#sorry everyone i have Music Disease where i think about music a lot

[drgngutz]

10 - Coast - Luffy x f!soulmate!reader

Chapter 10

Taglist: @mystic60 , @louisechec , @pinksh1t , @violetmatcha , @urbisexualfriend

Masterlist!

Sorry in advance... This part is like a whole book lol. After this chapter the rest get a lot shorter, it took FOREVER to write this one.

Enjoy <3

It's past nightfall, and the crew and I have made ourselves at home in the half-house of Mont Blanc Cricket. He had initially attacked us, thinking we were thieves coming to steal his golden treasures, before fainting suddenly from a diving disease. When he came to, after Dr. Chopper's treatment, he was entirely apologetic. 

Words and motivations are exchanged, apologies are shared, and he comes to the decision that he would help us make it to sky island on something called the knock-up stream; a dangerous way of traveling to be sure, and I wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of being thrust into the sky, just to possibly fall back down and become fish food. 

I had been subtly keeping an eye on Luffy throughout the ordeal, on edge after he came back from Mocktown where he, Nami and Zoro went out for information...

A dull pain spreads across my skin; spots on my face, arms and torso seem to burn without a source. It was weird, looking down at the untouched surface, but feeling like I was covered in cuts and bruises all the same. 

"Luffy, Zoro!" Usopp calls, sounding extremely concerned. I look up from where we’re working on the ship; My brows furrow at the blood staining their clothes. 

"W-What happened? Why are you bleeding?" Usopp prods further. They don’t give him an answer. 

I scan Luffy head to toe, noting the marred skin on all the same spots where I could feel the pain resonating; that answered the question, another factor of the soulmate link I suppose, but it didn't make me any less worried. They had gone into town to find some answers about sky island, not to get into fights and cause trouble. 

"Luffy, what-- Are you okay?" I met him halfway as they made their way back to the boat. My hands are itching to reach out and brush the blood from his face as we stand in front of each other, but I hold back the feeling, holding them at my sides hesitantly. 

"What are you so worried about?" He laughs, and my shoulders slouch. 

"I'm fine. Let's go." And he walks past without another word. At the moment, it feels like he's brushed me off. Maybe he didn't like me fretting over him? 

Nami is quick to unknowingly distract me as I walk up to her and ask if she's okay; delving straight into a rant about how the two men were being 'idiotic' and how she was publicly humiliated for asking about sky island. 

“They all laughed at me! And those two morons just stood there and did nothing–” 

At the time, I'm too busy appeasing Nami and letting her vent her sorrows, I don’t notice the eyes zeroing in on the back of my head as he grins. 

Now he was fine, of course. He never was phased by many of his wounds, from what I could tell. In fact, he was parading around with the monkey brothers, rough housing, dancing, shouting, eating-- You get the picture.

To be honest, it seemed like the events from earlier today seemed totally forgotten in general. Everyone was partying now, munching on Sanji's snacks and drinking to their hearts delight. Music plays softly in the background. I try my best to ease into the atmosphere and forget about before, too. 

"Here, have some!" Nami holds the wooden tankard toward me, offering me the sickly-sweet smelling drink. Her cheeks are flushed. 

"I'm good, thanks though." I smile, lifting my own cup of juice to show I already had a drink. I wasn't interested in alcohol, anyways. 

"Hey, why don't you girls come sit next to me, huh?" Cricket's face is an even darker shade of red, covering his cheeks, nose, forehead, and ears as the bottle of wine sloshes in his hand. I smile at him bashfully, and lean into Nami, who giggles and leans back. Sanji is quick to cover for us, though I knew the older man didn’t mean much harm. 

"Woah-- You're about a hundred years too old to be hitting on Nami; and (Y/n)'s taken, anyway." His foot is planted on the older man's face, holding him back from leaning too close to us. I'm amazed that he's able to keep holding the plates of food as he does this, expertly laying some down in front of us. 

I take a bite of some sort of fish sashimi, and my spirits lift at the flavor. 

"This is amazing, Sanji!" I compliment him, going for another piece. 

"Oh, (Y/n)! I feel I may go to heaven when an angel like you speaks to me like that!" He spins, hearts in his eyes as he nearly whacks Luffy in the face with his foot. It looks like he's completely forgotten his own words from earlier, when emphasizing that I was taken.

"I always compliment your cooking..." I trail off with a little giggle, finally feeling the effects of the good mood begin to rub off on me. 

"'The skulls right eye!'" 

Cricket says in a haunting tone from across the room. How did he get there so quickly, you ask? I have no idea. 

"'That's where I saw the gold.'" He quotes from 'Noland the Liars' log book, which lies in Robin's hands. Noland was Cricket's ancestor, so I wasn't surprised if he might've memorized the documents; despite his insistence on hating his predecessor. 

"Those words, smeared with tears, were the last ones Noland wrote in his logbook. 'The skulls right eye, that's where I saw the gold.'" Everyone in the room stops, enraptured in the exhilaration of his words. And, frankly, so am I. To imagine the possibility of an entire city of gold, of an island in the sky; that was stuff that people could only dream of in the modern world. It was enough to make something as amazing as Time’s Square look bland.

"Noland was executed the same day." There's a heavy silence as nobody speaks, on the edge of their seat, waiting for him to continue. 

"Even after coming to Jaya, I still don't know what he meant by that. Is it referring to the name of a city, or an old landmark that used to reside on the island? Was it just a poetic allusion to his own impending death? The blank pages that follow give us no clue..." Luffy has begun eating again at this point, moaning happily at the taste of the food through Cricket's storytelling. 

"That's why we keep diving to the bottom of the ocean; We have a dream, and it’s on the seafloor!" The crew, Masira and Shoujou let out a 'hurrah' at the end of Cricket's speech. 

Dreams. It was a topic that came up time and time again in our travels. An important topic to everyone I had met so far. The crew, Zenny, Henzo, Cricket, and I; we all had dreams that we wanted to fulfill. There were places we wanted to go, people we wanted to see, mysteries to solve, people to find...

I looked at Luffy, who was still happily chewing away, before looking back down at the food before us and finding my own snack to munch on. 

I guess I had already found my own dream, right?

"'The day I arrived on Jaya. Entry for May 21st, 1122. Upon landing on the island, we heard strange bird calls and the sound of a very large bell coming from the forest. The sound of that huge golden bell resonated far and wide, almost as if showing off the prosperity of a city long past! We thought we knew everything after living for a few decades... but experiencing the transience of this civilization that flourished for a long time on the wide open sea left us speechless! The sound of the bell had us stopped in our tracks!'" Cricket ended the quote with an enigmatic roar, which the trio of monkey boys echoed just as enthusiastically. 

"I just love stories with bells in them, especially gold ones!" Nami cheered, and I rolled my eyes with a laugh.

“Nami, you love anything that’s shiny and has a price tag.” She playfully slapped my shoulder, and I shied away jokingly. 

Right after Nami said it, Cricket produced that exact object from a large crate in the corner of the room; three golden bells. The girl, proving my point, practically jumped on them. 

"Huh... Doesn't seem too enormous to me." Usopp observed with a hand on his chin. Nami was cuddling one of the objects with Berry signs in her eyes. 

"These aren't that bell. They're bell-shaped golden ingots we found on the ocean floor." Cricket responded with a close-eyed smile. 

"No way. So there really is a city of gold!" Luffy cried, finally done eating. 

"It's still not proof, though! You could find golden relics like that lying around in any old ruins." Shoujou yells at him, trying not to let his anticipation get too high (a futile effort with Luffy). 

"Maybe so," Robin begins, and I know she's about to give us some historically-accurate-based-hope that would reinforce their belief in the mythical city; "But it does suggest that there was a civilization here sometime in the past. Ingots are made to divide gold into standardized units of weight. And that would indicate an advanced trading society."

"Exactly," Cricket affirms, "And remember that peculiar bird call he said they heard when they landed? Show it to 'em, Masira." 

Masira is moving before Cricket finishes his sentence, unveiling another, much larger, artifact composed completely out of gold. The creature that it depicts looks like a morphed version of a toucan, with a large beak and small body. Everyone is awed at the way it glistens in the candlelight. 

"Golden bells and birds, huh? Do you think they might be symbols of some ancient Jayan civilization?" Sanji asked, and I had to agree with the topic of the question; so far, all signs were pointing to that being the case. 

"I really couldn't say for certain, but I'm pretty sure all these pieces were a part of the same casting. This creature here is called the South Bird, and they still exist on this island today." Cricket pulled it closer to himself, inspecting the golden exterior for scuffs. Luffy follows it eagerly. 

"Wow, so they have a peculiar call?" The curious boy asks, still staring down at the remnant in wonder. 

"Uh-huh," Cricket confirms, "Just like in the log book." 

"Sailors have used South birds on ships since ancient times, so that--" Masira chokes on the words before he can finish speaking, and the two monkey brothers gasp in realization, looking at each other nervously. I furrow my brow, concerned, before hearing Cricket make the same noise. 

"Oh, crap!" The three of them emit, jumping to a stand in the middle of the room, a newfound urgency in what was once a laid back stance. 

"What's wrong?" The crew responds with equal importance. 

"This is really bad," Cricket spits, "You guys gotta' get to the forest on the South side of the island right away!" 

"Huh? Are you crazy, old guy?" Luffy looks at Cricket with a deadpan, not sure what he was talking about. I wasn’t sure what the problem was either. 

"Don't waste a minute! You gotta' capture one of these birds, and quickly!" Cricket chastised his question, before continuing swiftly.

"Now, listen carefully," he didn't waste another moment, "Tomorrow you're gonna' sail for the knock up stream; it lies directly South of here. How are you going to get there?" 

"We just sail the ship due South, of course." Luffy grunts, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed as if the conversation was beginning to aggravate him. 

"Have you forgotten this is The Grand Line?! You're heading for the open sea, you won't be able to get your bearings!" Cricket shouts. 

"Wait, he's right. Without an island to lock onto, the log pose will be useless and there will be no way to navigate!" Nami exclaimed, looking anxious at the idea. 

"Oh." I said out loud, the cause of all this commotion clicking together in my head. They all turned to look at me. 

"W-Well," I started after noticing they were waiting for me to elaborate, "We need a South bird, and we need to go South... I'm just guessing, but does the South bird help us get there somehow?" 

The crew all looked at me like I was crazy. 

"I-I dunno,' maybe it like… migrates, or something." I finish nervously, before Cricket huffs out a puff of smoke from his cigarette. 

"She's right; you can use the South bird in order to get there. Certain animals are known to have a very accurate internal sense of direction, as if they're born with a natural compass." Cricket finalizes, and Usopp pats my shoulder apologetically for not believing me. I give him a look. 

"That makes Zoro dumber than an animal!" Luffy chortles. 

"Yeah, right, like you're one to talk!" 

"The South bird is a perfect example of this," Cricket ignores them, "their bodies always point in the same direction. Basically, if you don't get to that forest and catch one of those birds right now, you'll kiss your only chance to get to sky island goodbye!" 

Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp all screech in horror at the idea, before assuming a desperate scramble to get going. The rest of the crew follows, and we begin to rush out like a bunch of clowns in a tiny car. Despite Usopp's annoyance at the ordeal, Cricket hands out a few nets to aid in the capture. 

"The three of us are gonna' get started on the repairs to your broken-down ship." The monkeys are waving goodbye from behind Cricket, and I take that as our cue to leave. As soon as I turn though, I'm met with Zoro. 

"I think you should stay here," He gruffs, "since you've been working on the ship with Usopp, you can tell them about all the broken parts. We'll find the bird." 

I'm taken aback, speechless. I glance between his stern eyes, then at the gazes of the crew behind him, who seem to genuinely consider his statement. Sure, I wasn't the strongest in the group, but did he really think I couldn't help them find the South bird? Was I really that useless to them? 

I didn't get to ask him why, before Cricket interrupted. 

"Actually, yeah. That would be pretty helpful, so we don’t miss anything." 

"Are... you sure?" I finally spoke up, "You don't want my help?"

"Nah!" Luffy joyfully replies, "Zoro’s right, we're good. You should help Cricket out, anyways!" 

"Oh." I say softly, not even sure if they could hear me. As the group heads towards the forest, the only one who has a semblance of recognition for me getting left behind is Usopp, who begs to stay with me out of fear. Zoro gives me a nod, before following the rest of the group.

My chest hurts. I wanted to go with them.  

"We'll be back, okay?" Nami calls, "See you soon!"

I stand there, holding my marked arm in my hand. Their figures disappear into the darkness, before Cricket comes over and places a hand on my shoulder. I look up at him wearily. 

"Come on, there's no time to waste." I nod in response, trudging after him to the beat-up vessel. 

—

I do my best to identify and list each problem that the ship has over the next hour that passes, entirely off of my memory. The past few weeks of helping Usopp with its repairs were coming in handy. Still, it’s hard to stay focused when you have a realization that your crew might not actually value you as a member yet, despite your efforts, and still only sees you as some free-loader who can't really contribute; because you’re a weakling-weirdo who came here from another world a few weeks ago, and your soulmate still doesn't really give a damn about you at all. 

I wish I wasn't so useless. 

"Alright, that's the mast finished. What's next, short stack?" Masira hollers, and I take a look at the sides of the ship which are a patch-work of boards. I'm doing my best to get rid of the nauseous feeling in my stomach. 

"Well, the sides of the ship need work, and the hull does too... Some of the floorboards still need to be replaced, and..." I trail off, trying to organize my thoughts. 

"I'm guessing you're not too familiar with this line of work, kid." Cricket observes, and I shrink. 

"Sorry." I mumble, averting my eyes to The Merry's figure head. It looks back at me, silent and judging. 

"Don't be sorry," the older man continued, "I was just gonna' say that might've been the reason they left you behind." 

Something pinches in my chest. 

"Right... yeah, probably." I deflated, before moving to grab one of the boards they were using for the repairs. 

"Don't take it in a negative way, kid." He stops me in my tracks, and I turn to look at him. What positive way was there to think about this? 

"You're soulmates with Luffy, right?" I nod, "Then it's probably because of your lack of experience that they left you here; it's much safer here with us than it is out in the dark, in those woods. Try not to be so down about it." 

I blink, wrapping my head around the words, before slowly nodding again. He had a point, I suppose… But, why hadn’t they just said that in the first place? If they were worried about keeping me safe, they could’ve just said so. 

"Hey, Old Timer!" Shoujou shouts, his green hair flowing in the wind as the two of us look up at him. 

"We've got some company!" He points at a ship that's nearly ready to dock at the side of the island, not too far from where we stood in front of Cricket's home. None of us had managed to notice it until that point. 

"Who is that?" Cricket asks out loud, and I shake my head, stumped. 

"I dunno.'" I say quietly, before the two monkey brothers have made their way over. 

The boat, a dull brown with pink and gray accents, lowers the bridge for the crew to dock. Their jolly-roger waves in the brisk wind, showcasing a stuck-out tongue and lips over crossed bones. A small crowd of twelve people begins to filter out, led by a blonde man with a pink shirt and a blue-and-gold-adorned coat over his shoulders. His sinister smile matches the one on the figure head, crossed out with a half-slash. Cricket pushes me behind him before they get too close. I lose most of my visibility. 

"Mont Blanc Cricket!" He shouts from across the landscape, a wild edge to his tone. 

"Rumor in town says you've fished up quite the sum of gold recently... I'd like to have it for myself!" Pirates, I think, and not the good kind. 

"Now, now, little boy," Shoujou starts, voice carrying over the whipping wind, "You don't really wanna' go and make us angry, do you?" 

"It's not nice to show up in the middle of the night and demand gold from someone, now get lost! We've got a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it." Masira backs him up, chuckling as he cracks his knuckles. 

The man from before, whom I assume is the Captain, begins to cackle in a way that reminds me of a hyena. 

"You must be the bodyguards, and the old man must be the ex-pirate named Cricket... I heard the sad story of the Mont Blancs family, back at the pub. It moved me to tears." He taunted, and I could hear the teasing edge of his voice… He was mocking them.

"But stealing another man's treasure moves me even more; I'm a pirate, after all!” He grunts, and I hear the rustling of fabric as he removes his coat. 

"Maybe you'd like to know what people call me before I take your whole life's work. The Hyena!" Fitting. 

He chortles in a high pitch, true to his name; I can feel the tension thicken in the air, sticking uncomfortably to my skin, just as it always does right before a fight ensues. It seems they haven’t noticed me yet, and I'm thankful for Cricket allowing me to use him as a human shield.

"If you're looking for a fight, you've come to the right place!" Shoujou responds heartedly. 

"You're gonna regret mockin' the Saruyama alliance!" Masira is in a fighting stance, looking ready for whatever was inevitably coming our way. 

And it comes quickly. The crewmates charge with a rambunctious shout, throwing fists and words as they do it. I move back into the house as Cricket joins the skirmish, not looking to get myself involved. 

"Hand over the gold, Old Man! Do it quickly, and we may even let you live!" Another man with light blue hair, donned with a fur coat, gold chain, and striped gloves shouts as Cricket dodges. 

"You forgot to say 'please!'" He thrusts out his leg and kicks the guy in the chin after effectively blocking all of his punches; the blue haired man flips backward from the force of it. 

The Monkey brothers are holding their own just as well, effectively slamming away four or five other crewmates that had joined in on the action. 

Their captain, 'The Hyena,' stands with arms crossed and an excited smile. The sight makes my skin crawl. What the hell was he up to? 

"Looks like the boys might actually need a hand…" The blonde licks his lips, eyes wide. 

"Guess I'd better show 'em how it's done!" 

The others are too focused on the fight to realize what's happening, but I'm not. 

I watch the blonde's legs as they morph into springs. He crouches down, springs coiling; looking ready to pounce, and aiming for Masira. 

There isn’t a chance to warn him of what's coming, since the captain has already shot himself across the way, straight into Masira's back. 

The monkey-man groans, dropping the man in his hold as his back bends, and his eyes roll back. His body awkwardly molds into a ‘C’ shape, all due to the spring-man's punch.

Before he can recover, the blonde grabs Masira and launches himself off of the monkey's face, effectively punching Shoujou while simultaneously knocking his brother behind him. 

Next, he springs for Cricket, who dodges in the nick of time; however, the blonde is quick to rebound, landing on the Going Merry and propelling off of it with enough force to snap the hull in two. 

Cricket must've been too shocked to retaliate. The captain had punched him dead in the face within the next second, maintaining terrifying accuracy and speed. I watched the blood spill from the old man's lips in horror as he ragdolled onto the dirt. 

"Way to go, Bellamy!" One of the women of his crew acts as a cheerleader for the massacre, overjoyed by her captains brutality. 

"Cricket!" I cry out, pushing myself past the doorway and rushing to his side. He was laying so still, he looked like he was dead. I was anxious about him taking such a beating with his condition, since Chopper was so serious about it earlier. What if this pushed him past his limit? 

I don't make it very far, before I'm shoved in the shoulder and to the ground by the man with light-blue hair. 

"Look, Bellamy; they've got a girl!" He grins, and points his double-edged sword so that it rests under my chin. His Captain howls with laughter. 

"Well, well, well! Looks like Cricket might still have that pirate's spirit in him, after all!" He uncrosses his arms, reaching for his coat on the ground. 

I shiver as the cold steel brushes against my skin, not taking my eyes off the blade, even as it reflects the brightness of the moon into my eyes and blinds me. 

I’m too scared to swallow or breathe wrong. Any slight movement and he could have my neck sliced wide open. 

"Why don't we take you with us, huh?" The man removes the weapon from my jugular, finally, and I feel my limbs tremble. 

"How about it, we can pay you real nice in return..." He suggests. I feel like I could puke at his insinuation. 

"Enough!" Shouts Bellamy, "Grab her, and clean up this trash. Get the gold and take care of them."

Wordlessly, the blue-haired man reaches down and picks me up like a sack of potatoes, moving toward the massive ship. 

"No--" I grunt, trying to pry his arm off of me, "Lemme' go! I don't want to--" 

I kick and struggle the whole way, trying to get him to put me back down, but he doesn’t even acknowledge me. No matter how many times I punch or slap, my strikes are weak. 

The rest of their crew rushes past and begins to beat whatever life is left out of the Saruyama Alliance. They smash, jab, slash; all while they're still lying on the ground, stiff and unmoving. And they still don't stop, even as their blood begins absorbing into the grass. 

"Stop it!" I cry desperately, voice grating as tears run down my face, "Please, stop! Cricket, Masira, Shoujou!" 

"So much for your Saruyama Alliance," Bellamy chuckles, "Just an old man and a couple of overgrown apes!" 

"Just take the gold and go!" I yelp, getting closer and closer to their boat. 

"Haven't you done enough? Leave them alone!" 

"Shut her up, Sarquiss. I've had enough of her yowling." 

"Will do, Captain Bellamy." The gag is tied tightly around my head when they wrangle me onto the ship, inevitably rendering me unable to speak. They bind my hands and feet, before leaving me in the ship's corner, where I can still see the island.

As the crew begins to cast off, bag of Crickets gold in tow, I stare longingly over the rails; sobbing into the rag as I watch the limp forms of the Saruyama Alliance get farther and farther away. 

Quaking in my corner, no longer being able to worry about the Saruyama Alliance, I glanced around at the horrible smirking faces of Bellamy’s crew. In my haste to help Cricket, I had forgotten about my own safety. 

Where were they taking me? What if they were leaving the island? 

They couldn’t just take me, could they? But, then… How would the crew ever find me again? 

I hadn’t thought this through. 

I closed my eyes tightly. The tears squeezed out, anyway. 

--- 

"Hey, old guy! We caught one of those birds!" Luffy's voice echoes across the now-destroyed scene. Footsteps echo across the land, not yet seeing it, and blindly making their way through the dark. 

The crew stops short, finally seeing the wreck before them; a few of them gape in horror, the others stare in shock. 

Cricket, Masira, and Shoujou were laying in heaps; unresponsive. The ship was in pieces. Cricket's home was in ruins, ransacked and empty; scattered all over the grass as if it had exploded. 

Luffy raced over to the old man, whose eyes were cinched over closed eyes, bleeding and in pain. His tanned knees were stained with the bloody-mud around the dilapidated figure.

"Pops, what happened?" He hunched over the man's form. Cricket still didn't respond. 

"Masira!" Usopp called, and again there was nothing. 

"Shoujou!" Sanji found him lying face-up in the ocean, but the monkey didn’t utter a word. 

"What the... What happened here?" Nami whispered, baffled. 

"I've got a better question, who did this?" voiced Sanji as he was dragging Shoujou's body through the water.

"Wait," Robin started, and for the first time, the crew could hear alarm in her usually unchanged voice:

"Where's (Y/n)?" 

Nobody said a word. All of them looked at Robin in dread, realizing the weight of her words. 

Immediately, everyone began to search every nook and cranny, high and low; Usopp, Nami and Chopper were calling your name, Zoro and Luffy scoured the house and its remains, Robin searched in the surrounding forest, and Sanji even dove back into the ocean in case you might've fallen in... but, you were gone.

Once they reconvened, Zoro looked uncharacteristically beside himself. 

"We checked the house... she wasn't there. Cricket's gold isn't, either." His jaw was clenched with guilt. 

"Where... Where could she have..." Nami choked out tearfully, Chopper looking just about ready to cry as well. 

"Sorry... kid." Cricket rasped from the ground, and the reindeer was at his side in an instant. The man was looking at Luffy. 

"I... I'm truly sorry, kid," He gasped before trying to sit up, despite Chopper's fussing, "We did everything we could to stop them... but it wasn't enough." 

"What happened?" Luffy, who hadn't said anything during the search for his soulmate, asks in a dull tone. 

It's the same dull tone that the crew doesn't hear him use very often; it was like a switch must’ve gone off. 

"She's... She's gone. They took her." 

Nami covered her mouth to stop any noise from coming out, while Usopp and Chopper sniffled. Zoro turned and walked silently back towards Cricket's home. 

Luffy was quiet. Too quiet. He stood stock still and stared at Cricket with a look he couldn't decipher. Not one that blamed him for what happened, no. But it was a look that made his hair stand on edge, despite his seasoned age. 

It was a serious look; a dangerous one. 

"Hey, Luffy..." Zoro beckoned, and the boy turned slowly. 

Scrawled on the boards, the ones that served as a false-overlay to Crickets home, was the familiar mark of a jolly-roger: A smiling face with a slash in the middle. 

Nami recognized it, too. 

"That's Bellamy's..." She trails off with a gasp, before her face morphs into a snarl and she wipes her tears away aggressively.

"I told you, didn't I?" She seethed at the two men, "I told you, you should've beat those guys to a pulp and been done with it!" 

For the first time in a while, Luffy was angry; but there was no expression on his face to show it. 

He turned to look at Robin, ignoring Nami’s rage. Though, Robin couldn't see his eyes beneath the rim of his hat, brimmed with shadow. 

"If I follow the coast, will that take me all the way back to Mocktown?" He asked in a hushed, grave voice. 

"Yes, I believe it will." She confirmed, and that's all he needed to hear before he turned in the same direction. 

"We only have three hours," Sanji urged, "You better hurry and go get your soulmate, before it’s too late." 

Luffy said nothing, but they could all hear the bones in his hands popping as he sprinted away. 

---

It's been hours, and there was still no sign of anyone. 

I was starting to lose hope, forced into being cooped up with the drunken barbarians who had just beaten the tar out of my friends. And there wasn’t an escape in sight. We only had so much time before the crew would have to leave to catch the knock up stream in order to make it to sky island... Would they leave me here? Like they did when they went hunting for the South bird? 

No. Luffy would never. He might not pay much attention to me, but we were still soulmates. He wouldn't just leave me, and if not him, then Nami definitely wouldn’t... 

Right?

"Those apes were hilarious!" Giggled Sarquiss from beside me, "All bloody, with tears and snot running down their faces!" 

He flung an arm over my shoulder, leaning in close where I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Gagging, I squirmed away and out from under his arm, but bumped into another one of Bellamy's crew in the process. He grunted, irritated, before shoving me back to Sarquiss. 

My lungs clenched desperately in my chest for air, shrinking in my seat as if it would make me invisible. It was way too crowded, surrounded by a bunch of rugged thieves and murderers, I had learned from their stories. 

At least I was still on the same island.

My hands shook beneath the table. 

"Oh, come on babe," He went to do it again, and I dodged, "Wasn't that the funniest thing you've ever seen?" 

A chorus of agreements and whistling popped up around the table, all of them directed at me and attempting to coax me into a conversation, eyes shining in a hungry way that made my skin crawl. 

I couldn’t believe that they were laughing at the fact that they had probably beaten my friends to death; and now they wanted me to join in on the ‘fun.’ 

Another man went to grab at my waist, and I shimmied away; finally having enough and standing up, despite the glare I received from Sarquiss. 

"G-Get off of me!” I yelped apprehensively.

“I already told you, I have a soulmate!" I tried to put my foot down time-and-time again with this same statement, but none of them would bother to listen. 

"Yeah, okay, babe. Heard it so many times before," The drunken random from the crew tugged me back down, gripping hard at the soulmate mark as I winced. 

"And this is your ‘mark.’ Yeah, right-- Huh?" He was bewildered to have actually seen the mark on my arm for the first time that night, since nobody other than him had bothered to check if I was telling the truth. I honestly doubted that they would care, either way. 

"You're soulmates with that Luffy kid?" I yanked my arm back to myself, clutching at the mark like it was my anchor in this troubling situation.

"Yes, I am.” I tried to retaliate confidently, despite the waiver in my voice, “So leave me alone already, you--" 

"Bad news!" A man with a tall hat and scruffy face came barging into the room, effectively silencing everyone in the vicinity. Even the music stopped.

"This better be good..." Somebody from the table closest to me muttered. 

"Those guys-- The ones that were here this afternoon, they--" He slurred, before finding the person in the room that he was looking for, then gasping. 

"Bellamy! What are you still doin' here?! You... You've gotta' get outta' here, you're in terrible danger!" 

"What are you talking about? How am I in danger?" Bellamy scoffed with a frown, the veins in his forehead popping out of aggravation. 

"That-- That kid, from earlier, he's--" He groaned, seemingly unable to form the proper words, before decidedly fishing out a piece of paper and unfurling it to show the room. 

It was a wanted poster with Luffy's smiling face plastered on it; as well as Zoro's. As soon as he showed them, a few of the crewmates stopped muttering, and a few more dropped their tankards to the floor; some of which shattered. 

Everyone in the room seemed stun-locked. 

I didn't understand what was so important about it; after all, I knew that Luffy had a bounty, but it was only thirty million. The crew had told me a while back that it wasn't a very high amount for a well-known pirate, so what was their deal all of a sudden? 

"One hundred million?" Somebody whispered. 

"Sixty million?" Others added. 

Oh. I guess I missed the fact that their bounties had been raised. 

"Those two together are worth one-hundred-and-sixty-million! Their bounties are higher than yours, Bellamy. Do you know what that means?" He gasped, out of air and gaping like a fish. 

"You're dead meat!" 

So, it was a big number; And a deserving one, since Luffy had defeated one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. He was, I assumed, a strong pirate.  

But, still… After seeing Bellamy completely dismantle the ship and knock-out the trio, I was nervous. Even if Luffy had that high of a bounty now, would he be able to defeat Bellamy? How high was Bellamy’s bounty?

Now I was wondering if I even wanted him to rescue me; Not if it meant he was going to be hurt in the process. I didn’t want to see him lying on the ground like Cricket was. 

This was all becoming very overwhelming very fast. 

Bellamy's crew begins to panic, all squandering reasons to leave, shouting at each other in disagreement on whether or not Bellamy could take on Luffy. With their booze forgotten and chairs pushed back, I try my best to move toward the door in the commotion. 

If I could leave on my own, then nobody would have to get hurt. 

"Hey, hey, hey! All it takes to scare you ‘big tough guys’ are some little scraps of paper!" Bellamy cackles, and everybody shuts up. 

"What, do you all have empty sockets for eyes? You saw that scrawny leader! This is nothing but a sham.” The men looked unconvinced. I kept moving. 

“I'll explain it to you morons. There are pirates like these losers who fake their own wanted posters to make a name for themselves. The fakers win fights without throwing a single punch... Their enemies would take one look at their bogus bounties, turn tail, and run. Just like you sorry excuses are doing right now!" He lifts his hand up, waving it around to exaggerate certain parts of his explanation. 

"B-But, Bellamy, are you sure...?" The same man holding the posters speaks up once again, and Bellamy rolls his eyes in disappointment. 

"Fine. Why don't I show you how weak that brat really is?" He grunts, coming to a stand, before beginning to march over in my direction; I had made it halfway to the door at this point, but now I was frozen. 

"After all," He gives me a maniacal grin, looking down at me with wide eyes as he stops in front of me, and I wonder if he can hear my heart thumping in my chest;

"We have his soulmate right here, don't we?" 

His hand comes up and latches itself to the hair on my scalp, before continuing on his way to the saloon doors. 

My scalp is on fire as he wrenches me along, and I let out a cry. Then, using the same hand, he jerks his arm harshly; throwing me through the doors. 

A few of the crew, still inside, laugh at the sight as I roll down the stairs. Landing roughly on my stomach, I cough against the dusty ground, whining at the feeling of the bruises forming on my skin. 

As I'm pushing myself to my knees, arms wobbling, I hear the doors open behind me. Bellamy's boot-clad feet are stomping ever-closer, and my pulse races.

I whip around to look at him, not wanting to be grabbed or tossed again. Instead, I see the barrel of a gun in my face. 

My blood freezes in my veins. 

Staring down the cylinder, my heartbeat’s in my ears, looking in the face of death. 

My face must’ve gone pale. He sniggers from behind the gun. 

"Let's see what he's going to do if she's in danger, huh?" He taunts, pushing the barrel right to my forehead where I flinch, and clench my eyes in terror. 

The tears come then, fueled by the heightened feeling of the metal pressing harshly, combined with the sound of the pistol being cocked; reverberating through the object and into my skull. They spill down my face, and I bite my lip as it trembles. 

"Awe, you're just as pathetic as that soulmate of yours, aren't you!" He roars with laughter, and I grow stiff from every movement. My eyes peek open, vision blurred, but still able to make out his finger on the trigger. 

"Go on," He nods his head once, once he sees me open my eyes, "Call him."

The sob forces its way out of my throat as I close my eyes again, shaking. 

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. 

"Call him." Bellamy says with less patience, tone tinged with the darkness of a man who had killed once before, and who would do it again; 

"So that we can see what lover-boy will do, yeah?" 

No.

I had only just got here, only just found Luffy; and now I was going to die.

Was this some sort of cruel fate? 

“I’m running out of patience, you brat–” 

"I'm right here." 

My eyes snap open, and the gun is forgotten in an instant, left as a forethought in momentary shock. 

I turn my head to look, and I think I might melt into the boards below when I see him. 

The first thing I notice is his hat; it's hanging from his neck, not on his head like it always is. His hair is whipping wildly in the wind, untamed.

The second thing I notice is the look on his face. He's frowning, brows creased over a determined gaze that doesn't leave mine. It registers; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at me like this before. 

He completely ignores the black tendrils that brush over his sight. There's an intensity in the way he's looking at me. Tiny, rapid movements of his pupils tell me he's scanning my own face, searching for something; it seems desperate, concerned. 

It's relieving. It's comforting. 

I bite my lip, not bothering to mask the sob that comes out of my throat as we stare at each other. He had come to save me.

“Luffy–” Bellamy hoists me up by my collar, cutting me off and pushing me into another crew member behind him, who grabs me in response. I hadn’t noticed that the others had begun to make their way outside, now.  

Luffy's stare hardens into a glare when Bellamy is placed in his line of sight, all sense of care gone. 

"Give 'em back," He grunts out, "My soulmate and Pop's gold. I want 'em both." 

"Finally!" Bellamy jeers, crouching into a stance similar to the one I had seen during the fight from earlier, and alarm bells go off. Luffy can’t end up the same. I writhe in the man's grip, and he jostles me to stand still as I whine softly, hiccuping. 

"You want 'em? Come and get 'em, kid!" Despite his words, he moves first. 

"Don't worry, this won't take long," And he pounces, "Spring Sniper!" 

The memory of blood bursting from Crickets lips flashes in my mind, Bellamy's fist connecting with his cheek; and I picture Luffy in his spot. 

The breath leaves my chest in relief as Luffy dodges, jumping up and managing to land on the roof of a house nearby. He stumbles as he does. 

Bellamy doesn't let it slide. 

"You got lucky!" The older of the two grits out, before pursuing the younger a second time. 

The boy dodges narrowly this time, flipping over the siding and gripping at the roof's edge. His arms stretch for a moment, naturally bobbing his body up and down due to his rubber qualities, but he looks okay. 

"Does that kid actually think he has a chance here?" Sarquiss laughs from somewhere next to me. I don't care enough to look at him, eyes locked on my soulmate as he hangs precariously from a rooftop. 

"If nothing else, this should be entertaining. Bellamy always puts on a good show." Another man with blonde hair and glasses states, one of Bellamy’s lackeys. 

"He talked all big, but now he's just running away!" 

The two are at a standstill on top of their respective buildings, now. Luffy effortlessly pulled himself back into a better position, almost like hanging from the building didn't even put a dent in his stamina. In fact, he didn't look tired at all. 

Bellamy shouts something indiscernible at him, looking smug, before shooting toward him a third time. 

He misses once more as Luffy scarcely avoids the attack, but this time he falls. 

Watching how languidly he falls, arms flailing in the air, I wonder if maybe he actually did get hit. My chest constricts, breath caught in my throat.  

"You're nothing but a little boy who still believes in dreams! You disgrace the rest of us by calling yourself a pirate. It's time to stop this foolish dreaming and grow up!" Bellamy is getting more and more frustrated, likely due to Luffy’s evasion. It's listless in his form as he comes to a crouch near the crowd.

Luffy still says nothing, he doesn't make a peep even as he keeps falling. 

Was he knocked out? Was he okay?

"Now, let's end this!" Bellamy roars as he fires himself once more at Luffy, this time hitting his target. 

He nails him, and Luffy lets out a surprised yelp, not expecting the attack in midair. I listen to his uneven scream as he spins his way down to the ground; aimed directly at the crowd in front of the tavern. 

The onlookers flee as he collides with an explosion of dust. 

His scream cuts short, and I can feel the sudden spreading of pain across my back and shoulders. I scan desperately over the rubble with piercing eyes, trying to blink away the tears so I can see better. 

Just barely, beneath the cloud of dust, I can make out the bright-red of his vest. He’s not showing any signs of moving.

"Luffy!" I screech. The man from behind gives a harsh 'shut up,' clasping a hand over my mouth as Bellamy begins another speech. 

"See? There's no escape!" He exclaims from the top of another building. 

"I've eaten a devil fruit, so you don't stand a chance against me!" 

I stop, the topic of devil fruits triggering a realization. I trace back through the entirety of the fight in my mind, just to make sure I wasn’t crazy; but I knew I was right. 

But why?

This whole time, Luffy hadn't bothered to make a move on Bellamy. 

In fact, he had spent the whole time dodging when he otherwise would have been fighting; just like he did with all the marines we ran into. Luffy had his devil fruit too, so why wasn't he using it?

Something was off. 

"Looks like your dreams are at an end." Bellamy smiles wickedly from his lofty position. 

The dust clears, showcasing Luffy's body submerged in a mess of broken-wooden-planks, crumpled and hunched. But, I’m not crying anymore. There’s something weird; whatever the feeling is, it’s assuring me that he’s fine.

Then, as soon as they stop jeering, Luffy begins to move. He pushes to his feet without much of a struggle, and I watch, unblinking, as he barely seems affected. 

There isn't a hint of discomfort in his posture, standing straight and staring dead at Bellamy; unwavering, even as Bellamy mocks him from the tower in the night sky. 

Luffy... wasn't hurt. 

"You don't know when to quit, do you? Fine, have it your way, we're just getting to the good part!" Bellamy bends down at his knees again. But this time, as he releases the tension in his legs, he doesn't stop at one spot. 

He springs from the floor, to the side of a building, to another one, and then back to the floor again. It's not a strict pattern, though. He’s mixing it up, and increasing speed as he does it. 

It's a mesh of high-pitched noise as he bounces from one place to another. Soon, he becomes almost impossible to see. 

If Luffy got hit by that, then he--

"So, you want your soulmate back? You think you're man enough to keep a woman happy, even though you're busy chasing dreams like a child?!" Bellamy shouts. 

"And you want the gold back because the old-man's your friend? Wake up! He's nothing but a decrepit fool who spends all his time chasing after a four-hundred year old lie. But that's probably what you like about him, right?" Luffy's face begins to morph into one of aggravation, the look grows with each of Bellamy's harsh words. I can only watch in trepidation. 

"You like to call yourselves pirates, but you know nothing! There's no 'city of gold,' no island in the sky; just oceans and ships and the men who sail them!" 

"You asked if I know how to throw a punch." The boy with the straw hat finally speaks up, after not saying a word the entire fight. 

He lifts an arm at his side, the muscles tense as he flexes his fingers. Here, in the dim night-light of the tavern reflecting off of his tanned skin, his usually-skinny arms show definition. Faintly, I hear the popping of bones, and I wonder if it's his knuckles cracking. 

Bellamy's crewmates cheer and holler for him to finish the fight, for him to do away with Luffy and 'get it over with.' 

All my fear dissipates. 

Maybe it's the look on his face, or the confidence in his pose; or maybe it's the anger and the resolution I can feel reverberate within me, even though it's not my own...

Whatever it was, I knew he was going to win. 

"So long, Straw Hat!" Bellamy chants, practically a missile that's focused straight at Luffy’s torso.  

Luffy's dark eyes lock-on, his pupils dilate, and the yellow of the lamp light shines in their center; a target of his own. 

With a bellowing cry of anger, Luffy slams his fist directly onto Bellamy's face. 

The sound is like a gun-shot, echoing over Mocktown. 

It's followed shortly after by the creak-and-snap of the wood as Bellamy's body creates a man-sized crater, his legs flailing up behind him.

The blonde captain coughs up blood, a fist imprinted on his cheek, before he lies still. 

Nobody moves. 

The wind brushes softly overhead. 

Luffy had beaten Bellamy. 

He reaches behind him for his hat, knuckles dripping with blood, before placing it on his head. I wondered if it was his blood, or if it was Bellamy’s. 

"H-Hey," Sarquiss stutters, "Quit messing around Bellamy. G-Get up, already." 

The Captain doesn't move. Everyone around begins to murmur, perplexed. 

"S-See!" The drunk from before urges, now panicking even more, "I told you so!" 

Luffy finally turns from glaring at Bellamy's unconscious form, gaze directing every ounce of its fury in my direction; and it’s targeting the man behind me, still holding me captive. 

I can feel his hands tremble and loosen, an iron grip turned to feathers. With a pitiful whimper, he removes his hand from over my lips, and backs away. 

I stand there like a statue, though, not sure what to think. Even as Luffy takes a step toward me, and I hear the majority of Bellamy's crew turn-tail and run, I still don't move. 

There were a lot of things I still didn't know about this place. But I knew some things. I knew about The One Piece, I knew about Devil-fruits, and I knew that Luffy and the crew were strong…

But, to knock out a man in one punch? A punch with enough force to cause a crater in the ground? I never imagined it, not from somebody who was as smiley and happy as he was. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, but...

Just how strong was Luffy?

Once he's made his way over, he stops, wordless. He’s still frowning.

“Hey.” He finally greets, softly, and I blink at him, puffy eyes feeling stiff after crying. His frown deepens. 

"Did they hurt you?" The question is quiet, a stark contrast from his usual demeanor, always exuberant and excited. It's strangely reassuring, in a way, to see this side of him. 

I shake my head wordlessly, knowing that whatever they might've hurt me with, he was hurt a hundred times worse. He hums, eyes catching the rope burn on my wrists, as well as the fingerprints on my arms. I move to shakily rub at the tender skin. 

"C'mon," He grabs my hand in his, our palms tightly clasped together, like he doesn’t want to let go. 

"I'll have Chopper fix you up when we get back." 

I follow after him on shaky legs as he gently pulls us in the direction of the tavern, going to look for Cricket's gold. My heart is doing backflips in my chest, pleasant shivers running down my spine at the contact; my face is definitely pink, but I’m still sniffling down leftover tears. 

It takes a bit to actually find the sack of gold that's mixed within the mess of booze bottles and food, but when we do, Luffy has helped himself to at least five of the non-empty plates on each of the tables. He's finally looking more like his usual self, grinning in triumph when we finally find what we're looking for. He only lets go of my hand for a moment as he slings the hefty weight over his shoulders, before snatching it up again and moving towards the door. 

"That wasn't too hard to find!" He giggles as we leave the tavern, and turns to look at me, "Let's go back to the ship!" 

"Okay." The word is soft as I nod, and I've found myself able to speak again, glancing at intertwined hands with a buzz in my head.  

The shock must've worn off, but when we pass by the traces of Bellamy’s crew, I still cower and attempt to use Luffy's body as a shield; They're all huddled over his body, still in disbelief. I didn’t want to attract any more of their attention than I already had that night. 

"Hey, you, come back here! We won't be beaten by some pretend pirates!" I flinch at Sarquiss's high-pitched shout, stepping closer to Luffy, who doesn't seem bothered; flicking his eyes over to my own and smiling wider. 

"You hear me, you stupid runt! I'm talking to you!" Luffy continues to march along happily, and I try to look forward and do the same, despite the angry aura emanating from behind us. 

"I'll show you a real punch, where are you going?!" Finally, Luffy stops, and the emotions drop from his face, so I can't tell what he's thinking. 

"Where am I going?" He gruffs, raising the same blood-soaked fist as before.

There's a fleeting moment where I think he's actually going to punch the sore-loser, and Sarquiss thinks the same as he falls over in terror. Then, he points a single finger upwards. 

"The sky." He says simply, and I feel my shoulders slouch in relief. I'd had enough fighting for today. 

“How far is the–” I stumble when Luffy pulls me to his front, suddenly. Before I know what’s happening, he's bent down and looped his arms beneath my back and knees, scooped up in a bridal-carry that makes me feel weightless. 

All the blood in my body rushes to my face as I clutch at his vest with a hand, my head going fuzzy. 

"U-Um, uh-- Luffy, I-I can walk, you don't have to--" I squeak out, and he laughs, adjusting me for a better holding position. 

"It's fine, don't wanna' lose you again anyways," He chuckles, and I look at him in disbelief.

"Why are you so worried? I like holdin' you." I pause, giving him a vacant stare as the words register. His chest bubbles with laughter, cackling at the look on my face. 

I like holdin' you. It echoes in my head like a mantra. 

"Oh. O-Okay." He makes it hard to argue with his fingers grazing over my skin like that; he was surprisingly gentle. 

"Alright, let's go!" He shouts with glee, before racing off toward the coast line. 

"We gotta' get back to the ship soon, or else we won't make it to sky island!" I nod to his delighted words, but he probably can't see me as I wrap my arms around his shoulders for stability; practically being tossed around as we traversed the rugged edge of the forest. 

The sun begins to peak above the ocean as he reaches a full-on sprint. 

---

About twenty minutes pass, before the excited boy begins to ramble about their adventure in the woods while they were trying to catch the bird, since I ‘missed out and he felt bad.’ 

"Me and Chopper were chased by all these weird bugs– and I even caught an Atlas Beetle! I can't wait to get back and add him to my collection." We leap over a few rocks and I hold on tight when he lands in a crouched position with an 'oof,’ before cackling happily, despite nearly dropping me. 

I blink as I notice something flit by in the darkness, still clutching at his collar. 

"Like that one?" I point at the insect as it lands on a nearby tree, and he screeches to a halt, gasping loudly. 

"No way," His eyes shine, "That's a Hercules Beetle! I can't believe you found one, we gotta catch it! Right now!" 

"But, what about the knock-up--"

"Don’t worry, it'll be quick!" 

[inu-jiru]

For the ask game!

13. I saw your art on the goetia sometimes doing adverts for products in your rewrite. Do you have ideas for what other sins are advertising? It is a really neat idea! :0c

Ahhh! Great question! For "H U N G E R", I imagine the Sins have their own products to sell, as well as any collaborative projects they might do since a lot of sin tends to overlap:

For Pride, I don't see Lucifer really selling anything unless it's based off him in some way (i.e. a film adaptation of his various deeds). I seem him more as a straight up propaganda guy who'll just plaster his image everywhere to make sure everyone knows he's in charge (and it irritates him greatly when they're destroyed, but that's a different discussion entirely ;3). Lucifer's already paid a large amount in taxes from everyone (Goetias and Sins included), so money isn't his main concern.

Satan typically collabs with Belphegor to advertise steroids and I also see him hosting Hell's version of WWE (except a lot more violent). I do plan on keeping some of the wild west/ranch elements from canon, and Hellborn who own land can advertise their goods if they can afford it.

Beelzebub advertises various food items, but mainly pushes her own line of honey which is dangerously addictive (eating it can send a demon spiraling into a gluttonous frenzy). She also has her own food channel where some members of the Goetia (like Queen Felicity) host their own cooking shows (she'll regularly make demands on what kind of food they produce since it's all food porn to her, so if one day she wants to see some poor imp butchered and made into a roast, it has to happen). As much as I didn't care for "Queen Bee", I did think the idea of pop music and parties fit Gluttony in a sense that, yeah, people splurge when they're partying, so she'd have a hand in pushing Hell's music industry as well.

Mammon handles much of Hell's manufacturing, so anything from clothes, jewelry, theme parks and anything else he can make a buck on, he'll advertise (mainly to the other Goetia since most Hellborn can't afford the good stuff). He's not above the idea of "sex sells", so I tried to implement that in the art piece I did. A story in the series I hope to get to at one point relates to his and Leviathan's collaboration in bringing cruise ships to Envy's ocean, so that'll be fun to write more about.

Lust, of course, manages the porn industry and everything involved with that. Collaborations would include aphrodisiac-based foods with Beelzebub as well as some darker projects that I'd rather not outright state here, but involve Belphegor (you can probably piece it together; this series won't shy away from dark topics, but I wanna give fair warning before I go into detail). Ironically enough, Asmodeus doesn't advertise contraceptives all that much, but I imagine he'd want pregnancy and disease to spread like crazy.

Envy tends to overlap with Greed when it comes to goods, but I can't see Leviathan advertising very much. He's the most animalistic out of the Sins and prefers the primal fear and chaos he gets out of his demons rather than material gain. He only really bothers to do it because he can't stand the other Sins having things that he doesn't.

Finally, Sloth is the mass producer of drugs of all kinds, uppers, downers, the works. Belphegor also endorses spas and resorts (for those who can afford it, of course). She doesn't advertise much, and that suits her fine since it's less work to deal with.

I'm sorry if this answer was super rambly aaaa I was just really excited to answer! ^^ Hopefully, it's an interesting read!

[astroadonis]

A doodle page inspired by @jabberwockprince 's idea (and a few other's amazing additions to it) about the hanahaki disease in the setting of nsr characters.

I would recommend taking my little addition with a grain of salt, because I am pretty sure there might be some "plot holes" in it, as I find this topic rather tricky. Also a lot of this will be heavily relying on my personal headcanons, so it might not seem logical to everybody.

I was curious to explore Novas case, because I haven't seen anyone mention him just yet. (If I'm mistaken, then I am very sorry!!)

I chose a flower called Blue Star, the reason for it is probably pretty obvious. It has a few different meanings attached to it:

The first being how it is associated with perseverance, strength and determination, which can be seen in Novas character. I think these qualities are something like a base for his arrogance and self admiration, in a way.

And the second being how it is a symbol of reaching for something unreachable, impossible. This also led me to think that it would fit DJ nicely, knowing his grandiose goal of becoming "the avatar".

Now, when it comes to the theme of repressed feelings, I'd like to think about the sense of loneliness, disappointment in oneself and...perhaps a pinch of anxiety??

I was thinking about how Nova's confidence and narcissism would lead to him not having a lot of "friends", to put it simply. He would distance himself from everyone, as no one is able to meet his standards. Also, he might not want to make any acquaintances in general, thinking its not important in the grand scheme of things. It might sound odd, but putting it into context makes me think of this fact differently. After the revolution his satellite is destroyed. The project that was supposed to make his goal come true is now gone for such a stupid reason. I'm guessing it would make him *somewhat* upset, now that he has to start from scratch. Would there be anyone to help him get over that loss, as well as probable disappointment in himself and his creation, which proved itself to be unreliable? Not really.

He would have to keep all the anger and stress to himself, which would make him even more distant from others, now that he's easy to irritate. That would be the moment when he would start noticing that something strange is going on.

As for a little explanation for some of the doodles:

The one with the headphones comes from an idea that he would try listening to his own music as a distraction. It would work until the flowers would start growing right out of his headphones, making it hard to listen.

Also, he doesn't have a throat nor a moth, so I decided that the flowers would first appear out of the hole thing where his neck should be. And as things get more and more serious, his orb would start cracking, revealing the blue flowers from the depths of his cosmos insides.

Now, I really REALLY hope that I got the whole idea right, please feel free to correct me in case I got it all wrong!! It would mean a whole lot!!

[jerzwriter]

Ok ok, I'm loving the Grey's Anatomy bashing. 😂

Your top 5 of worst storylines/moments.

And top 5 of worst characters.

OK - some disclaimers:

I've only seen up to season 12, episode? when Jackson and April stupidly slept together again. So my knowledge is based on this and a handful of future episodes I've seen. [I'm quite confident some of the stuff in the future is even worse.]

This is subject to change. Not gonna lie. I dislike A LOT of characters and A LOT of plots, so this could change with my mood or if the pizza I'm having for dinner gives me heartburn.

I want to change "WORST" to "MY LEAST FAVORITE." Why? Because this is my opinion. The people and plots I'm going to mention maybe some people's favorites, and that's their right. I'm not the all-knowing-anything, so just because it's my opinion, and you know what they say about opinions... Telling you in advance many will not like my answers.

My Five Least Liked Characters In no particular order.

Callie Torres. I wanted to like Callie. I did. She's Latina, she's bisexual, and she's not the conventional body type hyped on TV shows. There were so many reasons I wanted to like her. But I could not. She is also whiny, self-centered, and acts like a freaking 2-year-old. Some scenes make my cringes cringe. I almost feel guilty typing this out because now that I do, I realize that describes 90% of the characters on Grey's, but Callie did it really well. To add insult to injury, she was the main focus of that "musical" episode which had me contemplating checking myself in for a psych observation for even watching it. This leads me to...

Arizona Robbins. See above about whiny, self-centered, and acting like a two-year-old. But add to it consistently cheating on the person she's supposed to love. Babe, if you can't stay faithful, find someone willing to be poly. Maybe you'd be nicer that way? Who knows. Now, if not for "Calzona," these two may not have made my top 5. But their relationship was so horribly toxic that it made me dislike them as individuals even more. Sorry. Not sorry.

Owen Hunt. First of all, if you fuck with Christina Yang, you fuck with me. Second, see above about whiny, self-centered, and acting like a two-year-old, but let's add being an absolutely dreadful partner to the list. The way he treated Christina at times just left me slack-jawed (and screaming WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO CHRISTINA! SHE SHOULD KICK HIM IN THE NUTS AND RUN!!!!) I have heard/read that some of his future relationships don't fare much better. Also, and y'all know I'm not a Japril fan, but something about the sanctimonious way he stood there waiting for April when she was saying goodbye to Jackson just made me want to knock him out. Dr. Avery is to be credited for not doing just that.

(God, I can only name 5? I have so many more I want to name!)

April Kepner. I almost went with Amelia Shepherd (I really don't like her either), but I know April better at this point, so I'm going with her. Disclaimer. I'm agnostic. I will also fight for someone to be able to practice whatever faith they wish (SO LONG AS THEY DON'T PUSH THEIR FUCKING BELIEFS ON EVERYONE ELSE... which seems to be an issue... but I digress). I wouldn't say April pushes her beliefs on others, and I respect that, honestly. But every time she talked about "Jesus being sad" because she got railed by one Dr. Avery, I wanted to toss my television out the window. Bitch, God SENT that to you. Take it and give thanks daily, OK? And if not. STOP. Here's where Jackson drove me nuts. Babe, you could have had anyone, and you kept going back to the one who made you feel like you were a dirty disease. STOP. I think one of the BEST lines I ever saw on Grey's was yesterday when she was saying, "God didn't want her and Jackson divorced," and Dr. Riggs pointed out all the horror in this world and said, "I think God has bigger worries than you getting divorced." THANK YOU. BUT...... I might have let this all go. After all, this is a show that thrives on terrible characters, so I could have let it go... but she was pretty dreadful. See above about whiny, self-centered, and acting like a two-year-old, but make that a pious two-year-old. She treated Jackson HORRIBLY (Not me applauding when he asked for a divorce), but of course, she played the victim after that. And not telling him she was expecting Harriet. Unforgivable and not very Christian. So, April makes the top 5.

ONE MORE! THAT IS NOT FAIR!!!!

I have a love-hate relationship with Alex Karev, depending on what Alex Karev we're talking about because character consistency is not a strong suit on this show. I dislike Mark Sloan because I think he was a total pig, but he was entertaining, so there was that. There are tons of smaller characters that I really couldn't stand (I didn't like Reed and Charles, for example, and while I wouldn't wish anyone their death, not even on TV, I honestly was like, "OK so they're off the show then? cool). But... GOD, I really have to pick ONE more. OK, here goes (you're gonna hate me, but...)

Meredith Grey. See above about whiny, self-centered, and acting like a two-year-old. She also had the PB MC syndrome, which is, somehow, we were supposed to believe everything she did was perfect, that she was perfect, and god, she was not. Now, is she my least favorite? No. But I think the fact that the character is supposed to be so beloved and so wonderful, and she was so not, chapped my bum even more.

God, there are so many others that I want to mention, but I'm going to let them go (because I'm Elsa).

After this diatribe... do you REALLY want me to do plots too?

Tagging @icecoffee90 because I need to know what you think of my replies.

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

SOMEONE:

if you refuse to have disabled people in your setting, that does make you fucking ableist. If you say that the magic is used to cure all disabled people and that's why they don't exist, that's fucking eugenics.

Hm lets see

Eugenics is a set of beliefs and practices that aim to improve the genetic quality of a human population. Historically, eugenicists have attempted to alter human gene pools by excluding people and groups judged to be inferior or promoting those judged to be superior.

SOURCE

So it is only eugenics if disabled people in that FANTASY setting are forced to undergo magical treatment or magical fetuses are magically removed without input of the pregnant person.

(Same as aborting a disabled fetus is not eugenics if the pregnant person in question makes he decision without outside pressure … sorry I know some people thought that was a sneaky way to get abortions banned in the EU but no such luck … )

It is a story.

The writer can decide that everyone chooses to not be disabled

I mean … I personally would never allow a surgeon to put a knife to my eyes, but in a magical setting? Without scars, without infection, without pain, without mistakes?

Hell yeah 20/20 vision here I come!

I always wanted to know what the world looks like in 3D (I have a lazy eye and no depth perception … )

Look.

I love Toph, I love Gordy and Data and Bucky and all the others.

I need them in my live

* makes a „call me“ gesture at Bucky *

And there is definitely not enough representation of us in the media.

But same as not every movie has to pass the Bechdel test (though about 50% should)

or not every movie has to pass the Ali Nahdee test

(though about 1.5% should – ruffly 3% of the U.S. population is a native American, so 3 % of movies should feature them as more then a side character, half of them are under the general umbrella of women, so half of the 3% should pass the test – )

There is room for Fantasy and science fiction settings without disability …

Where everyone can enjoy music (no dyslexia) can pet cats (no allergies) or be friends with people that have cats (fucking allergies!) or enjoy all the food and drink there is (did I mention the fucking allergies?!) where there is no chronic pain … no chronic exhaustion (hate!) … where abusers might get to skip out of your live, but at least you don‘t have to waste years OF YOUR LIVE at therapy in the vague hope that the PTSD might get better … you can just snap your fingers and get on with your day … isn‘t that lovely? No more fucked up hpa axis … no more fucked up cortisol response …

Where never again a family has to watch their infant die of Tay-Sachs disease because you can snap your finger and the Babies body is now able to produce sufficient functioning Hexosaminidase A …

I need and want representation and good representation at that.

but sometimes I want wish fulfillment … need wish fulfillment … and NO ONE Gets to tell me that I can‘t have that!

The disabled community is not a monolith

Put another way: "They can cure us?" asks the autistic person who struggles to think clearly, can't form full sentences, is overstimulated at the drop of a hat and misses out on a lot of things they'd otherwise like to do because for them, autism is literally crippling. "No, because there's nothing wrong with us," I say, as a person with autism who has a job, car, excellent communication and coping skills and a relatively normal life, because for me, autism is a thing I've adapted to and worked around. (And yes, autistic people in the first category do exist. I've encountered a few right here on Tumblr and seen more than one say "don't forget us in your autism activism because we aren't 'just a little different,' this is a genuine problem for us.")

Some of us want to see us represented as we are or with the equivalent of a magical wheelchair

Some of us want the wish fulfillment of no disabilities

Some of us want it all

And we all have the right to have our story needs fulfilled

Not by every product, but by enough to give us options.

GOOD OPTIONS!

So go on my lovelies <3 write settings with and without disability

Just maybe come up with a better explanation then: "magic removes all disabled fetuses …"

Especially since I once read that the majority of disabilities are the result of accidents, illnesses or are due to faulty genes and will maybe or maybe not start presenting later in live …

So just aborting disabled fetuses will not create a world without disabled people.

[homoose]

Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’  for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

[miraculous-sunflower]

science teachers ARE cool

Mrs. Mendeleiev’s POV

Beatrice Mendeleiev sighed. She did not like the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was expelled without proof, and that Lila’s parents did not come when she was supposedly pushed down the stairs. She tried to get Mr. Damocles, another fool, to look at the security cameras during Miss Dupain-Cheng’s expulsion, but he denied, saying that if she wouldn’t stop badgering him, he would fire her. She reluctantly obliged, though secretly thinking that the school didn’t even have cameras, because of course the principal used the funds from the mayor to buy his foolish “hero costume”. Ms. Mendeleiev kinda liked Marinette Dupain-Cheng, even if she came into science class late every time. She was a good student, getting straight A’s, and her family made the best pastries in Paris, though she knew pastries weren’t even relevant in this incident. She knew she had to help out Miss Dupain-Cheng. Even if she got fired from her job, it was okay. She didn’t like her job very much, as everyone here was a fool, and she could find another job somewhere else, but it was her job, as a teacher, to protect her students. _______________________________________________________________________

Ms. Mendeleiev scoured the internet, trying to find the Italian Embassy’s number. She heard Lie-la -oops i mean Lila- talking about how her mother was a diplomat, so she had to get in contact with her to tell her all about her daughter’s antics - if she knew. She finally found the number, and dialed.

“Hello, what can I help you with?” the person on the other line asked. “Hello, I’m Beactrice Mendeleiev, and I’m trying to get in touch with Lucia Rossi?” Ms. Mendeleiev questioned.

“Actually, I’m Lucia Rossi. I’m the secretary of the Italian Embassy. What do you need?” Heh, another thing Lila was lying about. Her mother was the secretary. Still must be hard work.

“I’m actually your daughter Lila’s science teacher, and I was wondering about all of Lila’s absences and missing assignments. I questioned her about it, and she said she couldn’t do her assignments because of her arthritis and many other disabilities she has.” Ms. Mendeleiev stayed up all night, trying to come up with the perfect story to seem like she was calling for something besides exposing Lila.

“Arthritis? Disabilities? Lila doesn’t have any disabilities? And absences? Are you sure she said that?” Mrs. Rossi was very surprised. Perfect. Ms. Mendeleiev grinned.

Lucia Rossi’s POV

The other woman on the other line was too surprised. Disabilities? Lila didn't have any disabilities. She was a healthy little girl, her little bambina. Was her baby spouting lies? She doubted it. Perhaps this teacher didn’t properly hear her.

“Yes, I’m sure, and on top of all her disabilities, she said that she has a lying disease which causes her to lie, by accident. She said this one a fellow classmate of hers, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, apparently pushed her down the stairs. Marinette did no such thing, and the expulsion was reversed. If you don’t believe me, take a look on the LadyBlog. It was a blog dedicated to the Heroes of Paris, but now your daughter’s face is plastered on it. If I had a daughter, I’d never want her to be bragging about her accomplishments!”

Mrs. Rossi was shocked when she said lying disease. She looked at the “World’s Best Mom” cup on her desk. Lila gave it to her when the school apparently “shut down”. Was her little bambina lying this whole time? And blog?

“LYING DISEASE?!?! I have to call the school. What has this girl been doing? Also, I want to hear more about her absences.”

“I can help you set up an appointment with Mr. Damocles. As for her absences, Lila has been claiming that the Prince of Achu, Prince Ali, has invited you and Lila personally to visit the kingdom for 2 months. Were you not there?” Ms. Mendeleiev sounded confused. Oh dear, it sounded like she also fell for her daughter’s lies.

“ACHU? 2 MONTHS? Lila told me that the school was closed for 2 months because Ladybug and Chat Noir were too incompetent to defeat the akumas!” Mrs. Rossi exclaimed. Now here, she understood. Her daughter told her that the school was closed down, and her teachers that she was traveling, to get out of going to school! She could get in trouble for truancy for that!

“I assure you, Ladybug and Chat Noir are not incopetent. They usually take care of an akuma in less than 3 hours. “Oh, this is a lot to take in right now. I’m sorry, but Lila lied about everything. Thank you for calling me, I really appreciate it. I’ll come by the school this week.” Mrs. Rossi finally breathed out.

“I’m glad I did. Clearly, you were not informed of this, and Lila was lying about everything this whole time!” Mrs. Rossi showed a little smile, but it quickly went away. Before she hung up, she had to ask-

“Before I go, was there anything else Lila said?”

“She said that she saved Jagged Stone’s kitten off an airplane tarmac, and that she knows Clara Nightingale. She also said she’s best friends with Ladybug. Now that I think about it, she probably framed Marinette to get her expelled, now that I know she lied about having a lying disease.”

Saving kittens? Being best friends with pop stars? Best friends with a superhero? She could get sued for all the stories she’s spouted! And if these stories were heard at the embassy, she could get fired! Oh that girl...

“Oh my goodness, I will have to apologize to Miss Dupain-Cheng on behalf of my daughter. Thank you again, Ms. Mendeleiev.”

Sure enough, later that day, the mother searched up the LadyBlog, and of course, her daughter’s face was there, next to the headline, “I’m BFF’s with Ladybug’s BFF!”. She sighed. She was going to expose her daughter for the liar she is, because her daughter fooled the whole school, not to mention hurt one of her other classmates!

Mrs. Mendeleiev’s POV

After the call ended, Ms. Mendeleiev smirked. Lie-la will have no idea what’s coming to her now. __________________________________________________________________________________

Marinette’s POV

“Me and Clara Nightingale are sooo close, that we’re practically sisters! I helped her with most of her dance moves for her newest music video!” Lila bragged.

“OMG girl! That’s amazing!” Alya exclaimed.

“Wow, Lila, you have a heart of gold!” Rose and Mylene gushed.

“So awesome.” Juleka mumbled.

Marinette rolled her eyes. They were talking about Lila as if she was a saint, though they probably did. She was sketching out a new design, and it was Rena Rouge inspired. Alya, Marinette thought. Her and Alya were still friends, but they were a lot more distant. All of her friends were like that. She thought about Adrien for a second, and then quickly dismissed the thought. Adrien was irrelevant, at this point. He gave her that stupid piece of advice, take the high road, and basically got mad if she did anything to prove Lila wrote if the witch spouted another lie. Her crush on him was long gone, which gave her more time to focus on her guardian work.

Marinette continued sketching her design, but then suddenly, she heard a faint but sharp, “Miss Dupain-Cheng?” She looked over to where the voice came from. Ms. Mendeleiev was signaling her to come outside. This is it, she metally scolded herself. You came to class late too many times. She’s gonna call Maman and Papa, and tell them you’re late every day, and they will try to find out what’s up, and then they’ll figure out you're Ladybug, and then they’ll forbid you from fighting akumas, and then Hawkmoth will win, AND PARIS WILL BE DOOMED! She silently walked out of the classroom.

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng. You’re probably wondering why I called you outside, but don’t worry, you are not in trouble. This is regarding Miss Lila Rossi.” Ms. Mendeleiev said.

Marinette was shocked at first, then nervous. “Ms. Mendeleiev, I can assure you, whatever Lila said isn’t true! She lies with-”

“Every breath she takes. I know.” The science teacher cut in. “I called her mother recently, and she too had no idea about Lila’s antics. She will be coming in today to discuss with Ms. Bustier and Mr. Damocles, and I can assure you, she will be exposed for who she truly is.”

Marinette was stunned. Her science teacher knew that Lila was lying? She was sure that she was in trouble. Marinette blinked, “Wow, that’s a lot to take in, but thank you. This means a lot to me, Ms. Mendeleiev.” She was grateful for her teacher.

Mrs. Mendeleiev smiled. “I truly do not like liars either, so it was very tempting. I see that none of your other classmates or teacher has figured out she was spinning a tale this whole time, have they?”

Marinette thought for a second, and said, “There is one who knows. It’s Adrien, Adrien Agreste. He knew, but he thinks avoiding conflict makes it go away. He told me to take the high road.”

“Really? That certainly wasn’t good advice. Avoiding conflict isn’t going to make it go away. It will only cause more chaos. Anyways, I have to go, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Have a good day.” Ms. Mendeleiev concluded.

“Have a good day as well!” Marinette said. “Wait,” she started. Ms. Mendeleiev turned around and looked at her. “Ms. Mendeleiev, is there any way I can be moved into your class?”

“I’m not sure, but after this, I’m hoping that the leadership and staff at this school will improve after this incident. Now, run along, or you will be late for class.” Ms. Mendeleiev waved.

Marinette walked back to Mrs. Bustier’s room, feeling much more optimistic than she had 10 minutes ago. _______________________________________________________________________

In Ms. Bustier’s classroom, they were learning about authors of the world, and were taking turns saying who their-

“LILA ALEXANDRIA ROSSI! WHAT ARE THESE STORIES YOU’VE BEEN SPOUTING?!” A woman who looked like a much older Lila burst into the room. Marinette straight out smirked.

“Mama! It’s not what you-” Lila started.

“Not what I think? You know what I think? I think you’ve been lying to me this entire time! You’ve misplaced my trust, taking me for a fool! Saying that the schools were closed because Ladybug and Chat Noir were too incompetent to take care of them! Saying that you took a 2 month vacation at the Kingdom of Achu! Saying that you know all these pop stars! You realise I can lose my job if your stories wound up at the embassy! Non cercare di scappare via.” Her mother yelled.

Alya became mad. “What do you mean, she said Ladybug and Chat Noir are incompetent? Ladybug is Lila’s best friend!”

Lila’s face was panicked. She knew that if she spun the right tale she could weasel out...

Lucia Rossi took a breath and said, “I’m afraid my daughter has been lying to you all. Everything she said was fake. I’m sorry on her behalf. Also, may I speak to Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” A girl with dark blue pigtails and bright bluebell eyes raised her hand. “I’m so sorry, Miss Dupain Cheng. I wasn’t aware that my daughter framed you to get you expelled. I hope you are doing well.”

Marinette looked at her kindly. “Thank you for the apology, Mrs. Rossi, but please don’t feel bad. You weren’t the cause of this, and you certainly didn’t know.” Lila’s look she aimed at Marinette was murderous.

“Thank you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Lila, come on. You should be happy you aren’t sued for slander and use of name.” The mother barked out at Lila.

“No, mama! They are under a spell! They are lying! DOn’t listen to them! I never said anything about traveling to Achu, or being best friends with Ladybug!” Lila knew she could get out, of course she could.

“NO LILA! YOU ARE LYING. YOUR SCIENCE TEACHER SHOWED ME THIS BLOG, AND IT HAS ALL OF YOUR FALSE CLAIMS ON IT! DON’T EVEN TRY TO WIGGLE OUT IF THIS MESS YOU CAUSED!’ An akuma showed up, and was heading toward Mrs. Rossi.

“CoMe HeRe, little akuma!” Lila sung. She deliberately tried to grab for the akuma, only to be stopped by a particular bluenette. Marinette pushed Lila over and trapped the akuma in a jar, and placed it on a desk.

“Why am I not surprised? Of course you are working with a well-known terrorist. LILA! HOW STUPID ARE YOU?!” Her mother screamed at her.

Lila was so mad, and wanted to rip that goody-two shoes apart.”YOU!” she began at the bluenette, “You ruined everything! Everything was going so well, all these sheep believed me, and Adrien was so close to being mine! You went and ruined it!” She stomped over to Marinette, and was about to slap her, until…

Alya’s hand gripped Lila’s arm so tight, there were marks. “Because of you, my blog is ruined. What’s even worse, is that you ruined my friendship with my best friend.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you didn’t fact check. You ARE a terrible reporter.” Lila smirked, but was pulled by the arm of her mother.

They left, and Marinette’s classmates immediately surrounded her, begging her, yelling out apologies, and saying how sorry they were for not believing her. “While none of you directly hurt me, it really did hurt that none of my friends had my back,” she looked at Adrien, who looked guilty, “or even believed me! You believed a girl with crazy stories over me, your friend. It’s going to take time for me to trust you all again, but I’d like to build up our friendship again.” She finished.

“We understand, Marinette. We are so sorry!” Rose cried. “Not cool what she did…” Juleka mumbled. “Girl, I’m so sorry. I should’ve researched her claims, I’m a horrible friend and reporter,” Alya concluded sadly.

“While you didn’t research her claims, the snake is very convincing,” Marinette said. “Just remember in the future, take the word of the friend you trust the most.”

Ms. Mendeleiev smiled at the scene. She was secretly watching after she came from the principal’s office. Mr. Damocles and Ms. Bustier were fired by the school board because of their incapability to control a lying student. Mr. Damocles was also charged with a fine for using school funds for personal gain, and Ms. Bustier was lectured because of her insisting that “bullies will become better people if you let them get away with everything”. Ms. Mendeleiev was now Principal Mendeleiev, as she was promoted.

Beatrice Mendeleiev chuckled to herself. “Well, Lie-la Rossi. You didn’t get away with your tricks. No matter what, I will always protect my students. And possibly get promoted while at it.”

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, BLOOD Official Visual Fanbook Short Story: Sakamaki Ayato VS Mukami Azusa

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Official Visual Fanbook

Release date: 2013

Disclaimer: Both sides portray the same story, but from a different perspective. The first story is written from Ayato’s POV, while the second portrays the events from Azusa’s POV.

AYATO’S SIDE

ーー I have gone crazy. However, there is simply no going back at this point. I can only continue down this path of insanity, and make up my resolve.

“Oi, Chichinashi...Where do you think you’re lookin’? ...Haah...I’ve already made clear who this body belongs to many times, yet you still don’t get the message?”

I grab hold of her hair as she lies there slumped down, forcing her to look up. 

When I purposely drag out my words to remind her, she furrowed her brows in pain.

“No...It hurts...”

“It hurts, my ass! You meant to say it feels good, right? You’re one of those kinda chicks, aren’t you? ...You get off from being treated hard-handedly, no?”

While sneering at her, I tear open the collar of her shirt. 

With a popping sound, her chest is exposed. I take in the sight of her fair, smooth skin. 

Yet, almost as if she has some sort of disease, countless crimson bite marks decorate her cleavage. 

Those are proof that she is my prey, one who has been sucked dry and toyed around with plenty of times.

“Ayato-kun, stop...”

“Shut up...!”

Even though she no longer has any chance at escape, Chichinashi still insists on defying me. 

Fueled by anger, I pin her body down from behind and thrust my fangs inside the back of her nape. Her skin is soft, gladly inviting my fangs inside. 

For some reason, this only makes me even more irritated.

“Fuck...”

I curse under my breath, before digging my fangs in even deeper. When I do so, the man crouched down by Chichinashi’s feet...Mukami Azusa, lifts his face while chuckling creepily. 

“Haah...Nn...Your blood...Haah...really is sweet...”

That enraptured expression on his face sends a shiver up my spine. 

It’s almost as if he doesn’t even notice I’m here.

He only has eyes for Chichinashi. 

I repeatedly ask myself how things turned out the way they did.

“Oi! Don’t just be suckin’ her blood...without permission! Fuck off!”

“Fufu...Ayato-san...I’m sorry...But I also...”

“Shut up!”

Latching out, I kick Azusa. 

Yet, he keeps clinging to Chichinashi’s foot, refusing to let go. 

If anything, he seems happy to get kicked by me. 

Disgusting.

“Fufu...Haah...It hurts, doesn’t it? Do you...like the pain too? Of course you do...That’s why you’re...being hurt by both me and Ayato-san like this...and enjoying it.”

“You bastard...”

I instinctively answered in Chichinashi’s place. 

In response, Azusa smirked at me once more.

I flinch, feeling as if I had been caught in his trap. 

“Somehow...I kind of enjoy seeing you like that, Ayato-san...Fufu.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

In an attempt to steal her exhausted body away from him, I reel her in close by her hand. At that exact time, Azusa sunk his fangs inside the heel of her foot.

“Uu...!”

She groans.

I once again shiver at his attitude, which resembles that of a predator refusing to let go of its prey. 

Azusa seems unbothered and continues to lap up the blood flowing from her foot.

"Fuck this shit...!”

While clicking my tongue, I hold Chichinashi’s body close and pierce her shoulder with my fangs. 

If I have no other choice but to give it to Azusa, then I might as well suck her body dry down to the very last drop.

ーー END.

AZUSA’S SIDE

ーー My body moved instinctively as I wondered what I could do to make Ayato-san reveal his true feelings.

I grab hold of Eve’s small, dainty foot, sliding off her sock before wrapping my lips around one toe. 

“Nn...Nn...Haah...Delicious...It’s your taste...Haah...”

“...!”

Eve frowns in return, attempting to pull her foot away from me, but I firmly keep it in place to prevent her from doing so. 

“Oi, Chichinashi...Where do you think you’re lookin’? ...Haah...I’ve already made clear who this body belongs to many times, yet you still don’t get the message?”

I sneak a peek at her face as Ayato-san tells her that.

While listening to his words, I can’t help but let a chuckle slip. 

It seemed as if Ayato-san was alarmed I would take Eve away from him after all.

I don’t care about stealing or having someone stolen away.

Right now, equally sharing the pain amongst everyone is most important to me.

So Ayato-san should just straight-up accept that ‘pain’ and enjoy it.

While thinking that, I plunge my fangs inside her little toe.

Her feet twitches with pain in return.

As a result, her blood comes gushing out.

“Haah...Nn...Your blood...Haah...really is sweet...”

I lock eyes with Ayato-san while swirling my tongue around to lap up all the blood flowing inside my mouth.

I wonder what it feels like to share something which belongs to you?

I’m sure it must hurt a lot.

To proof my point, Ayato-seen seems horribly shaken up.

In that case, I want him to suffer even more. 

Pain equals pleasure after all...

“Oi! Don’t just be suckin’ her blood...without permission! Fuck off!”

Those words laced with anger are music to my ears.

“Fufu...Ayato-san...I’m sorry...But I also...”

Ayato-san falls for my taunt.

“Shut up!”

While shouting that, he kicks me. 

Aah, it hurts...I’m so happy...I wish he would kick me more and more. 

Therefore, I won’t let go of her foot.

“Fufu...Haah...It hurts, doesn’t it? Do you...like the pain too? Of course you do...That’s why you’re...being hurt by both me and Ayato-san like this...and enjoying it.”

And then, Ayato-san gets a taste of heartache as well. 

To me, this relationship is ideal. 

“You bastard...”

When Ayato-san says that to me with pain in his eyes, I truly cannot get enough of it. 

My actions are making him suffer. 

Overcome by happiness, I speak up while chuckling.

“Somehow...I kind of enjoy seeing you like that, Ayato-san...Fufu.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

After spitting out those words, he tries to forcefully steal her away. 

I won’t let him. I hold onto her foot, forbidding him from doing so. 

And as if to glue her in place, I dig my fangs inside her heel.

“Uu...!”

Fueled by Eve’s cries of pleasure, I thrust my fangs even deeper inside.

Deeper, I want to make her quiver in pain...from the very core.

The more I do so, the more pain Ayato-san experiences as well. 

Aah, how lovely.

While I felt happy from the bottom of my heart, I decided I would keep going and cover her foot in my bite marks. 

If I do so, then Ayato-san will surely play along with me.

ーー END.

[esyla-writes]

Chapter 9: The Love Dodecahedron from Hell

Author Commentary

This was a very dialogue-heavy chapter, but it contains the much-needed heart-to-heart conversation between Hermione and Theo to move past the whole 'you sexted my boyfriend and triggered my PTSD' thing. It was so much fun to write! (Do I say that about everything? I might just generally enjoy writing... who knew?)

Theo is obviously basically a non-entity in canon so there are a lot of fanfic interpretations of his personality. In my mind, he's very outgoing and gregarious, bold, irreverant, all those kind of words, but more as an overcompensation for a childhood spent as a wallflower and a belief that the best defense is a good offense (re: emotional vulnerability). So, that's why when he gets thrown off-course he reverts to his native state of awkwardness. Then when he and Hermione get together taking turns surprising each other with fun facts about their lives, the foot-in-mouth disease grows like an out of control fungus.

Theo would 100% buy this shirt and tease Hermione for the rest of her life about (sort of) saying "sorry that you're gay" in response to him coming out

Hermione would retaliate by wearing this shirt to remind him of that time he (sort of) equated her sexual assault with winning

As for Hermione, I think it's good for her to remember the version of herself that stood up to a smug bully (sorry, Draco) so that she doesn't become a sad shell of woman in this fic that always needs to be protected. She may feel like she took an L re: Ron but she'll recover her feisty nature.

Also, since I gave the heads up the Harry/Ginny don't get their HEA, I should give the same disclaimer for Theo/Blaise. Unrequited love sucks, but I'm not interested in writing a fic where everyone neatly pairs off. Power to you if that's your thing (lord knows I indulge in plenty of other wish fulfillment in writing), but I'm going for max angst!

Now, in today's installment of minutiae-nobody-cares-about we have Pansy's music room described in pretentious detail. In case it wasn't clear, Pansy still lives at home with her parents. I imagine that this is typical for purebloods, especially pureblood girls, to live with the parents until you get married. Pansy hates this, but she is trying really hard to salvage something of her relationship with her mom and dad. I'll get around to writing about it more later, but I bet a lot if people can relate to trying to get what you need from parents who are imperfect people.

This is a doll house, but it's what I used as a reference image for the music room

Lastly, can't forget the scene that opens the chapter with Harry, Tonks, and Fergie (who is taking real shape in my mind despite being a background character). Tonks has her hair changed to a stately grey, and I imagine she went all out on even aging her appearance overall for the occasion because she feels old and tired. She has a toddler at home, is a single widowed parent, and she's a badass auror... who wouldn't be tired? The coolest thing about being a metamorphmagus (IMHO) is that you can change all aspects of your physical appearance, not just hair color, and I think a lot of fics forget that. Anyway, I'm getting Dame Judi Dench commanding her operatives vibes.

Dame Senior Auror Tonks wants you to solve this case and catch the crooks

-------

Read on ff.net: here

Read on AO3: here

[kidney9-9]

November Bet

@hollandlover19​ asked: 

Can you write something where peter is dating the reader and she’s an avenger with similar powers to Wanda meaning she can read his mind and for the past two weeks peter has been horny as fuck and it’s driving him nuts cus he made a bet with Sam and Bucky to see who could survive the longest during no nut November so he’s trying to resist the urge to jack off but the only thing that will calm him down is y/n but she had to go on an emergency mission and won’t be back till later so he just lays in his room crying cuz everything hurts sorry if this is too specific you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to 🖤

Hey there hun! Hope you enjoy! Thank you for sending this in. Just a note: I have no idea how boners feel after a certain amount of time, but I’m assuming it’s really painful since it’s a muscle straining itself?? (i think lmao) But this was interesting to write since I usually put more humor in my writing, and this one turned out sort of sad! Everyone is over the legal age in this piece.

Masterlist is linked in my bio, tags in reblog.

Peter Parker x Reader [Angst with sort of happy ending] Warnings: boner, pain and swearing Word Count: 1.6k

Peter regretted the bet so much now. 

It happened back on the 31st of October, when everyone was resting about, eating junk food and candy. Sam and Bucky had been teasing Peter for almost two weeks now after catching you and Peter getting a bit steamy in one of the weaponry rooms, and he wanted pay back. Peter thought he could control himself for a month because obviously he was able to do it before he reached puberty, so it should be fine! But fuck, did he regret it now, making a bet with Sam and Bucky to see who could survive the longest following the No Nut November challenge.

Day one was normal, he had so much confidence. He only let himself kiss your cheek though, and glance over to you when you would dress during the morning.

But now, two weeks in, he couldn’t fucking handle it. You were too hot. Tonight, was a gala event for Pepper and Tony starting a charity for children with heart problems which would start funding research into heart disease, and funding families who couldn’t afford treatments. You were wrapped in a silky flowing dress that Peter wanted to drool over. The small peaks he’d see over you twirling around, dancing to the classical music, and the fabric would outline your ass perfectly. Fuck, it was too much for him.

He had too many thoughts about it though. He wanted to reach out and squeeze you, spank you, trace every part of your body with his tongue. He wanted to devour you tonight; he wanted to fuck you out of your mind only to bring you back to another orgasm after the last.

Yes, the boner was showing very much.

It didn’t help when you’d look over to him worriedly, and he knew you could hear every single thought of his. It was your power, but you called it a curse. You spoke to him a few days before about how you heard his pleas to make love to you once again, but you reminded him of the bet and what he would have to do if he lost.

The loser had to streak and run across the outdoor gardens of the Compound at any time the winner felt like it; only once though. Peter thought about losing constantly, wishing he could lose, but he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t let Bucky and Sam win like that, after them teasing him for so long. It would be humiliating, sure, Peter didn’t care much about that. But he cared about it humiliating you as well, he didn’t want them to tease you about it too.

“Baby, want to leave?” You mumbled to Peter, causing him to flinch out of his trance. Peter gazed down at your body for a moment, and cleared his throat, flushing immensely while he looked away. Your curves… he was so in love with everything about you.

“Mm, yeah sorry about this.” Peter signaled down to his boner and he could just imagine how some people had already saw it and started speaking about him, but he just needed to leave. You nodded sympathetically back to him, reaching out and grasping his shoulder to comfort him.

He shrugged your hand off after a shiver went through his body, breathing heavily as another wave of lust flushed through him, “I’m sorry. I- I don’t mean to, it’s just…” He trailed off, glancing back up to your face and seeing you nodding understandably back to him.

“I know, I hear it too. Text Tony and Pepper in an hour and tell them something came up. They’ll be okay with it.” You responded, almost wanting to stay behind to talk with the two more. They were one of the funniest but loveliest couples you met.  You felt close to them, almost as if they had a parental authority over you.

“I will, thank you.” Peter whispered back, gulping nervously as he tried to adjust his forming hard on. He just needed to go take a cold shower as soon as possible, and he already started thinking of strange things.

Deformed candles. Cheetos in beans on someone’s head. Evil cartoon characters. A dictionary with misspelled words.

You giggled, shaking your head at the things he comes up with in his thinking. You walked out of the ballroom with him, distancing yourself and opting to take an uber home instead, so he didn’t feel trapped. You worried about him during this month, realizing how bad it would feel to not nut for a guy.

You wished you could help him, but he wanted to keep the bet going.

When you got back to the Compound, your alarm instantly went off and your eyes widened, realizing you had to leave now. It was an emergency mission, you quickly read through the report, seeing that one of your contacts was revealed and gave up some information that needed to stay private. You rushed as fast as you can, barely sending a text to Peter who just got back to the Compound, saying you needed to leave.

Peter finally opened the text when he fell back on his bed, still struggling. He groaned, feeling his boner build up again, just imagining you out in the field, looking so sweaty and ready for anything. “Fuck…” He whimpered, quickly sitting up. He was worried for you being out there by yourself, but he knew he shouldn’t doubt your abilities. At the same time, he was trying to stop his feelings, because it just furthered his pain.

He cupped his boner, stumbling up and thinking to himself, how long has it been now? He couldn’t help it, thinking about sex. Fuck, it was crazy he wanted to just touch you again, how much he missed touching you was driving him insane. He couldn’t masturbate, he would lose the bet.

The winner also had the benefit of getting the title, “Greatest Person of the Year”, which included perks of people not teasing him and you, and many more. It would be great to have Bucky and Sam off your backs.

He set his phone down while he turned the shower on cold, needing to get in there as soon as possible. Maybe it would work now, but he couldn’t tell if it was too late to help. He still needed you by his side. Whether it was sexual or not, he loved you and needed to be by you.

“Ouch – oh shit.” He whined, coughing as the cold water hit his bare back. He stripped himself as quick as possible, now realizing he kept his socks on. He criticized himself, why’d you leave your socks on? Why are you doing this now?

The shower didn’t help at all. Once his body got used to the temperature, he got flashes of visions of you, from missing you. He groaned out of anger at himself for doing it, and he had to stop himself from palming his boner.

He got out of the shower, rushing to his phone and dialing your mission phone, that was connected to the earpiece you wore. When it connected, he could hear you grunting as you punched one of the people that attacked you.

“P-Peter? What’s up?” You stuttered, breathing heavily as you ran down to the other room, trying to get away for a few seconds to just get your mind together to focus.

“Oh shit- I’m sorry!” Peter rambled, forgetting you were busy. He hit his head and groaned to himself, hearing you on the other side of the phone.

Stop thinking like that idiot! He reminded himself, and you responded to him after a moment of shuffling around in the corner. “It’s okay! Is everything good? You alright, babe?” You whispered, glancing around and picking up one of the objects in the room with one of your powers, focusing it by the doorway to protect yourself.

“Yeah…uh, I’ll get you go. Please be safe. I love you.” Peter sighed out, scratching his hair as he sat by the edge of the bed, hoping you were okay.

You quickly responded to him, “Love you. I’ll be back in a few hours I think, maybe 12 hours tops?” You randomly guessed the time, knowing there was a lot to do. You hung up when you heard someone’s footsteps.

Peter gazed down at his boner, now fully erect and he frowned. The blood hurt so much in his cock; he couldn’t do anything though. He laid back on the bed, his head on his pillow, still naked, knowing any clothing would hurt to put on.

He tried to focus his thinking on something else again, anything. It barely helped, and he ended up squeezing his eyes shut as the pain rumbled through his body, the soreness was too much. He felt a few tears form and start to leak down his face, and he had to remind himself everything would be okay soon.

He rolled over, doing breathing techniques, trying to calm down. The tears wouldn’t stop coming though and he bit his lip, holding back his cries. It must have been ten or twenty minutes later when he pushed the pillow over his head, now having a headache from crying and the pain.

He held the pillow close, trying to block any light from the devices in the room, crying himself to sleep as the pain worsened.

When you got back, you quickly paced over to the room, needing to check Peter. You could tell he was struggling when he spoke to you and you pouted when you opened the door, seeing him laying on the bed. It was upsetting to see him with dried tear stains on the pillows, and you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

His boner was gone now, but you could tell he was probably in pain still. You laid down next to him, holding his arm softly, just hoping this dumb bet would be over soon so he wouldn’t struggle like that again.

[serendipitous-posts]

Sacrifice you for nothing

Tubbo and Ranboo get a history lesson

title from Ain’t No Crying by Derivakat

"Damn" Tubbo says, staring up at the ceiling. "That chandelier really is fighting you every step of the way, huh?"

"And it's winning" Ranboo adds.

Foolish, hanging from the ceiling as he fixes the corner piece, glares down at him. "It is not winning" he hisses "I won't let it win." That declaration would have been a lot more solid had he not squeaked as the chandelier rocked dangerously.

If that fell and broke he would actually lose it.

Tubbo has no mercy for him. "You must hate that chandelier right now" he mocks "must be your least favourite thing in the world."

 "Nah" Foolish grips a small chunk of gold carefully in his teeth to avoid breaking it "that would be cults" he mumbles. There's a brief bit of quiet below and then;

 "Oh yeah, I heard that the Eggpire wrecked your buildings or something."

 Chandelier finally fixed (for now) Foolish drops to the floor, a fall that would have shattered anyone elses ankles but just leaves him slightly winded. "Nah" he says "I've run into cults before; one's way worse than this one."

 "Worse?!" Ranboo exclaims "worse than the parasitic chicken embryo?!"

 "Far worse" Foolish confirms body language completely relaxed despite such a dark topic

 (but outside the seas begin to froth and bubbles, rapids forming and pushing and pulling, crashing against teeth sharp rocks and punching away at the cliffs surrounding it.)

 "they seem to keep popping up wherever I go. I-

 (hate them hates them with everything he is and everything he is supposed to be divine blood in his body but he can't save them can't protect everyone can't heal everything some things can't be reversed)

 "really don't like them. They suck."

(I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so so sorry, I can take your broken pieces and stitch them back, back together and it won't be the same but it will be similar and that is all I can give you)

 (the totem in Ranboo's back pocket begins to burn)

 "I'll say" Tubbo agrees, then, with childlike curiosity and teenage macabre "which one would would you say is the worst?"

  Foolish falls still.

(the sea falls still. the totems stop burning.)

 (it is somehow worse)

 "Probably the one made for me" he says at last.

 The story goes like this; there's a village that prays to him daily. It's not that uncommon really; he's the God of the Ocean and the Undead. People pray to him for safe passage on the seas or to help them find a totem.

 But the people in this village are- to put it bluntly- really fucking annoying.

 It's not uncommon for people without totems to pray to him for hours on end, begging him to revive their loved ones, but these guys have turned it into an art form, any and all hours of the day, banging around in his head.

 And when words don't work, they turn to physical ways to show their devotion to their God. 

 Silly little mortals, trying to gain his favour with dead animals and trinkets, trying to gain his favour. He already gave them a way to cheat death, all they have to do is grab a totem. Why do they want another?

 They have all they need to survive. He painstakingly carved those totems. He will not give too much of himself.

 (lord foolish please my mother is gone i want her back lord foolish you can bring my husband back lord foolish fix this fix her i know you can)

 So he ignores the animal sacrifices and the pretty trinkets offered to him in exchange for reviving a daughter, a son, a wife, a husband. He cannot revive the long dead, he learned that a long time ago.

 The only real bearable one in the village is the child, and he doesn't even think the child knows what he is the God of, really, which is odd considering the inordinate amount of statues in the town. Whenever the child prays to Foolish, it's never about a dead loved one or the sea, it's always about what the child did that day. Foolish feels more like a diary than a God in those moments.

 And at least that's interesting

 (mister foolish i learned how to spell flower the other day f-l-o-u-u-e-r mister foolish i saw a dead cat on the side of the road the other day)

 (mister foolish are you ever lonely)

 The humans grow more and more frustrated with his complete and utter radio silence, and while he's out their festivals to him grow more and more complex, the animals growing bigger, rarer, more impressive.

 (i offer you this ender dragon egg this elytra this nether star this emerald ore this music disc)

 He's not gonna lie; the person who built that beautiful cottage had him for a solid minute.

 But he's not really paying attention to any of that; he's not the only God to have festivals and sacrifices in his name. Definitely not gonna be the last.

 (what do we have to do to bring back our loved ones?)

 He's just happy to build.

 Bargaining is a stage of grief, but so is acceptance, and they must learn to accept this.

 (except their not accepting it, the town is just growing angrier, more desperate, going bigger and bigger, hunting animals around them to extinction.)

 The first time they kill a human, he's pretty sure it's an accident. An old man, long past his time, probably just died from shock or disease.

 They put his body on the altar and offer him up to him, not to revive but as a sacrifice. He arrives, cloaked in illusions as thick as the fog around the town. He still sees Death though, watching sedately from where she's sitting on the wall, her angel beside her.

 They're gone in the next moment.

 The town never buries the old man, keeps him on the altar, and, after three days, Foolish takes him, takes him far away to an old field and buries him there.

 (the leader of the town finds the missing body and smiles. their god has accepted their gift)

 He hopes it's a one time thing

 (because what did they do to that man how could they these humans these ants small and painfully easy to kill but flocking together working together how could they turn on one of their own)

 (because what would he do then?)

 (after the man disappears from the altar, the child prays to him again, telling him the man's name, and how he once stopped the child from getting a rash from poisonous flowers. he liked violets the child tells him)

 (maybe the child really does know what he's the god of. maybe the child's just lonely.)

 He doesn't know what exactly triggered it. Maybe they saw the child trying to make conversation with a God instead of praying to one. Maybe the child, in the way all children are, said something controversial, maybe about the man who was left on the altar to rot.

 Maybe, maybe, maybe.

 He isn't there when the child is dragged out onto the streets, and dumped at the feet of the altar in front of the whole town, trembling and shaking. And the child is a child but is no fool, has seen the sacrifices has seen what has happened, and does what any scared child will do-try to run.

 And at the same time the child tried to back away, the leader swung his sword, and the whole town watched as the child screamed, eyes bloodied and slashed from the blade. 

 (he had been aiming for the neck)

 (not a fighter, that leader)

 "A life for a life!" The leader exclaimed and swung again.

 (the child collapsed on the floor and the crowd pressed in, eager to watch as they choked and gagged on the blood spilling out of their torn open throat, arms scrabbling into the ground like a beetle like a cockroach like an ant whose colony had turned on it)

 And- and then-

 And at the same time the child tried to back away and the leader swung his sword, the child had had one last panicked, desperate thought.

 (mister foolish, they're gonna kill me)

 And at the same time-

 And at the same time the leader slit the child's throat, a golden clawed hand grabbed him by his.

 "So yeah" Foolish says. "Cults are, like, the worst."

 Ranboo and Tubbo continue to stare at him. "Uh" Ranboo says, then promptly stops talking.

 "Did you . . kill them?" 

 He nods, bouncing on his feet a little. "Yeah" he smiles "good times."

 The two teenagers both look like they don't know what to do with that.

 "Well, at least they deserved it" Tubbo offers up attentively, and Ranboo nods

 "Can't believe they executed a child. Nobody deserves to die like that" Ranboo mutters and Tubbo winces beside him.

 "Y-yeah" Tubbo agrees nervously, twining his hands together "that poor kid. Hope it was peaceful."

 Foolish blinks at them. "Wait, what?" Then he replays their entire conversation and laughs.

 "Laughing at a kid's death" Ranboo notes, before turning to Tubbo "why are we letting him near Michael again."

 "No, no" Foolish waves his hands "you misunderstood me; the child didn't die."

 "You guys do remember I'm the God of Undying, right?" He raises an eyebrow at them both. "I healed the kid's neck wound right up." Ranboo just blinks at him in that slightly unsettling way that only an enderman can do.

 "I thought you didn't revive people personally."

 Foolish glances outside, past the both of them. "This was different" he says "this was-"

 (my fault my fault i turned a blind eye i could have stopped this sooner you choked and gagged and cried out for anyone to save you but in the end the motivation for your murder had to step in.)

 "-an exception."

 "Good for you!" Tubbo cheers, shooting his hands in the air vehemently "the whole stinking town is gone and you and the child lived!"

 Foolish makes a noise in the back of his throat. "Except the other towns had heard about the towns rituals. And it began to spread."

 Tubbo's hands drop. "Oh."

 "Yeah" he agrees "oh. But the worst part was the damage done to the child."

 "Let me guess" Ranboo says, dry as Egypt. "Traumatised?"

 "To put it mildly."

 (the child had turned blind eyes towards him, and when he had reached out to grasp the pudgy hand it had recoiled, the small body curling up away from him and he had burned)

 (the child hadn't seen or felt the tsunami that destroyed the entire town. but the screams- they had ears)

 "But uh" he shifts awkwardly from foot to foot "not just that. I'm the God of Undying, so I can heal other's mortal injuries."

 A long pause.

 "Their mortal injuries" he repeats.

 "Oh!" Tubbo jerks back "oh God! The child's eyes-"

 "I healed them" he says, then winces "tried to heal them" he corrects. Better. "But uh, because they weren't fatal they weren't exactly, uh, restored."

 (the mirror is broken and the cracks will show even when it's put back together and you'll never see the same way again my fault my fault i'm sorry i'm so so so sorry)

(this is all i can give you i am so sorry only child lonely child i cant take all you pain away but i promise you here and now you will be lonely no more)

"Damn." The closest Ranboo will ever get to a swear.

 "It gets worse" Foolish chirps "the other towns found out that a child had been blessed by the Totem God himself. Were very interested in what exactly this child could do."

 A long pause.

 Then. "Cults" Ranboo says faintly.

 "Cults" Foolish agrees cheerfully, thinking of a child screaming in agony with bloodstained eyes and a gashed throat as others looked on, indifferent.

 Cults Foolish thinks grimly as that same child is dragged up to be executed by the Eggpire.

[isthisthingeven0n]

coping mechanisms : a.h

everyone has their ways of coping with traumatic events, but it’s finally time you faced yours. (2.5K)

m y  e t s y  s h o p

also pls don’t steal my work or share it without crediting, it takes a lot of time and effort to write these!

Sitting on the jet, you were abnormally quiet. Usually, the team couldn’t get you and Spencer to stop talking about anything and everything. Yet today, a strange silence loomed over you as Spencer rambled on about statistics, whilst Hotch tried to catch gaze from across the table that everyone besides you noticed.

“You know, based on Greek mythology, Ares is the God of War, son of Hera and Zeus and is one of the twelve Olympians. He’s also the equivalent of Mars in Roman mythology.” Spencer finishes his explanation with a small smile towards the team as your eyes remain fixated on the case file in front of you, something that didn’t go amiss by Hotch.

“So, this unsub thinks of himself as a God?” JJ questions as she scrolls through the various photos on her tablet of the nine victims so far.

“Each one has a new symbol on them, you see, on their wrists?” You finally speak up to everyone’s surprise. “Spence, are these symbols correlating to the other eleven Olympians?” You ask, focusing on your best friends gaze as his smile meets his eyes.

Taking in all of the images, Spencer nods. “It looks that way, but this one here, the sun which would symbolise Apollo, the God of archery, music, dance, healing diseases, truth and prophecy, and more recognisably sun and light. But it isn’t quite complete, looks as if the unsub was interrupted.” Spencer explains, watching as your interest quickly declines, and you lean back into your seat.

“Maybe there will be some security footage outside of the bar leading toward the alleyway the victim was found.” Hotch states, closing his case file as the jet begins to descend. “Morgan, I want you and JJ to go to the ME’s office, see if the symbols all correlate and any other marks that may be on the victims. Rossi, you and Reid go to the crime scene where Olivia Collins was found, see if anyone in the area saw anything. Y/n, you and I will go to the station.” Hotch tries to see if you’ll even focus on him, but you’ve retreated into yourself, shut down.

Eventually, you nod along with everyone else, unaware of the concern etched in Hotch’s hardened expression as you close your eyes, rubbing your temple as you lean against the window.

*

“Agent Hotchner?” A man walks over to you and Hotch, holding his hand out. “Officer Richards, a pleasure to meet you.”

“This is SSA Y/L/N, where would you like us to set up?” Hotch asks as you follow behind him to a free room, passing the blur of noise of phone calls and officers talking. “Y/n?” Hotch calls out your name, snapping out of your daze.

“Sorry,” You apologise, feeling the heat rising through your cheeks as Hotch hums to himself.

“Is something wrong, Y/n?” Hotch questions as he sits down beside you in the private office, his hands resting on the table. “If there is, you can tell me, especially if it affects your ability to work on the case.” Hotch tells you, his voice softer as your eyes grow heavy once more as you hide your hands in your lap.

“I don’t know Hotch,” You sigh. “and that’s the issue.”

Rising to his feet, Hotch closes the door to the room, shutting out the noise from the rest of the station as he returns to his seat beside you. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you? You seemed jittery on the jet.” Hotch states, not even needing you to agree with him.

“I just,” You struggle to form the correct words as you focus on your boss who looks back at you with a gentle expression. “I’m not feeling like myself, Hotch. And I just, I don’t know what to do about it anymore.”

Silence falls over you both as you play with the hem of your shirt, not wanting to face your bosses reaction. “Is it related to Utah?” Hotch watches as you tense at the mention of it. “If it is, you’re still entitled to see someone about it, Y/n.”

“But it was months ago, Hotch.” You comment quickly. “I should be over it, I moved on, I got better.” You explain. “So why is it now coming back to haunt me?” You exhale deeply.

“What happened to you in Utah isn’t something you can just walk away from, Y/n. You were captured and beaten, held at gunpoint in front of all of us to watch.” Hotch pauses as tears form in your eyes, one escaping as it glides across your cheek.

It was a sight Hotch will never be able to forget. He was the first one to find you in that building as you lay on the ground too weak to move. You were muttering nonsense as you screamed in pain when he tried to help you to your feet.

You were gone for three weeks, and in that time you were filmed being tortured and threatened to be killed whilst your team watched on a live stream. Hotch had never felt so useless since Hayley had died, and he didn’t dare want to risk losing you too, even if he had never said anything about how he felt.

“I know, I just want to forget about it.” You admit, wiping your eyes quickly with the cuff of your sleeve. “I have to.” You forcefully state before reaching over for the case files, but Hotch places his hand on the file, stopping you from taking it.

“Y/n,” Hotch starts with his authoritative tone. “you need to speak to someone when the case is over, and that’s an order.”

“I will, Hotch.” You force a small smile, taking the file and delving in deeper to the evidence that’s been collected so far.

“I’m saying that as your boss, and, and as a friend, okay?” Hotch adds softly, witnessing your forced smile soften into something genuine, even if it were for a split second, it returned.

*

You were getting closer, four more bodies had been found with the symbols of Hermes, Ares, Posideon and Hades carved into their wrists.

“What if the unsub knows we’re onto him? And this is his endgame now?” JJ suggests.

“But he hasn’t finished all twelve.” You state bluntly, ignoring the look on JJ’s face as you rise to your feet and look over the victim pool once more.

“Maybe that doesn’t matter to him.” Hotch comments, stepping toward you as he stands by your side, his back turned to everyone else. “Keep level, Y/L/N.” He mutters to you, a shudder going through your body as Hotch averts his attention back to the rest of the team. “Each of his victims has been associated in some way with each Olympian. Maybe he doesn’t have all twelve in the first place.”

“He’s halfway through the twelve though, why stop now?” Emily speaks up as Garcia interrupts and appears on the screen.

“Good afternoon my favourite crime fighters. I’ve discovered something that I think might help with your suspect pool.” Garcia states brightly. “It looks as if the victims were all part of the same after school club in High School. All from different friend groups and societies, but they all attended the Greek mythology club at Preston State.”

“How many others were involved in this group, baby girl?” Morgan asks, leaning forward as you listen to the sound of Garcia typing becoming further and further away.

“Four others. There’s Hayden Lewis who is currently serving seven months in jail for possession of drugs, Jordan Littlewood, she moved upstate to Michigan last year, Elise Harding and oh,” Garcia pauses, and you zone back into the room as you reach for the back of a chair to support yourself on.

“What?” JJ enquiries as Penelope pushes her glasses back up her nose, focusing on the camera.  

“When the group was in school, there was a fire in the same block that the club was held in. It says that six students and one teacher were killed in the accident, including Greek mythology club member, Timothy Cardel.” Garcia sadly sighs.

“What time of day did the fire occur Garcia?” Spencer leans forward in his chair, and you can see the cogs whirring behind his eyes.

“Erm,” Garcia hums to herself until she clicks on something. “3:35 pm on a Tuesday.”

“What’re you thinking, Reid?” Hotch focuses on Spencer as you take a seat, catching Hotches eye for a split second before Spencer starts to explain his thought process.

“Most school clubs happen after school, meaning there’s a high possibility the Greek mythology club was held on a Tuesday after school, and all the members were there when the fire happened. If school finishes at 3, then they would’ve all been in that building when the fire started.” Spencer explains, and you nod along.

“Meaning Timothy got left behind.” You state coldly, all eyes turning to you.

“I think we’re ready to deliver the profile,” Hotch announces as he rises to his feet, the rest of you following suit.

*

Fastening the velcro around your vest, you place your gun into its holster, unaware of Hotch hovering by the doorway as you exit.

“Y/n,” Catching you by surprise, you jump before glaring to Hotch. “sorry,” He tries to sound sincere, but a small smile creeps into his face as you relax beside him. “are you sure you want to do this? It might be best if you stay at the station.” Hotch suggests in a low tone.

“No,” You respond too quickly. “I, I want to come. I’m fine, really.” You add, nodding to yourself as you walk on, but Hotch reaches for your arm, pulling you back.

Your eyes focus on his hand resting on your arm, and quickly Hotch removes his hand from your arm. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.” He tells you sincerely, something you’ve heard countless times, but something about this seems different. No one else in the team is around, they’re all outside waiting for you both.

“I won’t.” You mutter in response, moving aside from Hotch as you exit the building, thankful for some fresh air as your vest is starting to feel constrictive.

Upon arriving at the unsubs house, you’re already feeling the humidity getting to you worse than it had been the entire time you’d been in the city. Spencer joked when the jet landed that you’ll get used to it, that fewer layers were key and Garcia would’ve loved a chance to see Morgan in fewer layers; but this was far from pleasant.

As you all filed out, guns at the ready Morgan followed behind Hotch whilst you’re on the tail end of the team.

You were unintentionally squinting as you listen to the sound of Morgan kicking the front door in as Hotch’s firm voice fills your ears.

“Y/n?” Snapping out from the blurred house, three versions of Spencer takes over your peripheral. “Hey, let’s sit down, okay?” Spencer speaks quietly, delicately as he reaches out to take a hold of your arm, but you jolt away.

“Get off me.” You snap, walking past him as your vision only worsens and the humidity seeps through your clothing, itching your skin as each step feels weighted until you reach the steps of the house.

Hotch emerges behind JJ and Morgan as they hold the unsub, passing you quickly, hiding their concerned looks.

“Y/L/N?” Hotch steps closer, capturing a glimpse of panic in your eyes just as you pass out as your head hits the pavement.

*

Cold coffee and stale doughnuts. The well worn in fabric beneath you had a spring sticking out, jabbing against your left thigh. You were back in the station. But what was more surprising was the hushed sound of a conversation ending between two of your colleagues whilst your eyes remained closed.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell her?” Rossi mutters as he averts his gaze from your ‘sleeping’ form to Hotch, who is unable to take his eyes from you for a single second.

“I’m not sure, Dave.” Hotch admits, wanting to reach out and brush the stray hairs out of your face, but he doesn’t want to risk waking you up, not yet at least. “Maybe someday, but not today.”

Rossi tuts to himself. “You’re letting all the good ones slip out of your grasp, Aaron,” Rossi comments. “and you know how much Jack loves her.”

The mention of Jack causes your heart to swell, and it takes everything for you to not smile as you gain consciousness.

“He’s not the only one,” Hotch adds, just as a yawn escapes your lips and you begin to open your eyes.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Rossi speaks up, rising to his feet whilst Hotch stays glued to his chair beside you.

Slowly, you try to sit upright but Hotch leans forward, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “I’d just stay lying for a while if I were you.” Hotch suggests as you nod along, forcing yourself back down.

“I’ll go check on the others, let them know you’re alright.” Rossi excuses himself, leaving a heavy silence over you and Hotch.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” Hotch asks, his stern gaze concentrated on the exhaustion in yours.

“No time like the present.” You force a laugh, ignoring Hotch’s prior suggestion and sit upright as a slight pang crosses your temples. “I’m going to take some leave when we get back to Quantico.” You tell Hotch, watching as he nods.

“I think it’s for the best, Y/L/N.” He responds, catching the sight of your leg bouncing for a moment before you rest your hand on your thigh, forcing it to remain still.

“I know I’m due for a lecture, and a debriefing about the mission,” You hold back the urge to sigh, but Hotch beats you to it as a heavy sigh leaves his lips, causing you to smile.

The sight of a smile crossing your face is too contagious at the moment between you both. “We can talk more when we’re back. For now, I think it’s best if we just got you home in one piece.” Hotch stands up and hovers beside you, his arm extended as you gratefully accept.

“Thanks, Hotch.” You smile softly up to him as you exit the sheriff's office and near the rest of your team.

After a series of short questions, you’re all heading towards the jet.

“I couldn’t be happier to go home.” JJ sighs as she rests her head in her hand, looking out at the city as you near the airport.

Sitting beside Hotch in the passenger seat, your eyes glance over to him. “Me too,” You reply, a smile gracing your lips, knowing there’s more yet to be discussed with Hotch, including what he said before you fully woke up. “me too.” 

[9tzuyu]

my guitar is slightly out of tune, but i’m eternally yours.

[reuploaded and revised from my old blog.]

↠ prompt: you have a terminal illness but you have a chance with treatment but you deny it, then you meet wanda and you feel alive again.

↠ warnings: kinda angsty, but worth the read :>.

requests are always open!

masterlist

∘∴∙*⋆∙∴⋆∘∙*. ∘

“Oh–” was all you managed to say. “I recommend we start radiation treatments-” You zoned out and watched your feet dangle from the edge of the exam table. Was this it? Was this really all there was for you? It seemed hopeless to even do anything at this point. You figured if this was affecting you again, it was for a reason. 

"No. I don't want treatment." The doctor looked at you and his gaze faltered. "You do understand that if you refuse treatment this will inevitably kill you?" You nodded. The words felt empty, they carried no weight behind them anymore. Nonetheless, the doctor continued to try and persuade you. 

"I said I don't want the treatment. I'm refusing medical advice. I don't want to have to go through this again, it's obviously not going away. Now where the hell do I sign the papers?" You exasperated. The doctor gave you one last look before getting the papers for you to embark your signature on.

“You’re one-hundred percent sure about this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I've got nothin' left for me here anyways. Might as well just let nature take its course.”

"Well surely you've got someone, a friend maybe?" You shook your head.

 "Nope." You replied, popping the P at the end. The doctor seemed to finally grasp the situation when you handed the papers back to him as if you were turning in a job application.

He pursed his lips, "I'm going to give prescribe medication for the pain. Based on the size of the tumor I'd say you have about eight months to live, but only about half of those months will be enjoyable." You nodded your head in reply and gathered your stuff together. 

So how were you going to spend your last months on earth? That was the question you asked yourself. You walked out of the building and found yourself in a coffee shop. It was busy, but you found yourself a seat next to a window in the back of the shop. Your eyes gazed out the window as you pondered your question from earlier.

'I could move to New York and see broadway shows I've never wanted to see'

'There's always casinos–'

'–Or what about splurging your money on dumb things that you'll quite literally never need?'

You laughed at your thoughts. You made up your mind right there, you were going to live the rest of your life just the way it was. It’d be easier that way. You didn't have friends, no longer had parents, so it's not like anyone would really miss you really. All you had was your pet cat and your guitar. And truth be told, that's all you needed. 

Coffee.

"Hello?" You snapped out of your gaze to see a beautiful brunette standing in front of you. The second thing you noticed was her accent, you'd never heard it before. “I was wondering if this seat was taken?” She softly smiled at you. You returned the gesture and shook your head no. "The place is cram packed and you seemed trustworthy. I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything, you seemed to be pretty deep in thought." The young woman blushed a crimson color, "I'm sorry I probably seem weird or something, I'll go."

Normally you would have cared, but at this point in time you didn't mind the company. So, with the slightest bit of hesitation, you called out for her.

“Wait! It’s fine, don’t worry. I-I’m all alone.” The woman’s smile widened as she took a seat across from you. “Thanks. I'm Wanda, what's your name?”

"Y/N." 

"Y/N..." She flexed your name on her tongue, "That's a beautiful name."

"I'm stuck with it for life, so I sure hope it's at least a decent name." You narrowed your eyes at her as you joked. A giggle escaped the gap between her lips, causing a small flutter to emit in your stomach.

"So what do you do?" She asked, intrigued by your presence.

"Well I do a lot of things, I walk, I talk, I breathe-"

"Oh shut up! You know what I meant." Wanda’s eyes gleamed with friendliness and warmth. She seemed like the type you'd be friends with if you weren't dying. "Okay, okay, I play guitar and sing while my cat eats her food." Wanda's eyes lit up at the mention of a cat. 

"You have a cat? What's her name?" Her elbows were propped up on the table with her head resting in her hands, showing just how actually interested she was in you.

“Her name is Nala. You know, from The Lion King?”

Wanda’s brows furrowed together. She’d never seen The Lion King, much less heard of it.

Your jaw dropped at her confusion. “You mean to tell me you’ve never seen The Lion King?”

“I’m Sokovian, what do you expect?” 

“Ahh, I see. Well, do you at least have any pets?”

"My apartment doesn't allow pets."

"So? Sneak one in." You replied nonchalantly, crushing ice between your teeth. Wanda looked at you in shock. "No way! Knowing me I'd get my ass caught on the first day." You shrugged in reply and the conversation quickly went dead.

Wanda checked her phone, moving abruptly to get up from her seat. "I'm so sorry, I have to go now. I'll see you around, okay?"

“Sure.”

After another half hour of waiting on nothing and thinking about everything, you finally decided it was time to leave. A feeling of regret washed over you. The woman was kind, very friendly, something that you craved.

But you couldn’t allow yourself these things now, especially given the direction you were heading.

_____

Over the next few weeks you'd spent your time songwriting, journaling and a midst of other lonely, boring things. Sometimes you'd catch yourself thinking about the woman in the coffee shop, but you tended not to dwell too much on the past. 

You thought about your tumor and all the different ways it was growing inside you. It grossed you out more than anything, but you weren't afraid. At least not now you weren't. 

A heavy sigh slipped from your lips, and the sudden urge to go to the park overtook the need to do anything else. You’d never really visited the park in your area before, so you decided now was the time. 

The beige acoustic guitar rest heavily on your shoulders, similarly to the weight of the world. It was bitter, no taste of sweetness was left over in the aftermath.

Leaves crunched under your feet as you made your way into the park. The smell of pine and bark surrounded you, just as the pinch of cold air that struck your face. It was tranquil.

You marched your way over to a nearby tree secluded from everyone else. Setting your guitar down, you nested cozily against the wood. Your journal rest aside your hip as did the pen that exchanged your thoughts into words.

Humming quietly, your fingertips grazed the instrument’s delicate strings. Music filled the air around you, but it came to a quick stop nearly ten minutes after you’d begun.

"Hey, I know you. Y/N, right?" You heard a familiar accented voice behind you. You turned around to find Wand standing above you. "Uh yeah, that's me. What's up?" She sat down beside you, making you a little uncomfortable, but you figured you could deal with it for the sake of being nice. 

"Nothing. I just saw you and thought I’d say hi. What about you? I see you have your guitar."

“Just singing,” you mumbled quietly.

She smiled and pushed a strand of hair out of your face that was blown in from the wind. "You’re really pretty." You bit your lip and you could feel the heat rise to you face. "Thanks."

"Mhm. So last time I didn't get your number, maybe I will this time?" She asked (although her eyes were begging). You couldn’t help but feel something while she bit her lip, her doe eyes unintentionally focusing on your lips.

"I'll have to give you mine, I didn't bring my phone with me – don’t use it much." You replied. She handed her phone to you and you typed your number in.

"Do you not have family or friends you keep up with?" Her brow quirked in curiosity.

"Parents died, no siblings, and no friends. I don't have many people to worry about."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine, I don't mind." She looked down in her lap before asking another question. "What about a job? Do you work?" Wanda was definitely a curious one, but each question she asked carried you in a way you’d never felt before. It was refreshing to have someone interested in you, and not your disease. 

"Nope, when my parents died they left all their life savings to me. It's plenty enough for me to live on." Your fingers began lightly playing the chords of a song. It was often that you unknowingly played when you were scared or nervous. You'd only realize afterwards. 

"That's good– not that your parents died, but you know, you have money and stuff. Even if it's– oh my god- " 

You cracked out a laugh, causing her to look at you in terror. Noticing this, you rest a hand on her shoulder. "Wanda, it's okay. You're fine, I know what you mean." She nodded shyly and looked up to the sky. 

"Hey, it's sunset! I love sunsets, I used to watch them all the time with my brother back in Sokovia." Her voice wavered at the end of her sentence, and you easily picked up on it.

"Something wrong?" You asked. She laid her head on your lap and you stiffened, but quickly relaxed. This is fine. This is okay. You set your guitar aside and began to play with her hair.

"I miss him. Pietro..." She paused for a second before continuing. "He died a couple of years ago from cancer." You felt your heart drop for the first time at the mention of the horrid disease that stripped you away from most of your life. "Oh." The word seemed to become your go-to for whenever you didn't know how to accept information you were given.

"He was the other half of me. We were twins, I felt like my whole world fell apart. After he died I moved out of my country and moved here. Since then I've made some good friends. You might like them." 

“I’m sorry about your brother. I’m sure he was wonderful, Wanda.” You whispered, bringing a piece of her hair to the end of a braid. “I'm happy you've made some friends." Wanda nodded and snuggled closer in your lap. "Maybe I can be your friend?" You gave it a thought. You weren't sure you could do that to her, not with your illness anyway. Guilt nawed at you already. She’d already lost someone so beloved and close to her from it, how awful you began to feel if you had to put her through that again.

"Y/N?"

You stared at her for a few moments before answering. "I don't know, maybe." She turned over to face you, but you avoided her gaze. "I'm going to figure you out you know." You stifled a laugh, "And you'll be sorry you ever did."

"Whatever."

____

Four months passed and you thought they would be empty, meaningless months, but with Wanda nuzzling her way into your life you began to feel alive for the first time. When she came around it was like a switch you couldn't turn off. 

Right now, you sat at your desk strumming your guitar while watching Nala play with a toy dinosaur you’d bought her just weeks ago. This life was good too, you thought. But it was lonely.

You weren't quite sure what Wanda meant to you yet, but you were slowly discovering that whatever the two of you had, blossomed into something more each second you spent together.

Popping a Vicodin in your mouth, your phone buzzed. It would be no one else but Wanda.

be there in a few, it's urgent. 

Panic set in your body as you worried for the safety of your friend. What could possibly be the matter? Normally Wanda talked about what was bothering her.

A knock at your door brought you out of your gaze and you stumbled to answer it. Wanda was distressed, her hair a mess and her eyes red.

“Whats wro-” You were cut off By Wanda smashing her lips onto yours. 

She pulled back in shock. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I-"

You shut her up by pushing her into the wall, door closing behind you. Her lips tasted of strawberry and her hands began to roam your body.

One thing led to another and you both ended up naked on your bed. How amazing it must be to wake up and know that you won’t be dead in the next few months.

"You're good. Almost too good. Where did you learn all that from having no friends?" She smirked at you. You gave her a smile and kissed her again. Your arms wrapped around her nude body and together you felt the utter bliss and excitement radiating from one another.

. . . . 

Three weeks later yoy began to shake. It was hardly noticeable, and it just so happened to occur when you were playing

It’s downhill from here and you know that.

"Can you fix it? Can you fix this?" You yelled at him, despite knowing it was all your fault. If you would've just taken the treatments you wouldn't be in this place. But back then your life had no real meaning, it was just you and your cat.

You hadn't planned on falling in love with someone. 

"There's nothing I can do now. Treatments won't work, it's too far gone. I'm surprised it took this long to start showing symptoms."

For the first time in years, you felt tears beginning to build in your eyes. "You don't understand, I love her and now I'm just going to leave her? This can't be happening, you have to do something!" You pleaded, but the doctor’s eyes were solemn, giving you the only reply you needed. 

You stormed out of the hospital and made your way to Wanda. Silence rang through your ears.

Tell her. You have to tell her.

It will be over.

Sobs wrecked your body as you fumbled with the keys to your shared apartment. The door opened to a sight you wanted to live forever.

There she was, perched on the couch while massaging Napa’s scruffy fur. She was content, happy, and here you were to ruin it.

"Y/N? Baby what's wrong?" She got up from her spot and rushed over to you, worry etched on her face. You clung onto her for more life than you had left. And god, You weren't scared before, but you sure as hell were now. 

"I have terminal cancer."

Wanda froze.

"That's not funny, Y/N. You know how I feel about this topic." Her glare was hasty, burning into your skin.

"I was diagnosed almost five months ago, please Wanda you have to believe me. I have tremors, don't you see?" You raised your hand up to show her, but she slapped it away. "You're making yourself do that, Y/N. Stop joking, or I'm leaving." She crossed her arms

"W-What?" Your chest tightened.

"I said stop joking."

"I'm not joking, Wanda!"

"I'm leaving," She huffed, snatching her jacket before slamming the door shut.

And it was true, she did leave. However, Wanda didn't leave for the reasons she gave you.

She loved you, but she couldn’t handle another loss like this.

. . . . 

During the next two months you experienced the most heartache you'd ever felt before. The combination of vomiting, body aches, and dizziness didn't help. If anything, it made it worse. You missed Wanda. Everything about her gave you a reason to live.

You were on your seventh month and the pain was unbearable. It hurt to reach out for a cup of water, your hands shook uncontrollably all while sending jolts of scorching pain throughout the entirety of your arm.

Undoubtedly, the hospital bed became your next best friend (although it was the worst one you’d ever had. But it somehow managed to weasel its way back in your life).

Wanda was nowhere to be seen, and if anything that only progressed your disease. The only thing that kept you sane was your guitar, and the fact that Nala was being taken care of by a sweet, old nurse (who sometimes snuck her in so you could see her).

It was about the small things now. 

More days passed and each one was getting worse. By now you just wanted to end it all on your own, but you were physically too weak to do that.

There was a knock on your door, but you ignored it thinking it was just another nurse. "Y/N?" The voice was soft, it felt like it'd been years since you last heard it. You turned your head slightly to see Wanda standing in the doorway. A weak smile formed on your face.

"Hey you." 

Wanda quickly dropped her things and ran to your side. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She mumbled over and over again as you calmly stroked her hair.

"It's okay, you know it is." You whispered in her ear. She looked up at you and shook her head, "But it's not okay, I left you when you needed me the most." You stared at her adoringly and the tips of your fingers gently rubbed away the tears from her face. "But I'm still here, aren't I?" She laughed through her cries, "Yeah... you're still here."

Both of you knew you didn't have much time left, but you ignored that other than the fact that you made her promise to take care of Nala when you were gone. She held your hand and got you everything you needed.

And you love her so deeply for that.

One night you had the feeling that your time was coming soon, so you woke Wanda up from her sleep. "Sweetheart?" She stirred a little before finally sitting up. 

"Yeah?"

"Hand me my guitar?" She tilted her head, "But your shakes?" You ignored her and asked for it again. 

When she handed you your beloved guitar you took it with grace. "Come help me, I wanna play a song." She nodded and came to your side.

Your fingers struggled as they strummed the delicate strings on the instrument. You picked one of Wanda's favorite, and when you were done you spoke lightly.

"My guitar is slightly out of tune, but I'm eternally yours."

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch7: Old Habits Die Hard

Part 2

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: It’s the day of Pooch’s wedding, emotions are running high and it all comes to a dramatic conclusion.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language and a whole heap of angst. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: So here is part 2 of Chapter 7…and it’s explosive! Translation: Chinga tu madre, Cabrón = Go fuck your mother, asshole.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7 Part 1

Lay your demons at the door, this is what we're fighting for, trying to clear the air but nobody's talking. We've been breathing this disease, trying to find a way to see, but the end is in your eyes, let's finish this tonight.

“What I don’t get,” Jensen looked at the bridesmaid who watched him with rapt attention, twisting a strand of hair round her finger, “is why come to Mexico and not get married on the beach?”

“Well they thought about it, but then Jolene decided she didn’t want to get covered in sand.” The red-head shot back. “So they chose this terrace, it’s kinda on the beach, I mean, you can see the ocean.”

“But if you don’t want to get sandy, why come here in the first place?”

“Because it’s cheaper.” She shrugged.

“So you’re saying Pooch is a cheapskate.” Jensen raised his eyebrow and she hesitated before she shook her head.

“No, that’s…” she began to talk, protesting that wasn’t what she was saying when he heard Roque shout out Stella’s nickname.

“Hey, Arty!”

Jake instantly glanced over his shoulder to look for her, and when he saw her, the air was completely knocked from his lungs.

Her dress was a gorgeous watercolor-like ombre blue. The deepest of sky blue shade covering her shoulders with wide straps and a deep v-neck line that wrapped at her breasts and it lightened just at the lower ribs to a cotton blue, before trailing down at the hemline in a pale blue almost white shade. The cut exposed her leg to mid-thigh, giving just a peek of the petunia inked into her skin. Her hair was pulled back off her face in an elegant, sleek pony tail and her lips popped a deep, burnt red. Her blue eyes stood out under thick lashes and perfectly lined eyebrows, the rest of her make up remaining neutral. She'd only been in the sun a day, but just as it always did, it had kissed her body in a way that made each little freckle pop and her entire frame glow.

The salty sea air and sunshine always looked good on Stella Stevenson and today, the overall effect made Jensen's mouth water.

“Holy shit.” He muttered, turning away from the girl and conversation without so much as a goodbye, leaving her stood there shooting daggers at his back.

Stella smiled as Roque kissed her cheek, then Cougs and finally Clay before she stepped back and smiled as their Colonel’s arm curled around the slim, petite brunette to his right.

“Stel, this is Emma, Emma this is Stella.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Emma smiled, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Why doesn’t that fill me full of confidence?” Stella laughed and Emma shook her head, smiling.

“Oh, no, I assure you, it’s all been good!”

As the two women continued to chat and laugh, Jake stood there, waiting for his turn, hands jammed into the pockets of his dress slacks. Eventually, Stella nodded and turned to him and he flashed her a smile.

“You know, that’s the second day in a row I’ve seen you looking like a grown up!” She quickly scanned him up and down, taking in his well-fitted, steel grey suit. The top button of his jacket fastened, nipping in at his slim waist and spanning over his broad chest and shoulders. The crisp white dress shirt underneath stood out against the suit, and matched his white pocket swatch, the entire ensemble pulled together by the steel grey tie which matched his jacket and slacks.

As she was looking, Jake leaned forward, her perfume sending him lightheaded as always. He placed a gentle peck to her cheek, his chin brushing her ear slightly. “You look stunning.” He whispered, and he didn’t miss the goose-bumps that appeared on her skin as she swallowed and pulled away.

“Thanks.” She stood still, simply looking at him, and the two of them were locked in a gaze before Stella cleared her throat, breaking the spell. “You guys know where we’re supposed to be seated?”

“Yeah, we’re on the right,” Clay gestured, “Grooms side or whatever.”

The gang moved to find their seats, Jensen stepping forward ready to offer Stel his arm but Roque beat him to it.

“Always the gentleman, huh?” She smiled at him and he chuckled, a deep, low timbre rumbling from his chest.

“You know me, Arty.”

Jake watched them go, before he gave a yelp and clutched at his side, glaring at Cougar.

“Stop drooling, Jensen.” Cougar peered at him from underneath his hat, smirking as Jake rubbed at the place on his ribs where he had dug him with his elbow.

“I’m not drooling, shut up Cougs.”

Thankfully, Cougar left it there and they moved to take their seats along the row that Clay, Emma, Roque and Stella had already occupied. Cougar, whether on purpose or not, reached the end of the row first and slid in next to Stella, separating her from Jensen. Jensen rolled his eyes, but before he could get too pissed about it, Pooch arrived, in a simple black pinstripe three piece with an ivory and red striped tie, and made his way down the aisle, greeting everyone. He stopped at the row that contained the Losers and smiled, Jensen pulling him into a hug, clapping his shoulder as he pulled away.

The thing with weddings, is that no one can actually tell you were the day goes. They seem to pass in a whirl and Pooch’s was no exception. What felt like mere seconds after The Groom had arrived, but was in fact more near to twenty minutes, the music started and Jolene appeared at the large arch at the back of the terrace, walking slowly with her dad down the aisle, in a gorgeous knee-length fitted lace dress, which set off her curves and legs perfectly, her curly ebony hair pinned up elegantly at the back of her head. As she reached Pooch, she reached up and straightened his tie and Stella heard a “Pay up, Captain” to her right. She turned to see Roque reaching over Emma, handing Clay a twenty, not even looking at him, and she let out a soft snort, shaking her head.

The Bride and Groom exchanged simple vows and Pooch head tears in his eyes as he made his declaration. At that point, Jake couldn’t help but take a glance at Stel to find her looking down at her hands, the fingers of her left twisting the white gold and ruby solitaire ring that sat on her right ring finger, a gift from him for her twenty-first. He swallowed a little, as he hadn’t seen her wear it in a while before she glanced up, and he took the opportunity to study her pretty profile for a second before he turned his attention back to the front for the ring exchange.  Before long the new Mr and Mrs Pooch headed down the red carpet in the middle of the aisle to cheers and the guests filed their way back inside for drinks whilst the staff set up the outside terraced area for the reception.

To Jake’s delight, there was no huge stuffy sit down meal, it was just a large buffet which meant he could eat what he wanted and how much he wanted, which suited him perfectly. What didn’t suit him, however, was that he didn’t see that much of Stella, at all. Post eating and listening to the speeches, whether intentionally or not, she avoided him, spending most of the time sipping champagne and cocktails chatting to Emma and few of Jolene’s friends. Jake was left to mooch around, mainly with Cougar who was absolutely trying to get into the blonde bridesmaid’s panties. Unfortunately, she was stuck like glue to the red headed one that Jake wasn’t interested in.

“You make a shit wingman.” Cougar gave a jab to Jensen’s rib with his elbow as the two girls wandered off.

“Good job I’m not a pilot then.” Jensen shrugged, taking a pull from his beer as his eyes scanned the room for Stella.

At that point they both got strong slaps on their shoulders as Pooch drew up behind them both, leaning between them a little.

“Your momma was a pilot.”

Cougar and Jensen both looked at one another before they slowly turned to glance at Pooch.

“Did you just drop a momma joke on your wedding day?” Jensen snorted

“A shit one at that.” Cougar added, tipping his hat slightly with the neck of his bottle.

“Come on guys! As you have just said it’s my wedding day so let’s have a drink together before Jolene’s, sorry my wife’s,” at that he grinned, “bridesmaids hunt you down again.”

“What if I want to be hunted?” Cougar shrugged

“Hence why I said before. Pay attention Cougs.”

“Chinga tu madre, Cabrón.” Cougar smirked, causing both Pooch and Jensen to snort as they knew that insult very well having heard it a few times.

“I dare you to say it to her face.” Pooch looked at him as Cougar merely smirked, giving him a wink.

Pooch rolled his eyes, “what about you, Jensen?”

“I don’t wanna fuck Momma Pooch!”

“Why? What’s wrong with her?”  Pooch looked at him.

“What? Nothing, that’s just gross!” Jensen pulled a face.

“He’s considering a trip down memory lane instead.” Cougar teased and Pooch groaned.

“Dude! Seriously, you need to get over it!”

At that Jake turned to look at Cougar. “No I’m not, stop making shit up!” Cougar shrugged, smirking slightly and simply held his gaze as Jensen groaned. “Whatever, man.”

Cougar merely shrugged, as chilled as ever whilst Pooch laughed and handed them a drink from a passing tray. “Well, I think that deserves a toast. To the first married Loser…oh, wait, that would be me! And to Jensen who seriously needs to stop flogging a dead horse!”

Jensen took a deep breath, once upon a time he’d fully expected to be married by now, full disclosure, to Stella. Maybe a kid on the way if there wasn’t one around already. And that thought gave him a perfect way out of this current train of conversation.

“How long till Baby Pooch comes along?”

“Dude, if it was up to me he’d be on the way already!” Pooch grinned.

“He?” Jensen shook his head. “Nah man, you want a girl.”

“What? No! I want a little Pooch. Why would I want a girl?”

“A girl always loves her daddy.” Jensen shrugged. “Like Gracie, man, she’s awesome. There’s just something about seeing her with Robert. It’s cute.” He paused and grinned. “I want a girl. Imma call her Daisy.”

At that Cougar let out a snort as Pooch began to howl with laughter.

“Who’s Daisy?” Clay asked as he appeared with Roque, the pair of them smirking at something.

“Jensen’s first born. Apparently.” Pooch wiped his eyes.

“Wait, what?” Roque frowned and turned to Jensen. “You have a kid?”

“No, it’s a hypothetical one.” Jensen shook his head.

“Good.” Roque blew out a breath. “Do me a favour and never reproduce, Jensen.”

“Fuck you Roque,” Jake snapped back. “I’d make a great dad.”

“Yeah, well, you might wanna start ‘daddying’ that chick in the red dress over there, because she’s eye-fucking you shamelessly.” Roque nodded over his shoulder and Jake turned around. He gave the girl a once over, she was pretty but…his trail of thought died as he spotted Stella was stood alone at the bar. He necked his drink and holding up his glass he stated, “need a refill.” before he turned and headed over the room.

“Yeah, sure.” Pooch rolled his eyes as Cougar gave a low chuckle.

“Told ya.”

“Man he just can’t help himself, can he?” Roque shook his head as the three of them watched Jensen who approached Stella, his hand dropping to the small of her back as he leaned over to talk to her.

“Nope” Clay let out a sigh as Stell laughed at something Jake said. “Ahh, leave him to it, we can always do damage control, as usual where he is concerned.”

“How do you damage control a suicide bomb?” Pooch looked at Clay and Roque snorted.

“Pooch is right, dude is basically a hand grenade right now.”

“Don’t get involved guys.” Clay shook his head and Cougar nodded.

“I agree with boss. If Jensen’s gonna pull the pin, he can dive on it.”

“The problem will come when he tries to ‘pull her pin’ and she kicks his ass. But, fortunately I will be enjoying my wedding night.” Pooch shrugged. “See ya, Losers. Don’t have too much fun!”

The three of them watched him wander off over the room, shouting to someone, and Clay’s eyes fell on his date, Emma, who was smiling at him and waving from her spot at a table.

“I will also be enjoying Pooch’s wedding evening.” Clay winked and walked off.

Roque turned to look at Cougar. “Don’t even think of it…”

Cougar merely chuckled, tipped his hat and also wandered off, hands in his pockets as he sauntered over to a group of girls.

“That’s okay, just leave me here, I’m good!” Roque called after them before he let out a sigh. “Assholes.”

****

As the hours passed they drank, a lot. And naturally, where alcohol is involved inhibitions start to lower. There was a lot of fun being had, a lot of jokes being shared and other stupid activities being partaken in, such as a raucous drinking game Stella and Jake played against  Pooch’s uncle and his brother.

Which they lost, spectacularly.

Stella was feeling fairly light headed thanks to the mix of champagne, beer and cocktails running through her system, along with a few shots of tequila and somehow, she had no idea how, the two of them ended up on the dance floor, dancing to some really random shit when ‘La Bamba’ started playing. Jake grabbed Stella’s hand with a whoop of joy and started twirling her round, her face creasing in laughter as they let loose, Jake showing off his pretty neat footwork

“I thought you said he wasn’t taken?” The red headed bridesmaid gestured to Jake as she stood next to Pooch and he snorted.

“He’s not”

“Could have fooled me.”

“It’s complicated.” Pooch shrugged. “Long story short, she’s taken, he’s not. He wishes she wasn’t as it’s his fault she is.” He turned to the woman besides him. “If that makes any sense.”

From the look on her face, it made no sense at all, which wasn’t surprising to Pooch as he struggled to make sense of Jensen and Stella’s fucked up dynamic, but before she could reply there was a slap on his shoulder.

“Ten bucks says they end up in bed together,” Roque slurred.

“No way man.” Pooch shook his head, “she won’t cheat on Evan.”

“Fuck that guy,” Roque snorted. “Look, she’s hammered, here alone, I’m calling it.”

Pooch was about to tell Roque that Evan present or not, Stella would cut Jensen’s balls off if he tried anything when the familiar opening bars of ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ cut across the dance floor.

Both Stella and Jake paused a little, Jake running his hand through his hair as he gestured to the tables, clearly asking Stella if she wanted to quit dancing when she shook her head, giving him a smile, which Jensen returned as she took his hand, the pair of them beginning to sing and dance along.

“Twenty bucks,” Roque hiccupped, upping his stake.

“You’re on.” Pooch shook his hand as the bridesmaid snorted.

“And you’re losing.”

Pooch watched her go and then turned back to the dancefloor to see Jake and Stella now dancing pretty close...

This had always been their song. That was why Jensen had asked if she wanted to sit it out when it had come on, but she’d refused, and as such he’d been twirling her round to the music just like he always had. After one spin, they end up facing one another, singing very loudly as Jake threw his arms up and around, Stella snorting and laughing at his antics.

“Do you remember dancing to this at prom?” Jensen grinned as he continued to throw his arms around wildly, Stella shaking her head. He smiled, his mind straying back to that night, how amazing the entire evening had been, not least for the fact it had been the first time they’d fully given themselves to one another. He remembered laying there, after, as they both giggled and kissed and cuddled, thinking there and then that was it for him, there’d never be another girl who came close.

And then he’d pulled a Jensen, and ruined it.

“Of course I do.” Stella smiled. “Life was simpler back then, huh?”

“Isn’t it always?” Jensen asked as he spun her back round, pulling her in so her back was to his chest, hands dropping to her hips as the electric guitar solo struck up signalling the song was almost at and end. He felt Stella take a deep breath.

“Well we were kids.”

“But it was easy.” Jensen dropped his chin to her shoulder, his cheek brushing hers. “It was just you and me and the rest of our lives ahead.”

Stella tilted her head to look at him as the song faded into ‘I’ve Had The Time Of My Life’ and she pulled away, turning to face him with a shrug.

“Didn’t quite work out the way we thought though did it.” She asked, her hands sliding round his neck.

Jensen sighed, his fingers flexing against her hips. “I know. I fucked up.” He swallowed, the lump thick in his throat and Stella shook her head.

“Don’t.” She warned. “Not now.”

But Jensen wasn’t listening. He had to get it off his chest, he couldn’t stand the sick, hot feeling he got every time he thought about her and Evan. He needed to tell her, even if she told him there was no chance for them ever again, at least he’d know.

“No, just listen to me, Stelly, please.” His eyes locked onto hers. “There’s not a day goes by I don’t regret it. You know that, right? And no matter what happens I’ll always-“

He was cut off as Stella landed a harsh, stinging slap to his left cheek, his head whipping to the right. He took a deep breath, stunned, before he turned his head to face her, shocked splashed across his handsome features.

A few people around them stopped dancing, and Stella could hear a few hushed whispers, along with a louder shout of ouch, from who she had no idea. She opened her mouth to say something, the tears spilling from her eyes before she realised she needed to get out of there, and fast. So she did.

She hurried out of the room towards the hotel lobby and elevator, wiping the tears that were falling down her face. She knew she shouldn’t have done that, and maybe it was a little harsh, but the anger she felt towards Jake at that moment in time was insurmountable. He had left her, twice basically, and continued to fuck with her head, and then had the audacity to try and ...well, she didn't even know what he was trying to do. Her head was a mess, a fuckery of conflicting feelings, and she was as drunk as she could remember being in a long time, which wasn't helping.

She was also well aware that she'd just made a complete scene at Pooch's wedding, potentially seen by his entire family and friends, and that not only embarrassed her, it also made her feel like crap for being that asshole guest that everyone would be talking about for months to come.

*****

Jensen ignored both Roque and Clay who had crowded round to ask him what the hell he'd done to deserve a slap, but he simply pushed them out of the way, only one thing on his mind, getting to Stella and making her listen. He hurried out of the room, skidding to a slightly unsteady halt in the corridor before he jogged down the hallway and into the lobby where he spotted her at the elevator.

“Stel!" He yelled her name in an attempt to stop her, drawing intrigued and surprised looks from the guests and staff alike in the atrium. "Stella, wait!"

She didn't turn around, but he could tell she'd heard him, well, everyone in the lobby had heard him, but if that wasn't evidence enough to show that his calls across the foyer had reached her, the fact that she began angrily slamming her hand against the elevator call button certainly was. Jensen hurried across the shiny tiled surface, the heels of his dress shoes clicking as he went, expertly side stepping a couple who were walking through with cases, cursing as he saw Stella stepping into the elevator. He continued running, but just as he skidded to a halt he caught a glimpse of her angry tear stained face as the doors shut.

"Fuck!" He shouted, banging his hand on the wall just above the call panel. Spinning, he almost collided with a young couple who were looking at him, and the man shot him a filthy glare as he pushed between them, running to the stairs. He took them two, sometimes three at a time as he raced to the fourth floor in an attempt to catch her, and he burst into the corridor in time to see her stalking to her room.

He paused to take a breath, relief flooding his system at the fact he'd manage to catch her before she got to her room, before he realised he still had to stop her.

“Stel!” His shout was a desperate plea, and she spun to face him, her face surprised clearly at how he'd managed to get there so quick, and whilst she was still he took his chance. “Look, I’m sorry I made you upset but-“

With that she gave an angry growl almost as she turned around and carried on, the heel of her shoe catching a little as she did, causing her to stumble and Jensen felt his anger boiling over, this was fucking ridiculous, and here he was shouting down a hotel corridor, to her fucking back.

"For fucks sake, Estella, will you a stop being a bitch and just listen to me?"

At that she stopped dead and wheeled round, sheer venomous disdain etched across her face. "I am SICK of listening to you Jacob." She spat his full name back at him, in response to him using hers. "It’s always the fucking same. You know if anything I should have listened to you years ago when you dumped me and stayed the fuck away from you and your stupid-"

"You just slapped me, Stella!" Jensen exclaimed "In front of everyone in the fucking room! The least you can do is hear me out, I deserve that surely?"

"You don’t deserve shit." She snorted. "Now take a hint and leave me the fuck alone!"

"What, like your boyfriend?"

The words flew out of Jensen's mouth before he had even registered them, and from the look on Stella’s face she was as shocked as he was that he'd gone there. She took a deep breath, looked at the floor before she raised her head and stared at him, fresh tears in her eyes and Jensen sighed in frustration at himself.

"You know, just when I think you can’t go any lower." Her voice was soft and sad now, and Jensen stayed silent as he knew that had been a low blow. She took another shaky breath, shaking her head. "I’ve never come so close to hating you as I have right now. You are an asshole."

"Stell, look, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that..."

"Go to hell." She stated, her voice flat as she turned and carried on walking towards her room.

"Cougar told me what Evan said." Jensen blurted out, more words he hadn't planned on saying, and once more she stopped dead.

"Fucking-"

"Did you say it back?"

There was no answer.

"You didn't, did you?" Jensen continued to press as she started walking towards her again. "That's why he isn't here, aint it? Because you couldn't say it, and you fell out, and-"

"You tell me," she stopped at the door to her room, foraging in her purse for her key, "I mean, clearly you have all the answers and know everything about how I feel and-"

"Damnit Stella, just-"

"You know what?" She spun to face him as he stopped besides her. "Evan might not be perfect but he’s never dumped me for no fucking reason, then used me as and when he wanted. But, I suppose that’s on me because I was never strong enough to tell you to fuck off and now that I am, you don’t like it." She raised her hand and jabbed him in the chest. "You don’t like the fact I’m not there when you want to fuck something because I’ve got someone else in my life-" another jab "-someone who… who loves me and I-."

"And you what Stel?" Jensen interrupted her rant with a snort and she fell silent, her eyes flashing. "See you can’t even say it, can you?"

Stella glared at him, a look that would make anyone else quiver in their shoes but not him, not now. He was too far gone trying to make his point, trying to make her see his point, to care how angry he was making her.

“Just admit it Stella," he arched his eyebrow, stepping forward. He planted one hand by her head, palm flat on the surface of the door as he leaned closer to her, his voice level and even as he stated, “you don’t love him, you never will.”

“Fuck you.” Stella stumbled over her words a little, before her hands planted on his chest and she shoved him. Jake stepped back, slightly off balance more to the alcohol in his system than the force of her push, but he steadied himself, moving forwards again. She made to shove him once more but this time he was ready, and his hands caught her wrists, fingers curling round them as her room key fell to the floor.

“Fuck me yourself.” He shot. At that she shook her head and scoffed. “What’s the matter, Stel?” Jake’s voice dropped a little as his grip around her wrists tightened, and he pressed her further into the door, his head dropping, face inches from hers. “Scared you might like it, still?”

“Asshole.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper and she pulled her arms violently to the side, Jake letting go. Once more she pushed him, this time he stepped away so she could bend and retrieve her room key from the floor, which took her a few attempts, her hand and eye coordination impaired from the drink. Eventually, she grabbed it and stood, a little unsteadily, turning her back to him.

As she slid the card into the slot, Jake was once more in her space behind her, his hands softly on her waist and he leaned towards her, his breath hot on her ear.

“Don’t be a chicken, Stel.” His voice was gravelly and he braced, waiting for another blow, but it never came. She swallowed a little, her chest heaving, and she made no attempt to stop his advances. She'd let go of what she had to say, and now she was physically proving him right in his assumptions and her denials

Emboldened by this, Jensen placed a soft kiss to her neck as she pushed the door to her room open, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She turned to him, her eyes locking into his and Jensen could see the conflict behind them. There was a war going on between her head and her heart and, had he been sober, Jensen probably would have walked away, knowing what he was doing was pretty shitty and unfair. But he wasn’t sober. He was drunk, and not just on alcohol but sheer desire for the woman stood in front of him. His Stelly. The girl he still loved.

As her large, clear blue eyes bounced across each of his whilst she grappled with her internal turmoil, Jake stood stock still waiting for her to make her move. He took a deep breath, expecting her to shove him away for that final time, and he would have taken it then, having already proven his point to both her and him, but then he saw it, that familiar darkening of her eyes.

The spark Stell still carried for him, that small flicker of a flame that for so long had been starved of oxygen, suddenly exploded and she reached out, grabbing his loose tie, bringing his lips crashing down to hers. Jake surged forward, pushing her backwards as he continued to kiss her, kicking the door to her room shut with his foot before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close,  pouring every single bit of emotion and frustration he’d felt over the past few months into the kiss.

It was urgent, it was desperate, and the pair of them stumbled around the hotel room, Stella pushing his jacket off and tossing it to the floor somewhere before she yanked off his tie, her fingers moving to undo his shirt. Jake's hands fumbled with the floaty tulle skirt of her dress as he pulled it up around her waist, trailing hot kisses down the side of her neck whilst Stella pushed his shirt down his arms where he shrugged it off. Her hands planted on his chest as she smoothed her delicate palms over the solid planes of muscle, sliding them down over his defined abs and he gave a soft hiss as he felt her nimble fingers undoing the buckle of his belt. In a quick move that made her squeak slightly, he reached down and grabbed her ass, hauling her off the floor, her legs wrapping around his waist as he backed her up against the large sliding doors which led out to the balcony. His lips pressed back to hers whilst her back hit the thick glass a little harder than he had intended, drawing a soft grunt from her mouth as it rattled in the frame.

“Ow.” she mumbled against his mouth, grabbing a fist full of his hair and tugging harshly so he looked at her. He gave an apologetic grin she looked at him for a moment before her hands moved and plucked off his glasses, in a movement that really shouldn’t be hot but for some reason it always was. He took them from her, depositing them in his pocket as his lips gently latched onto her neck, sucking at the pulse point. A barely there whimper sounded in his ear as he nipped at her skin and his attention moved downwards, hot, open mouthed kisses traced down her sternum which was exposed between the deep V neckline of her dress. A low moan left her mouth and her hips pushed down against the bulge in his trousers and he pressed into her, giving her the friction she was asking for. Her hands skimmed down his spine, her fingers making his skin burn and prickle as they danced over his back, coming to rest on his broad shoulders , digging into his muscles as Jake pushed his hips up again, grinding against her.

Neither of them were thinking straight, it was way past that point. This was a pure, carnal desire between two, once-upon-a-time long term lovers, both desperate to scratch that deep itch that they still had for one another. But still Jake paused, pulling back so he could take a moment to look at her. She was slightly dishevelled, strands of her hair had fallen loose from her up-do, framing her heart shaped face. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, but it was her eyes which caught him. He'd always loved her eyes and now they were staring at him with a wild, lust filled look that he knew so well. He swallowed a little, before she moved her hands to his cheeks, pulling his face back to hers. Jake moaned into this kiss and his hands moved round her back, her feet landed on the floor as her back slipped slightly against the smooth surface she had been pressed against. Their mouths remained open, pressed together, sharing air as Jensen slid the zipper of her dress down, causing it to gape a little at the front and he reached up, thumbs gently running on the underside of the straps before he slid them down her arms, placing a soft kiss to each of her shoulders in turn. As he pushed the soft, blue chiffon of her dress down to her waist he couldn’t help the carnal growl that rumbled in his throat as he saw she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Fuck, Stel. You're beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful." He muttered, his lips back on hers as his hands cradled her face. She stepped out of her dress, his hands moving down to grip her hips, fingers curling over the softness of her flesh as he pushed her back against the cold surface of the window. His lips claimed hers again before he moved his mouth, nibbling his way down the column of her throat, tongue dipping into the hollow at the base of her neck, teeth grazing her collar bone as he mapped his way down her body in a way he had done so many times before.

Stella felt Jensen's hands sliding down her bare thighs as he sunk to the floor and her brain had barely registered the fact he was on his knees, when he hooked one leg over his shoulder, shifting her soaked panties to one side. At the first touch his mouth made to her inner thigh she sighed in pleasure, the raw scratch of his short beard a contrast to the warm, softness of his mouth as he moved upwards before he finally gave one long lick over her sex, dipping his tongue into her a little, causing her to cry out in pleasure, one hand falling to his head, the other palm slapping against the glass surface behind her. He repeated his action, his tongue flicking up through her sensitive outer lips and this time he sucked on her clit, causing her back to arch, her had dropping back in sheer pleasure as her shoulders pressed further onto the glass in an attempt to keep herself up-right, all the time writhing at his actions.

His tongue and lips worked in tandem, un-doing her lap by lap, all the time she was vaguely aware of the fact she was begging him not to stop, her words punctuated by gasps and pants, manicured nails digging into his scalp as her hand curled over his head, fingers tangling into his short hair. It wasn’t long before Stella felt that familiar tightening across her stomach and her leg trembled slightly as she fought to keep herself upright.

“Fuck, JJ,” she stuttered, as he let out a groan, the vibration so pleasurable it was almost painful as his tongue dipped in and out of her entrance, continuing to fuck her the way he had always been able to do. The burning in her stomach suddenly took over her entire body and she gave a loud cry as she came, her head falling forward before it rolled back again against the window with a hard thud as the world around her went silent. She grasped Jensen’s shoulder as her leg gave way and he quickly stood up, catching her easily, a grin on his face as she opened her eyes and looked at him, her pupils blown with lust, her thighs once more locked round his waist. He kissed her again, the kiss absolutely filthy as he stepped back and turned them, crossing the room where he dropped her gently onto the bed.

She knelt up on the soft mattress, her now almost completely loose hair falling over her face as she hooked her fingers into the belt loops of his dress slacks and pulled him to her. In one smooth, fluid movement of her hands she’d undone his flies before she slid his pants and boxers down in one swoop. She dropped her head and took him in her mouth without so much as a warning, her eyes locked onto his.

“Shit, Stel” he mumbled, his hands tangling into her hair, guiding her softly as she moved, her head bobbing back and forth before she pulled away to lick along the base of his shaft, tracing the vein in the underneath, and Jensen knew then if she carried on he was going to blow his load before he’d even gotten to the main event.

“Get up here.” His voice was low as he cupped her face and guided her back up, kissing her again. With a gentle shove, Jensen pushed her back on the bed, stepping out of his remaining clothes before he crawled over her, sliding her lace underwear down her long, smooth legs. He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he gave her ankles a soft tug, pulling her down further on the bed, crawling between her thighs, his mouth tracing its way up from her belly to her breasts which were heaving, nipples pebbled in excitement. Knowing exactly what would leave her nothing short of a wreck underneath him, he turned his attention to her right breast, lapping and sucking, grazing with his teeth whilst his hand palmed at her left. She let out a soft, breathy moan, which was music to Jensen's ears as his mouth and hand traded places. He worked her over, till she was begging to feel him where she needed him, her knees clenching around his slim waist, desperate for something to help the burning that was between her legs. He shifted his position a little, propping himself up so he could kiss her deeply again, hands on either side of her face as he buried himself inside of her, with a loud groan.

“God you feel so good, Stel.” His mouth moved over her jaw to her ear as he praised her, nipping at the lobe. At his words Stella gave a loud groan as he thrust up into her again, deeply, burying himself to the hilt before he rotated his hips in a dirty grind, a move he knew drove her wild. She cried out, clawing at his back and he groaned as she tipped her hips up to meet his.

"You know,” another thrust, "he’ll never be able,” another thrust, “to fuck you the way I can," he rotated his hips for another grind which caused her once more to cry out, nails biting at his back as he drove a little deeper, "because he doesn’t know you like I do."

To prove his point, one hand moved and gently wrapped round the front of her throat, giving the gentlest of squeezes but he knew that would send her feral. It was something he had discovered a long time ago, being so in control the rest of the time, Stella loved when he would take over like this, dominate her a touch and whisper cheeky, dirty little things into ear. It had always driven her crazy and tonight was no exception. He’d succeeded in throwing fuel onto the fire that was already raging, and a sharp, strangled wail of his name stuttered from her lips as he felt her fluttering around him.

"You were made for me, Baby Girl." Jensen’s own voice was a low growl as his hips picked up their pace, Stella's head falling back onto the pillows as Jake's mouth claimed hers again, the kiss sloppy and desperate matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

Because he was. He was desperate for this woman. Desperate like he’d never been desperate before.

“Jakey.” She keened underneath him, hands still clawing the muscles of his back which were flexing under her touch, equally as needy for him as he was her. He reached down to hook a leg over his shoulder causing her to mewl loudly at the change of angle and depth as he continued to drive into her like his life depended on it. He bent over, mouth swallowing another loud moan as he did, feeling her sweat soaked skin slick against his.

“Fuck, baby I’m close,” he stuttered, his hips snapping back and forth, “see what you do to me?”

Her beautiful eyes were wide, her mouth pressed to his as she let out a broken lament as her walls fluttered around him again, causing him to almost purr in delight as she did. She was close, so fucking close. And it felt good. As his cock dragged in and out of her, the feel of him sliding up against her spot had her worked into a complete frenzy, and she was teetering right on that edge.

“Don’t stop,” she panted, her head falling back further onto the pillow as she grasped his arms whilst he continued to fuck her into the mattress. And then, her stomach tightened and she felt the rush of pleasure that she knew was the end, beginning to wash over her. "Oh, God, Jake...I'm..."

"Come on, Stel." Jake growled, his hips still pumping in and out of her "Cum for me, Baby, just like you always do."

At his words, she gave a low, sultry whimper and her eyes fluttered shut, nails digging into his biceps as she shuddered underneath him, her back arching as her walls clamped down on him, milking his cock and that was it. He was done for, just like he always was when it came to this woman.

“Shit, Stel," he groaned as he felt his abs tighten as he came with a force he hadn't felt in a long time. His hips faltered as he cried out, shooting his load straight into her, before after one final, deep thrust he collapsed on top of her, his face buried into her neck.

The room was silent bar the sounds of their deep, heavy breathing as they both came down, fighting for control. Jake felt her hands gently move round to tangle in his hair, nails scratching his scalp and he raised his head, eyes still closed, enjoying her touch.

“Jake,” she finally whispered, still slightly out of breath but he didn't miss the tremble in her voice and he raised his head, opening his eyes to see her looking back at him. Her cheeks were flushed, hair all over the place and fuck, he’d never see anything so damned beautiful in his life as her undone underneath him. But her eyes, they were misting over with tears and he swallowed, shaking his head.

"Stel… " he began, and she turned her head away from his, screwing her eyes shut as her face crumpled.

"Fuck, what did we just do?" She whispered, opening her eyes and she looked at the wall to her right for a moment before Jensen tipped her face back round to him.

"Don't." He shook his head, pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose. "Don't do this, not now." He pressed their foreheads together, his nose bumping hers and she gave a quiet sniff as he pressed his lips to hers softly.

“Do you want me to go?” He didn’t really want to ask the question, for fear of her answer but she shook her head, her eyes a little lost as she looked at him.

“No, I don’t. And that’s the problem.” She whispered.

He wanted to try and assure her that it was all okay and that they hadn’t done anything wrong but his words died in his throat, because he knew technically they had. Whatever was going on with her and Agent Shitname, she was still with him, meaning she’d cheated and he knew that would be cutting her up inside.

And now Jensen felt like shit for putting her in that position.

He gently pecked her lips again and with a soft movement he pulled out from her and lay on his back, his hand rubbing his chest. After a little pause he felt Stella turn into him and her head lay on his chest, his arm curling round her shoulder as she sniffed a little, turning her face into his sternum.

“It’s gonna be okay, Stelly.” He pressed a kiss to her head.

It was lame, but it was all he could thing to say. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t reply, and there wasn’t another word spoken between the two of them before they both fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

****

Stella woke the next morning, her bare back pressed into a hard, muscled chest and didn't even need to turn round to know whose arm was thrown round her waist. As the memories of what had happened the night before flooded her brain she squeezed her eyes closed, taking a deep, shuddering breath, fighting the urge to snuggle further back into the arms of the man she knew so well. Instead, she gently untangled herself from Jensen and without a glance back headed quietly into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She glanced in the mirror and grimaced as she saw the previous day’s make up was streaked all over her face. Grabbing her cleanser from her toiletries bag she wiped it away, tossing the cotton pads into the trash before she turned on the shower and stepped into the stream. She stood there for a while, her face titled to meet the water as it beat down on her, washing away the silent tears that were pouring down her cheeks.

Ten minutes or so later she stepped out, almost working on auto pilot and dried herself off, before grabbing one of the hotel provided towel robes. Once wrapped in it, she squeezed the water out of her hair, dragged a brush through it and then opened the door.

Just as expected, Jensen was still flat out in the bed, although he'd now turned onto his back. It had always been a joke between the two of them that he could sleep through a damned earthquake after a heavy drinking session, yet never failed to hear his alarm. Stella took a moment to study his face, a face she knew by heart, every freckle and line, the curve of his nose and angle of his jaw. Biting her lip, she moved towards the back of the room, made herself a coffee as quietly as she could before she retrieved her phone from her purse that had been tossed down carelessly the night before and headed out onto the balcony, closing the doors behind her.

She sank into one of the chairs, tucking her legs under her and glanced at the screen. There wasn't much battery left but she had a couple of missed calls. One from Clay and another form Cougar, both probably wondering where she had bailed to, and one from Evan. She swallowed as she also spotted she had a message from him too.

Ev- Hey, Pumpkin. Look, I'm so sorry about how things went down the other night. I overreacted, and that's on me. I really hope you're having a good time. Please call me when you can, and we can talk when you're home xx

Stella felt the guilt twist in her gut even more and she gave a sigh, tossing her phone onto the table.

"He’ll never be able to fuck you the way I can, because he doesn’t know you like I do."

Jakes voice rattled around her head and she took a dep breath, looking over the balcony down at the pool area below. Try as she might, she couldn't even deny he was right. The sex with Evan wasn't bad, in fact she would go as far as saying it was pretty damned good, likely to be earth shattering to most women. But, to her, there had always been something that held her back.

And now she was forced to admit head on what she'd been trying to deny for months. It was because he wasn't Jake.

Jake Jensen had worked her way into his heart from the day they had met when they were merely eleven years old, and try as she might she couldn't shake him. That year they had been apart, she'd tried so hard, and had been sure she'd managed, and then she'd seen him and they'd fucked, and fallen back into that awful cycle of being together but not being together.

She couldn't stay with Evan. She'd known that even before last night had happened but the fact she'd basically opened her legs so easily for Jensen went to prove that she didn't love Evan, and she wasn't sure she ever would.

She took a shuddering breath and then her attention jerked upwards as Jake opened the balcony door, his hair mussed, top half bare as he rubbed his eyes, his glasses in his hand.

"Hey." he offered, almost shyly and Stella gave him a nod.

"Hi."

There was an awkward silence as he sat down on the chair opposite her, slipping his glasses onto his nose. He watched as she avoided his gaze, glancing over the balcony, occasionally looking at her hands which were worrying one another. Eventually, he could stand it no more and he reached over to take her hands in his.

"Stel, look, last night..."

"Last night was a mistake." She spoke, her eyes locking onto his. Jensen felt his gut churn, her words an icy blade digging into his heart.

"So, you’re just gonna pretend like it didn't happen and go back to that prick?" Jensen looked at her, his voice measured and Stella shook her head.

"No, I can't do that. Not now. Me and Evan are over, I'm gonna tell him when we get back. I don't love him, you're right. Because if I did I would never have given in and slept with you." She licked her lips.

Jake swallowed and looked down at his hands which were clasped around hers before he raised his head to stare her straight in the eye. "I'm sorry." he said eventually. "I'm sorry if you felt like, well, like I pushed you..."

"No, that's not what I'm saying." She squeezed his fingers. "I just, me and you, we can't keep doing this. We go round and round in circles and…" She took a shuddering breath as she trailed off, unable to articulate what she was trying to say.

"No, I get it." Jake gave her a small smile. He let go of her hands and stood up. "I should probably erm, go,” he gestured to the door, “I need to shower before breakfast and the taxi to the airport arrives."

"Okay." She nodded.

She watched him open the door to head inside, before he paused and turned to face her.

"I know you said what happened last night was a mistake, but I just want you to know that I wouldn’t change it for the world."

With that he gave her a final smile and headed back into the hotel room. Stella could see him through the glass doors as he hastily dressed, before without so much as another word he left, and as she heard the door to her room close, the tears once more began to fall.

**** Chapter 7 Part 3

[guiltydumpling]

The Guard: Chapter 5

[KUVIRA X READER ROYAL AU]

Summary: “I called you all here to announce that we have a guest arriving sometime later today. Princess Y/N of the Kingdom of Elysian” The people in the throne room looked at one another confusingly. “Their palace was under sieged and the king had to send the princess away to keep her safe from any assassination attempts. Their kingdom has done a lot for us and has proven to be great allies for generations. She’s come a long way and has been traveling for a week, I expect nothing less than for all of you to treat her as you do a member of the royal family and to attend to everything and anything, she might ask for… This poor child has already been through too much.” There was silence in the throne room for a while, as they let the information sink in. “Dismissed.”

A/N: Hi beautiful beings <3 Holy crap i’m back and I know it took me like a thousand years to update and I really have no excuse for that but I’ve been receiving messages and question about whether or not I will continue this story and guess what... YES I WILL! there’s only about 2 chapters left after this and an epilogue so watch out for that and thank you so much for the support! This is my first ever fic so I never expected to get this much love from the readers! anyway... Enjoy ;)

Word Count: 4.7k

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He’s dead… your father is dead. They told you he was poisoned by the wine that was served during the peace negotiation meeting, that the poison didn’t take effect until he was brought into his chambers for the night and his mouth started to foam, blood coming out of his nose and ears, before he collapsed on the floor and that his body wasn’t discovered until the next morning when his servants would usually get him ready for the day. You were saddened by your father’s death but mostly angered.

You were sat on the training grounds on the bench where you first opened up to Kuvira about your kingdom’s situation. You felt your eyes burn from all the tears you have shed for not only your father but your home. You stared at the stars that lit up the dark sky and all you could think about in this moment was your sister. How different things would be if she were still here you thought.

A few moments later and you did not move from your position when you hear someone walking towards you. You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was because you already knew who would be stupid enough or brave enough or both, to follow you when you clearly wanted to be alone.

“I’m sorry about your father” Kuvira spoke a few feet from where you were sitting.

“Why are you sorry? You weren’t the one that killed him” you said coldly. All manners and sensitivity abandoned.

She didn’t speak for a while and you turned your head to finally meet her eyes. They were sad and full of worry for you and somehow you felt a pang of guilt, she just wanted to be there for you. “Sit with me?” you ask her in a softer tone, and she does. You grab her hand to intertwine your fingers with her and you place it on your lap turning your attention back to the stars as you both sat there quietly.

Kuvira loved to banter and tease, it was basically her form of endearment not only towards you but to everyone around her that she cared about. Despite that, she knows exactly when you just needed silence and her presence alone. This was one of those times and you were so thankful for that.

“I guess I’m a queen now” you say as a matter of fact and she hums in response.

“I would be lying if I said that I never wanted to be queen. I’ve thought about it once or twice when I was a stupid child, but I would always push the thought back when I would come to the realization of what exactly being queen would cost me.” And you were right. It cost you everything. Your sister, your father, your home, your happiness, your freedom, everything.

“Have I ever told you about my sister?” you asked her, not tearing your eyes away from the sky.

“No. But I know you two were close” She says

“We were.” You gently smiled at the memory of you and your sister running around court, hiding from your guards because all you wanted to do was play in the garden all day. You two were inseparable.

“My father would often joke about how we were practically joint at the hip.” You continue and you see Kuvira smile gently from your peripheral.

“We were both opposites in everything. From our duties, to our skills, even to our aspirations. You see, my sister loved being a firebender. You should have seen her when she first discovered her gift, she nearly burned down the garden.” You say with a slight laugh.

“Our father had her trained by the best masters in our kingdom and she became a master herself. She was stubborn as well, that’s what made her a great fighter. She was outspoken and rowdy and very much like my father when he was in his youth. Or at least that’s what our servants would tell me. I on the other hand took from my mother, I was quiet and timid, I devoured book after book, practiced the discipline of art and music, and I wanted pretty much nothing but to be able to see the world and its beauty and culture. That was my destiny. To share my gift of knowledge to the people around me, and hopefully contribute to it. However, my sister, was destined to stay in Elysian and be responsible for our family’s line and heritage. But she had other plans in mind. She wanted to become a soldier, she wanted to fight, and that meant having to renounce the family name and her title in order to do so, and you can only imagine how furious father was when she told him. They got into a huge fight after that conversation and they barely talked afterwards. That’s when their relationship started to wither. She would often escape at night to go to town and observe civilians living their life according to their will, she told me it was fascinating, and she was jealous of them all, then she met this man. He was just a farmer’s son and he didn’t know the real identity of my sister, so he pursued her, and they fell in love. But one of the roaming soldiers caught them half undressed in one of the stables behind the man’s home and they dragged the man away for violating her highness.” You paused for a while, remember the poor man’s face, he was so terrified and clueless at the time. Dragged in chains, when all he was doing was spending the night with the woman he loved and thought he knew.

“They sentenced him to be exiled and had his family’s land stripped from them as payment for dishonoring royal blood with peasant hands. I heard his father was killed in an alley by angry citizens because of the deeds of his own son, and that his mother died from a disease that could not be treated because they no longer had the means to pay for medication, leaving his little sister to sell herself to desperate low-life men just to be able to fill her stomach. My sister had every right to be furious. She was put under supervision the entire day and had the guards stationed in her chambers doubled at night. Chantou ordered the exile sentence of the man and told my father that he should find my sister a husband soon so that this kind of thing does not happen again. And that’s what my father did. He wrote a proposal to one of our allies and they agreed that marrying their offspring would make a better knot than any treaty would.” You shake your head in disapproval of the memories and let out a sigh of pity for your sister.

“Months passed and her marriage was nearing. She barely left her room so I only saw her once a week at best, and whenever she would have conversations with my father it would end in a screaming match or at least one of them storming out of the room. My father believed that what he was doing was for the best, or at least that’s what he told himself when Chantou was basically gaslighting my father into forcing my sister into submission… The night before her wedding, she didn’t leave her room the entire day. It was late at night when I heard a crash in her room since I was only across the hall from her. When I tried to check on her myself, she was being held down by two of the guards and she was thrashing around, blood on her feet and knuckles while her handmaiden tried to calm her down. She was having a meltdown basically. When she saw me enter the room, she settled down quite bit and just started crying hysterically while her handmaiden looked at me with pleading eyes not knowing what to do anymore. The room was a mess, there were shards of glass on the floor and flipped furniture but all I could think about was how I barely recognized her. She was much thinner, her eyes were circled dark, and her hair was all over her face. I felt so bad for her.” You say feeling your chest tighten.

“I told the guards to let her go and that I would take care of her which immediately got her to finally settle down and I had her handmaiden and guards leave us alone so I could personally attend to her. Which I did. None of us spoke as I cleaned her up and put her in bed before I attempted to clean up the mess, she made in her room. I didn’t want to leave her just in case she woke up and had an episode again, so I decided to sleep on the couch of her room. A few moments later I was woken up by a cold breeze and when I opened my eyes, I saw the balcony window wide open and I immediately searched for my sister on her bed, but she wasn’t there anymore.” You feel the tears start to brim in your eyes, but you held it down not wanting to cry anymore.

“I immediately got up and went straight to the balcony and that was when I saw her… just standing still on the railings, wind blowing her nightgown and unkempt hair. I didn’t know what to do and I… I was frozen in place. But I called her, and she looked back at me with tears in her emotionless eyes as she told me she loved me. I told her I loved her back and that I would always be there for her… I was begging her to come down from the railing, but she just stared at me…then she asked me if I really loved her, which of course I said yes to, and then she smiled, for the first time since the day of her lover’s exile she smiled… the only reply she gave me was “good. Then take care of everything for me okay?” those were her last words and she just… jumped. And I don’t remember much but I think I was screaming? Or maybe I was trying to, but nothing seemed to come out. But I passed out on the balcony and woke up in my room with my father sitting on the foot of my bed only to tell me that my sister committed suicide.” You finish, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you held Kuvira’s hand tighter.

“Is that why your sister’s death took such a big toll on your father? Perhaps he felt like it was his fault?” She asked carefully and you nod your head to confirm.

As much as Kuvira felt bad for your sister she couldn’t help but feel her blood boil. How could your sister do that to you? Leave all the mess she created to you? Even the audacity to take her life in front of you while you were begging her not to. Why did everything have to fall on your shoulders?

And now your father is gone, your home is in a civil war, and you were blaming yourself for everything when none of this was ever in your control. You had such big dreams, and you had such a big heart. Why is that all being wasted on a mistake you didn’t make?

Call Kuvira biased, but you absolutely did not deserve any of this.

After a while you chuckled lightly at the stars before you, causing Kuvira to raise an eyebrow at you. “What’s so funny?” she asks, and you simply shrug

“When my sister died, I was so angry… I wanted to lash out on everyone and everything but my father… He was silent. I would often catch him sitting on my sister’s balcony at night staring at the sky and when I asked him why, he told me that he used to do that too when my mother passed away. He said that our ancestors used to say that when somebody we love crosses the afterlife, they become our guardians… and the stars we see are actually their eyes looking down on us from the heavens.” You explain

“That’s beautiful” She comments

“It’s bullshit” you state abruptly. “I always thought it was stupid, something old people would say to comfort the young when they would lose someone” you paused, eyes still searching the stars. “But why is it that all I’m trying to do right now is look for their eyes?” you wonder out loud. Desperation perhaps? You wanted a sign, anything, that will indicate what to do next. If the stars were really your loved ones watching over you, then why has nothing in your life worked out for you?

You felt alone. Then you turn to the person beside you. The person who was still holding your trembling hands and sat beside you in your darkest moment and will continue to do so as long you allow her to. You weren’t alone. You had her. She was the only one you had.

You turn to her, taking your free hand, you bring it to her face and slowly caress her cheek. She looks at you with a slight confusion at the sudden affection but places hand above yours anyway.

“Promise me something.” You whisper to her “Promise me that your different. That you’ll stay… Promise me you won’t leave me?” you whisper in a desperate tone, tears threatening to fall from your eyes and Kuvir smiles gently at you. “I love you. Spirits know how much I do… I promise I’ll never leave you.” Kuvira whispered back, lump forming in her throat.

She promised you that she will never leave you and she knew in her heart and her soul that she never could even if she tried. But everything’s different now. You had duties; you were queen. No amount of love in this stupid world could ever provide you a legitimate heir with her. It was you who had to leave her.

She pulled you into a hug and you pressed your cheeks against her chest, letting your tears flow freely once more. “I love you so much” you sniffled.

~ ~ ~

You were now seated on the edge of your bed with Kuvira sprawled on the sheets beside you.

“I think the Avatar may be paying us a visit tomorrow” She stated

“Yeah?” You asked unconsciously eyes glued to your lap. You feel Kuvira shift from her initial position to crawl over to your side on the bed before snaking her arms round your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. “hey…” she whispered gently, and you hummed in response, still not moving a muscle.

“You need to rest” she said her tone laced with concern for you.

You did need rest. Your eyes were sore from crying and you simply don’t have enough energy to even hug Kuvira back. You were so tired.

You nodded you head and turn your face towards her and kissed her cheek as you smile gently at the woman. “Scoot over” you say, and she does exactly that.

You laid under the covers in the dark, your legs tangled with Kuvira’s arms wrapped around you as you rest your head on her chest feeling her calming breath.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“Honestly? Your guard.” She said with a slight chuckle

“What about him?” you asked in curiosity

“He must be wondering why I still have not left your room” she responded, and you gave a light laugh

“Don’t worry… He’s a great secret keeper” you assured her, and she simply nodded, trusting your judgement.

“Stay with me ‘til I wake up?” you asked her, and she lets out a sigh causing you to look up and meet her emerald eyes. “Please?” you pleaded, and she looks at you sadly, already giving you the answer to your question. “It’s fine.” You simply say turning away from her once more and you feel her hand gently caress you.

“You know I would if I could… please don’t be upset.” She explained and you simply shook your head

“No, I’m not upset… I understand you have your duties, it’s just… sad.” You explain

“Damn… love sucks.” Kuvira mutters and you couldn’t help but give light chuckle nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah… it does.” You responded.

After a few moments you started to feel your eyes go droopy and you felt Kuvira’s breathing slow down as well. “Stay beside me in the meeting tomorrow, okay?” you muttered half asleep earning a hum of acknowledgment from Kuvira as you both gave in to the comfort of sleep.

~ ~ ~

You woke up the next morning from the sunlight peeking through your curtains and you slowly open your eyes. Instinctively, the first thing your body does is stretch your arm across your bed to Kuvira’s side only to feel a pang of disappointment when she was no longer there. You knew she wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t help but hope.

As per usual, Zhu Li helped you get ready for the day, dressing you in all black as a sign of grief and the next thing you know you were seated in the war room across the Avatar. Your guard and Empress Suyin were in the room as well, with Kuvira seated beside you.

“We received a message from Elysian, it’s addressed to you, your majesty.” Your guard starts, retrieving an envelope and handing it over to you.

The room was quiet while they patiently waited for you to finish the letter. It was from Chantou. And he was asking your hand in marriage. Why were you not surprised?

Chantou was not a nice man. He was greedy and always wanted what he could not have, but even though, he was smart about everything. All his moves calculated from the very beginning or you wouldn’t have been in this mess otherwise.

You knew exactly why he was asking your hand in marriage. Your marriage would make him legitimate because as of now, to the eyes of your people, he was a usurper, which was exactly what he was. But with you as rightful heir, Elysians will accept him. Your people loved the royal family and for a traitor like Chantou who did not have any claim to the throne, it was no question if the Elysian people might kill him themselves. He needed you. And as much is made your stomach churn, you needed him too. At least for now, as you try to claim your birth right. You needed the nobles on your side again, and right now, they were loyal to him.

You look up from the letter to meet 4 pair of eyes on you, eagerly waiting for you to tell them what was on it.

“Chantou’s asking my hand in marriage” you finally say, and their reaction were exactly what you expected. Confusion, anger, disgust, and for the woman beside you, fear.

“Like hell you would!” The avatar exclaimed but you simply kept quiet.

“He must be crazier than I thought if he thinks you are ever going to agree to that!” Kuvira commented but still, you remained silent. “Right?” she pressed, her eyes trying to meet yours, but you refuse. Instead, your eyes meet Suyin’s. She knew exactly what you were thinking, and she knew exactly why he was asking your hand in marriage. In her time as an empress, she has probably seen all kinds of tactics people use just to gain the power they didn’t deserve. This was one of them.

“Your majesty.” Kuvira speaks once more, this time in a lower more demanding tone and you finally meet her eyes.

“I’ve decided to accept it.” You finally say and together with the avatar and your guard, Kuvira give you a look of disbelief.

You decided to explain yourself and your decision to them. Talking to them about why he asked your hand in marriage and why you were willing to accept such terms. The Avatar, being her usual brash self, told you to just take Elysian back by force. But you rebutted by arguing that you did not have enough men or resources to do such thing. Meanwhile, Kuvira was kept silent.  Her jaws were clenched and was breathing heavily but you tried your best not pay much attention to it as you stood by your decision.

After a few moments of discussion Suyin finally speaks up. “Maybe we should give this a little more thought and process… Of course, I’m not suggesting that you have not your majesty” She said, careful to not offend you. “But perhaps its best if we let ourselves clear our heads and we can come back maybe later in the day to discuss your final decision. If you still wish to accept his proposal… then I personally will support, you.” She finishes and you give her a gentle smile.

You doubt you were going to change your mind but for everyone’s sake, you agreed and had dispersed.

~ ~ ~

You were near the training grounds shooting arrows to a target with your guard a few feet behind you. Shooting arrows used to be an activity that got your mind off of things, but now it just achingly reminds you of your father. A few shots later you heard steps coming towards you. You didn’t bother looking when you knew exactly who those footsteps belong to.

The footsteps came to a halt and you saw Kuvira’s figure in your peripheral. You already knew her purpose for finding you and you just honestly did not have the energy or the heart right now to tell her that you were going to push through your decision. Choosing to ignore her, you continue shooting arrows.

“Leave us.” Kuvira states, tone filled with authority. No wonder why the other guards around here are terrified of her. You thought.

The look at your guard to give a nod for approval and he distances himself from the two of you, far enough for conversation privacy but close enough that he can still keep his eyes on you.

“What do you want Kuvira?” you ask in the most neutral tone you could muster as you shot another arrow.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here Y/N” she answers, tone still laced with authority.

You took a deep breath before shooting another arrow. Bullseye. You put the bow down and turned to finally look at her. She was fuming. You couldn’t quite put your finger on the exact emotion she was expressing just yet, but you knew it was anything good.

You took a deep breath before answering her, “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going through with my decision. If you don’t like that, then leave.” You say, trying your hardest to not show any emotion. You couldn’t.

“How could you say that? To me, of all people! Do you honestly believe that marrying that son of a bitch is the only way out of this?!” She raises her voice taking a few steps towards you and you almost stepped back, but you held your ground.

“No! It’s not the only way! I can just easily declare a civil war right now and hold on to my pride and title as I let nameless soldiers die on the field while I sit in my chambers drinking tea waiting for a victory, I didn’t take part in! Or I can stop it. Right here. Right now. Without anybody else getting hurt!” You challenged her. It was true. You thought about the options you could take and it all just ended up either more people dying or simply losing. This wasn’t the only way to win back your kingdom, but it was the best way to do it.

“Then don’t.” Kuvira states and you raise a brow in confusion. “That’s what I just said… I don’t underst--what? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been saying since the meeting?!” you groan in frustration. Kuvira takes a step towards you not turning her eyes away from your evidently confused features.

“Don’t declare a civil war. Let us do it.” She explains and you feel your breath hitch. You shake your head and take a step back trying to process what she’s saying. “This is madness Kuvira… even for you…”

Having Zaofu declare war on behalf of your family was a huge risk to their empire. You can’t say the thought never crossed your mind when you arrived in Zaofu and you saw the thousands upon thousands of elite soldiers, bender and non-benders alike, not to mention the resources they have remaining stagnant. You knew that you had nothing to lose and that’s what makes declaring a war yourself moot, you had nothing to bargain with but your claim to the throne. How selfish do you have to be just to claim back your kingdom? Your home?

“You’ve seen Zaofu yourself your majesty, we have more strength and power than the wealthiest kingdoms combined. Declaring war on your behalf won’t even cost us half of our excess” She explains, basically confirming your theory. “And what of the empress? What will she have to say about this rash decision you are proposing to me?” you ask as a matter of fact. Your heart was racing, and your palms were getting clammy from this conversation. Why? You’ve yet to figure that out yourself.

“Su just lost one of her most loyal and strongest allies and her best friend. She’s not about to let the remaining daughter of the two people she cared about the most, to sell herself to a usurper when she gave her word that she will protect you at any cost.” Kuvira states and she takes your hand into hers eager to see your face to give her a hint of what you’re thinking right now. Your hands were trembling, and you were feeling guilt eat your heart and soul. Is this the cost for salvation? Selfish drive and wishful thinking? What would your father do? What would your mother say? What would your sister tell you?

You lightly shake your head, still not fully accepting this decision “no… I don- ugh! Spirits, I don’t know what to do!” you let out in frustration. And Kuvira put her index below your chin to gently tilt your head up to meet her gaze. “You are the smartest woman I know. You always know what to do…” She whispers and you feel tears forming when you let out a sigh.

You knew what to do. You just didn’t want to admit it. Your first plan had a lot of flaws in it to start with. Chantou could just easily poison you like he did with your father and declare you died of illness to your people after he gains their favor. You would’ve never ceased the throne back, not to mention you had to have eyes at the back of your head 24/7 knowing that nobody was loyal to you in the palace anymore.

Kuvira’s proposal was exactly what you needed. A display of external power and allies. A reminder to Chantou that his claim to Elysia threatened our close powerful allies, and that they would not sit idly by as they watch their sister kingdom perish. It was the right thing to do.

It’s the right thing to do.

Kuvira cups your face into her hands, and you are forced to look at her once more. “Su loves you. Your people love you. I love you. And I know that your father would never want you to go through your original plan because he died to save you and Elysia. Please… Let Zaofu fight for you… Let me fight for you”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes cascade down your face and you give her a gentle smile. The first time you did anything for yourself was when you confessed your love to Kuvira. And now… you’re letting yourself be selfish once more.

“Okay.” You finally answer.