He only cares about how they’re going to get out of this mess. Which, y’know. Valid.

Blaster picks up a radio from Rodimus, who tells the gang that they’re to meet up on a nearby planet to regroup and figure out their next move. The call drops before he can get more than a couple Megatron-directed insults in, however. Megatron, in response, tries to be the bigger person, and almost immediately fails. We do get a headcount though, which is good, logistically speaking. This information is communicated to us by way of a splash page full of character head shots. We’ve got 20 ‘bots on board this ship.

Yep. 20. No more, no less.

As our friends approach the planet, we’re informed that it’s actually a Lectureworld- a planet devoted to the study of a single field. Except it’s actually a Smartplanet now, and it’s been privatized by the Galactic Council, so you’ve got to pay to go there. Cyclonus thinks that that’s bullshit, and I can’t help but agree. Crosscut tries to network with they guy about his play, probably because word got around that Cyclonus is rich as hell, when the lights cut out. When they come back on, Crosscut is nowhere to be found.

It’s time for a Whodunnit.

Tailgate immediately pegs Megatron as the culprit in this disappearance, and breaks out a gun over the matter. Megatron thinks that this is absolutely adorable, which only serves to further infuriate our marshmallow friend. I guess he’s still mad about the whole “I was a Decepticon for five minutes and got brainwashed over it” thing, and wants someone to pin the anger on who’s socially acceptable to hate.

Cyclonus and Ratchet both think that Tailgate’s not going about this the right way, but the guy is simply too het up to listen to them. Tailgate suggests that they lock Megatron in the engine room for the time being and-

OKAY WHO LET HIM HAVE THAT

Riptide breaks out his gun, and soon we’ve got a standoff going between the three of them. Cyclonus tries to deescalate, which makes Gears and Huffer break out their guns. Then Hound breaks out his gun, though he seems to be doing his own thing, by pointing it in Nautica’s direction.

Broski, I think that might be animal cruelty.

Megatron manages to shoot Ravage “unconscious” and catches him by the friggin’ throat, stating that he has zero idea how this guy got here. With the heat off the two of them for a moment, Megatron communicates to Ravage to play ‘possum for the time being. Ravage responds, and I wonder exactly how he’s doing that, considering I don’t think he has enough fingers to effectively utilize Hand as a language. Or fingers at all, really.

While this is going on, Cyclonus snatches the gun out of Tailgate’s hand, admonishing him for being reckless about picking his fights. Generally speaking, you don’t want to try to go toe-to-toe with a guy who’s responsible for the deaths of literal billions. Getaway swoops in to comfort Tailgate, calling him gutsy. I wonder if this will become a trend.

Swerve says a thing, as he is wont to do, and it’s made known that multiple folks have disappeared during this incredibly brief standoff.

Wow, Chromedome just fucked off, huh? He wasn’t even in that sequence, just left.

Everyone’s positively baffled by the current happenings. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to who’s being taken. I guess we’ve got a mystery on our hands.

And who better to solve a mystery than a detective?

Nightbeat wrangles all the leftover folks into a corner of the room, so they can figure out what the common denominator is with all the disappearees. He starts with the easy stuff.

And by “easy”, I mean the super-special racism Tyrest subscribed to.

If you’ve read Eugenesis, you know that Nightbeat was also part of the first wave of cold-constructed bodies there. However, the general populace wasn’t nearly as chill about it as they were in IDW. Also, Wheeljack was his dad. No word on if that particular tidbit made it into IDW lore.

It’s at this point that we learn about M.T.O.s- made to order soldiers. They were cold-constructed ‘bots created en masse during the war in order to keep up with the demands for troops. Pretty fucked up, if you think about it, being born to die like that.

Now where have we heard that name before…

Chromedome, can your love life not be part of the plot for five minutes, my guy?

Nautica makes the honestly horrific claim that a lot of folks owe their existence to Megatron being a warmongering fuck, and even Megatron himself seems rather uncomfortable with the idea. Some thoughts we keep to ourselves, Nautica, even if they might be technically true. And even if Ammo wants to tack on his two cents on the matter.

What did they DO to you, Ammo? You’re supposed to be hot! Where are my three-paragraphs of description as Hound stares slack jawed the entire time? I miss Polyhex Wars.

Anyway, it’s Megatron’s turn to get poked with the questioning stick, and he’s not having it. He claims that by revealing his mode of creation, he’s risking a repeat of Functionist ideology. This would be valid, if people weren’t literally disappearing without any sort of explanation as to why. As it is, he’s being a stubborn asshole, but I guess he didn’t get his reputation by being a decent person who knew when to back down, now did he?

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers he knows all the info Nightbeat’s looking for, and the conversation on Megatron’s birth is shelved for another day. I’m sure it won’t be a major plot point later, not in the slightest.

As it turns out, Nightbeat’s theory doesn’t hold water, and folks are still popping out of existence. We get another splash page, this time with everyone’s mode of creation listed under their names, and we move on to other theories about what the fuck is going on. While Nightbeat has a minor crisis over what the answer could possibly be, the MTOs in the group reminisce on the Ten-Step Program, a series of tests they were put through to make sure they worked well enough to get handed a gun and shoved out the door. Riptide wasn’t a fan.

Riptide has more wood panelling than a 70’s-style ranch house, and I think that’s very brave of him.

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers it’s been quite a bit since he last shat on religion, and takes the time to do so while informing the reader about Information Creep. This is a concept we’ve seen mentioned previously, during Chromedome’s runaround in Overlord’s brain, but it’s here where we get the juicy implications.

Because memories can become corrupted in the brain due to extreme age, what ought to be objective fact has to be reinterpreted due to missing pieces. This is why nobody knows what the Knights of Cybertron got up to, or if they’re even actually real at all.

The lights go out again, and when they cut back on, Cyclonus is missing, leaving only his sword behind. Tailgate is extremely distraught by this, but Nightbeat gives not a fuck about Tailgate’s impending breakdown. He only cares about the truth!

And then a giant eyeball shows up.

It’s Ultra Magnus, coming to us live from his shuttle, via holomatter avatar! He shrinks down to a far more reasonable size, in a panel reminiscent of the first time IDW readers saw Megatron.

Don’t get me wrong, this is a neat parallel, I’m just… not terribly sure why it’s happening. One could say it reflects a reversal in power dynamics, but that theory gets tossed out the window when you remember that this isn’t actually Verity. I suppose it’s just a cool little thing.

Because the comms aren’t working, Ultra Magnus has been forced to use this avatar to communicate with the folks in the Rod Pod. Megatron asks just what the hell is going on, but unfortunately Magnus isn’t sure either. Then his shuttle disappears, and it’s bye-bye grunge girl Magnus.

It’s at this point that Nightbeat decides it’s time to stop pussyfooting around and get serious. He tells Ratchet to throw HIPPA directly in the garbage and write down everything he knows about the Autobots who crewed the Lost Light. And he does mean everything, as we get the splash page again, this time with lots of neat info on our friends, including spark type.

Spark types will become plot-relevant in the storyline after this, but for now let’s focus on some weird gender essentialism that got slapped into the first print of this issue.

As we know very well by this point, Transformers as a franchise has a tumultuous relationship with the idea of women existing. You would think that the awkward introduction of other genders we got in “Dark Cybertron” would have been the end of things being weird in IDW. However, you would be wrong.

In an effort to explain why genders exist, Roberts had the idea to make it spark-based. Nautica, in the solo print of this issue, has an estriol-positive spark. Estriol is a type of estrogen, which is the hormone that develops and maintains feminine secondary sex characteristics, when present in certain levels, in conjunction with other hormones. Biology

This “spark = gender” idea is, generally speaking, not a great idea to be presenting us with, especially when the writer is a cishet male, because it implies biological essentialism- the idea that a personality trait/quality of a person is innate and predetermined by their biology, as opposed to social, cultural, or individual experiences. Because this story doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s irresponsible to reduce the experience of being a woman to a single, physical, unchangable asset, especially when all other assets of the same class have zero effect on one’s gender identity. You don’t exactly see many nonbinary robots running around, now do you? And there are definitely more than two spark types, despite the Transformers as a species being... very binary.

It also makes female Transformers into an “other”, which is a problem that has existed from the very start of the franchise, in some form or fashion, and really doesn’t need to be perpetrated anymore than it already is.

The estriol spark type was removed in the trade edition, and Roberts has expressed regrets over its inclusion, having realized that it was potentially offensive.

Getting back to the story, Swerve, Tailgate, and Ratchet have disappeared, though Ratchet seems to have left his hands behind. His stolen, Pharma-original hands.

That’s still fucked up to me. I don’t think it’ll ever not be fucked up.

Riptide reveals the reason that he wasn’t in Season One of MTMTE was because when he went back to grab a receipt for the ship two years prior, he’d discovered that the original owners were worshipers of Mortilus, Cybertronian god of death, and knew about the nasty little problem that was the sparkeater from the first storyline. When Riptide went to confront them about it, they beat him up so bad he was unconscious for two solid days.

Which is a long-ass time to be unconscious. That might have been a coma, Riptide. Jesus, I hope someone got him to a hospital after this beatdown happened, or at least scraped him off the floor.

With this last piece of the puzzle, we finally have the common denominator in this big ol’ mystery. Everyone who disappeared was on the Lost Light when it took off from Cybertron in issue #1, and everyone left behind- Skids, Getaway, Nightbeat, Nautica, Megatron, and Ravage- didn’t join until afterwords.

Of course, having the answer doesn’t do us much good when everyone is still missing, and Megatron seems to agree with me, because he’s about to throw hands, when Nautica lets them know that they’ve arrived at the rendezvous. Problem is, so has something else.

...

I’m sure it’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh IWA ROUTE

a/n: uwuwuwuwuwu my mans iwa chan :’)

IM A SIMP FOR IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETE TRAINER

uwu filo!iwa in this :)

and also, listen to lauv while reading this since i wrote this and that song was playing on repeat O_O and also this song

this is my self-request uwu

HES SUCH A POUTY BABIE BLS LOVE ON HIM

onwards we goooo

hihihihihihi yey im so excited for this yall dont even know

ANYWAYS

so,,,,

when iwa first saw you, he thought you were just a cute little thing

your shorter height, your puffy cheeks, and the wide eyes you had whenever you saw someone, or him, do a really cool spiking move

he initially thought of you as a cute little sister hes never had

ehehe that finna change

then the,,,, bullying thing happened

if youd like to read this part, its right here

when he saw you bloodied, all battered,

dear lordie he was finna break some ankles

ONG I WAS JUST TALKING ABOUT SANGWOO YET HERE I AM

like that image of you will probably stay in his memory until he dies of the ripe age of 200

ngl it kinda traumatized him a little bit of how tired and pained you look with the tears rolling down your face and the blood that was escaping your body through your wounds

god you didnt deserve any of that

you deserved the world and the universe yet some people dared to take away your worth

ooo he was so mad

miyo was,,,, hurt??

can i say that??

i dont wanna,,,, explain bara arms iwa hurting a girl so youre gonna have to imagine that for yourselves

but at the end when they said slap, he didnt just ✨S L A P ✨ her

he ✨ B R O K E   S O M E   A N K L E S ✨

oiks is actually scared of him after that

like oiks had to peel him off of her and towards the infirmary where you and the team were

‘IWAIZUMI HAJIME, STOP!’

oof the first and last time oikawa tooru ever said that full name

he was breathing heavy and he was so ✨ A N G R Y ✨ with what she did to you yet he hears your soft scoldings, telling him off for hurting a girl

he wanted to see you

like right now

iwa tore himself from oikawa’s grasp and ✨ N Y O O M E D ✨ himself to the nurse’s office

there, you sat on the bed with the others scattered either on other beds or on the floor 

you smiled at the sight of him and he walked towards you and engulfed you in his arms

‘youre okay now. im here’

he whispered and you buried your face into his chest, breathing in his unique scent

lavender mixed with peppermint

he refused to leave your side so he ✨ M A D E ✨ some room on the bed beside you to sit and he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close

you held his hand while oikawa talked to you and as you shamefully bowed your head

but you were forgiven and everything was all good until the third years really got into plan

makki and mattsun promised to handle it all as they had family in the justice field while oikawa would go and get the girl suspended

‘but what about me?! i want-’

‘iwaizumi, you literally hit her. it’d be best if you’re not involved right now as you were the only one who physically touched her in a harmful manner like that’

ong when it come to y/n, the meme team is replaced by the assassin team

he tried to fight but in the end, 3 overpowered 1 and he was forced to sit back and opted to comfort you instead

he made sure you were safe to walk home but that day, you were the one who asked him to spend time with him

just you two

like after seeing him seethingly enter back into the room, you reached out and held his hand in yours, eyes trained on your fingers fiddling with his

‘iwa-san,,,, you said you downloaded the new godzilla movie?’

you whispered but he could still hear you and his heart swelled at your meek voice

‘yea, i did. and my mom bought those chips you like’

your eyes flitted up to meet his eyes and a soft smile spread on your lips and there was this thumping in his heart

maybe that was the first time that iwaizumi hajime felt differently towards you

a smile that seemed to be differently perceived than the rest

and it wasnt for the whole team

it was for him

and him alone

the trek to his house was quiet but you would hum nursery rhymes or the songs you heard earlier in the radio while skipping every few steps and tightly holding on to his hand

iwaizumi’s olive eyes watched you still radiate energy despite being so hurt for a long time

they then trailed to your linked hands and he unintentionally squeezed it, only figuring out he did it when you looked up to him and squeezed it back with a smile

he wanted to do something to make you forget of what happened

he didnt want you to think about the cruelty and pain so he was going to make sure you would continue smiling 

thankfully, his parents werent home so he wouldnt have to explain why he has a bandage-covered girl with him 

iwa led you upstairs to where his room was and your eyes widened when you saw what was inside

tiny action figurines of animes like bakugo from boku no hero academia or a tiny pikachu on his desk

there was a large country flag that you didnt recognize and a few godzilla posters and volleyball players decorating beside it

however, besides those normal things you wouldve expected,

there were many polaroids

polaroid pictures that were everywhere with no specific layout pattern and just placed anywhere that had room

iwa watched as you dazedly walked forward and entered the room to move towards the wall by his desk that had the most pictures against it

from pictures of him and oikawa to the third years to him and his parents or just the sunrise and human silhouettes

your fingers reached forward and traced the picture of him and the third years when they were still first years and took a spontaneous trip to the beach

‘mattsun stole his dad’s car and drove us to the beach without a license’

iwaizumi’s voice answered your questions and you looked back, shimmering eyes

this room,,, wasnt just a normal, teenage boy’s room

this was a room that represented iwaizumi hajime

from his natural character description like his love for volleyball evident in the volleyball player posters to the underneath description that was hidden like his love for godzilla and his love of taking pictures of the people he cares about the most

it was all that made up iwaizumi hajime

your feet took you to stand in front of him, still standing at the doorway, and you stood on your toes to try and be eye-level with him

‘youre really cool, iwa-san’

you whispered and his ears turned red, not from the compliment, but by the close distance between you two

iwa clearedhis throat and ruffled your hair roughly, pushing you down slightly back to the balls of your feet

‘i already knew that, brat. now go and sit over there and be comfortable or whatever while i go get the food’

he hurriedly turned to hide his growing red face but you stopped him

‘iwa-san,,, ano,,, can,, i borrow a hoodie?’

you mumbled, nervously thinking he might refuse 

but he grunted a response, not bothering to turn around

‘take your pick’

you smiled and thanked him before bounding over to the wardrobe that was pushed against the wall across his bed that was against the corner by his window

inside had so many hoodies and there were also shirts that were hung up on the other half

they were all graphic tees that either had american bands or anime or game references

opting for a mint green hoodie that says ‘SONIC NYOOM’, you had an undershirt under your button up and as you slipped the bloodied long sleeve off, he swung the door open, eyes focused on the tray of coke filled glasses

then he looked up and almost dropped it at the sight of you,,, like that

‘OH MY GOD SORRY’

he shrieked and carefully but hurriedly backtracked back to the hallway

ofc you were shocked too but you quickly put the hoodie on and went to get him

iwaizumi’s heart was hammering in his chest and he was VERY red with embarrassment 

how could he see you like that?!

a girl who wasnt his shouldnt be seen like that by his eyes!

a touch on his arm reminded him of his position and he was still holding the tray but it was clear from the liquid in the cups that he was shaking slightly

‘iwa-san, its okay. i still had a shirt on so dont misunderstand’

you reasoned and he nodded, still not looking at you

the beginning of the movie was quite awkward as you both were sitting next to each other on the floor, backs against his mattress while the laptop played godzilla in front of yall

but it seems it was just him who was feeling this way bc you were intrigued at this weird monster that was squshing building under its foot and you continued munching on the food

iwa stood up and coughed

‘im going to take a shower’

you paused it and stared up at him, a chip halfway in your mouth

‘oh? you want me to wait for you?’

he agressively shook his head

‘no! its okay i watched it already. just,,,, watch it’

at the end, his words came out jumbled in his hurry to go and calm his heart down

you shrugged and unpaused the movie to continue watching

iwa spent his time in the shower, thinking and trying to think of stupid thoughts like the time oikawa almost choked on a peanut when they were in middle school to distract him of thoughts of how adorable you were

ONG HE WAS JUST SHOWERING AND INNOCENTLY DOING SHOWER THINGS

‘no, i said she was like a sister to me. and a sister she’ll remain’

okay ngl even though theyre not related, im worried yall would be like ‘iNcESt’ but bls a lot of people have tried to sibling-zoned people yet realized they liked them in THAT way

as he wrapped himself with a towel, he then realized

oh my god he didnt bring clothes

LMAO NOOOO IWAAAAA

iwa frantically looked around and he saw his mother’s sakura themed robe and he paused, arguing silently with him if he should wear it

well, it was either that or he went back into the room and showed you,,,,,, this

sucking in a sharp breath, he kept the towel around his waist and slipped his arms through the tight arm holes and he awkwardly tried to keep it tied since he was so much bigger than his tiny mom

what is happening

you saw the door opening and excitedly turned to tell him about this one scene when your voice died down in your throat at the sight of him 

here was iwaizumi hajime, ultra muscle buff man who gets abs with a simple glance of the gym, wearing an all too-tight pink, cherry blossom print robe that was so tight the tie around it was shaking to keep it together

‘dont’

he whispered and that snapped your remaining surprise to double over in laughter

‘its so cute! iwa-san, youre so cute!’

you shrieked and he growled and hurriedly went to to grab grey sweatpants and a shirt before running straight back to the bathroom

when he finally came back out, his face was still red and he was pouting as he sat next to you back to his seat

he could feel you staring at him while looking constipated as you held your laugh in and the second your eyes met, your giggles fell out

iwa rolled his eyes

‘yes yes let it out’

‘hehe, iwa-san, i didnt know you had that style’

‘it isnt! i didnt want to walk in here practically naked with you in the room!’

he growled and you nodded, still not quite believing it

‘hai hai. just say you like pink, i wont tell’

you waved and iwa felt offended

‘what do you mean ‘hai hai’?! its really not!’

your lips pursed to keep more giggles in and iwa growled again before lunging to grab your sides and tickling you 

of course being careful to not touch your wounds

you shrieked at the ticklish feeling and iwa laughed as you made weak attempts to push him off

‘huh? what was that? whatd you say? cant talk anymore, can ya?’

he teased

‘NO!!!! IWA-SAAAAN!!!!!’

you shouted in between your laughter and he finally let up when you squealed out your apologies and promised to never say it again

you breathed air into your lungs and sat back up to recollect yourselves 

iwa saw the strands that escaped your bun and they were scattered everywhere looking messy with your flushed cheeks and teary eyes

oh my god you were beautiful

he was so happy that you still kept that smile despite what happened and he was going to fight to keep it there

forever

it was about nearly the end when you finally realized how different iwaizumi’s hair looked

‘oi, iwa-san, your hair is not naturally spiky?’

he continued eating the chips while still watching the movie

‘what would you expect? even shittykawa’s hair is like this. did ya know that he wakes up extra early to curl it into that shitty mess?’

your jaw dropped

‘EEEHHHH???!!!!!!!’

later, you asked him how he does his hair for school and he blindly reached for the gel that was resting on his desk before tossing it to you

‘here’

you looked at it and flickered over to his hair and then you had the greatest realization

‘GODZILLA-SAMA!’

you pointed and he stopped eating, turning to give you a confused look

‘ha?’

you shrieked in an another round of laughter

‘IWA-SAN LIKES GODZILLA-SAMA SO MUCH HE DOES HIS HAIR AFTER HIM!!!!’

you doubled over to the floor, clutching your stomach and iwaizumi’s flustered expression made you laugh harder

he knew you were smart but,,, not this smart

you figured out his secret

the secret he’s hidden since he was practically a toddler

even his best friend, the guy hes known since he was born, never made the connection

yet here you are, figuring it out not even a year of knowing him

was this part of the many reasons he,, felt his heart beat for you?

oikawa was relieved that you had the bright twinkle in your eyes the next time he saw you and you were actively talking to iwaizumi in that early morning practice

‘oh? y/n-chan, is iwa-chan your best friend now?’

he tried not to sound jealous for his own best friend’s closeness to you and he added a teasing smile for extra measure

okay that hurted me a bit

iwaizumi snarled and blasted the volleyball towards his face before he could even yell or shout

‘iwa-san, dont do that’

you chided softly, small hands wrapping around his muscly arm

but iwa patted your head

‘deserving people deserve things to happen to them’

you rolled your eyes but smiled at him

‘hai hai’

the next week, iwa still kept a close eye on you in case someone else decided to mess with you 

but you told him that you swear youd tell him if someone did and he trusts you so he backed off a little

one day, he was eating lunch with the other third years in their classroom when you busted through the door, excitedly holding your phone

‘iwa-san! i figured out what country your flag was!’

he was halfway of shoving rice in his mouth when iwa looked at you

‘oh? you couldve just asked me though?’

you pouted and went to pull a chair from another desk to sit beside him

‘nooo. i wanted to work for that information. so you’re from the philippines, iwa-san?’

he nodded proudly

‘yep’

your eyes shone with interest

‘really?! you look japanese so it must be one of your parents. hey, iwa-san, which island are you from? i read about them and they have like 7641 islands-’

the others watched as you read through the article in your phone and iwa wasnt even following your words, instead staring at you with a dazed look and a lovesick smile

mattsun, makki, and oikawa exchanged looks of surprise because in all the years theyve known him especially oikawa, iwa was never interested in girls and such

he was a straight forward man with goals and straight sight to get them done with no distractions like relationships or love

yet here he was

slowly falling in love with you without even knowing he is

he continued to fall with the simplest things about you

from the perfume that you wore everyday to the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear when you were talking to someone

little quirks he used to miss was now being noticed even if you were right behind him and not in his line of vision

now, the boys were starting to see the difference of their precious ace

it was as if when he started to like you, they knew immediately by how he was acting

then one day during practice, you were late and they were all looking around for you and when they couldnt find you, they met back in the gym with nervous looks

iwa was already pacing around, a scary aura radiating off of him, and kindaichi, who went with him to look around the school, warned the others of iwaizumi’s worry

‘he was slamming doors open and he was walking so fast i had to run to even keep up with him’

then you busted through the gym door

you were actually picking up food for the team and sweets and you were held up when makki’s puffs were still being cooked

they rallied around you to make sure you werent hurt and you assured them but iwa pulled them away like picked them up and threw them off to the side and took you in his arms

iwa thought you were hurt and he was so worried something happened to you again

the hug was bone-crushing with how hard he was squeezing you but you felt his worry though and you freed your arms to wrap them around his neck

‘im okay, iwa-san’

you whispered in his ear and he nodded

‘let me hold you for a second’

he mumbled and you nodded

‘oi, theres food in the bags so make sure you eat it all. coach paid for it all so dont leave behind anything’

the mention of the food distracted them from you and iwa and they piled on top of each other to reach their food first

iwa was grateful that you distracted the others from seeing him being vulnerable towards you

‘i thought-’

‘shh,,, you have me right here, right now. safe and sound’

you knew how much seeing you all battered messed him up and his attempt of making you forget about it has been

and his worry of you being gone without no sign of where you went will forever be there and he will always have that thought in the back ofhis mind

the next time you came over, you actually met his parents

since you went home early before, you didnt catch his parents when they came home around 10 minutes after you left

but this time, they were already home with his mom cooking dinner while his father was sitting on the dining chair reading a newspaper

iwa walked through the door, shouting he was home, and you did the same thing to be customary

oof his parents were surprised

his mom turned around to share a look of surprise with her husband

sure they havent seen tooru in a while but they were pretty sure his voice wasnt that high pitched

right?

‘hajime, did you hit tooru so much you ruined his-’

then his mother stopped talking at the sight of you holding iwa’s hand tightly when yall stepped around the corner

you sheepishly smiled at them and bowed your head in greeting

oh my

so this was why iwaizumi hajime-san was really really really handsome

his parents were freaking good looking

like his mother was aphrodite with her flawless melanin skin and doe shaped eyes with a mole under her left eye

and his father was like ares, so handsome yet still manly and his appearance was a special type of good-looking with his buffness and ruffed appearance

‘iwa-san, i didnt know your parents were gods’

you mumbled, still staring at them

iwaizumi choked and coughed, flustered

‘oh my!’

his mother placed a hand over her mouth

‘hello’

his father stood up to walk in front of you and held his hand out

‘i’m hajime’s father’

you let go of hajime’s hand to shake his own with both of your hands

‘really nice to meet you! i’m l/n y/n! seijoh volleyball manager! first year!’

you introduced then stepped aside to fully bow 90 degrees

iwaizumi thought it was so cute of how flustered you were at meeting his parents

‘ay nako! nak, i didnt know you had such a beautiful girlfriend!’

she squealed and hurriedly went to stand in front of you and gently grasped your arms to stand you back straight and took a good look at you

‘youre so beautiful, iha. nice skin, pretty eyes, ang ganda!’

even with your research of tagalog, you didnt quite understand what she was saying

iwa noticed your slightly confused expression and he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets

‘sorry, my nay speaks in taganese when she gets excited’

‘t-taganese?’

‘tagalog and japanese’

you nodded in understanding

it was time to put your basic reserach to test

‘hello po’

you greeted her and nervously took her hand and pressed the back of it to your forehead before slowly lowering it down and letting go

her wide eyes made you think you did something bad or even offensive!

‘i-i’

‘HAY NAKO, HAJIMEE~!’

she shrieked 

‘YUNG-!!! YUNG-!!!’

okay im terrified

iwa noticed his mother’s malfunction and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder and veered her back to her kitchen

‘sorry about her, l/n-chan. its just,,,, hajime hasnt brought home a girl before. and you doing that mustve done it in for her’

you worriedly watched hajime calm his mom down with a smile and talking to her hushed

in their perspective,,,

‘shes so nice, nak! marry her, okay? shes very pretty and she made an effort to please your nanay, so go and marry her!’

ohmylord im nervous

initially, iwa only wanted to go and hang out with you and watch a movie

not have a full dinner with his family

lmao i shouldve told you that youve been friends for months now

his mother cooked sinigang and adobo and more filipino dishes, adding even more when she saw you were joining them

the dining table was covered with a large plate full of food and you were so fascinated because this was a side of iwa that you wanted to know more about

‘wow!’

you said, not thinking, at the deep-fried fish that still had its eyeballs intact

iwa genuinely thought you would’ve shyed away from it in disgust but your eyes were glistening with genuine interest

‘iwa-san! youre so lucky you get to eat this stuff!’

you told him, looking over at his direction

while mrs iwaizumi was lading in the soup into the big bowl, mr iwaizumi was sitting at the dining table, watching your interaction and hajime telling you what each food was and your noises of surprise

he watched his son laugh when you said the palabok reminded you of the orange boy hinata 

and he also watched his son look at you so lovestruck and exactly like how he looks at his wife

soon, his mother finished and they rounded the table before saying a quick prayer to bless the food and digging in

‘so, what do you want to start with, iha?’

mrs iwaizumi asked and your wide eyes looked around

‘hm, im not sure. whats your favorite iwa-san?’

you looked to your right towards hajime who was busy eating and stopped before pointing his lips towards a direction

‘that one’

‘hah?’

you asked 

mrs iwaizumi laughed at her son’s actions

‘sorry, l/n-chan, my son has adapted my traits. he was pointing to this, adobo. do you want some?’

‘yes please’

the smell made your mouth water and you started to tuck in

maybe it was your managerial instincts, but you used your napkin to wipe hajime’s lips and he was also used to this and turned his head to make it easier for you then he went to grab the water jug and re-fill your glass

once it was done, you both silently went back to eating

his parents watched his exchange and it was like watching a married couple taking care of each other

‘so, l/n-chan, you said you were their manager’

mr iwaizumi started and you nodded, wiping your lips

‘yes. i have been for a while now and please, call me y/n’

‘hajime actually told us he had a new manager for his team and tooru told us too. but we didnt know you were a girl. its just so interesting for hajime to bring you home as he has never really had any female friends’

mrs iwaizumi’s comment made you chuckle and iwa’s eyes widened in embarassment

‘nay! of course ive had female friends! ive had friends from all genders!’

he reasoned but you teasingly smiled at him

‘ah, im not really surprised. iwa-san doesnt exactly have the appearance that girls are brave enough to approach’

he sent you a betrayed glance

‘hah?! what’s that supposed to mean?!’

you shrugged, going back to your food

‘im just saying that you always have this intense look in your eyes and youre always frowning. but its cute so its fine. and besides, i dont think theyve seen you laugh since you dont really smile a lot, iwa-san’

‘but you’ve seen me smile!’

‘eung. but its only to me. if they knew the stuff i knew like you being a godzilla fan or your collection of succelents, theyd see you like oikawa-san’

‘HAH?! YOU SEE ME LIKE SHITTYKAWA?!’

mrs iwaizumi held her husband’s hand on the table as they watched you both bicker and tease each other with a smile

hajime has always been on the rougher side of things and he doesnt really have many close friends other than the team and even then, tooru is the only one he can really be himself around

yet here you are, bringing out the boy hajime really is and making him laugh, a sound his parents dont really hear outside the house

and your eyes

god, your eyes held admiration, life,,,, and you might not know this yet,, but love

her eyes trailed her son who teasingly headbutted you and you faking a surprise and doing the same

then you heard his father’s cough which brought you back to where you were and the situation and the people that were there

you felt embarrassment creeping up inside you and you bowed

‘im sorry for acting like that, iwaizumi-san. i-’

‘no, dont apologize, darling. please, dont’

her soft smile made the nerves in you ease and hajime’s father winked at him and he knew exactly what his father was trying to say

after dinner, you volunteered to wash the plates but they veered you away from there and towards the living room 

‘oh my god, pops! stop her!’

hajime whined because he knows what his mother was going to do

she was going to show him his baby pictures

you sat on the beige couch and watched as she reached under the coffee table and revealed a few albums that had iwaizumi hajime written on the cover

‘now, y/n-chan, hajime wasnt always this pouty. in fact, he used to always have a smile on his face and laughed at the littlest things! like right here! a leaf fell on him and he-’

stories of his childhood was exchanged throughout the night and you were laughing so hard that tears were falling out of your eyes while hajime wrapped your shoulders with his arm and he would squeeze you tightly whenever you made fun of him

‘oh dear! iwa-san! you-!’

you didnt finished as you continued to laugh and he sighed

‘nay, can we go eat dessert now?’

he asked his mother and she was beginning to feel sorry for him so she smiled and nodded

‘okay. hajime, come help me’

‘iwaizumi-san, i can-’

‘no, y/n-chan. dont you worry your pretty little head about anything and just look through more of these pictures’

hajime followed his mother to their kitchen before she stopped and turned around

his mother’s height was around 5′1 so she had to look up to meet his eyes and her hands were clasped around his biceps

she is definitely beautiful and he cursed at how little he got from his mother other than her skin color

mrs iwaizumi married her husband and immigrated to japan to have a family and your polite action from earlier moved her as she hasnt experienced that in nearly 2 decades

‘nay, shes,,,, just a friend’

he reasoned, a wobbly smile to cover up his want for that title to change

yet mothers def knows best and saw right through it

she gave him a firm look with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips

‘nak, dont lie to yourself. i raised you to never tell a lie and lying to yourself is considered lying to someone. she’s not your KAibigan, shes your kaIBIGan’

now, hajime knew a little bit of tagalog as his mother made sure he was able to at least speak to his relatives back home

so he got a hint of what she was saying yet was confused 

then he realized it

his blush creeped up his neck and he chuckled, ducking his head low to avoid his mother’s eyes

‘nak, listen to me. papunta ka pa lang, pabalik na ako. youre still growing and you may be confused right now, but make sure to think wisely and dont live with regrets. nanay doesnt want you to go through it all by yourself since she knows how hard it was. so please, listen to me and pursue her. shes special, hajime. she makes you so, so happy. i see it in your eyes, her eyes, god has fated you together. i feel it’

now if a filipino mother actually tells their son to go after a girl, thats a pretty big thing as its known that mothers are the hardest to convince and are fiercely protective of their sons, especially if its an only son, but mrs iwaizumi literally tells hajime to go court you because she sees how happy you make him and is willing to let hajime go to you 

definitely his mother’s words stuck to him and as he walked you home, he was busy thinking that he was quiet and you were worried as he would be talking right now

‘iwa-san? you okay?’

you asked and he blinked, taken back to reality from his daydream

‘hm, yea’

he answered to look at you

hes been pining for months now and he slipped his hand into yours, holding it tightly

uwu if you want to see iwa moments with y/n, read through the seijoh manager series as theres a lot of them in there

he wanted you yet, he knew it would be selfish of him to keep you in the future

he would be a college student while you’re in your 2nd year

would you want to be so far away from him?

could you handle it?

‘yanno, iwa-san, your dad told me something interesting’

you suddenly said, squeezing his hand and kicking rocks while looking up at the night sky

‘what was it? something embarrassing?’

he immediately feared that they told you that story when he was still potty training and he fell straight into the toilet 

‘hmm,,, no. he told me that he met your nanay when she was a high school student and he was a in an intern at your lolo’s company’

iwa listened and he had a smile at how you said the tagalog word for grandfather

‘he said she almost ran him over by her bike and she fled but they met again when she visited your lolo. through that, they became friends and then she confessed to him. apparently, he declined because she was younger than him, although just 3 years, and he was leaving for his own country in a few months so he didnt know if she would wait for him’

were,,,, you reading his mind?

iwa knew of his parents story yet with you telling it, it sounded a million times more interesting

‘yet she promised him. thats it, just a promise. that she would remain faithful to him, she would keep herself for him and when she finally graduates, she would go and find him and they could be happy together. he said it was the longest 3 years of his life yet when he saw in the airport, he felt like the wait was worth it. because he gets to hold the embodiment of happiness in his arms for the rest of his life’

you finished and he hummed

‘times have changed, y/n’

‘even you?’

you stopped walking and he naturally stopped too

‘would you wait for me like he did if i promised myself to you? if i promised you that despite the few years of waiting, i would still be yours and remain yours until we’re ready to be together?’

WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!!!!!

iwa’s heart was drumming in his chest and he wanted so desparately to look at you in the eyes but you were making that impossible as your head was bowed and your eyes were fixed on the concrete you both stood on

‘of course, i would’

your head snapped up and e/c clashed with olive eyes 

‘i would wait for you. we may,,, be young right now. and they might think we’re,,, being impulsive. but i dont care. because right now, all that matters, is you and me. we can think about the consequences later, but right now, i just want to kiss you’

he admitted, red ears seen by the moonlight

your body shook

‘do it, no balls’

well,,,, he has the balls

and under the moon, at 8:34 pm, iwaizumi hajime kissed you

OML THIS REMINDS ME OF THAT SEIJOH SHORT WHEN HE WAS TALKING TO OIKAWA AND HIS NEIGHBORS ARE LIKE ‘AH SHITE HERE WE GO AGAIN’

it didnt come as a surprise to the team when yall announced your relationship

well,, you both actually didnt tell them outright until like weeks later

what can you say?

you and iwa are very private people and you dont really like to show off in public

even though yall lit rally are stuck to the hip and he does things that he doesnt even think hes doing but he is totally doing

you were only caught by,,, guess who

mrs iwaizumi

it was weeks when she met up with mrs oikawa bc theyre totally best friends and thats why their sons are best friends

she told her of her son’s girlfriend and how sweet you were and how mrs oikawa should be jealous that her son doesnt have a girlfriend like that and the standards for oikawa’s future girlfriend was raised just by that teasing

oikawa literally came into after school practice after a phone call with his mother, fuming

you were talking to kindaichi and yahaba with iwa beside you, arm around your waist totally not obvious guys

and yall just saw an angry oikawa stomping towards yall

‘y/n-chan, iwa-chan, why the hell did my mom just call me and tell me that im not allowed to bring home a girl if she doesnt have h/c with s/c (skin color) and e/c and h/m (height measurement)?’

you shrugged

‘oikawa-san, i’ve never even met your mom before’

but iwa had a hunch

‘ahh,,,, my mom mustve been bragging to your mom. yanno how they are’

oikawa shot him a disbelieving look

‘IWA-CHAN! ITS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU GOT A GIRLFRIEND AND I DONT! BUT ITS WORSE THAT YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS AFFECTING MY FUTURE ONE!’

he ranted, completely unaware that he just outed your entire relationship to the team

tbh they werent even surprised

like they were all ‘damn now shes taken. but cant say i didnt see that coming’

they took it pretty well too

they know how iwa is and they literally respect this mans and if anything, out of the whole team, he is the best candidate for your boyfriend

dating iwa is totally normal and yall just have increased touches?? like i dont know how to explain like he’s constantly holding your hand or arm around your waist or shoulder etc

literally nothing changed

you still have dinners at his house and iwa also knows your family and all that

and the most important thing is,

he kept that promise

even when he was literally at the other side of the world,

he still remained yours and you kept your own promise and waited patiently for his return

OOOOO TIMESKIP IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETE TRAINER

a little girl with bouncing dark brown hair was giggling as she maneuvered herself around the tall people

a shout from her parents and little sister was only making her run faster until she crashed into the legs of the person she’s been looking for

his blue jersey was similar to hers and she raised her arms up with a bright smile

‘uncle!’

she yelled and he chuckled before hoisting her up to his arms

‘ah, reyna-chan, didnt mom and dad tell you to wait for them? look! tala-chan is crying because you left her’

she followed his finger to her little sister, who was in her father’s arms, crying and reaching out for her

‘nee-chan!’

she screeched

finally, her parents were there and you were scolding her for running off

‘reyna, just dont do that again’

you said and she nodded, pouting and holding her uncle’s thumb

‘thank you, tooru-san. i dont know what i would do if she got lost’

oikawa grinned then gently patted the hat-covered head of the newborn baby girl that was strapped to your chest

‘hehe, its okay, y/n-chan. after all! uncle is always there to save reyna-chan!’

she shrieked when he held her up and hajime shook his head in his antics

‘where’s the others? i saw them in the stands but-’

he was cut off when he heard the shouts and yells from the other side that could only belong to your boys

‘woooo!!!!’

kindaichi’s voice echoed through the place and mattsuhana were rushing to greet their goddaughters

tala shyly accepted the arms of mattsun while makki was squealing quietly when darna was holding his finger tightly as she slept

‘taka-san, wanna hold her? she’s easier to hold when she’s sleeping’

‘oh can i?’

his eyes held the stars as the 11-month-old raised her fist then lowered it back down, sleep still heavy on her

‘waaa~ darna-chan is growing really quickly’

kunimi whispered, peering over his senpai to look at the baby whos eyes kept fluttering

you chuckled while looking at oikawa and him playfully bouncing reyna

‘tooru-san, congratulations on your win. it seems you’ve beaten hajime this time’

you complimented and the brunette smiled brightly at you, adjusting the little girls in his arms

‘ei, y/n-chan, i’ll beat him next time, and next time and the next time!’

every time he said ‘next’ he gave his goddaughter a kiss on her cheek making her giggle

your husband was pouting at the reminder of japan’s loss and you reached over to wrap your arms around him causing hajime to turn his head away from you

‘aww, my 4th baby is sad now’

you cooed and cupped his face delicately on your hands making him sulk and whine

the others, watching the scene, continue to be surprised at this side of their captain that remains to only be caused by you

‘ugh, nearly a decade later and theyre still sappy’

yahaba gagged and watari slapped his back

‘let them be happy’

‘come on! im in the mood for spaghetti! you like spaghetti, tala-chan?’

‘eung!’

mattsun cheered with kindaichi and she raised her hands to share the same energy

once everyone was situated in a restaurant and ordered, small talks were shared around the table of the past

‘haha, spaghetti is how your baba found out about you, tala-chan’

yahaba’s comment made the walking group laugh at the memory of seeing the video you sent in the seijoh group chat

‘i wanted to be creative with my second child since my firstborn was revealed by this loudmouth’

oikawa winced at the indirect diss at him

‘y/n-chan! i was really excited to find out i was going to be an uncle!’

‘youre already an uncle, bakakawa!’

hajime has toned down the insults to keep it pg for the children

‘but-!’

they started to argue, the oldest daughter looking disinterested as she sees this happening or hearing it whenever her dad and uncle video chat

‘it took me forever to find a ‘prego’ pasta sauce in the grocery store like i dont know why. was there a shortage?’

you complained, remembering the frustration

your fellow first years snickered at you and kindaichi prodded fun at you

‘is that why you just outright told him you were pregnant the day you found out?’

you rolled your eyes and watched makki and mattsun and tala watch the youngest as she wiggled her fists in the air and was awake enough to babble ‘makki’ over and over again

that was her first word and although she is now able to say a few words, she still repeats her first word over and over again

‘we had a fight and it just came out so of course i didnt have time to prepare!’

you defended and hajime finished his antics with oikawa just as you said that

‘what-what was your words again? ‘i really want to push you off the roof right now but i want my baby to meet their bastard father first?’‘

you gasped at that regretful statement and punched him in the arm

‘hajime! stop!’

you whined and covered your face with the sleeves of your his hoodie

‘hehe, y/n, you should do that again’

kyotani teased and you glared at him

‘shut up kyotani’

eyebrows were raised

‘eh? are you more hormonal?’

‘do you realize you already have 3 daughters?’

‘iwaizumi-san really wants to have a volleyball team family’

‘at least wait a year and a half, you animals’

‘so,, like hes that good huh?’

hajime growled and leaned over to intimidate but you snarled and jumped on your feet, being held back by the arms by kindaichi and hajime to stop yourself from leaping across the table to kill yahaba

‘keep talking like shite and i’ll make sure none of you become the godfather of this baby’

okay what

one, did you just curse

and two, this baby?!

‘im big sister again?!’

reyna ruined the surprised silence and then chaos ensued

‘WHAT!’

‘BABY?!’

‘THIS BABY?!’

you just realized what you said and smirked at the chaos you created and sat back down, leaning on the back of the chair and smugly taking a sip of your water

‘oh the power i hold in my hands’

you teased and oikawa pointed at you

‘when! how long!’

you looked at hajime who was so shocked that his eyes glazed over and a passerby wouldve thought he was dead

‘apparently 3 months’

oikawa started counting and his eyes widened at that thought

‘you-! you stayed in argentina! in my house! my house-!’

‘yep. both of them created under your house’

what 

!!!!!

hajime fainted 

oikawa screamed

a/n: okay i admit i got a little too carried away with this one. i just love filo!iwa and this was mostly written in his pov bc cmon we all know we love iwa and fell in love w him the moment we saw him

[winter-fox-queen]

Albatross

Summary:  Frankie wants to give you your dream vacation, but he’s not sure if it is worth the price.  

Warnings:  Female reader.  (He calls her his girl, and she wears a skirt in one scene.)  Angst.  No smut.  I thought I would finally write smut, this was going to be a very different story where they were AT the place already, but.  No.  Angst with a nice ending because I can't leave Frankie to suffer too long.

Thanks to @autumnleaves1991-blog -- you are awesome and this picture is lovely.  

1,870 words.

Frankie didn’t lie to you.  Not about this, at least.

Well.

Not really.  He was working extra, taking extra shifts.  Except for right now.  Right now, he was in a cabin in the middle of a state forest, one of the very few things he’d bought with the money.  A place to hide.  To be at peace.

It was not working. The money felt like a weight. Half of each share had gone to Redfly’s family.  Half had gone to each man.  He’d hoped for freedom.  This was anything but.

I shouldn’t have hidden it in the cabin.  He once watched a TV show about Escobar, seen that one of the caches of money he’d hidden outside had gotten moldy.  So Frankie had gone into the cellar.  Dug up a section of the dirt floor.  Made a proper hiding place, kneeling in the dirt, mixing up quickcrete and placing stones until the cellar was paved in with stone pavers.  Three were loose.  Only one had a reinforced box with another box and a bunch of money that could change his life but he can’t even look you in the eye and explain that he has it.

So here he was, sitting on the weathered wood bench in front of the cabin you did not even know he owned, resting his cheek on his fist, looking at the cabin of his damned dreams like it was a haunted death trap from a B horror movie.

He signed, grabbed the magazine he’d dropped on the ground earlier, flipping it to an article you’d been sighing over when you thought he wasn’t looking.  The ultimate romantic getaway, with tiled pools and greenery and luxurious accommodations and candlelight dinners.  

“That’s pretty,” he’d said over your shoulder as you looked at the main picture of the article, a swimming pool tiled and beautiful – all Middle East and mysterious looking, making you think of romance and beauty.  

“I love it,”  you admit.  “I’d never get to go…but it is beautiful.  Have to win the lottery.”  She grinned at him.

He looked it up online, curious.  Frankie the pilot/mechanic couldn’t afford it.  Not even with extra shifts and only one beer on Fridays and watching every penny.

The other Frankie could.

So that was why he found himself in the cellar.  If you knew which paver it was to start from, and which direction to go, it was just a knight chess move, probably obvious and stupid, but he did not trust himself to remember any other way.  He pried it up carefully so not to scratch the stone and give away the hiding place.

He stared at the hole. The carefully wrapped money.  He fumbled for his phone, and by some miracle the call went through.

“Hey Frankie.”  Pope’s voice sounded tired, but warm.  Not quite there.

“If you really, really love someone, is it OK to lie to them?”

Pope didn’t think before he replied.  “Of course not.”

“If you really, really love someone and want to do something to make them happy, is it OK to lie about where you got the money for it?”

That stopped Pope. Pope, instead of being split focused was now, 100%, listening.  “Frankie…”

Frankie, waiting, crouching by the hidden safe, phone to one ear, other hand relaxed on his knee. Waiting.  Frankie was very good at waiting.

Pope sputtered a little, tried to think of what to say.  Finally. “Yeah, Frankie.  It’s OK.”

It’s what he wanted to hear but it wasn’t the truth and he knew it.  “I’ve never loved anyone like I love her.  I’ve never wanted anything in my life like I want her, want her happiness. But there’s this whole chunk of my life that she doesn’t even know about.  I look at this damned cabin and I think, she’d love it up here.  Her car broke down and she needed to buy a new one, and I could have bought her a fucking car so she wouldn’t have to worry about payments.”

“I know,”  Pope muttered, but Frankie is on a roll.  

“And the one damned thing I’ve ever seen her really, really want and it’s this damned vacation and I can give it to her.  I can fucking pay for it, but if she finds out how it’ll ruin everything.  She won’t be able to enjoy it.  The memory will be ruined.  I can’t fucking win.  What good is it, if I have this, and I can’t even use a little of it to make my girl happy?”

Pope, picking words, both because he’s not sure what to tell Franlie and because he is paranoid about anyone (doubtful) listening in.  “Maybe…maybe that is the good.  You can’t…make it better, right?  But you can…clean it.  Make good memories for your girl.  Do good things for the people you love.”  Pope sighed. “I can’t…I can’t bear it, either, you know?  I save it for a rainy day, but…”

“I didn’t think the guilt would last so long,”  Frankie said.

“No.”

“Maybe I should tell her.”

A pause.  “I can’t think of any way to tell that story without things going to shit.”

“I don’t like lying to her.”

“No.”  Another pause.  “Please don’t tell her unless you know you can trust her.”

“She won’t blab.” Frankie glared at the phone.

“Don’t get insulted on her behalf.  Everyone you love could get hurt…including her.”

Guilt seized his heart so hard he wondered if he was going to have a heart attack, right there.

“You OK, man?”

“Yeah.  Yeah.”  He said through numb feeling lips.  “I’m ok.”

He slipped his phone in his pocket, reached in, and took what he thought he could use, and carefully hid everything again.

Then he got very devious.

You can put up to 15,000 on a prepaid Visa gift card.  He went to a place where people were smart enough not to ask questions, or even care. One of those places where you want to wash your clothes after you leave.

Then he called the resort. “Look, I have these friends…” he said, “I want to treat them, but they can’t know who I am…”  The prepaid card was as good as a credit card.

And then he went home, and waited for you to check your email.  Sweating.  

And, obscurely, jealous of himself.  Super fucking jealous of himself, the more he thought about it.  Like, he hated the mysterious benefactor who was about to make the love of his life so happy.

He wanted to be the one. Wanted your eyes to light up and know it was because he’d been able to provide for you, he’d been able to make this happen.  He closed his eyes and swallowed it.  It was stupid and selfish…what did it matter, who got the credit as long as you got this? As long as it made you happy? Frankie would be there, seeing your smile when you stood next to that glorious tiled pool, watch you dabble your toes shyly in the water, as if to ask, can I really have this?

And it did.

“Frankie!”  You came in, sat on his lap.  Your arms were warm around him, you made a soft and perfect armful as he wrapped himself around you, let your lips peck happy kisses all over his face.

“What is it, baby?”  

You pull back.  “You know.  The trip.”

Frankie raises his eyebrows, all innocence, starts to protest, but you silence him with another kiss.

“I know, baby, who loves me enough to put so much effort into planning things like this.  The surprise is nice, but you know I’m not dumb.” You toss aside his cap and run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently, and Frankie sighs softly, his eyes shutting a little.  He opens them again when your hands cup his cheeks.  

You look very serious. And a little sad.  Which hits his Oh Shit button, hard.

“You didn’t have to go to all this effort, baby.  You really didn’t.”

“Well, I…”  he tried to think of something to say, but settled for, “I love you.  I love you so much, you don’t even…”

This earns him a kiss on the forehead.  Then you say, “I know how you got the money.” And his blood runs cold.  Before he could marshal some sort of reply, you continue, “Come on, Cat.  Long hours. Extra shifts?  I know that the people down at the field are not the most upstanding of people.  But…baby, it’s so dangerous.”

It doesn’t take him much to put the pieces together.  “You think I’m running drugs?”  It comes out as an incredulous squeak.

You nod.  “It makes sense.  This dream – literally a dream vacation – is not cheap.  And I never expected it.  You know that?  I enjoyed day dreaming about going with you because I love you and I want to take you all over the world…”  You sigh. “I just want to see the beautiful things of this world through your eyes.”

This time, Frankie does the silencing, with a gently thumb over your lips.  “Sweetheart, I didn’t…”

You kiss the pad of his thumb.  “You gonna try and tell me this money came on the up and up?  Baby, I know how much you make.”

You look at each other for a long moment.  You, work skirt hiked up so you can straddle his thighs, sitting closer to his knees,  Frankie, his hands gentle on your hips so you don’t fall.

“I could tell you,” he says, softly.  The words running underneath But I don’t want to and you might not like it.

You are sharp.  That’s one of the things he likes about you, how much you see.  It’s also one of the things that scares him the most.  Finally, “Are you in danger?”

Frankie shakes his head, once.  

“Is it…is it the reason why sometimes you get so sad?”

One nod.  A little smile.  He watches you digest this.  Make a decision.  

The delicate hands come up to frame his face again.  You look him right in the eyes.  “You are a good man.  I don’t know what happened, and maybe, someday, you can tell me.  But you are good and kind and I love you.”  And you kiss him again, this time so fiercely that his thinks it’s going to bruise, and he’s fine with that.

You lean back again.  “Humph.  Well. If you’d not already paid for it, I’d probably save the money to pay on the car.”

“No take backs.”  He grins despite himself.  

“Rats.”  You grin back.  Slide off his lap.  “Now to call Darla and see when I can take off, and then we are buying you a new swim suit.”  You bounce on your feet, then turn to go for your phone.

Frankie leans back against the cushions with a groan.  “I do not need…”

You peek around the doorframe.  “You are not going to a five star resort in purple swim trunks with catfish on them!”

“They were a present!” he calls after your retreating form, and grins at the ceiling.

It’s going to be alright, he thinks, feeling lighter.  It’s going to be alright.